Fic: "Flowers For A Girl" (Joan, Peggy, Don) PG
Title: Flowers For A Girl
Rating: PG
Pairing: technically Don-Peggy gen, but could be shippy if you squint. Joan-Peggy gen.
Summary: For the prompt "cuddling," though this is fulfilled only at a remove. Hope it counts.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
"Flowers For A Girl"
Naturally, Pete called Joan.
“A baby girl.” He sounded too exhilarated to be disappointed, which was nice. Then again, Joan thought, it’s their first, and Trudy’s young. They have time for sons. “We’ve named her Michelle. French, you know.”
And that new Beatles song, too. “I think it’s adorable. Mother and daughter are doing well?”
“Healthy as can be. Trudy’s not awake yet, but I got to see the baby in the nursery. She’s - well, she’s perfect. Just perfect.”
“I’m so happy for you all. Shall I tell Misters Sterling, Cooper, Draper and Pryce that you won’t be in today?”
“If you would.” Pete sounded exhausted; no doubt he’d been up for hours. Trudy must have gone into labor in the dead of night.
For a moment, images of pregnancy flickered in Joan’s mind, both the sweet, pastel-colored ones they sold here and the more frightening ones she’d truly faced. But only for a moment. She prided herself on having a disciplined mind.
Joan promptly took the word to each of the four partners in turn. (Sterling: “Good to know,” without looking at her face, which she felt considerate under the circumstances. Cooper: “A girl, you say? I’d have sent port for a boy. I suppose flowers for Trudy will do. You’ll see to that, won’t you, Joan?” Draper: “Is the office sending something?” Upon hearing that this was taken care of, he said, “Make sure you order cigars for tomorrow. Oh, and see that the Pond’s meeting gets moved to the end of the week. We need Campbell there, with his head on straight.” Pryce: “Splendid! Truly splendid!” He alone seemed happy for Pete, and for a moment, Joan almost liked him.) It was unnecessary to specifically notify the rest of the staff; the partners’ secretaries would spread the word for her.
Sure enough, as the day went on, she heard pleased cooing from the office girls, jokes about how Pete would never get laid again from the boys. There was talk of a collection to buy a teddy bear or something similar, which Joan decided to allow but not to coordinate. It was, in short, a day filled with distractions, which must have been why she missed whatever the hell it was that set Peggy Olson off.
Peggy did seem to be keeping to her office quite a lot, particularly on a day when such cheerful news had most people talking. Joan noticed that much. But she didn’t see her walk out her own door, much less walk into Don’s.
However, Joan got word that the Pond’s people were good for Friday during Don’s secretary’s lunch break, which meant that she was going to need to tell him herself. Which meant that she walked right up to the door. Which meant she could hear the sound of Peggy sobbing.
Quickly she stepped back; Joan was no snoop. There were other, more civilized ways of knowing everything that went on in the office. Probably she would have walked right back to her desk had she not then caught a glimpse of shapes through the frosted-glass panels on one side of Don’s office. The muddled blurs of color were confusing at first, but her skin prickled with shock as she realized that it was Don and Peggy, holding each other tightly.
“It all comes back.” Peggy’s words were muffled. “I try to keep it away, but it comes back again and again.”
“Shhh.” Don sounded so - gentle. Unlike himself. “You can do this.”
“I know I can. But it’s hard. And I don’t know if it’s harder to remember or forget.”
Joan caught herself, looked away from the blurry image and walked swiftly back to the desk. She called Roger and told him about the Pond’s meeting; that way, she could say she had informed a partner promptly. Half an hour from now, she would go back to Don’s office, which by then would no doubt be back to normal, and give him the news too.
Only after this task had been taken care of did she mull over what she’d heard and seen, and what it must mean.
That night, by chance, she and Peggy wound up taking the same elevator down, just the two of them. Though Peggy’s face was somewhat pale, she otherwise looked normal. Good job pulling herself together, Joan thought, somewhat begrudgingly. But the admiration was honest, and it earned Peggy a bit of free advice.
“Listen,” Joan said, “you have to be careful.”
“What do you - ”
“Don’s office is in a busy area. Many people have reason to go see him. The flimsy little walls in this new building don’t offer much in the way of privacy.”
