Hi friends! This is for CloudyFlight, prompted by their review on One Shots for a Friend. Hahaha sorry this took so long I redid half of it but here it is. Enjoy!
Thomas Jefferson and Alexander Hamilton were rivals. Anyone who saw the two in a room together could figure that out. But rarely did their fights cause actual damage. Sometimes, though, things went a little too far. As they did on one sweltering day in April of 1785.
President Washington was overseeing a cabinet meeting. And, per usual, two of his secretaries were engaged in a shouting match. Again. Over what would likely turn out to be a trivial matter. Again. The others were egging them on. Again. Hamilton had ink covering his fingers and staining his shirtsleeves, his fingers curling around his quills like he meant to use them as projectile weapons. Again. Jefferson was leaning haughtily on his cane, a smirk written plainly across his face. Again.
"Secretary Hamilton, please, sit down. You'll be able to say your piece." Washington admonished. At least Hamilton had the good grace to look somewhat scolded as he sat back down, still giving Jefferson a glare that could set fire to stone. The Secretary of State, leaned forward, as if he was gathering dramatic effect, and began to speak.
"Well, Mr. President, have you considered…." and it all dissolved into a jumble of words after that. Washington knew it was just to waste time, really, to further infuriate Hamilton, who was nearly vibrating as he sat at the edge of his seat, hand moving a mile a minute as he wrote down whatever comeback he was planning.
When Jefferson finally sat down, Washington let out a soft sigh. "Thank you, Secretary Jefferson. Secretary Hamilton. Your response." Another sigh, this one of apprehension. Hamilton could speak for hours, and at the rate this meeting had been going, he might just do so. The small man shot to his feet, and began speaking rapidly. It all faded to background noise inside the President's head. His thoughts drifted around, completely ignoring the arguing secretaries.
I miss Martha, I hope she's doing well.
I wonder how everything is back at Mount Vernon. I can't wait until I get to take a break and go home.
How long is Alexander going to talk this time? At least it was only writing at all hours during the war. But he still does that, too.
Jefferson's coat is very loud. Magenta, really? Must be a French thing. Lafayette, at least, never dressed like that.
It is really hot in this room, maybe we should open a window before the-
He was suddenly dragged from his thoughts by a loud proclamation from Jefferson, one that made his blood boil, because how could that man deal such a low blow.
"Hamilton, when I am President, the first thing I'm going to do will be to send you back to whatever hellhole of an island you crawled off of."
The rest of the cabinet boos their displeasure and laughs their approval. Seemingly buoyed by the praise, and ignoring the complaints, Jefferson plows on.
"Surely they'll be willing to take another bastard with no family. Especially one from their own rotting shores." He is smirking now. Most of the other cabinet members are trying to hide smiles. Hamilton is stock still, a stony expression on his face.
"But, do mine eyes deceive me?" Jefferson looks around, eyes dramatically widened. "Are there people here whom you did not inform of your background? Why, Hamilton, how very rude. The good people deserve to know." The man looks up at Washington, now practically grinning. "If you didn't know, now you do, Mr. President." He gives a little bow, and the cabinet explodes in a roar of laughter, mocking calls, and angry shouts.
Throughout all of it, Hamilton has been standing at his desk, back straight, knuckles white from where he grips the wood. He's looking down at his papers, whatever words he was planning on saying dying on his tongue before he can get them out. Washington feels his heart twist, looking down at the obviously distraught Hamilton.
He rises to his feet, calling out "ENOUGH! This meeting is adjourned. Hamilton, a word, please." He walks briskly to his office, seeing Jefferson cuff Hamilton's shins with his cane on the way out the door. Hears the murmured taunt of "Daddy's calling, Hamilton, better get going." Sees the way Hamilton's throat works as he swallows hard, blinking quickly.
Washington sits at his desk as he waits for his secretary. A few minutes pass, and he's about to go look for Hamilton when a soft knock sounds on the door. "Come in" he calls.
Hamilton stands in the doorway, looking very small. His gaze is focused on the floor, and he holds in his hand a small roll of paper. His voice, when he speaks, is quiet and timid, so unlike the Little Lion that Washington knew during the war. "I expect you have called me here to demand my resignation, sir, and to save you the trouble and embarrassment I already wrote it, sir."
The President is shocked into silence. His still expression is mistaken for anger by Hamilton, who edges back slightly with a faint whimper. He cautiously lays the paper down on Washington's desk, before retreating quickly and hurrying from the room.
Shaken from his reverie, Washington scoops up the paper, steadying his hands as he unrolls it. From the very first line he can tell this is not good.
To His Excellency, President Washington.
Sir, I am resigning from my position as a member of your cabinet, due to what Mr. Jefferson made common knowledge today.
I am aware that you were previously informed of my unfortunate background, but since the public will undoubtedly know in a few days, I thought it best to resign and thus hopefully spare you the embarrassment of having a bastard in your cabinet. In a worst case scenario you can pretend you weren't told of my past.
Included in this letter are a few names that I think may be suitable candidates for the Secretary of the Treasury position.
