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Summary:

❝ 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐄 𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐓𝐎 𝐌𝐄, 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘, 𝐋𝐄𝐓'𝐒 𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐀 𝐍𝐄𝐖 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓. ❞

 

 

[s1-7]
[ken cosgrove x oc]

[k.h.]

Chapter 1: que sera sera

Chapter Text

WITH AN ANGRY SIGH, SHE STOMPS HER WAY THROUGH THE OFFICE. Her black flats tap against the worn and dirty carpet that covers the floors. Her hands tighten into fists as she nears the office she has in her sights. The laughter of the men inside did little to quell the anger she felt coursing through her veins. The secretary in front of the office watched with furrowed eyebrows and wide eyes as the woman pushed herself into the office. "You sons of bitches." She snapped, grabbing each other their attention. In her hand was a framed photo of their coworker, Hank Hartwell, that they had placed on her desk. The men in the office roared with laughter. "This isn't funny, you jackals!"

"Oh, c'mon, Al," her favorite of the bunch, Ken Cosgrove, laughed as his arms wrapped around her waist to pull her against himself, "it's funny. Even you have to laugh a little." His arms tightened around her as he rested his chin on her shoulder. A smile forced its way onto her lips as he grabbed the frame from her grip to observe the photo of the handsome young man. It was a black and white headshot the man had taken when he had attempted to shoot for an acting career. "He's a keeper. I see why you like him."

"I do not like him." She laughed, throwing her head back gently. "Not anymore, at least."

"Is it the beard?" Her least favorite of the group, Paul Kinsey, chuckled as he took a drag from his cigarette. "I'm telling you, some men just look better clean shaven."

"At least he can grow one." Alice perked an eyebrow up as Ken laughed behind her. His chuckle reverberated next to her left ear, giving her a strange sense of comfort and familiarity. The two had been best friends since the day she started as Pete Campbell's secretary. She had somehow moved her way up to becoming Bert Cooper's secretary - though the older gentleman had rarely needed her other than to look at his art or to make the occasional doctor's appointment for him. "What are you annoying boys doing in here? Other than being a nuisance to society."

"We're talking about Pete's bachelor party tonight." Harry Crane wiggled his eyebrows suggestively as Ken pulled out a card for a club called the Slipper Room. Rolling her eyes, she took the card from her coworker and flipped it over to read the back of the card. "You comin' tonight, Al?"

"Alice." She responded as she continued to read over the card.

Both Harry and Ken chuckled. "You let Ken call you Al."

"When you turn into Ken, then I'll let you call me Al." The man in question pressed a kiss to her cheek. A faint swell of pink grew on her cheeks at the newfound warmth that seemed to almost make its home in her body when he showed any means of affection towards her.

Pete scoffed from his desk across from them. "No offense, Alice," his sly smile was joking but serious at the same time, "but it's a bachelor party. No women allowed."

"Then why are you going to a strip club?" Her arms crossed over her chest. All of the men around her chuckled as Pete stumbled for words. Rolling her eyes, she held the card back up to Ken. "I'm fucking with you. I didn't want to go to your sweaty sausage fest anyway."

The door to the office opened, revealing Pete's newest secretary. "Oh, excuse me-"

"I told you not to barge in!" Pete snapped at the young woman.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Campbell, but I tried to buzz you for over two minutes-"

"And did I answer?" The girl shook her head. "Then that means don't bother me!"

"Calm down, Campbell." Alice rolled her eyes as she pulled herself out of Ken's arms. "You did nothing wrong, Hildy. Pete's just an ass." She offered the secretary a comforting smile before pushing past her to leave the office.

Ken smiled after the blonde before turning back to his friends. "And that is my cue to leave, gentlemen." The men behind him laughed as he quickly caught up with the woman in a white button up and a black pencil skirt that stopped just above her knees. "Y'know, Al," she hummed in response, "you can still join us for the bachelor's party. Pete can deal with it."

With a chuckle, Alice adjusted her sleeves, rolling them further up her arms. "Thanks for the invite, Cosgrove, but I think I'll pass on watching you and those boys suck the faces of some poor girls who aren't sober enough to see how ugly your mugs really are." Her hand gently and intimately tapped his cheek with a smile as they made their way towards the break room.

