Author's Note: Thank you so much everyone! I am incredibly sad that Mad Men has ended, but what an ending! I have been burying my sadness by writing excessively, and I hope that the ending has inspired a lot of people to continue the story in fan fiction. Thank you for your reviews and support!

"Thank you for flying up here to meet with us." Three executives from Ciba sat across from the team, two men white white hair and dour faces and a younger man who sat self-assuredly but with interest.

"We're excited for this opportunity." Pete smiled.

"I'm sure I don't have to tell you, but a lot of advertising agencies won't touch this." Lloyd, the most senior executive said in a low, grumbling smoker's voice. "They don't think the product will sell, and they don't want their agency tarnished with such a sensitive issue."

"You are lucky that we aren't like other agencies." Pete replied confidently. "I can say, without exaggeration, that we have the best creative team in America. We love the idea of forging new ground with this scientific achievement. It could help millions, and we know that, and we want to be part of that. I don't want to get too sentimental here, but one of our former partners committed suicide. Right in his office." Don shifted uncomfortably in his chair. This was not part of what Pete had presented to him. "We never even knew that he was depressed. He was a wonderful man, and if he had known that there was help for whatever he was going through, I think he would still be here with us today. Imipramine is saving lives, and it could save a lot more if we are able to get the word out on a national scale." Lloyd nodded.

"I am sorry for your loss."

"It was tragic. He left behind his wife and children, and the company hasn't been the same without him. We know the importance of what your company is doing, and we want to be on the front lines with you."

"Well then, we are very excited to see what you have prepared." Lloyd replied, and Peggy knew that Pete had caught their interest. But could she hold it? She put on a smile and rose, trying to look confidant as she and Stan approached the storyboards.

"Depression is hard issue to get people to talk about, because it is so isolating. People don't want to talk about it. They know something is wrong, but don't know how to articulate it. Well-meaning family and friends will say 'Buck up, this too shall pass.' But it doesn't, and the person doesn't know why they are so chronically unhappy. They blame themselves for being weak. They feel trapped, and they don't know how to 'buck up'. Praying doesn't fix it, making more money doesn't fix it, having a beautiful spouse and children doesn't fix it. And eventually, they stop trying. They withdraw, because nothing is helping them, and they've just given up." Peggy paused and Stan unveiled the first board. "We wanted to show the viewer what the world looks like from the point of view of a depressed person. We wanted to really enter their minds, because the perception of a depressed person is completely different from reality. We chose to do this in an animated format, because we didn't want our depressed person to be gender specific. It isn't only bored housewives who need this drug. Men, even professional men, as we've discussed, become depressed too. The entire ad will be drawn as though you are looking through this person's eyes. They are in bed, too depressed to get out. Everything is dark and foreboding. The lights are dim, the music will be slow and sad. In the first shot, a little boy comes in with a ball and asks to play. The entire frame will shake side to side, as if the person is shaking their head. No. Then a woman's voice calls out 'The phone is for you.' The frame shakes again. Then a man's voice calls out 'You missed dinner with mother.' Our depressed person sighs, and closes their eyes for a split second. Then they're opening the mail – the telephone bill is overdue. The next shot, the telephone is ringing and ringing, but our character can't answer it. As these scenes progress, the bedroom gets darker and darker, the music is more hurried and eerie, and you can hear snippets of voices. 'Never comes out anymore', 'The house is growing weeds', 'You are now three months past due', 'Your electricity is being cut off', 'The children are neglected' until finally everything goes silent. Then, a light comes into the room and out of that light, a hand reaches out. Our person looks at it for a moment, uncertain, and then shyly reaches out for it. Then we go back to the bedroom, and it is beautifully lit, and our person goes to the bed side, takes a pill and washes it down with a glass of water, and gets up to face to world. Then a voice over says 'Imipramine – getting you back to yourself.'" The three executives looked back and forth among themselves.

