Work Text:
"You may marry or you may not. In today's world that is no longer the big question for women."
Mark wants to have sex. At first he just hints. They kiss for a while on the sofa one evening after dinner. Peggy's roommate is away for the weekend and Mark insists on walking Peggy up to the apartment. First, he asks for a drink, and then he sits on the couch, and then the television is on and he just pulls her over, into his lap. His kisses are wet and his breath smells a bit stale, from dinner (Italian) and the drink (beer). Peggy feels relieved when he leaves, but then she doesn't see him for thirteen days. Two weeks later, they make plans to see a film, and as she heads off from work to meet Mark at the theater she realizes she missed him.
A few weeks after this, he tells her that he wants to be her first. She laughs awkwardly when he says it, fumbling for something to say and, eventually, tells him she's not that kind of girl. He seems okay with this, until a month later when her roommate is away again and Mark is back on the couch. This time he slips his hand up her leg and she can feel the warmth from his skin through her nylons. His palm is a bit sweaty, but it's still nice, having a body pressing into hers.
Peggy finally agrees to lie on the bed with him, just to be still and be together, but of course they don't just lie there. When he leaves, he's smiling. He says she's special and, "It's nice to take things slow."
A week later it's Thanksgiving and she's standing in the doorway of Don Draper's apartment. Don is flushed and annoyed; she can tell he's been drinking. He snaps at her, glares at Mark, and then Mark decides to announce he's her fiance. When she hears this, all she can do is stare at Don, monitoring his face. She doesn't know what to say.
Afterward, Mark says he was joking, that he was nervous and that he's sorry. But it's Thanksgiving and they're going over to his mother's for dinner. They've only been dating a year and she's already going over for family dinners every few months.
After the meal, they all sit around the living room balancing little plates of pie on their laps. Mark's mother sits down next to her on the sofa and gives Peggy a look. Like she's being measured for something.
"Don't you get tired," she asks, "working on those advertisements all day?"
"Mother," Mark's voice comes from across the coffee table, sounding nervous.
"I'm just asking," his mother tells him. She looks back at Peggy. "You look tired, dear. That's all."
"No, ma'am," Peggy shakes her head. "I'm not tired."
That night, Peggy wakes up from a dream she can't quite remember. It's three am, but she's wide-awake and thinking about the stunt they just pulled for the Sugarberry Ham account-- two grown women, fighting over a can of ham in a grocery store. She wonders if two people would ever really fight over a can of ham. She wonders if people will read the article and think it's a set up. She wonders what Don will say in the morning and what his face will look like as he says it. She wonders about Mark and how many girls he's really been with. He says it's been three but Peggy imagines it's more. It must be more.
In the end, it doesn't matter. It's New Year's Eve and Mark takes her out for dinner and dancing. They get back to her apartment late and she fumbles with the keys a little because she's drunk. Afterward she thinks, at least she's not alone.
~
"Just about anywhere is fine as long as it is within the law."
The room is blurred a little, at the edges. Peggy leans back against the pole in the middle of the room, shoulder to shoulder with Joyce. There are people all around them, talking and shouting like you do at a party, but Peggy concentrates on Joyce's voice, trying to catch what she says in the middle of all this noise. It's not the first time she's smoked a joint, but the pot makes her arms and shoulders feel loose, relaxed. She can feel the pole pressing into her back and she feels the edge of Joyce's white coat, hitting her side whenever Joyce moves her arms.
They're watching the film by Joyce's artist friend. It's being projected on a sheet that moves and ripples every time someone walks past it. The images flash by, sometimes there are words too, but there's no logic to it. Just images and words to trigger thoughts. Peggy decides she likes it.
She wonder's what Don would say about the film and about these new friends. Or, more importantly, how he'd sell products to them. Definitely not with celebrity endorsements. Music maybe? Something creative?
She's considering this when Joyce's friends appear, and then the lights snap out, the room is dark, and there are footsteps pounding up the stairs as the cops try to push in and the everyone at the party tries to push out. Joyce's friend Abe pulls her into a closet. Its dark in there and they're quiet. She feels herself breathing fast and tells herself to be calm. She tries to listen to the people outside and the voices going past sound more like cops than partygoers. They stay in the closet.
Abe is looking down at her and standing close. She can smell the cigarette smoke from his clothes. He's looking at her breasts-- everyone seems to like her this evening. She smiles to herself and touches her ear, right where Joyce's mouth was.
Later, she and Joyce run through an alley and away from the sound of police whistles and the shouts of angry partygoers. They head towards the subway but it's the weekend and Peggy feels too happy to go home yet. Instead, they go to a diner down the block. Joyce orders a coffee and Peggy gets them a slice of cheesecake. They split it and Joyce tells Peggy about her ex-girlfriend, who was named Suzanne and worked at an art gallery until she dumped Joyce to marry one of the better-paid artists showing there.