Opening one of the upper drawers, she grabbed a clean white mug and the pot of lukewarm coffee. Ken leaned against the counter, content with watching her movements. A small smile grew on his lips as she placed the pot back in the holder and turned to him. "Would you cook me dinner if we were married?"

The woman in front of him almost spit her coffee out at the sudden and odd question. "You ask all your lady friend's that daunting question?"

"Only the ones named Alice Caron."

With a scoff, the blonde rolled her dark and tired eyes. "No, I wouldn't." Taking another sip, Alice grimaced at the almost cold drink. "I can't cook. Unless you like grilled cheese every night, you won't be getting any home-cooked meals from this lady."

"I suppose it's good my mother taught me a few things here and there." His playful smile elicited another eye roll from the woman he watched adoringly. She downed the rest of her cold coffee before rinsing the mug and drying it. "I suppose I could cook for us. Speaking of, if you're free tomorrow night-"

"Kenny," she chuckled as she walked past him with the man quickly following behind, "you keep asking me out to dinner and I might just cave in and say yes." Under her arm was the framed photo of Hank Hartwell that she desperately tried to hide from the prying eyes of the secretaries in the office. "Though I think that might be your plan."

A joking smile formed on his lips as they neared his office. "My lips will not tell."

"Your body did all the talking for them." Alice chuckled as she pressed a kiss to his cheek before parting ways.

The newest secretary, Peggy Olson - a young girl fresh out of the secretariat school - watched the two interact with furrowed eyebrows. Even comparing it to how the other men interacted with the secretaries, there was something more between the two. But she had seen him openly flirt with a few other ladies in the office. With a soft sigh, she shook her head. It was clear she didn't know how things run around this building.

"Everything alright, Peggy?" The bright smile of Joan Holloway grabbed her attention. The redhead sauntered up, leaning her hands against the desk.

The young woman shook her head. "I just..." She trailed off. "Things are just a lot to get used to, you know?" Offering a small smile, Peggy nodded to reassure the woman in front of her. As Joan walked away, she watched as Pete Campbell made his way out of his office and towards her. A groan of annoyance almost escaped her lips when their eyes met.

Alice smiled widely as she gently opened the door to Bert Cooper's office. The older man flipped through a newspaper as his sock-clad feet rested on the corner of his desk. "Hey, Coop," she greeted with friendly tone and a notebook under her left arm, "you busy?"

"Alice!" The man quickly placed his feet back on the ground and set the newspaper on his desk to smile up widely at the younger woman. "My sweet little petunia, how are you? I feel like I haven't seen you in years."

With a chuckle, Alice closes the office door behind her. "I called Doctor Harper about your leg pains and he wants to see you this Thursday at ten in the morning. And you also have a meeting with Roger in about an hour." She took a seat in the chair across from the man. Her sock-clad feet tapped against the soft gray carpet. "Have you heard the new Dean Martin song? It's quite catchy."

"What does Roger want to meet about?" Bert's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Roger only ever wanted to meet with him when things weren't looking too good with an ad man or client. If anything, Roger would avoid Bert like the plague unless he made a surprise appearance in the man's office.

Alice shrugged as she crossed her legs. "You know Rog, he won't tell me unless I sleep with him," she chuckled as her arms crossed over her chest, "and I don't feel like shelling out the money to treat herpes."

Bert laughed at her joke. The man had always had a soft spot for the sweet woman since he had met her outside of Pete's office. Something about her reminded him of his sister - an old soul that knew what she wanted and didn't let anyone or any man get in the way. It helped that she had an eye for art which was all he needed in a secretary. Alice had become one of his closest friends and most trusted adviser.

A knock at the door grabbed their attention. Alice was quick to stand up from the chair to open the door. "How can I help you?" A small but joking smile formed on her lips.

"Is he free?" A familiar voice asked from the other side. Bert craned his neck in a futile attempt to see who the stranger was.