"That seems very dark." John, the younger man, finally said.

"And that is what will capture people's attention." Peggy replied. "Most ads focus on making you laugh and feel good. This one jumps in with a dark angle, and non-depressed people will want to watch the story we are telling. Depressed people will start watching and say 'This is my life. How does this end?' Both are valuable. I think we've all had loved ones who have been depressed, or had trouble coping with life. We can tell them 'Hey, I saw this ad the other day for this product that I think might help you.' We are telling a story of hope and redemption."

"How much does it cost to produce?" Henry chimed in.

"I work for peanuts." Stan replied, and everyone in the room chuckled.

"It seems very impersonal to do an animated commercial." Lloyd stated.

"I think that is the beauty of the ad." Peggy responded. "Depressed people are detached from reality – this is what they see. By doing an animated spot, we manage to tap into what depressed people experience, and the viewer gets to enter their world. Also, no one wants to see their furniture and their living space through that lens. We get to create a world which has no physical basis, but tells a story which everyone knows." Peggy saw appreciative glances exchanged between the three executives, and felt her heart soar.

"What would the media strategy be?"

"Peggy!" Stan wrapped her up in a bear hug and swung her around. Peggy giggled, feeling a thousand times lighter than she had previously. When he put her back down, Pete gave her a friendly hand on the shoulder.

"Well done. You got us their business."

"Not officially." Peggy replied.

"Please Peggy. 'The best work we've seen so far'? 'A direction we never saw, but that is incredibly intriguing'? You had them eating out of your hand." Harry added. "This is celebration worthy."

It turns out that what the boys had in mind as a celebration was not the same as Peggy's. They wound up crowding into her hotel room to watch a Red Sox game and order room service while drinking copious amounts of beer. After the game, Harry looked around and nonchalantly asked "Strip club?"

"In Ohio?" Pete asked, wrinkling his nose.

"Hell yeah!" Stan roared, crushing an empty beer can in his right hand. "It's always the quiet mid-western girls that'll surprise you." Pete shrugged.

"Well, with such a glowing endorsement, how can I say no?"

"Don? Peggy? It is your night, you know." Harry offered, stretching out his hand. Peggy smiled and shook her head.

"I think I can live without seeing Ohio's finest. Go on ahead."

"OK. Don?" Harry asked. He also shook his head.

"I should catch up on some work I brought with me."

"Fine." Harry said, and turned to Pete and Stan. "Gentlemen, the night is ours." As the three men marched out the door, Stan called back.

"Don't worry chief, I'll pick you up a pair of nipple tassells." Don raised his eyebrows as the door shut behind them. Peggy shook her head and waved him off.

"No, it's not like that at all. He just enjoys being obnoxious." She got up from the foot of the bed and grabbed another beer from the ice bucket. She turned to glance at Don. "What did you bring to work on." This time, Don shook his head.

"I didn't bring anything. I just couldn't stomach the thought of spending more time with my employees than I have to. Especially those ones."

"Oh." Peggy took a swallow from her can, and a puff of her cigarette, looking unsure of herself. Don shook his head.

"You've always been more than an employee." He said softly. She nodded.

"Good." Peggy mumbled. "Because this is my hotel room, and I can't really leave it." Don smiled and patted the space next to him. When Peggy came over, he slung an arm around her in a half hug, and partially pressed his forehead to hers.

"I'm proud of you, you know that?" He spoke low and quiet, and Peggy found her heart pounding. "I know it wasn't an easy pitch for you, but I knew that you would want to be a part of it." Peggy held her drink in her hand, looking down as Don fixed his gaze on her. She could smell his cologne again, which seemed to mix irresistibly with the scent of beer on his breath and the faint musk the day had given him. He finally let her go, and Peggy felt overwhelmed with her success, with her past, with the intimacy she had experienced from Don, and suddenly she started talking and like a waterfall the words poured out and they wouldn't stop.

