Hey! Hope you enjoy this one-shot as much as I liked writing it! Like I said in the description, this is kind of plot-less, but I think it's fun, leave a comment and tell me what you think!

The only lights in his study were the flickering, staggeringly old-fashioned oil-lamp that Alexander Hamilton only kept for the aesthetic, and the tiny pinpricks of unusually bright stars against the black of a sky lit only by the darkness of a new moon. With his head slumped forward against his desk, the lead of a pencil imprinted itself into his cheek, the only thing he heard was the buzzing in his ears that signified total silence. His window was open to combat the stuffy, claustrophobic air of midtown New York in the summer, and he hadn't heard any cars pass by in at least half an hour. If he hadn't been so bone-crushingly tired, Alexander might have been worried at the complete lack of movement that was so unlikely where he lived. Even at 3 in the morning, which, he realised as he lifted his heavy head, it was, there would always be some kind of siren or voice or motor going on in the background.

Behind his closed eyelids, all he could see were the seemingly uncountable different deadlines for this case and that case and the case Adams was supposed to be working on but of course all the work has been "delegated" to him. His time at the Washington Law Firm had supposed to have been his big break, but after more than a year of relentless late nights and weekends, Alexander was starting to consider maybe starting to wonder of he should ask for a vacation. Generally, Alexander liked to think of himself as a hard-working person. He didn't let go of opportunities easily, but when he had thirty different tabs open on a laptop that had already died, six different reports lying in different states of completion untidily on his desk, and ink stains that dotted his hands all the way up to his elbows, it was a different matter. Alexander couldn't remember the last time he had gotten a full night's sleep, and it was finally starting to weigh him down.

A piercing note rang through the previously silent air, prompting the tired, bleary-eyed man to almost fall out of his seat in surprise, spine popping and joints cracking as he jumped unsteadily to his feet in search of his tiny phone, which had already gotten up to its third set of rings. He staggered into the living room, where his fingers finally found the still incessantly ringing phone. Alexander squinted as he tried to get a clear glimpse of the caller id against the obnoxiously bright screen. John Laurens, it read, and he felt a small smile rise to his face, almost involuntarily, before he started worrying about why John would ever call him at such an ungodly hour.

'Laurens?' he started into the phone, worry seeping into the word even as he tried to hide it, 'is anything wrong? Are you alright? Is Martha alright?' he asked, anxiety for both his friend and his tiny daughter blurring his words together.
'I can see Jesus.' John stated into the phone matter of factly, as if Alexander hadn't spoken at all, and he physically flinched at the unusual statement at the unusual hour. After failing miserably for an appropriate response, Alexander's rather addled mind could only come up with a single coherent enough sounding reply,
'...I thought you were an atheist?'
'I can still see him,' John said again, 'He has physically broken through the barrier of belief, and has come before my mind to speak with me.'
'...are you drunk?' Alex asked tentatively, picking out the slurs in Johns words that seemed to mirror his own tired voice, though John seemed considerably more awake than Alex thought he ever would be.

'No. I'm just borderline high on caffeine, which maybe might have had similar affects!' John exclaimed with way too much enthusiasm for that late at night.

'Can one get high off of caffeine?'

'I don't know. However, what I do know is that you have to come over immediately.'

Alexander groaned, 'I could have been asleep you know,' he pointed out grumpily. The voice on the other end of the line just laughed, 'I know you too well, Hamilton. It's a Friday night; there was no way you'd be asleep this early.'

'All right.' Alexander conceded, rolling his eyes, 'but first you have to tell me why I have to come, and it better not have anything to do with deities.'

He could feel John roll his eyes. 'I thought I could trust you to know exaggeration when you heard it! But no. I need you to come over because I can't handle a five year old child who should be fast asleep by now as well as a small turtle that somehow arrived at my doorstep.'

Alexander sighed, he couldn't even tell himself that he was surprised,

'...just let the animal outside,'

'And subject the poor turtle to the cruelties of this world?' he asked, shocked, and Alexander could see him with a hand over his heart, gasping dramatically; it brought a smile to his lips, and he sighed, relenting. 'Fine, I'm coming over, but it's only because I've never seen a turtle before.' he claimed, already opening his closet and digging through the heaps of suspiciously piled clothes for something decent to wear.

'Well then my friend, are you in for a treat!' Laurens exclaimed, before shutting the phone off.