"For Donald Draper? He's always free." Alice took a step to the side to let the famed ad man enter the office. "I'll leave you boys alone. I'll be right outside if you need anything, Bert." With that, she walked out of the office and closed the door behind her.

Chapter 2: moonlight serenade

Chapter Text

HER EYES BEGAN TO DROOP WITH EXHAUSTION. With her chin resting on her fist, she stared down at the romance novel in front of her. While romance had never been her favorite of genres, she didn't quite enjoy the looks she would receive when she attempted to buy a Bradbury or a Vonnegut. Tapping her foot to some Frank Sinatra song that played in her head, she let out a soft sigh. Her eyes began to close with the fantasies of Nurse Secretary by Marjorie Moore.

A knock on her desk jolted her awake. Her wide eyes looked up to see a smiling Harry Crane. The tall man with glasses chuckled as he took a drag from his cigarette. "Nurse Secretary, huh?" He laughed, leaning against the corner of the desk. "I didn't take you for a romance novelist."

"Well, it's better than being the victim of a hate crime because I wanted to read Vonnegut. Plus, my tiny woman brain can't comprehend the deeper meanings." Alice closed the book and set it to the side.

"You're not like the other women," Harry took a deep drag from his cigarette, tapping the ash into the yellow glass tray.

"Or maybe you just haven't met many women, Harry." Alice smiled up at him. Crossing her arms over her chest, she leaned back in her chair. "To what do I owe this pleasant visit, Mr. Crane? None of you visit me except for Ken unless you need me to cover your asses."

"Ken wants me to invite you to Pete's bachelor party." His middle finger pushed his glasses up. "The rest of us would love to have you, too."

"Except for the bachelor himself, I assume?"

Harry chuckled as he stamped out his cigarette in the ash tray. "Pete's clueless when it comes to these things. He's not... good with women."

"Oh, and you are?" Alice laughed gently as she leaned forward against the desk. "Just 'cause you're married doesn't make you an expert on women."

There was an awkward silence between the two. Almost as if her prayers had been answered, both Paul and Ken approached. Cigarettes dangled from their lips as they shared laughter from some sexist joke Paul had just told. The two leaned against the desk. "Looks like Harry here beat us to her." Paul chuckled as he tapped the ash from his cigarette into the ash tray.

"You're not making a move on my girl, are you, Harry?" Ken forced out a chuckle but a frown was threatening to form on his lips at the idea. Taking a deep final drag from his cigarette, he stamped it out in the ash tray. His eyes glanced down to see the romance novel sitting next to his leg. "Nurse Secretary, huh? Well, if you wanted some romance you could've just told me."

"You're a funny one, Kenneth." Alice chuckled as she leaned back in her chair. "But my needs are being just met by my right hand." His face grew red as Alice laughed and plucked the cigarette from his hand to take a drag of her own. "So, this bachelor party, Harry here was saying you wanted me to tag along."

A deeper blush spread on his cheeks as he took his cigarette back. "Well, the other guys wanted to invite you, too."

"Oh, please." Paul laughed as he stamped out his cigarette. "Ken here practically begged Pete to let you come with. So, you in?"

With a soft sigh, Alice nodded her head. "I suppose, but only for you, Ken."

The door to Bert's office opened, revealing the older barefoot man. "Well, I didn't realize there was a party happening out here." He chuckled as all of the men straightened up. "I suppose if you're going to flirt with Miss Caron, please do it on her off hours, gentlemen."

All of the men nodded. Paul and Harry were quick to walk off while Ken turned to Alice. "I'll swing by and swoop you up before we head out." With a wink, he walks off, leaving Alice and Bert alone.

"Alice, dear," Bert started with a sigh, "I do not recommend being with any of those hooligans."

"Duly noted, Coop." Alice chuckled as she stood up and pressed a kiss to the older man's cheek.

HER EYES ROLLED AS THE MEN AROUND HER LAUGHED. Taking a sip of her whiskey, she gently winced at the dull burn it left in her throat. Her heart jumped as his arm tightened around her waist. The man holding her held his cigarette out to her with a conniving smile. A swell of pink dusted across her cheeks - whether it was from the alcohol or the butterflies that filled her stomach, she didn't know and she didn't want to find out either. Taking the cigarette between her fingers, she took a deep drag, letting the nicotine fill her lungs and fly out in a silky veil of smoke.