"The ad was based on you. I mean, you probably knew that, the symbolism was so heavy handed. But honestly, I felt like I was going to die in that hospital. And I didn't care. I kept hoping that the next time I closed my eyes to sleep, they wouldn't open. I didn't have a baby, I didn't have a husband, I didn't think I'd have a job even if I did make it out. No one visited me besides my mother and my sister. And then you came. And for a while I wasn't even sure if you truly had, and I never really understood why you cared, but you did, and it kept me going. I thought of how disappointed you would be in me if I just died in St. Mary's, and I wanted to prove to you that I was worth the time and effort you had put into me. And I made it. And I'm not sure if I would have, if not for you." She sniffed a little and took a drink of her scotch. "I'd probably be in that same hospital bed right now, having my mother and sister visit me on weekends, watching me fade into nothingness."

Don found himself without words. His heart broke for her because he knew the well of loneliness that they both had drawn from, and he ached with the emptiness they had both experienced. But there were no words he could string together to say this, and so they died in his throat and he simply grasped her hand, intertwining their fingers.

"Peggy..." he tried. "Did the father not come and see you?" Peggy shook her head.

"No. I never told him until after I had come back to work." Don's eyes widened.

"Why didn't you tell him?" Peggy sniffled and let out a giddy laugh, born of emotional exhaustion.

"It's funny. When I finally did tell him, he said 'Why are you telling me this?'" Peggy sniffled again, and Don scooped her into a hug, cradling her head into his chest.

"Who was the father?" He murmured.

"Don..." she sniffled. "I can't tell you."

"Peggy." His voice became firm. Slowly and deliberately he asked "Who. Was. The. Father."

"Don, I really can't tell you." She sniffed, getting up to find a tissue box.

"Do I know him?" He asked. When Peggy didn't respond, his eyes went round.

"Is it someone we worked with?"

"Don, please stop."

"Someone we still work with?"

"Why are you continuing to ask me after I said stop?" Peggy demanded, tissue box in one hand.

"Peggy." He replied, raising his voice. Quietly he asked "Was it Duck?"

"Jesus Don, he doesn't even work with us anymore. He wasn't even working with us when I got pregnant."

"Harry? Ken? Roger? Pete?" Her expression became pained on the last syllable, and Don took a sharp breath. "Pete Campbell."

"Don, I..." Peggy didn't know what to say. Defend herself? Defend Pete? Tell Don Pete was a scumbag and part of her had always been glad she gave up the child so that she didn't have to be with him?

"Peggy. Sit down." He said quietly, once again patting the seat next to him. She complied, and once again he wrapped one arm around her shoulders. She started weeping into his white shirt, and he calmly stroked her back and shushed her. After a few minutes, she stopped sobbing, and sat up straight and grabbed her tissues again. She blew her nose and tossed the tissue in the waste basket, and was left with a terrible sense of vulnerability.

"Don..." she croaked out. They held eye contact, hers watery and confused, his steady and comforting. Then she leaned forward and kissed him, hard. He responded, wrapping his strong arms around her and deepening their kiss. She bowled him over, furiously ripping at the buttons on his shirt, and the buckle on his pants, until he was naked and her shirt was off. She tried to slip herself on him right then, but Don stopped her, giving her a wary look.

"No." He simply said, and before she knew it she was pinned under her creative director as he finished taking off the rest of her garments. In contrast to her earlier pace, he took his time. He kissed a trail from her bra to her panties, and then carefully took them off and kissed her thighs, avoiding her wetness. Peggy squirmed and she tried to trick him into licking her by flicking her hips, but he simply looked up and gave a warning stare, and she gave up on getting her satisfaction on her timetable.

