no one teaches you what to do when a good man hurts you

(and you know you hurt him too)

They were going to be late for work. It was still Peggy's first week and they were going to be late. And they were going to blame it on the traffic, even though what really happened was that they were somewhat enthusiastic in bed the night before and had knocked the alarm clock on the floor where the batteries had fallen out.

Daniel was honking and swearing at the other drivers and complaining about LA traffic and Peggy couldn't help but laugh at the ridiculousness of it all.

"They don't know where you live," Daniel said. "So they can't check up on the story."

"You think they're going to check up on my traffic story?" Peggy asked, holding on to the door for balance as they switched lanes quickly. "There won't be an investigation. The only person who cares about me being late is my boss, and that's you."

Daniel grinned. "You know I keep expecting Dooley to come back from the dead and tell me that Hawaiian shirts are not proper office attire."

"I'll bet he'd have a lot more to say about LA than just the fashion."

When he had parked in front of the Auerbach Theatrical Agency, Daniel said. "Alright, I'll wait five minutes, so we don't go in together."

Peggy smiled and kissed him on the cheek. "Ruining your reputation as a punctual supervising officer for me is so sweet of you, darling."

"I'll ruin more than that," he said, pulling her in for a more substantial kiss.

When she pulled away, she smiled and handed him a handkerchief. "For the lipstick," she whispered and got out of the car.

Daniel watched her go, the handkerchief to his mouth not hiding his smile.

Peggy had known, from the first day, it would be difficult. From the first time she'd walked into the LA office, newly transferred from New York, she'd felt the looks sent her way. Her desk was quite near Daniel's office, which her new colleagues were also quick to observe.

And when Daniel had formally introduced her to the other agents, there were knowing glances, nudges, and murmurs. But she was used to all of this. Surely she had gone through worse before, with her relationships with Steve and Howard openly speculated upon in New York. She had handled all of that. She could handle this too.

And Daniel was sweet and understanding and made sure to follow her admittedly strict rules. They did not discuss personal matters at work, ever. They did not even hold hands in the office. If one of them went out for a drink with their coworkers – usually Daniel – then the other wouldn't – usually Peggy. She was determined to give no fodder to the rumours she knew were already pervasive – that she only had the job because she was sleeping with the boss.

It was a little over a month since her transfer to LA, and it was Valentine's Day. She and Daniel were going out for dinner after work. Peggy came to the office and found a pink envelope on her desk, addressed to her in what was not Daniel's handwriting. Inside was a somewhat mundane store-bought secret admirer card. She wasn't quite sure of what to make of it until Sutton – a newer agent who had been hired since the last time she had been in LA – sallied up to her desk.

"So, what about it, valentine?" he asked. "Be mine?"

Peggy rolled her eyes and held the card out to him. "Fortunately, I'm already spoken for."

"Oh." He took the card, acting surprised. "I thought we were taking turns. He's had you for over a month; I thought it was high time someone else–"

"If you finish that sentence and I'll ensure you don't see next month," Peggy snapped.