"It happens," Joyce shrugs. "Not everyone's in the scene for the same reasons."
In exchange, Peggy tells her about Mark and Duck. She tells Joyce that Duck was her first, but that Mark doesn't know. Peggy tells Joyce all about how she had to lie there on New Years and act like it was her first time, act like it hurt but that she was okay, and then act like she'd enjoyed it, all of it.
"Which. . ." Peggy pauses and takes another bite of cheesecake. "Well, it wasn't all that enjoyable. If you know what I mean."
Joyce makes a face. "Not really."
"That must be nice," Peggy grins.
"Yes," Joyce smiles back at her, cocking her head. "Want to come home with me?"
Peggy just shakes her head. "No, but I'll split a sandwich with you. Are you hungry?"
Halfway through the sandwich (tuna on rye), Joyce is telling her about the first girl she ever had a crush on (Martha, at summer camp) and Peggy wishes they could start over. If she could do it again, she'd tell Joyce about Mark and Duck, but then maybe she'd try to tell her about Pete. Maybe. But when Peggy tries to imagine how she'd say it, she doesn't know how. Saying one thing seems to involve saying too many other things afterward.
Then Joyce asks her about work, so Peggy talks about work and Don. "Half the office--" she takes a drag on her cigarette. "No, more like everyone in the office, thinks I slept with him. Except maybe Joan." She taps the edge of the cigarette with her nail, knocking ashes into the ashtray on the table. "They all sleep with their secretaries."
Joyce nods. "When I started at Life, I was hit about twice an hour. Now, they just set the new guys on me for laughs."
"That's terrible," Peggy shakes her head.
"Yes," Joyce shrugs, "but predictable."
"They're just as bad in our office," Peggy frowns.
"You like him though?" Joyce asks. "You like your job. I mean, you talk about your work a lot."
Peggy isn't sure what to say to that. "I think so?" She takes another bite of sandwich. "I mean, Don's pretty hard to read. He's very. . ." she waves her hand out and then back again. "Professional-- No," she shakes her head, "demanding."
She thinks about Don's face these past months and the stiffness he seems to carry with him. At least, until he's had enough to drink. Peggy doesn't want to talk about that though. Mostly, because she isn't sure how to explain how she even knows these things about her boss. She wonders if she'll ever be able to explain Don to anyone.
Instead, Peggy tells Joyce about Freddy and the Belle Jolie account. Which, of course, means that Joyce grins and says, "I like lips," and then says other things, trying to be shocking. Peggy just rolls her eyes and laughs at her. Sometimes Peggy thinks she can deal with anything the world throws at her.
~
"As for sleeping with the boss... girls to go to bed with he can always find. No real training is required, but where is a boss going to get a girl who can read statistical reports?"
Don hates all the Samsonite ideas they have. He sits at his desk, staring up at Peggy, looking either annoyed or expectant. She stands in the doorway, looking back at him. Her coat is on and she's wearing the new dress that she bought for her birthday. She decides Don looks eager. Like he knows she wants to leave, but he also knows she'll stay. She feels as if he's daring her, like maybe he even wants her to pick a fight. Instead she turns, walks back to her office and takes off her coat.
Don keeps pouring drinks and shooting down her ideas. She calls Mark (again) to tell him (again) that she needs fifteen more minutes. She knows it's a lie. Eventually, Mark figures it out too.
Later, she'll tell herself that this was the best way to end it with Mark, but standing there, in the hallway at work, she just feels angry. Angry that her mother is there to hear Mark whispering fiercely at Peggy on the phone. Angry that her mother takes the phone away from him and scolds Peggy like she is still a child. Angry that she's managed to disappoint her mother, again. Why would Mark even call the family for her birthday? She's told him that she doesn't like them, that they don't get along. Why her birthday? She stares at her reflection in the bathroom mirror for a while, then washes her face, fixes her makeup and heads back to sit with Don.
There are things that she and Don don't talk about. Ever. She likes it that way. There are times, maybe once or twice a year, usually on a Monday, when she wakes up and just lies in bed thinking that there's no way she can get up, get dressed, and face him. Not knowing what he knows. But here, now, it's her birthday and they're at the office at nine in the evening, and Don is so drunk, looking so miserable and practically jumping each time the phone rings. So she and Don talk, just a little. Just this one time.
In the morning, she'll wake up on the couch in her office. Her head will hurt, her mouth will taste bitter and she'll think: This is my job. This is what Don does. And Freddy. This is how all of them do it. And then Don will tell her to go home, take a shower, and come back and write him ten new ideas. This is how they all do it.