Even with the women around their group, he found his gaze refusing to leave her form for too long. Even if he glanced over at the other women entertaining his friends, he knew none of them could hold a candle to her. Her corn colored hair was still in, what used to be, a tight bun but had now loosened, letting a few loose hairs fall and frame her face. The flush of rose on her cheeks gave her a naive look, but anyone that knew her knew she was anything but. He was acutely aware of her arm that was wrapped around his shoulders, holding onto him so that she didn't fall over. He loved how her fingers dug into the shoulder of his white button up; he liked to imagine how it would feel if he were hovering over her with her nails digging into his bare shoulders.

His thumb rubbed small circles against the small of her back. His own hand gripped her side tightly, holding her firm against his body. Something about her just made him feel powerful. He noticed the last second glances other men would give her, at the club and even at the office. But one thing that always stuck with him was that she, herself, never seemed to notice those glances because her eyes were usually on him. Even he noticed the way her smile would widen when he came into her view. As much as he enjoyed the bachelor life, there were days where he found himself in his office, imagining photos of Alice on his desk watching him work. Maybe he could even talk her into taking some scandalous photos for his eyes only. He could keep them in his desk, pulling them out whenever he was alone in his office.

"You alright, Kenny?" She whispered in his ear with a small smile. Her lips brushed against his ear, eliciting a faint blush of his own. "You're over here in your own world. I'm starting to feel neglected."

"Just thinking about marrying you."

With a chuckle, Alice grabbed her glass and took a quick swig, emptying the glass. A young woman in a short dress came over, setting down a half full glass and took Alice's empty one. "Thank you." She offered a large, friendly smile to the woman, eliciting a happy grin from the waitress before leaving. "Marriage already, huh, Kenny? You don't waste any time. We haven't even kissed yet."

"Yet?" He chuckled and pressed a kiss to her jawline. "I could always make it happen now, if you want."

"You wouldn't have the balls to." Alice let a smirk grow on her rosy lips as she looked down at him. Her face was mere inches away from his. The whiskey on their breaths melded together in a warm, alcoholic breeze. His eyes darted between her gaze and her lips that were so close that he'd barely have to move to touch her. His breath hitched in the back of his throat at the very idea that he was only an inch or two away from locking lips with Alice Pénélope Caron. After a moment of silence and sexual tension, Alice let out a chuckle and grabbed her glass, taking a swig. "Told you." She whispered as she pressed a kiss to the tip of his nose. "'Frailty, thy name is man.'"

"I thought it was woman?" Paul asked as he took a drag of his cigarette.

"Not after knowing you boys." Ken pinched her side, smiling at the squeal she let out. "Alright, gents," Alice pushed back a piece of her hair as she pushed herself off of Ken's lap, "it's been fun, but I think my bed is calling my name. Pete, have a lovely wedding and I wish the best for you and, especially, Trudy." Rounding the booth, she pressed a kiss to Pete's cheek. Even if she and Pete didn't always see eye to eye, he was still her friend - whether she liked it or not. "Night, boys."

"Let me walk you home." Ken was quick to push himself out of the booth. "Sorry, men. I'll have to see you tomorrow." The men in the group laughed in response, except for one Harry Crane. A frown settled on his lips as he watched Ken catch up with the blonde woman part of him yearned for. Pete kicked the man's foot, chuckling and telling him to get over it.

"It's not fair." Harry mumbles with a pout. Taking a drag from his cigarette, the woman cuddling up to his side is forgotten as he watches Ken snake an arm around Alice's waist as they step out of sight. "What does he have that I don't?"

"He's single, for one," Paul chuckles along with Pete, "and he's been charming her since she got to Sterling Cooper. You just started trying to get under her skirt."

"Ken's like an only slightly nicer version of Campbell here." Harry stamped his cigarette out in the plastic ash tray in front of them. "I don't get what she sees in him."