Yours Most Sincerely,
A. Hamilton
The paper falls from his hands. Washington scans the list of names with no interest. None of them would be able to fully replace Hamilton. Why oh why had he not said something when the boy was in the room? He should have grabbed Hamilton firmly by the shoulders and told him no, you're staying right here with me, and Jefferson can go to hell.
But he hadn't, and now the brilliant young man he'd worked with for so long was gone.
Washington stands up, wondering if he might be able to catch Hamilton before he's gone for good, remind him that he never accepted his resignation.
Alex's POV now
The moment he got back to his office after that meeting, he'd penned a quick letter of resignation to Washington. It would be wrong, he thought, to tarnish the great man's legacy with his past.
Of course Washington had been angry. He'd sat still as stone when Alexander brought the letter to him, and it had taken all his willpower not to bolt, as was most people's first instinct when the former General was angry. As it was, he'd still let out a whimper.
So now he's in his office, shuffling all his papers together, and gathering up the few personal touches in the room. He's absorbed in the task and doesn't hear the door open, doesn't see Jefferson until the man is perched ostentatiously on the desk behind him.
"Ah, looks like someone is in trouble. Was Daddy angry with you? Mad that you hid such vital information from him all these years?" Jefferson doesn't even try to hide his smirk.
Not even looking at Jefferson, Hamilton snaps, "The President is not my father. And I chose to resign rather than deal a blow to his reputation."
"Oh, how noble of you, Hamilton. Now, shoo. Go on. Get out, and do us all a favor. If you're so concerned about others reputations, you can do everyone a favor and stay away. After all, no one wants to be acquainted with a bastard."
Jefferson's words cut deep. Hamilton tries to hide it, turning away from the other man, blinking. He sighs, and gathers all of his things into his arms, ready to head home, already dreading telling Eliza. God, how will they support their family now? He'd have to go back to the law, he supposed. Hamilton had barely made it two steps when the door opens. It's Washington.
"Hamilton, where do you think you're going? Put all of that back down. I never accepted your resignation, and I don't plan on doing so. I'm afraid you're stuck here." He gives the young man a small smile.
He thinks he would hug Washington on the spot if he hadn't had his dignity. As it is, he's sure his expression must convey the intense joy he's feeling. It only grows with the President's next words.
"Mr. Jefferson, could I have a word with you, please?"
As they exit the office, Jefferson turns and gives Hamilton a infuriated glare.
Washington perspective
He'd been about to knock on Hamilton's door when he heard the voices. Though muffled, there was no mistaking Jefferson and Hamilton. He leaned in closer, trying to catch the words. Thankfully, no one was around, or they'd see their President eavesdropping like a child.
Jefferson's voice sleeps through the wood. "...like someone is in trouble. Was Daddy angry with you? Mad that you hid such vital information from him all these years?" Goddamnit, he can practically hear the smirk in the man's voice.
And now Hamilton's response, quieter but not lacking any anger. "The President is not my father. And I chose to resign rather than deal a blow to his reputation." Washington feels his heart twist again. He knew that Hamilton would always shy away from any affection, yet he still kept using fond appellations for the boy. Oh, Hamilton. Your presence would be far better than a perfect reputation. No one is perfect.
But Jefferson is speaking again. "Oh, how noble of you, Hamilton. Now, shoo. Go on. Get out, and do us all a favor. If you're so concerned about others reputations, you can do everyone a favor and stay away. After all, no one wants to be acquainted with a bastard."
Washington doesn't want to listen to this anymore. He flings open the door, not even bothering to knock, and addresses Hamilton.
"Hamilton, where do you think you're going? Put all of that back down. I never accepted your resignation, and I don't plan on doing so. I'm afraid you're stuck here."
The palpable joy that comes over Hamilton's face is impossible to miss. It's rather endearing. Washington smiles softly down at the boy. Now. Time to deal with Jefferson. "Mr. Jefferson, could I have a word with you, please?"
They walk to his office. Neither speaks. When they finally arrive, Washington moves to stand behind his desk, slamming his palms down onto the surface. "Pray tell me, what were you thinking? There was no reason for the debate between you and Secretary Hamilton to become so personal. Hamilton has worked hard to earn his place here. And you may have just reduced all of his efforts to nothing."
Jefferson rocks back on his heels. "So I assume you already knew about his background?"
Washington pinches the bridge of his nose. "Of course I did. He was my chief of staff during the war! I never cared. He is brilliant."
"Mr. President , I understand completely. It is understandable that you would have a small attachment, given the many years you've spent in each other's company. However, I plan to hold true to my promises. If I am President one day, I would very much like to use my authority to send Hamilton back to the Caribbean."
This is almost bordering on treason, but Washington knows that a.) if Jefferson becomes President, it won't be for years yet, and b.) there is no way he will lay a finger on Hamilton.
"Very well then. If I may, Mr. Jefferson, a word of advice?" The man pauses and turns. "Don't make promises you can't keep."
When he passed by Hamilton's office again, he peers around the doorframe, smiling when he saw the boy hard at work again.
Hmmm. I'm not completely satisfied but I hope you all enjoyed this maybe I'll write a sequel or something. If anyone wants a sequel or had a idea for one let me know! Yr. Obedient Svt. ~RedCoatsRedder