Age of each Hamilton child.

- Philip - 19

- Angelica - 17

- Alexander Jr. - 15

- James - 13

- John - 9

- William - 4

- Eliza - 2

You had been babysitting for the Hamilton's for nearly six years since you were thirteen and Mrs. and Mr. Hamilton decided that they wanted to spend Wednesday and Saturday nights away from the children and needed someone watch the young kids. Philip or Angelica could have done it once you had gotten older, but childcare was usually a women's job and the younger siblings didn't listen to Angelica as well as they listened to you. You had grown on the Hamilton's, and they kept you on, paying a dollar every evening you babysat.

The main issue was your father. Thomas Jefferson. Mr. Hamilton's arch-enemy. You had heard ranting from both sides quite often, and although you had told the whole family you were Jefferson's daughter, Mr. Hamilton never somehow seemed to catch on that you were actually his daughter. You didn't look anything or act anything like your father, taking after your quiet, kind-hearted mother with your long Y/H/C hair and bright Y/E/C eyes.

There was also the issue of Philip Hamilton, the boy you had liked since the day you had met him in school. Not many girls got the opportunity to learn, but your father insisted that you get a good education. That's how you got the job at the Hamilton's. Philip asked if you wanted it and you accepted. He had looked quite childish in those days, with his curly hair and freckles.

Now he had grown up, with the same curly hair and freckles, and the humorous gleam in his eyes, but had grown charming. He had also stolen your heart, leaving you helpless, and him unaware.

You sighed slightly. It was a Wednesday evening and the sun was just setting. Angelica and Alexander Jr. had both gone to bed with the 4 younger children. Usually, the two stayed up with you and Philip until their parents got home, but tonight they had both claimed they were tired and went upstairs to their rooms. You weren't sure what they were up to, but they both had that cunning gleam in their eyes when they had a plan.

"Come on, Y/N! Let's go for a walk." Philip said, jolting you out of your thoughts. You looked up at the cheerful boy. God, you could look at his freckles all day. No Y/N, you scolded, you're a Jefferson. It couldn't work.

"A walk? Philip, it's going to rain!" You replied, looking out the window at the dark purple clouds that were blocking out the sunset.

"Please Y/N?" Philip begged. "We can be back before it rains."

You rolled your eyes at Philip. "Fine, but if we get wet, it's your fault."

He grinned and pulled you up. He helped you into your cloak and he put on his jacket. Together you walked out the door.

"Let's go to the park," Philip suggested. You nodded, eyeing the cloud warily. If it stormed you wanted to be back inside. You knew John was scared of thunderstorms and didn't want him to be upset. You reached the bottom of a steep hill leading away from the Hamilton home and you glanced back at the house. You frowned in confusion as the curtain to Angelica's room fluttered shut.

You and Philip made your way up the steep hill from Hamilton's house and to the nearby park, where you often took the younger ones to play in the grass when it was warm. You walked quietly, enjoying each others company.

Philip smirked slightly. "I thank you for the pleasure of your company Miss Jefferson." He kissed your knuckles gently, causing your cheeks to flush pink. He held his arm out for you to take.

You reached your hand up and held his arm. "It is no trouble at all Mr. Hamilton."

The wind picked up and you looked up at the sky. The dark clouds had relocated while you were walking and were now right above your heads.

There was a loud clap of thunder and you jumped slightly.

"Come on Y/N, we best be heading back."

The pair of you picked up your pace and headed quickly back through the park, heading for the exit. You didn't evade the storm, however, and by the time you had gotten to the exit, the torrential downpour had started.

The dirt road had been churned up into the mud and you kept slipping in it.

You reached the top of the steep hill and let go of Philip's arm. You held your balance, slipping around slightly and nearly falling, but managing to catch yourself. Philip wasn't as lucky or as light on his feet as you, and ended up slipping and falling onto his butt.

You bit your lip to keep yourself from laughing at him. He looked up at you, surprise on his face. You started to giggle at him.

"Here." You said in between holding in giggles. You reached out a hand to help him up. He took it and instead pulled you down beside him into the mud.

You let out a gasp and started to laugh harder when you found yourself in the mud next to him. Philip laughed as well, letting go of your hand and standing up. He held out a hand to help you up, and you took it, standing up next to him.

You ended up face to face with him, noses nearly touching. This time he didn't let go of your hand, instead, he snaked his other hand up to your cheek and rested his muddy hand on it.

Quickly, he pressed his lips to yours. He pulled away and looked at your shocked face. His cheeks were pink.

"But I'm a Jefferson." You said in surprise.