Chapter 3: cheek to cheek

Chapter Text

SHE STARED DOWN AT THE SCHEDULE WITH FURROWED EYEBROWS. A soft sigh escaped her lips as her mind read it over and over. None of the meetings below had been even mentioned to her. This left her day nearly booked up completely with taking notes for Bert's files. Rubbing her face, she reached into her desk to grab her steno pad. A small smile grew on her lips at the sticky note left in the drawer on top of her steno. 'Don't work too hard, doll.' She recognized the messy handwriting to belong to one Ken Cosgrove. Rolling her eyes with a smile, she pulled the steno out of the desk and made her way into Bert Cooper's office.

"Can you believe this?" Bert asked the moment she closed the door. The newspaper in his hand showed a story of a child that had been hit by a car and survived. "I mean, seriously? They just print anything these days."

With a chuckle, Alice takes a seat across from his desk. Her bare toes flex against the rough carpet. "Maybe you should stick to the front page and nothing past that." Her red fingernails scratch at her ankle. Fucking mosquitos, she thought to herself. "Let it be known that I hate summer."

"Hear, hear, my dear." Bert laughed as he set his newspaper back on his desk. Leaning on his arms with his hands clasped, he furrowed his eyebrows at the sight of her very full notebook. "Please don't tell me that's the schedule for today."

"You didn't know about any of these?" It was Alice's turn to furrow her eyebrows. "I assumed you approved them. When I came in, the notebook was already like this." With a soft sigh, she pinched the bridge of her nose with her slim fingers. Memories of leaving her notebook on her desk filled her mind with annoyance. "I think I might have left out my notebook and I assume people took the liberty of just filling shit in."

"Language, dear." Bert winced at the harsh language she used. Sometimes she forgot who she was around. The other men she worked with would laugh when she used curse words, but she forgot Bert was from a different era, a different time altogether. She mumbled an apology before pulling out a pen. "I suppose we could move some of these meetings to later this week?"

"Way ahead of you." Alice smiled as she began listing out the meetings written down for Bert to decide what should take top priorities. With over half of the meetings being moved to various days of the week, she pushed herself out of the chair and returned to her desk outside of his office. The moment she stepped out of the office, a familiar handsome face rounded the corner. "Mr. Draper," she greeted with a friendly smile as she took a seat behind her desk, "do you have an appointment or are you just stopping by with your devilishly good looks to see little 'ole me?"

The older man chuckled as he took a seat across from her to take his shoes off. "You know I could never resist you, Alice."

Alice had to admit that Don was exactly as dreamy as every woman found him, but she never felt the same draw most felt towards him. The two frequently crossed paths with scheduling meetings for Bert, and they had formed a sort of sibling repertoire. She could make jokes with Don that she couldn't make with some of the other men in the office - most of the men weren't as secure in their masculinity as Don was and they often couldn't take the jokes she would make. "I can't blame you. I'm quite the catch. I find men falling over each other to get a dinner table with me."

Don laughed as he set his shoes to the side of the chair against the wall. "Well, I might have to pay off that lucky fella so I can take his place."

"In your dreams." She rolled her blue eyes with a large smile as she buzzed Bert's intercom. "Mr. Draper to see you." When the older man inside called back to send the man in, Alice waved a goodbye to Don. With a soft sigh, she leaned back in her chair. Unlike the other secretaries, Bert never really had her type any letters for their clients. The most he would have her do is appraise his artwork or schedule some sort of doctor's appointment. That meant that for majority of the day, she was stuck at her desk, either reading a novel or drawing little doodles on her notepad.

Today felt like a doodle day so she reached into her desk to grab her notepad. A small smile grew on her lips at the sight of yet another sticky note left for her. The edges were folded and the back of it was no longer sticky, but it was one she hadn't seen before. 'My office is always open to you.' With her smile widening, she grabbed a blank sticky note and wrote a quick note for Bert, telling him she went to get coffee. Grabbing her notepad and pen, she made her way down the hall towards the larger area of the office.

