This love affair doesn't begin here. It starts every time there are footsteps and a closed door. You ask yourself, "Where are they going?" "Why can't I follow?" "What did I do?" And suddenly, the unattainable becomes the desirable. The perfect job. The man of your dreams. A Jaguar. Sooner or later, you'll own it, and it won't mean a fraction then of what it does when it's denied to you.
This moment is a closed door - only now you've walked behind it, and someone else is asking the wrong questions. You're more than a woman, you're more than a job, you're more than a Jaguar. You can't be earned. You can't be owned. You can only be desired. You have complete control. And they want you around, because they know you'll never relinquish it.
This 'muse' status doesn't give you power. Politicians have power, and regimes fall every day. Power can be touched. Power can be revoked. This gives you the gift of complete and utter unavailability. What do you say?
Huh, the power angle. [ Peggy greets him with an expression both bemused and awestruck. He can still sell you a crumpled paper bag and you'd want to buy ten of them. Oddly enough, it's a comfort to see him here, especially in such kooky circumstances. She folds her arms comfortably and considers the ptich. ]
So, you're trying to sell me "musedom," Don? Don't go taking my typist's job away from her.
( ooc | that tag made my entire day, oh my goodness. ♥. )
[The eyebrows raise. He lets her see him work that over, his expression considering, bemused. He settles, finally, into a smile. A challenge. His idea of camaraderie.]
[ Peggy folds her arms calmly and mirrors his expression. She likes this the most, challenging Don in a friendlier match, rather than striving for his approval. Though that challenge can be enjoyable though she won't admit it. ]
Well. There's obviously something that she likes about you. [ a pause before vicki laughs. ] Though I'm not sure that should be more than a passing compliment in a situation like this.
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That's the spirit.
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I've got reasons to think that she should be giving me the pitch and not the other way around.
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This moment is a closed door - only now you've walked behind it, and someone else is asking the wrong questions. You're more than a woman, you're more than a job, you're more than a Jaguar. You can't be earned. You can't be owned. You can only be desired. You have complete control. And they want you around, because they know you'll never relinquish it.
This 'muse' status doesn't give you power. Politicians have power, and regimes fall every day. Power can be touched. Power can be revoked. This gives you the gift of complete and utter unavailability. What do you say?
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So, you're trying to sell me "musedom," Don? Don't go taking my typist's job away from her.
( ooc | that tag made my entire day, oh my goodness. ♥. )
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It's advisory work. Pro bono. The sale's up to her. I'm just... opening a door.
[ ooc: I'm thrilled, Peggy deserves all the.... over-the-top bamboozling ♥! ]
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Well, that's generous of you. [ A smile pulls at her lips. ] I didn't know you did anything pro bono. Are you thinking of sticking around?
( ooc | ♥ ♥! i'm so glad i picked her up! was not expecting any tags :3 )
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AAAAAAA PEGGY IS MY FAVORITE I WORSHIP AT YOUR FEET
AAAH SHE'S A MUSE LIKE 4 YEARS IN THE MAKING AND I FINALLY DID IT ;;
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Maybe if you'd said someplace better.
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Maybe.
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You've been with yours for a while, haven't you? How's that going for you?