Philip frowned in confusion. "And I'm a Hamilton. So what if your father's Thomas Jefferson, you're not your father. You're one of the sweetest people I know."

"Oh." You flushed pink. Before you could think, you pressed your lips to his.

It was still pouring on you and your hair was flat with water, but you stayed together. Eventually, you pulled away and continued down the hill to the house. You stopped on the porch and sat down on the bench under the overhang, together. You had wanted to check on the kids, but you didn't want to disrespect the Hamilton's by getting mud on the floor.

"Miss Jefferson, may I have the pleasure of courting you?"

"Of course Mr. Hamilton."

And there you sat with Philip for probably 10 minutes, holding hands and exchanging quiet talk, until Alexander and Eliza came home.

"Oh, Y/N! Philip! What happened to you two?" Eliza asked as she stepped out of the carriage, eyeing first your clutched hands, then your muddy wet clothing.

You smiled at her. "You should ask Philip that Mrs. Hamilton."

"Philip?" Eliza asked as Alexander stepped out of the carriage. She gave him a look.

"You're throwing me under the carriage!" Philip exclaimed at you. You smiled cheekily at him. "We went for a walk, then the rain started. I slipped and fell in the mud, then pulled her with me."

"It's alright Mrs. Hamilton. I should be going." You interrupted before Eliza could scold her son.

"In this weather?" Alexander questioned. "I don't think so Miss, you can stay the night in Philip's room, he'll stay on the couch. After all, you've done for this family, it's the least we owe you."

"I have a nightgown somewhere that'll fit you," Eliza stated.

"I really mustn't Mrs. Hamilton, my father will worry himself, all he has is the address." You replied shyly.

Eliza shook her head at you. "I cannot let you go in this weather, you'll catch a cold. I insist."

"Okay Mrs. Hamilton." You answered, knowing that you weren't going to win this one.

"Now come inside," Eliza said, grabbing your arm and pulling you up and away from Philip.

"But Mrs. Hamilton, my dress!"

"It is no big deal, I can clean it up tomorrow."

You followed Eliza up the stairs and into her and Alexander's room. You stood while she found a nightgown for you and made you change.

"So how long have you liked my son?" Eliza asked suddenly.

You gasped slightly as your nimble fingers did up the buttons on a house robe Eliza had selected for you. "Um, quite some time Mrs. Hamilton."

"How many times do I have to tell you, call me Eliza."

"Probably at least one more time Mrs. Hamilton."

"You know, he has liked you for years. Writes poems about you."

Jefferson was terrified when you didn't come home on time. He reassured himself, saying it was just the awful weather. But after an hour passed, he started to panic. You weren't one to be late. Jefferson paced back and forth, worrying about you being stuck in the weather before he remembered that you had left him the address for the house that you were watching the children.

"Riley! Bring around the carriage!" Jefferson shouted at one of the slaves in the kitchen, who was sweeping the floor.

"Yes, Mr. Jefferson." She replied, running out of the house and to the carriage. Jefferson scrambled up the stairs into the office. He shoved stacks of paper onto the ground, ignoring the mess he was making. He finally found the sheet of paper. Written on it in your neat writing was 24 Charleston Street, New York City.

You sat quietly on the Hamilton couch, talking with Philip, Eliza, and Alexander. Alexander was the only one who hadn't bothered to put on nightclothes yet. You talked for quite some time, the storm not ceasing at all.

You heard a banging at the door. Alexander stood up, mumbling about you would have to be crazy to be out in this storm. He walked over and opened the door.

"Jefferson?" You heard him say in surprise.

"Hamilton?" Your father replied.

"What on earth brings you here?"

"Sorry to bother you this evening Mr. Hamilton," Your father was acting civil to Alexander! "But I'm looking for my daughter, Y/N Jefferson."

Alexander turned and looked at you in surprise. "Your father is Thomas Jefferson."

"Yes he is Mr. Hamilton, I have told you this before."

"She has Father."

"Yes, she has Alex."

You stood up and walked over to the door, gentle as always, you nudged Mr. Hamilton out of the way and made eye-contact with your father.

"Oh my gosh Y/N." Your father murmured. He pulled you into a hug - a rare show of affection. You were engulfed in his ridiculous magenta coat. "You scared me to death. Come on, we are going home."

You nodded. "One moment."

You walked back inside. Eliza smiled. "Are you still coming on Saturday dear?"

"Of course Mrs. Hamilton. If you don't mind, I'll bring the nightgown back on Saturday."

"No problem at all. See you, darling."