A small, friendly smile formed on her lips when she approached the desk of Susie Anderson, Ken Cosgrove's older secretary that he liked well enough to keep her around. He had done nothing but complain when he received an older secretary that seemed to be well past her prime, but she knew how things worked and Alice liked her - that was enough for him to keep her around. "Is he in?" Alice asked quietly, pointing her slim finger towards the office door.

"He's on a call, but I'm sure he wouldn't mind you going in." The older woman smiled gently at the blonde. Susie had always loved speaking to Alice. She found the young woman to be one of the more tolerable secretaries in the building, always stopping to chat and even giving her chocolates on her birthday. And she quite enjoyed the person that Mr. Cosgrove became when Alice was around.

Gently opening the door, Alice smiled as she took a step in and closed the door behind her. Ken sent her a smile as he continued speaking to the client on the phone. Taking a seat on the couch across from his desk, she began drawing in her notepad. Her lines were thin and almost wispy. Every once in a while, she glanced up at him for reference, but, for the most part, she had his face memorized. The way the tip of his nose angled slightly upwards or how he would move his lips to the side when he was in thought or even how he'd sometimes bite his lower lip when he looked at her. A small smile grew on her lips as she finished the drawing, only adding small details as decoration.

"What're you doing?" Ken asked, grabbing her attention. He leaned forward against his desk with his chin resting on his fists. "Don't tell me you came all the way to my office and interrupt my very important phone call just to make some doodles."

Rolling her eyes, she tears the paper out and sets it on his desk, sliding it over to him. "I should've drawn your ego, but I don't think it'd fit in even Sal's canvas pad."

"This is..." Ken trailed off as he stared down at the drawing with wide eyes. The silence that filled the room put Alice on edge. She had never been one to really care for critiques of her art, - especially since she never really showed it to anyone but Ken and the boys - but an anxiety grew about in her chest as she watched him stare down at the drawing. "This is really good, Al. You might even give Sal a run for his money."

A small flush of pink filled her cheeks. Her eyes darted to the floor at her bare feet. She mumbled curses under her breath. She had forgotten to put her shoes back on after leaving Bert's office. "I think you're just flattering me out of pity."

"And I think you're full of shit." Alice's eyes widened as she looked up at the man in front of her. His large smile comforted her, but not enough to rid the insecurity she felt every time she glanced at the drawing. "You know this is good and you're being coy." Grabbing the paper, he slid it back over to her. "Sign it."

"I'm sorry?" Her blonde eyebrows furrowed.

"Sign it." He chuckled and slid it closer to the edge of his desk. "This way, when you become the next Van Gogh, I can say I had an original."

"Van Gogh?" Alice scoffed and rolled her eyes. "You want me to be a disgraced and depressed artist that never found love, cut off my ear, and then die a nobody only to be recognized once I'm six feet under?" His eyes were wide as he listened to her ramble. Clearing her throat, she pushed a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "I'd rather be a Monet. Go back to the mother land of France." Her eyes moved back down to her feet that were only covered by her pale pantyhouse.

"I'll take you," his voice grabbed her attention and furrowed her eyebrows, "back to France, I mean. I've always wanted to go. Might as well go when I can meet your folks."

Alice chuckled as she leaned back on the couch. "I'm not sure my grandmother would like you very much."

Placing a hand over his heart, Ken chuckled. "That wounds me greatly, y'know."

"She'd probably just berate you on how you cook. It's what she did to me all throughout my teenage years." Her chuckle slowly died out as her fingers picked at the edge of the notepad. Talking about her family was one of the most dreadful things for her to do. After her mother moved back to France, Alice hadn't spoken to them in nearly a year - and she almost preferred it that way. "I don't think she ever forgave me for burning the butter for her blanquette de veau."

Ken chuckled as he pulled out a pack of cigarettes. "I have no idea what you just said, but you sounded pretty sayin' it." He offered one to her, which she politely refused. Smoking had never become a habit for her, thanks to her mother's constant warnings and fear-mongering. Her mother had told her that if she smoked a cigarette, a monster would form in her lungs and come out of her mouth. As an adult, she knew it was a preposterous old wives' tale, but there was a lingering fear she felt any time she even looked at a cigarette. "Have you thought about visiting them?"