When he did finally thrust into her, there was a difference from their previous encounter. The eye contact before had been dominating and challenging, now he looked like he was an anxious little boy, trying to make sure she was enjoying herself. His pace was slow and methodical, like he was trying to make the moment last for as long as he could, and he carefully dragged his cock through her, touching every tissue and sensitive spot she had. She groaned in a deep satisfaction, and he leaned down and kissed her deeply as he continued his slow march. He ended the kiss and looked up at her, vulnerable in his passion. Peggy found herself softly staring back, and tenderly she tucked a stray strand of hair behind his ear and trailed her fingers gently down the side of his face. He came with a roar.

Don had blacked out for a moment, and when he could see again, he was realized he was panting, Peggy stroking his right bicep as he came back. With a groan he pushed himself to the left of the bed and put an arm under her shoulders, staring at the ceiling. And for once, he felt content. Not in the usual sense of having pushed away his pain for the night, only to have it rediscovered in the morning after his hang over wore off and she had left. This was something different. A meditative, deep sense of fulfilment, like the well of misery he had drawn from was inexplicably empty. He wasn't quite sure what to do with it. He just knew he needed to have it again. Over and over.

"Cigarette?" Peggy offered. Don looked at her, her eyes soft in the glow of the hotel lights, and nodded. He picked one out of the pack, and she handed him a lighter.

In the silence, Peggy wasn't sure what to do. His nonchalance brought back the memory of their first time together, and she knew that their time was going to be over shortly. The young copywriter had thought endlessly about their night together in his office, and vowed that she was not going to do it again. She would not become another notch on Don's bedpost, just to be shoved out of his life when it wasn't convenient anymore. She felt a sense of sadness as she took a drag, and she wasn't sure if it was because she didn't want him to leave, or if she was sad that here she was again, sleeping with her boss for a second time.

"The boys might come back." She intonated after fa few minutes.

"They're at the strippers." Don responded. "I will be surprised if they're back before two." Peggy stubbed out her cigarette in the ashtray on the bedside table, and moved to get up.

"Don't." He commanded. "Stay here."

"Don, we can't be found like this." She protested. He looked up.

"We won't be. Turn on the TV. We'll watch a movie." She shook her head.

"I don't feel comfortable staying naked in bed together. It isn't a good idea."

"But I want you to."

"You can't order me around like I'm still your secretary. It's an unnecessary risk. And while no one will talk to you about it, everyone will look at me at the office." Don looked to the foot of the bed, searching for a strategy.

"What if we did it in a way that people wouldn't have to talk behind our backs?" Peggy frowned, trying to figure out the subtext between his words.

"I don't get it."

"Why don't we just tell people that we are together?" He asked. Peggy snorted.

"Tell people that every once in a while we fuck once in a while, but it's OK, don't worry about it?" Don shook his head.

"Not like that. But that we go out after work together, go home together, come into the office together."

"Like we're dating?" Peggy asked confusedly. He shrugged.

"Sure. We could call it that."

"But we don't do those things together."

"We could." Don looked at her, and Peggy searched his eyes, trying to figure out what product his pitch was trying to sell.

"What do you want from me, Don?" His soft eyes looked her form up and down.

"I like this. I want this. I want you." Her breath caught in her throat, and she felt a deep twinge in her heart and her thoughts raced. She sat up in the bed, feeling the wooden frame cool her back.

"We can't." She said flatly.

"Why not?"

"Because no one will take me seriously if I suddenly become your girlfriend. I don't want to be your next Megan, making cute pitches for Cool-Whip and walking into the office hand-in-hand. I want my own career, not to be in your shadow."

"Peggy, your work speaks for itself. No one is going to start doubting you because I buy you dinner." He said calmly. For a moment, Peggy wanted to believe it. She wanted to see herself and Don discussing pitches over a romantic dinner, giggling about office gossip in the afterglow of making love, watching movies together and debating about stupid things that didn't really matter. There was a second where she bought in, wholeheartedly, and she felt her tension melt away and a whole new world open up for her. Then, it was gone, and she was still in the hotel room.

"No. I can't." She got out of the bed and started putting on her clothes.