Alexander's car rattled noisily down a mostly quiet road, there might not have been any traffic on the inner streets of downtown Manhattan, but the grid of highways he had to take meant that he was still stuck in traffic five minutes into the ten minute drive. He was going perhaps ten miles over the speed limit, but that only meant he was matching the pace of the rest of the cars. The one night a week he might have gotten a full night's sleep, wasted.

Eventually, Alexander arrived at an apartment block, far bigger than his own. It was nicer too, with glossy wooden window-frames and clearly expensive curtains draped unfailingly in each of the windows. Plants grew on trellises in some of the balconies. There was a light on in only one window, which he supposed made sense, given the hour, and Alexander could see a figure pacing the length of it. A smile crept up his face as he parked his car on the side of the road, and got out to brave the harsh wintery gale.

The door to Laurens' apartment was decorated with hand drawn pictures of plants and flowers snaking up the oak wood, and curling around the knob. Alexander had barely lifted a fist to knock on the door, when it flung open of its own accord to reveal an extremely dishevelled, disordered John Laurens on the other side, one of his hands was clasped in a five year old girls'.

'Hey, Alex!' Martha Laurens greeted, waving at him with her free hand and baring a gap-toothed grin. Alex smiled back,

'Hi Martha!' he said, 'what are you doing up so late? It's almost,' he checked his watch, and his eyes widened, 'three in the morning!'

'See, honey, thats what I've been saying,' John agreed softly, beckoning Hamilton inside and closing the door behind the three of them. Martha just shook her head.

'I'm not sleepy, and besides, I can't sleep without Greeny!' she protested. Laurens sighed,

'I thought we'd already established, that even when we do find him, he has to sleep in the turtle house with baby Martha.' he said. Martha didn't respond; she just shook her hand out of his and ran off somewhere, presumably to her room.

Alexander raised an eyebrow, a skill he had spent precious hours in perfecting, 'I though the turtle was inside? And that was the problem?' he asked.

'Yeah, well, that used to be the situation!' Laurens protested, throwing his arms in the air, 'until someone left the door open!' he said, shouting the last bit. He was rewarded with muffled giggles emanating from Martha's room.

'You can't actually be blaming your six year old daughter,' Alexander asked.

'She old enough to take at least some responsibility,' Laurens muttered, and Alexander rolled his eyes.

George Washington was, at the best of times, a fairly stern man who didn't love surprises. This was, however, not the best of times. He was dead on his aching feet, and it felt as though he hadn't slept in weeks; everyone had told him run for the Senate, George! It'll be easy, George! It was not easy. George had spent the better part of the past two days at his campaign manager's house, forfeiting the luxuries of his own home, and now he just wanted to sleep.

But of course, the world would always work against him, and it would go to any length to do so, because it hated him. George had finally stumbled into bed, not having bothered to turn any of the lights in his house on, when his bare feet hit something cold and hard and smooth, and almost certainly alive. His eyes widened, by which he meant they opened properly for the first time in the day, and he threw himself onto the light switch. As he stared at the horrible, borderline monstrous creature in his bedroom, George could feel a scream building up in his throat. Why, in all that was burning in hell, all that was angelic in the highest peaks of heaven, why in all that could ever be true and good and pure in humanity, was there a half-dead, tiny green turtle, in his sleeping area?

There wasn't much in George's head except pure anger as he made his way, still in his night-clothes, to the tenant across from him, something Laurens, and started to batter the man's door with his fists. Laurens was always up to this or that, and the whole complex knew about his obsession with the animals; there was no way he wasn't responsible for the turtle in his room. George was tired, grumpy and this close to giving up on everything he held dear in his life, which admittedly wasn't much. He certainly wasn't in a very forgiving mood.

'Well, than where could he be?' Laurens asked, for the hundredth time in probably as many seconds. Alexander muffled a groan,

'I don't know,' he said, 'it's a turtle for god's sake! I don't even know how it walked fast enough to get out of your sight!'

Laurens frowned, 'well now I'm kind of feeling slightly offended…' he said slightly, and his friend broke out into laughter beside him.

'this is all so ridiculous,' Alexander said through laughs, 'one always reads about people going missing in the night, but never turtles!'

'Yeah, well that's the situation, and we need to know what we're going to do.' laurens said, crossing his arms. It was always expected of Alexander Hamilton to be the helpful one, the person they could ask if they were in trouble. This time, it was not the case. That was when the front door sounded with a knock so oud, a couple more and the poor door would have blown off its hinges.