"My family?" He nodded as he took a drag from his cigarette. "To be honest, yeah - as much as I don't want to admit it. Sometimes, I miss them. Then I remember my grandmother hitting me with a wooden spoon or my grandfather telling me that I'll die alone if I never learn how to cook because my looks wouldn't even get me a homeless man or the way..." She trailed off with a frown. Photographs of her father popped into her head. She had never met her father, though she wished she had. She had only been three years old when her father was shipped out to war. A year later, he died. Shortly after that, her grandparents would be especially harsh with her and her mother. When she was ten, her mother and her moved to the United States. Every year, they would visit the family, only to be met with the same harshness they had ran from.

"Alice?" His voice brought her back to her surroundings. "Are you okay?" His eyebrows were furrowed and a look of worry was in his eyes.

Gently shaking her head, Alice pushed a piece of hair behind her ear. "Yeah, sorry. Bad family memories, y'know." She chuckled, but her smile didn't quite meet her eyes. "We can't all have the model family home like the Cosgroves." Forcing a smile, she bit the end of her pen.

With a scoff, Ken tapped the ash into his ash tray. "Trust me, the Cosgrove household was no perfect painting."

"Kenny's got issues? You surprise me." Alice giggled as she pulled her feet up on the couch, crossing her legs criss-cross. "Tell me more."

Rolling his eyes, Ken pushed himself out of his seat and stamped out his cigarette. "If you're gonna be my therapist, then I'm, at least, gonna lie on the couch." Taking a seat next to her, he rested his head in her lap and swung his legs over the armrest of the couch. "It all started in the summer of 1935-" He dramatically narrated before being gently hit with her notepad. "It's no sob story, really. My father was a drunk who got a little too angry sometimes and my mother ate her feelings away. See? It's not like I grew up in a cardboard box on the side of the road, begging for spare change."

Alice's smile dropped and her light eyes grew sad. "I didn't know that. I'm sorry."

"Sorry for what, doll?" Ken chuckled, looking up at her. His own smile dropped when he noticed how she looked at him - with pity. He didn't want that. That was the last thing he needed. "What're you lookin' at me like that for?"

"Ken, just because some people have it worst than you doesn't mean your troubles are any less important."

"I didn't have troubles, okay?" Ken pushed himself up to look at her. "My childhood was great, thank you very much."

"I don't doubt that." Alice crossed her arms over her chest. Her notepad sat on the armrest next to her. "I'm sorry if I offended you, Ken."

His gaze on her softened as she looked down at her lap. Pressing a soft kiss to her cheek, he rested his head against her shoulder. "You didn't offend me. I'm just being an asshole. Truth is, I hate my father. I love my mother, but... I don't know. It seemed like, half the time she just watched. She could've at least tried to stop her husband from beating her son."

Alice ran a hand through his hair as she silently listened. This had been the last thing she thought would happen when she came to his office. What started out as a mission to stave off boredom became an almost therapy session for her closest friend. "Well, he's half the man you are-"

"How do you know that?" Ken's hands gesticulated wildly. "I mean, I don't even know that. What if, when I have a kid-"

"Stop." Alice spoke, stopping him from talking. "Ken, our lives are a series of choices and decisions we make by ourselves. Every morning, we choose to wake up. Every afternoon, we choose to eat lunch, talk to our friends and coworkers. Every night, we choose to either share our bed with someone or go to sleep alone. Your father made his choice to beat you. You chose to resent him. And when you have children, you will choose to either beat them like he did or you can choose to love them and hold them and be a father." Her frown had deepened and bags began to grow under her eyes as tears threatened to spill.

Ken remained silent against her side. His body was practically tucked against hers. If anyone were to walk in, he'd be more than embarrassed - he'd be mortified. But in her presence, he felt more than comfortable. Something she said stuck with him, repeating in his head. 'Every night, we choose to either share our bed with someone or go to sleep alone.' If he were lucky or even confident enough, he could share his bed with her or share her bed - whichever she preferred.