Peggy breathed out sharply and looked forward instead of at Joan. “What did you hear?”
“Very little. But too much, if I’d been anyone else. Don’t take this the wrong way; I’m not preaching at you.”
The sharp glance Peggy gave her then clearly meant, As though you could.
Though this pricked at Joan’s temper, the memory of the ragged sobbing she’d heard earlier that day kept her from reacting. But it was time to be honest. “Listen. I don’t know what happened between you and Don. I don’t care. Obviously it’s over and you’re both trying to act like adults, which is precisely the right way to handle it.” Far better than either Don or Allison had managed their ill-fated whatever it was, though Joan was disquieted to think that Don Draper was suddenly trawling the office for girls. He’d always kept his hand out of that cookie jar before recently. If he kept it up, there would be trouble. “But unless you want gossip to overshadow your professional contributions at the office, you’ll have to be more discreet.”
Peggy listened to all of this without a word, though her expression was not what Joan would’ve expected. Shame, perhaps. Or longing, which would’ve been followed with some endless gushing description of the affair and its tragic end - Joan wasn’t sorry to be spared this. But she didn’t know how to react when Peggy began to laugh. “You think that Don and I had an affair.”
Such childish denials were insulting. “You were crying. And he was holding you rather tightly.”
At first there was no response, and the silence stretched out long enough that Joan thought Peggy was too appalled at being seen to speak at all. She would happily have left it at that: warning delivered, duty fulfilled.
But just as the elevator neared the ground, Peggy said, “I’m sorry that nobody’s ever shown you kindness unless they wanted to sleep with you. But not everyone is that unlucky.”
Joan felt the familiar dip in her stomach as they ended their journey. Peggy walked out of the elevator first, head held high. For a moment, she looked so confident and certain that Joan wondered if somehow Peggy had been telling the truth.
Then Joan set it aside. It didn’t matter. It didn’t affect her, and now that the warning had been heard, it would be heeded - meaning whatever had passed between Don and Peggy wouldn’t affect the office either. Beyond that, it was none of Joan’s business, and she preferred it that way.
She walked out of the building into Midtown, mentally making a note to call first thing in the morning to make sure Trudy’s flowers would be on time.
**
Rating: PG
Pairing: technically Don-Peggy gen, but could be shippy if you squint. Joan-Peggy gen.
Summary: For the prompt "cuddling," though this is fulfilled only at a remove. Hope it counts.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
"Flowers For A Girl"
Naturally, Pete called Joan.
“A baby girl.” He sounded too exhilarated to be disappointed, which was nice. Then again, Joan thought, it’s their first, and Trudy’s young. They have time for sons. “We’ve named her Michelle. French, you know.”
And that new Beatles song, too. “I think it’s adorable. Mother and daughter are doing well?”
“Healthy as can be. Trudy’s not awake yet, but I got to see the baby in the nursery. She’s - well, she’s perfect. Just perfect.”
“I’m so happy for you all. Shall I tell Misters Sterling, Cooper, Draper and Pryce that you won’t be in today?”
“If you would.” Pete sounded exhausted; no doubt he’d been up for hours. Trudy must have gone into labor in the dead of night.
For a moment, images of pregnancy flickered in Joan’s mind, both the sweet, pastel-colored ones they sold here and the more frightening ones she’d truly faced. But only for a moment. She prided herself on having a disciplined mind.
Joan promptly took the word to each of the four partners in turn. (Sterling: “Good to know,” without looking at her face, which she felt considerate under the circumstances. Cooper: “A girl, you say? I’d have sent port for a boy. I suppose flowers for Trudy will do. You’ll see to that, won’t you, Joan?” Draper: “Is the office sending something?” Upon hearing that this was taken care of, he said, “Make sure you order cigars for tomorrow. Oh, and see that the Pond’s meeting gets moved to the end of the week. We need Campbell there, with his head on straight.” Pryce: “Splendid! Truly splendid!” He alone seemed happy for Pete, and for a moment, Joan almost liked him.) It was unnecessary to specifically notify the rest of the staff; the partners’ secretaries would spread the word for her.
