My latest one shot! Idea came to me at two AM. Enjoy!

Almost nothing is historically accurate. I don't care. Enjoy anyways.

Jefferson hadn't read the newspapers that morning. He hadn't known. If he had, if he did, maybe the empty desk wouldn't have surprised him as much. Maybe.

When he'd passed by the room Hamilton usually worked in, he'd expected to find the man hard at work like always. Looking a bit sleep deprived, in need of proper food, just like always. But that morning, the room and the desk were both devoid of their usual occupant.

The odd thing was Hamilton had come in just two days ago. He'd been a little quieter than was typical for him, and though this was definitely not a bad thing, it had been surprising. The feisty immigrant had seemed almost subdued.

And why was everyone else acting so odd? When Jefferson walked into the twelve o'clock meeting, there was none of the usual chatter and small talk. The room was silent as a tomb. Just like it had been all day. Honestly, this was getting ridiculous. Jefferson put on his most cheerful and winning smile, and loudly asked, "What's with the gloomy mood today, everyone? You're all acting like someone has died!"

He expected for the mood to lighten, or at least see a few smiles. Nothing. He received a few disgusted looks, though. A far cry from what he had been aiming for.

"Mr. President, please tell us you are not serious." His secretary of treasury, Albert Gallatin, spoke up. "Surely you know exactly who has died, and even though we know you never got along, you musn't act so pleased, sir."

What on earth was going on? Jefferson looked around incredulously. "Yes, I am serious. What are you all talking about? Who has died? And has anyone seen Hamilton today?"

Everyone averted their eyes. His longtime friend, and now secretary of state, James Madison, grasped his arm. "Thomas," he said softly, "Hamilton is dead."

Oh god. Jefferson suddenly felt almost faint. Yes, he had never gotten along with Hamilton, but that didn't mean he wanted the man dead. James was still speaking.

"...a duel. Yesterday morning, in New Jersey. Weehawken, to be exact. The newspapers all talked about it. He was hit in the ribs, died early this morning." James finished.

Jefferson took a deep breath. "Who was his opponent? I didn't read the newspapers this morning."

"Aaron Burr, Mr. President." One of the men in the back of the room called out.

Burr. His own vice president had been involved in a duel. And actually fired a gun? Burr, of all people? Besides, he thought he and Hamilton had been on better terms lately.

Maybe not since the election, though. After all, it had been a choice between Jefferson and Burr, not to mention with Hamilton's efforts to ensure that Burr would not be the one to wind up with the presidency. That would tick anyone off, Jefferson mused.

Gathering his composure and trying to make it seem as though he wasn't as affected by the news as he really was, Jefferson straightened. "Alright. Someone please find Mr. Burr and bring him in. Dueling is not legal in New York, so there's a small chance he might be guilty of murdering Mr. Hamilton. I don't know if Mrs. Hamilton will choose to press charges or not, but in the event that she does Mr. Burr will need to be informed of his trial. Dismissed."

As soon as the room emptied, James approached him. "Thomas? Are you okay? I mean, Albert was right, we all know you two never saw eye to eye, but this has affected everyone, whether they meant it to or not."

"I'm fine, James. Fine. Just trying to carry out my responsibilities and get justice done." Thomas didn't (couldn't) meet his friend's gaze. Technically, duels were not the President's responsibility, but this one was important. Almost, almost personal.

…

There was never any trial for Burr. The charges were dropped. Jefferson and James attended Hamilton's funeral.

It was a huge affair. There was a long procession, and the streets were full of people who wanted to say goodbye to the man. Hamilton's horse, with his boots reversed in the stirrups, walked through the streets. He was buried in Trinity Churchyard, as guns were fired into the air. A salute.

Jefferson saw Eliza from a distance. She was being comforted by her sister, Angelica (who was terrifying, by the way) and her older children. The younger ones didn't know what was going on.

It was incredibly sobering.

…

The next day, Jefferson came to Hamilton's grave alone. He brought some flowers, though he wasn't exactly sure why.

"Hey, Hamilton. So, I know we hated each other when you were still alive, and you probably still hate me. And I still hate you, so I really don't know what I'm doing here. I guess I just wanted to tell you that a little while ago, I came to the offices, and your desk was empty. And it felt odd, like you'd always been there and there wasn't any reason for you not to be there. Then my secretary of the treasury told me what had happened, that you'd died. And I guess it was odd. I mean, I know that death comes for us all in the end, but you seemed so untouched by it, even though you made it through the war and you lost your own son to a duel. But I also wanted to thank you, for the work you did with the financial system. It has helped a lot. But no one ever heard me say this, so between us, this never happened. Got it? Good. Okay. Goodbye, Hamilton." Jefferson patted the gravestone awkwardly.

As he turned to leave, he whispered softly, "See you on the other side."

Sooo, too sappy? Not sappy enough? And yes, Jefferson really did sober up after he learned about the duel. Fun fact: Aaron Burr tried to start an empire in modern day Texas and almost got arrested for it. Anyways, hope you all liked that! Children of a New Nation will be updated soon, don't worry. ~RedCoatsRedder