'Now what is it.' he muttered under his breath before he dashed off to get he door, honestly worried it wouldn't last much longer, Alexander following him, albeit with much less haste.

'George?' Laurens asked, staring in surprise at the other man, whom he had previously only seen in a brand-named business suit, who was currently wearing linen pyjamas with red and blue stripes.

'Are you alright, did your house burn down or something,' he asked, a little worried for him. Alexander finally arrived behind him, panting a bit. He didn't even seem to notice George while saying to Laurens, 'your house is a pigsty. I think a stubbed my toe at least four times.' Laurens rolled his eyes, 'that's what happens with a five year old child.' he muttered, before turning his attention back to George. 'Seriously, man. What happened?'

'This is all your fault,' the man in front of him hissed, jabbing a finger towards John's chest. Laurens just cocked his head, more confused than annoyed, 'what, exactly, is my fault?' he asked.

'You know very well what I'm talking about!' George said loudly, eliciting a muffled yell from the apartment next door to keep it down, 'I know we haven't spoken, but I didn't think you hated me!' he continued, although noticeably quieter

'...I have no idea what you're talking about.'

George took a deep breath, 'then why, pray tell me, is there a tiny sea turtle in my bedroom, in the middle of the night when all the respectable public should be asleep, including non-humans?'

'Oh!' Alex, who had been leaning on the doorframe unconcerned with the goings on around him, and just trying to stay awake, said. 'Now I get it.' John nodded.

'Yeah, me too.' then, he turned back to George, 'man, I'm sorry.' he said, 'you guessed right, the turtle's mine, so if I could just nip in and get him quickly?'

George rolled his eyes, but stepped aside. 'I thought there was a no pets rule in the complex…' he muttered to himself as he followed John back to the apartment.

'Hey John?' Alex called, 'I'm just going to stay here, where its warm, and make sure Martha stays in bed, ok?' John just nodded,

'Do what you want man.'

…'I'm not sleepy,' said a voice from behind him, and Alex spun around on his feet, almost falling over through a mixture of tiredness and already bad balance. Martha was standing at the doorway to her bedroom, clutching her stuffed Koala, something Alex had won at a airport claw machine in California and given to Laurens.

Laurens appeared in the doorway without George, and with a small green figure in his hands. 'Found the little guy, he was hiding behind George's bed, the poor guy must've been terrified,'

'Gotta give it to Washington though,' Alex said, walking up to the turtle, 'the man handled it with way more dignity than I would've,'

'He's got my vote for senator,' John agreed, 'do you want to hold him?'

'aw, sure I'd love -'

'HEY!' shouted Martha, still in the living room and no closer to sleep than she was when Alex had arrived almost half an hour ago. 'You said I could hold him first!' Lauren rolled his eyes, 'sure, but only because I promised, but then you have to go back to bed, and stay there until morning, ok?' Martha just nodded and skipped up to take the animal, cradling it to her chest like one would a baby. 'He's so cute! And I know just what to name him, too,'

Laurens cocked his head. 'We should name him Alex,' she continued, looking at Alex, who could practically feel his heart melting, especially as Laurens took the turtle back and inspected it thoroughly, claiming that yes, Alex is a perfect name, before holding it out for Alex to take.

'He does look like me, a little bit.' Alex admitted, taking the turtle into his own arms. Martha clapped her hands and bounced up and down, 'he can live with mini-me!' John nodded, before reminding Martha of her promise, and shooing her to her room once and for all.

Alexander followed Laurens around as the other man got to work making his first turtle's cage ready for a roomate. 'Now we need another turtle, to name after you,' he said, 'we already have myself and Martha…' John chuckled, 'and we all know you two would never survive a minute without me!' Alex rolled his eyes, 'suuure, it's not like you called me in the middle of the night to help you look for a turtle, that you didn't even need help finding,'

'We both knew I was calling you more for the moral support than anything else.'

'Haha.' Alex said, with a face straighter than a ruler, and John laughed as he placed the turtle into its new home, and stood back up, dusting his hands on his pants.

'well...I should probably head back home now, if I want to get even an hour of sleep before sunup,' Laurens nodded,

'Sure, yeah that makes sense...also, really, thanks for coming, it was a big help.'

Alex smiled, 'It was my pleasure.'