Sure enough, as the day went on, she heard pleased cooing from the office girls, jokes about how Pete would never get laid again from the boys. There was talk of a collection to buy a teddy bear or something similar, which Joan decided to allow but not to coordinate. It was, in short, a day filled with distractions, which must have been why she missed whatever the hell it was that set Peggy Olson off.
Peggy did seem to be keeping to her office quite a lot, particularly on a day when such cheerful news had most people talking. Joan noticed that much. But she didn’t see her walk out her own door, much less walk into Don’s.
However, Joan got word that the Pond’s people were good for Friday during Don’s secretary’s lunch break, which meant that she was going to need to tell him herself. Which meant that she walked right up to the door. Which meant she could hear the sound of Peggy sobbing.
Quickly she stepped back; Joan was no snoop. There were other, more civilized ways of knowing everything that went on in the office. Probably she would have walked right back to her desk had she not then caught a glimpse of shapes through the frosted-glass panels on one side of Don’s office. The muddled blurs of color were confusing at first, but her skin prickled with shock as she realized that it was Don and Peggy, holding each other tightly.
“It all comes back.” Peggy’s words were muffled. “I try to keep it away, but it comes back again and again.”
“Shhh.” Don sounded so - gentle. Unlike himself. “You can do this.”
“I know I can. But it’s hard. And I don’t know if it’s harder to remember or forget.”
Joan caught herself, looked away from the blurry image and walked swiftly back to the desk. She called Roger and told him about the Pond’s meeting; that way, she could say she had informed a partner promptly. Half an hour from now, she would go back to Don’s office, which by then would no doubt be back to normal, and give him the news too.
Only after this task had been taken care of did she mull over what she’d heard and seen, and what it must mean.
That night, by chance, she and Peggy wound up taking the same elevator down, just the two of them. Though Peggy’s face was somewhat pale, she otherwise looked normal. Good job pulling herself together, Joan thought, somewhat begrudgingly. But the admiration was honest, and it earned Peggy a bit of free advice.
“Listen,” Joan said, “you have to be careful.”
“What do you - ”
“Don’s office is in a busy area. Many people have reason to go see him. The flimsy little walls in this new building don’t offer much in the way of privacy.”
Peggy breathed out sharply and looked forward instead of at Joan. “What did you hear?”
“Very little. But too much, if I’d been anyone else. Don’t take this the wrong way; I’m not preaching at you.”
The sharp glance Peggy gave her then clearly meant, As though you could.
Though this pricked at Joan’s temper, the memory of the ragged sobbing she’d heard earlier that day kept her from reacting. But it was time to be honest. “Listen. I don’t know what happened between you and Don. I don’t care. Obviously it’s over and you’re both trying to act like adults, which is precisely the right way to handle it.” Far better than either Don or Allison had managed their ill-fated whatever it was, though Joan was disquieted to think that Don Draper was suddenly trawling the office for girls. He’d always kept his hand out of that cookie jar before recently. If he kept it up, there would be trouble. “But unless you want gossip to overshadow your professional contributions at the office, you’ll have to be more discreet.”
Peggy listened to all of this without a word, though her expression was not what Joan would’ve expected. Shame, perhaps. Or longing, which would’ve been followed with some endless gushing description of the affair and its tragic end - Joan wasn’t sorry to be spared this. But she didn’t know how to react when Peggy began to laugh. “You think that Don and I had an affair.”
Such childish denials were insulting. “You were crying. And he was holding you rather tightly.”
At first there was no response, and the silence stretched out long enough that Joan thought Peggy was too appalled at being seen to speak at all. She would happily have left it at that: warning delivered, duty fulfilled.
But just as the elevator neared the ground, Peggy said, “I’m sorry that nobody’s ever shown you kindness unless they wanted to sleep with you. But not everyone is that unlucky.”
Joan felt the familiar dip in her stomach as they ended their journey. Peggy walked out of the elevator first, head held high. For a moment, she looked so confident and certain that Joan wondered if somehow Peggy had been telling the truth.
Then Joan set it aside. It didn’t matter. It didn’t affect her, and now that the warning had been heard, it would be heeded - meaning whatever had passed between Don and Peggy wouldn’t affect the office either. Beyond that, it was none of Joan’s business, and she preferred it that way.
She walked out of the building into Midtown, mentally making a note to call first thing in the morning to make sure Trudy’s flowers would be on time.
**