A/N: I know I have many unfinished stories - this is only one of them, and I sincerely appreciate all readers (old, new, and everything in between). Happy early Thanksgiving to those who celebrate.

The weekends at the Draper home were designed for sleeping in and staying cozy. Neither parent was overly religious and had a desire to take the family to church once a week, so weekends became a lazy ritual of late mornings, mid-day brunches and the occasional afternoon activity.

Betty stirred, wrapped tightly in the comforter and found an exquisite orange iris on the other pillow. "He's awake," she drawled, fingering the petals. There were worse ways to wake up on a Saturday morning and Betty wasn't sure if Henry was the type of partner that went for flowers and little gifts. Don can be very generous when the occasion arises, she recalled, vividly seeing her white gold watch, her engagement and wedding ring, dozens of earrings and trinkets. He knows how to buy people when he isn't quite ready to give them his time. When they were newlyweds, the other brides were deathly jealous of the new Mrs. Draper who took pleasure in flaunting her treasures, whatever they may be. They started small, when Don was still writing copy at the furrier, but eventually they graduated to a class of their very own, making her the envy of the neighborhood. I would have traded those presents for quality time with you. She had wanted to say that to him dozens of times, especially around Valentine's Day and Christmas. There was a shyness to her that prevented her from telling him how she felt; that coupled with the fact that she was afraid of his answer – that he didn't want to spend time with her at all, that the gifts were a convenient buyout.

It was sentimentality that drove her to the attic, to see if he was awake and perhaps wanting to talk. There was so much unsaid between the two of them, questions unanswered, declarations never stated. Betty knocked twice, soft and feminine, not wanting to wake the children or startle Don. Waiting a beat and hearing nothing, she opened the door only to find the bed made and untouched. Her heart sinking slightly, she pushed herself forward, going down the stairs, hoping to find him in the office, or reading the newspaper in the den. Goosebumps prickled her arms as she discovered that he was indeed nowhere in sight, without as much as a note of explanation. Aren't I getting what I wanted? I told him I wanted out, he gives me space, and then I'm left wondering where he is and why he isn't home.

Picking up the phone, Betty dialed the Francis residence, hoping that Henry would either be able to pick up or have a not so nosy staff that would provide a quick connection. "Henry Francis please," Betty recited coolly to the maid who answered the telephone.

"This is Henry Francis."

"It's me," Betty said softly, a small smile forming on her mouth at a connection finally made.

"You called the house?" Henry asked dubiously.

"I didn't provide my name."

"The staff likes to talk," Henry insisted. "It'd be easier for me to call you than for you to call me."

"I just wanted to hear your voice." The reasoning sounded silly to Betty as she attempted to explain herself.

"We just saw each other two days ago."

Betty detected an unkind laughter in his voice. "You said I could call."

"I figure we would wait a week before doing that."

"Funny that you never mentioned that week two days ago."

"Well you never warned me about your arrangement with your husband. How is that going by the way?"

Betty twisted her fingers around the coil of the phone. "He's been so busy working he hasn't been around all that much."

"Just as well. I hate the thought of sharing you."

"Well I'm going to be sharing you with the entire Republican Party and all of your constituents."

"It's different for work."

Betty tightened her grip on the phone. She had heard that same double standard from Don dozens of times over the years. Am I a fool to be trading one obsessed career man for another? "If you say so," she replied coyly.

"How does Tuesday night sound?"

"For a date?"

"It's the first night I'm free from work and I'd like to spend it with the woman I plan on marrying."

"I'll tell Don there's a Junior League meeting that I need to attend," she assured him.

"We'll have to meet outside of the city, somewhere more secluded.

"You just tell me where to meet you and I'll be there." Betty wrote down the address and carefully ripped it off the notepad, placing the slip of paper inside her bathrobe pocket. "I miss you."

"Likewise," Henry promised, hanging up the phone.

Betty climbed the steps two at time to the bedroom closet in order to find an outfit suitable for an intimate Tuesday night dinner.

Don Draper boldly knocked on the door of Peggy Olson's apartment. He wasn't prepared to move on without her, and his conversation with Pete the previous day left him with a valuable approach to bringing his favorite copywriter with him.

"You look awful." Peggy Olson was never one to start with pleasantries. Working in a male dominated industry, Peggy was more used to cutting to the chase rather than maintain a polite façade.

"May I come in?" Don had visited her at home once before a few years ago, after it was reported that she wasn't returning back to work. He brought her back then and he was determined to do so again.

"Do you want anything?" Peggy asked matter-of-factly as Don took a seat on the sofa.

"Yes I do." Closing his eyes, he braced himself for the ultimate pitch. "You were right, I've taken you for granted; and I've been hard on you. But only because I think I see you as an extension of myself and you're not."

"Well thank you for stopping by," Peggy replied in an attempt to end the conversation.

"Sit," Don gestured. Peggy followed his instructions, crossing her legs and placing her hand in her lap. "Do you know why I don't want to go to McCann?"

"Because you don't want to work for anyone else."

"No. Because there are people out there that buy things – people like you and me. And something happened, something terrible; and the way that they saw themselves is gone. Nobody understands that – but you do, and that's very valuable."

"Is it?" Peggy asked, recalling dozens of times where she had been taken for granted or scoffed at for simply being born a woman.

"With you or without you, I'm moving on and I don't know if I can do it alone. Will you help me?

Her resolve began to break. "What if I say no – you'll never speak to me again."

"No; I will spend the rest of my life trying to hire you."

"What did you have in mind?"

With that Don knew that he had succeeded in securing another employee and mending another fence; this left one more fence that was going to take a great deal of work – the one with his wife Betty. As he had with Peggy, he knew that he had in fact taken for granted, assumed that she would always be there to cook his meals, raise the children, and be an escort upon demand with little notice. It never once occurred to him, until she said it, that she would ever want out of their marriage. He was ready to prove himself to her, but it would take more than an afternoon pitch to get her back on his side.