Author's Note: Thank you for your review Irma! It's actually probably for the better I haven't been getting a lot of reviews lately. I promised a chapter every 3 days if I received reviews, and while I'm still ahead of the story, I haven't had a lot of time to write recently, and the chapters I have could probably use a bit more TLC :)

"Don, I need to talk to you." Don looked up as Roger entered his office, and put down his papers, eyeing the man critically.

"You obviously need to talk to someone." He retorted. Roger had dyed his hair and eyebrows a jet black colour and shaved off his moustache. His impeccable style had also changed as well. In place of his usual suits, he wore a pair of navy blue trousers, a brown blazer and a pink dress shirt.

"I love it when men look me up and down." Roger lit a cigarette and plopped down in the chair in front of Don's desk. "I talked to Hobart this morning."

"Jesus, I haven't even started drinking yet, Roger." The newly-minted brunette looked seriously at the creative director as he took a drag.

"Now, I know you have a hard-on for Peggy, but he wants her to work at McCann. Temporarily. Tiffany's is finally looking to do some advertising, and the account is worth $15 million for a national campaign."

"What?" Don snapped, his jovial mood quickly soured. "Don't they have their own female copywriters?" Roger shrugged.

"Yeah, but they're all juniors and he wants someone with a bit more experience. It's just six months, starting two weeks after Monday. I don't know why they want a woman on this account anyway. Men may not know what they want, but neither do women."

"'Just six months'?" Don demanded. "So they get the contract, and then what? 'Oh, sorry, we can't do this account without Peggy, she's with us until Tiffany's goes out of business?' And where does it end? They'll start gutting our creative department, slowly but surely, then one day we come to work and Harry and the computer aren't here, and before we know it, Ted is at McCann full-time too."

"If you're trying to make this unappealing, you're doing a terrible job." Don stared hard at his partner.

"They can't just start cherry picking our employees."

"Actually, they can. It's in the contract." Roger replied. At Don's glare, he added "I didn't read it either, but Cutler assures me it can be done." Don punched the button on his intercom.

"Meredith, get me Jim Hobart on the line. Now." Roger sighed.

"Don, don't be stubborn about this. I know you like watching her walk up and down the halls, but the chance to do Tiffany's first advertising campaign in years is a great opportunity for her." Don ignored him and tapped his fingers on the desk, waiting for the line to light up.

"Jim Hobart on line-" Don hit the speakerphone button and picked up the call.

"Hello Don. It's nice to get a call from you once in a while." Jim said jovially.

"I'm here too." Roger added miserably.

"I heard that you're taking Ms. Olson, on short notice." Don snapped. Jim chuckled.

"I knew you wouldn't like it, but it is a big campaign that we need firepower for. It's only temporary, and her name has become a bit of a buzzword around all the New York agencies. It'll be good for her career, and she can come back home, bigger and brighter than ever."

"We can't spare her." He replied stoutly. "We've signed our first drug company, and she is the lead on this. We can't continue the contract without her, not to mention that she is taking care of almost all of the creative work in this agency."

"Maybe you shouldn't have made her so indispensable." Jim advised. "I know you hire a lot of freelancers, it shouldn't be too hard to fill her place for a while. Maybe hire another copychief and see if you can't find another rising star, Don."

"She is not replaceable." Don's hand picked up a pen and squeezed it tightly.

"Try." Jim sounded amused. "Now, if you don't mind, I have a meeting to go to."

"Great talking to you, Jim." Roger said unenthusiastically. Hobart hung up and, frustrated, Don marched over to his drink cart and poured himself a Canadian Club.

"We need a partners' meeting. Now." Roger sighed and held up his hands helplessly.

"Don-"

"Meredith!" Don strode to the door and looked at the blonde. "Call Pete, Joan, Ted and Jim and tell them there is an emergency partners' meeting in my office now."

"Right away Mr. Draper."

The rest of the partners filed in while Don animatedly went through his office, searching for the contract that they had signed with McCann Erikson, and collecting a pad and pen while taking frequent sips of his whiskey. Joan observed him with surprise.

"My, what emergency had been wrought upon us today?" She asked dryly. Ted and Jim walked in, closing the door behind them.

"McCann Erikson is starting to gut our office." He started. Ted crossed his legs as he sat down on Don's couch.

"How so?"

"They're taking Peggy. They want her to work at McCann on a new account."

"This is only temporary." Roger cut in. "She'll be back here in six months."

"Or so they say." Don looked around at all of the partners. "They're pitching for a contract with Tiffany's that they want her for. The contract, if they get it, will last longer than six months. What are they going to do then?"

"This is outrageous!" Pete declared. "Can they do this?"

"Yes." Cutler replied. "It specifically says on page four that, at McCann's will, any changes can be made in our staffing levels or personnel. Quite frankly, I don't see what the problem is with this. Peggy will gain experience at McCann, and when she comes back she can give us an insider's view of what they are expecting and who to talk to. We've been having communications issues with them, this could help."

"This is ridiculous. We were promised autonomy, and we haven't had a shred of it since McCann bought us out. Enough is enough." Pete chimed in.

"I'm with Jim on this." Ted replied. "It'll be great for Peggy to get some experience in a larger agency, and the contract must be pretty impressive."

"$15 million." Roger articulated slowly. Ted whistled.

"I'd like to be on that."

"Why don't you go over instead then?" Don asked irritatedly. "You're not doing much around here anyway."

"Hey." Jim warned. "We have enough to deal with in terms of Jim Hobart, don't start making enemies at this office, Draper."

