I did a lot of writing over the past few days, so I have tons of stuff waiting for me to edit and upload-I hope you are all continuing to enjoy and I welcome your feedback (especially as I try to decide which path Peggy is going down!)

Peggy walked out of the Waldorf, and turned toward the subway. She still had an extra outfit in her office, so she thought if she could just sneak in, she could change before anyone—particularly Stan—realized that she hadn't been home last night. As she approached the stairs to the train she stopped, turned abruptly and walked in the opposite direction. She covered the blocks swiftly, and nodded at the doorman as she entered the building. As she rode the elevator up to the penthouse, she had an odd sense of déjà vu. When the doors opened, she turned toward Don's apartment, pausing only briefly outside his door to collect herself before knocking.

Don opened the door while hastily buttoning his shirt. The stood in silence for a moment before Don spoke. "Do you want to come in?"

Peggy nodded and stepped inside as Don closed the door behind her. She looked around—she hadn't noticed last week how empty the apartment was without Megan's personal touches.

"Peggy?"

She turned around and met his questioning glance. "Why do you care so much about me? About what happens to me?"

Don smiled and shook his head. Only someone like Peggy Olson would knock on his door at 7am to ask him a question as ridiculous as that.

"I'm serious, Don."

Her growing irritation only served as more amusement. "Peggy, I told you. I think you're a good person. A person who deserves good things."

"But not like Ted?"

Don shook his head and began to walk toward the kitchen to pour himself a glass of juice. Peggy stayed rooted in place. "I told you what I thought, but I told you it isn't my decision to make. You're an adult, Peggy. You need to decide what you want. You're the only person who gets to decide whether he's good enough for you."

"But you don't think he is."

"Peggy, my opinion doesn't matter…"

"You think I deserve someone better," Peggy began walking toward the doorway to the kitchen where Don was now standing with a glass in his hand.

"Peggy. Listen to me," Don's voice grew louder and slightly more irritated. "It doesn't matter what I think."

"Answer the question." Peggy was now standing directly in front of Don, staring up at him and daring him to defy her.

Don rolled his head back, took a deep breath, and considered his options. "Fine. Alright. No, I don't think he's good enough for you. I think he's not at all what you think he is. I think that he's managed to get you to fall in love with him, break your heart, and then expects you to forgive him when his safe comfortable life doesn't work out like he thought it would. So, yes. I think you deserve someone better."

"Someone like you?"

"Peggy, that isn't what this is about."

"Don't you know that you're just like him? You are just like the person you're criticizing."

Don roughly sets his glass onto the counter and gestures around the room. "Do you think that I don't know that? Do you think that I don't look around every morning when I wake up and think about what a terrible husband I've been? But do you know what makes me better than him? I recognize that. I recognize that what I've hurt, what I've pushed away, what I've let go isn't coming back. I messed up, and I got what I deserved." Don stopped for a moment, looking around his apartment and then back at Peggy. "Do you want to know why I care? Because I don't want you to be Megan. Or Betty. I don't want to see you end up with someone who thinks that it's okay to toss you aside when he gets scared or when something new comes along. I care that you end up happy."

Peggy didn't know what she had expected coming to Don's apartment, but she knew it wasn't this. She hadn't anticipated that he would be so honest with her. She stood silently, chewing her lip, looking down at the floor. When she finally looked up, she met Don's eyes, and searched for some answer to all of her problems. His vulnerability in that moment stirred something in her. She stood up on her tiptoes and gently kissed his lips. She stepped back, sheepishly, suddenly very aware of what she had just done. As her mind raced, she hardly noticed Don lean down and kiss her, tenderly at first, but when Peggy parted her lips in response, he put his hands on her waist, and pulled her tightly to him. She let her hands drift up to his chest, then to his face, holding him in place. Peggy had no idea how long they stood there. She was entranced by the heat radiating from Don's body, the feel of his smooth skin under her fingertips, the smell of his cologne, and the way his hands stroked her back.

Don stepped back first, afraid that he had crossed the line. He locked eyes with Peggy.

"I should go," she said, backing toward the door.

Don wanted to say something, to apologize, to ask her to stay, but he remained silent, watching as she closed the door behind her. When she left, he put his hands on the counter, and hung his head.