You walked over to Philip. But before you could say anything, he interrupted you. "May I send you letters?"

You smiled. "Of course Philip."

Philip smiled at you and before you could say anything else pressed his lips to yours quickly.

You heard your father growl slightly and took it as your cue to leave.

Your father had let you go to bed right away. Or at least you had ignored him as he mumbled under his breath, and got ready for bed. You stretched and had gotten dressed.

A knock on the door made you look up. "Come in."

Riley poked her head in. "Miss Jefferson? Your father would like to see you in his office." You had never liked your father's method of slaving, it irritated you.

You nodded, standing up and following Riley down the stairs and to your father's office.

You knocked. "Come in."

Before Riley could run off, you grabbed her arm and pulled her inside with you. Riley was the closest thing you had had to a mother since your mother had passed away in France several years ago from a sickness. "You asked to see me, father?"

"A Hamilton. You kissed a Hamilton."

You groaned you knew this topic couldn't be avoided, but really? Riley went over and stood against the wall. "Actually Father, he kissed me."

"Do I look like I care Y/N! You kissed a Hamilton, and not to mention, lied about where you had been going for the past six years!" Thomas Jefferson was a man to be feared when angry. You and he often argued. He just had never seen you. You had always been closer to your mother than father.

"I told you dozen times that I was going to the Hamilton's to babysit! You're always too deep in your work to notice." Your father stood up out of his chair and gave you a look. "And I never lied. I didn't tell you everything."

"Actually, she has told you, Mr. Jefferson. Several times." Riley piped up.

You smirked, and Thomas turned on you, glaring harshly. "You kissed him."

"I think we've gotten that out of the way. I kissed a Hamilton. Twice. And I enjoyed it." You sassed. Your father and you were both very argumental and that led to many conflicts.

Your father was shaking with anger. "He's the devil-spawn. You know what I think of Alexander Hamilton. He's-"

You cut him off before he could continue. "Yes. And do you want to know what Alexander Hamilton thinks of you? He thinks you're an insufferable pig, who slaves innocent people and treats everyone like trash, and I'm honestly starting to think he's right." You spat at him. "And another thing Mr. Age of E. You do not get to dictate who likes me and who doesn't. I'm 19! You can't control me anymore. I'm not your little doll anymore." You turned on your heel, slamming the door shut behind you.

You marched back up the stairs and into your room. Riley followed closely. You opened the door and Riley shut it behind you. You sat on your bed and Riley sat next to you, gently taking your head and running her hands through your Y/H/C locks.

Riley held you gently for at least an hour as you laid in a ball, shivering. You hadn't cried for years, not since your mother had died, and you were not about to start now.

A knock on the door made you both look up. "Y/N, can I please come in?"

"I don't think so." You mumbled.

"Then I am going to talk through the door." Your father said, his voice scratchy through the wood. "I'm sorry. I overreacted. I know I did. I shouldn't have. But you have to see, I didn't see the boy you had fallen in love with, I saw the man whose views are different from my own. I don't want to lose you. I don't want you to get hurt. Ever." Your father confessed.

You looked at Riley who smiled. You stood up, walking over to the door. Quickly, you opened it. Your tall father stood there, his eyes red as if he'd been crying.

He opened his arms and you hugged him tightly around his waist. "You're okay with it?" You asked leaning back. Thomas nodded, a slight grimace on his face.

] Later that night, around 6 pm, you sat listening to James Madison and your father, when a knock sounded on the door. Madison got up and looked through the curtain. "It's Hamilton and Hamilton spawn." You rolled your eyes at his words.

Your father got up and answered the door. From where you were seated, they couldn't see you. "Mr. Hamilton. Philip." He nodded at each.

"Sir," Philip spoke. "I was wondering if I could court your daughter?"

You froze. Madison looked at you with a face of shock.

Jefferson grinned. "Straight to the point, I like that." He glanced over at you. "Yes. You may."

You smiled, getting out of the chair and walking to the door. Philip beamed when he saw you.

"I was actually just headed on a walk. Would you like to attend me?"

Thomas raised an eyebrow and you looked at him. "Of course."

You two walked down the lane, far enough to be out of earshot of your fathers, but not eyeshot.

"I can't believe your father said yes." Philip marveled, once you were out of earshot. You nodded in agreement.

"How'd you convince your father that I was okay?" You asked him.

"He already knew you, plus mother may have threatened me."

You laughed, picturing Eliza threatening Alexander. "Lovely."

Philip nodded, staring at your face. "Lovely." He kissed your cheek, not wanting to go any farther in front of your Fathers, who were both waiting on the front porch.