"Look," Ted said, uncrossing his legs and leaning forward. "I just think that we'd be holding Peggy back if we tried to get out of this. It is a big deal, and a chance to prove herself to the higher-ups at McCann." Don shook his head and strode around his desk.

"We can get Tiffany's. We will go in and pitch for them as well." Cutler shook his head at this.

"Don, we have a non-compete clause. If McCann is pitching, we are automatically out of the running."

"So we're just supposed to twiddle our thumbs and be a farm for McCann to pick from? Get people trained so they can go and work at that sausage factory once they get good enough?" Pete demanded.

"No, this should be a benefit for working for us." Ted replied. "The ability to work at a smaller agency, or if you're interested, joining the big leagues. Think of it as an endless chance at promotion."

"Have you asked Peggy if she wants to go?" Joan broke in, looking at Don questioningly. He gave her a look of disgust.

"After you work with someone for a decade, you know what they want, and Peggy doesn't want to be ground up and spat out at a packing plant." He fished his cigarettes out of his pocket and lit one.

"I think we should ask Peggy what she wants to do, and decide how to approach this from there." Joan said slowly, eyeing Don as if he were particularly slow. "This may not be the issue we're making it out to be."

"Fine." Don spat. "PEGGY! Get in here!" He yelled.

"You DO have a secretary." Jim winced. The partners heard her footsteps approaching the door, and she looked surprised as she entered the office.

"Are you offering me a partnership?" She asked, half dryly and half hopefully. Don shook his head.

"McCann wants you to work for them for six months, meaning you'd be out of this office for half a year. They want you working on a Tiffany's campaign, probably exclusively. It's a large contract." Her face lit up in surprise once again, and Don stared her down darkly. "We're seeing what we can do to get you out of it."

"The question," Ted piped up. "is if you would like to go to McCann for a while. It is a big opportunity."

"You're already working on Ciba, you can't abandon that to go running around after tennis bracelets." Don reminded her. Peggy looked stunned.

"Oh. That is a flattering offer." She said, and suddenly looked a little self-conscious standing in the centre of the partner circle. "I mean, if I went to McCann, I could always do extra work here on the weekends. I wouldn't have to abandon SCP entirely." Don's eyes narrowed into slits.

"I think this is something you can think on over the weekend." Joan said kindly. "If you decide you want to go, we'll all be happy for you." Her eyes flashed to Pete and Don in warning.

"There will always be a place for you here, Peggy." Ted noted.

"Thank you." She replied genuinely.

"Right." Roger stood up. "It looks like this can wait until Monday for further action." For the first time, the partners seemed to notice his change in appearance.

"Roger..." Ted took an appraising eye to his colleague. "Looking good."

"Thank you." Roger nodded to Ted, and walked out of the office, and the rest of the partners took suit. Peggy wandered out, a little dazed from both her hang over and the offer. She played her with necklace absentmindedly as she she slowly walked to kitchen to get yet another cup of coffee.

"Peggy." Pete followed her out, and began walking with her. "What are you thinking?"

"Well, I mean... it's quite... something." She offered. Pete snorted.

"That is how I would describe Roger's dye job. Are you interested?" He grabbed two mugs from the shelves and began pouring the caffeinated liquid.

"Who wouldn't be? I don't especially want to be at McCann, but Tiffany's..." She trailed off. He leaned against the counter and offered her a mug, looking at her quizzically as he bit the corner of his lip.

"Look, I am against this in principle. I don't like the idea that Jim Hobart can march in and take our best creative whenever he feels like it, and I don't like the idea of you being one of a hundred other copywriters. But if I were you, I would take it."

"Oh? Why?" Pete looked around, ensuring their privacy, and dropped his voice.

"It would be excellent for your career. It's Tiffany's, for the love of God. They haven't advertised in so long, you would essentially be pioneering any work done for them in the future. Plus, after what Don said to you in the meeting with John, I think it may be time for something, or someone, a little different. The man can be a tyrant, you need to show him that you don't need him to succeed." Peggy nodded slowly.

"Do you think they would hire someone else to fill my position while I was gone?" Pete looked at her, grinning a little.

"There are a million copywriters in this city, but there is only one Peggy Olson. Besides, we'd probably just fill your hours from the freelance pool, and those people don't have gainful employment for a reason." Peggy giggled and took a sip from her cup.

"Thank you, Pete." He nodded.

"Besides, we'll have you on the inside. That could work to our advantage."

"Like a double agent." He smiled and nodded.

"Exactly."

Don sat in his office, smoking and drinking slowly. He had expected Peggy to outright reject the notion of working at McCann Erikson. They had spent hours during their late nights trash-talking the agency, taking bets on how long until one of the sardines lost it and burnt the place down. Now she wanted to join the sardine can, and he felt... slighted. He looked down a the storyboards for Chevalier Noir, and traced the words of the tagline. 'No one at McCann could have taught her to create this.' He thought bitterly. He picked up his phone and dialled Peggy's number.

"Peggy Olson's office." She answered.

"It's me."

"Hey." He waited in the silence until she finally broke it. "You don't want me to go, do you?" He snorted softly.

"Of course not. Why would I want my best copywriter to go and get lost in a ten story building where she'll be put on a shelf and never looked at again?" He could feel Peggy deliberating on the other end of the line, and once again held his silence. Yelling had always been an impressive tool to display his dismay, but in the end, like all fathers do, he knew that silence was the ultimate weapon. He could feel Peggy chewing on her words and thoughts, and he hoped that he was giving her pause, if not making her sweat a little.

"Why don't we have dinner tonight and discuss this?"

"Great. We'll leave together at 6." He hung up the receiver before she had a chance to respond.