Chapter 6: Set My Heart Aflame
"C'est juste que Jemmy était vraiment malade hier! J'avais besoin de prendre soin de lui."
"Attendez, attendez une seconde. Jemmy? Sérieusement? Vous avez un nom d'animal pour lui?"
"Quelle? Oh! Attendez! Merde! Je veux dire-! Je juste-! Ce n'est pas le propos! Je vous dis pourquoi je n'étais pas ici hier."
"Haha! Détendez Thomas. Je comprends. C'est bon, mon ami." (1)
"Wait, really? You mean it Laf?"
"Of course. It's really fine Thomas."
Thomas Jefferson sighed and leaned back in his seat, "Thanks for understanding Laf. I knew you'd get it."
Lafayette smirked and turned back to the computer he was setting up, "It's really no problem, mon ami. I can understand you want to tend to your boyfriend when he is in bad shape."
"Yeah, well, it's just- Wait, WHAT?!"
The Frenchman chuckled, "What? You missed out on the final day of the Cabinet assembly to be with Madison."
"Because he was sick!"
"He's always sick, Thomas. Though, whenever he gets really bad, you always go to him, whether he asks or not. I have to wonder..."
Thomas groaned and faceplanted into the table, "It's not like that."
He ruffled the Virginian's hair, "Of course it's not..."
His smile shifted into a smirk, "...When do you meet him for lunch?"
He sighed, "... In about an hour."
"Thought so. Can you hold the fort down while I do a quick, how you say, reconnaissance before I go?"
Jefferson sat up and rubbed the back of his neck, "Sure Laf. Just... Can you explain why I wasn't here to Hamilton? I don't want to deal with him and his yelling today."
Lafayette chuckled and patted Thomas' shoulder, "Sure thing."
He left Thomas in the room and walked down the hall. It was the big day for their team, January twenty-second; George Washington's Inauguration Day. He would be lying if he said he didn't want to be there on stage with the rest of the team, but he had work to do. He, Thomas Jefferson, Robert Morris, and Benjamin Franklin were tasked with moving their home base from Washington's building into the White House while the rest of the team was at the Inauguration, looking professional and smiling for the cameras. They were done moving all the equipment and data and were currently setting everything up in various rooms across the massive building. The fact that he was even in the White House was mindboggling to the Frenchman. He knew that General Washington would be President when they were done fighting for their rights, but he didn't think he'd be with him this far into it. He always thought that he would be long gone by now for one reason or another. Probably gone back to France or gotten himself assassinated if he could make a guess.
He was walking through all the rooms to make sure the team was setting everything up properly before he went out to lunch. The examination went quicker than he thought it would and he was out in about forty-five minutes. He could see a massive crowd gathering, all ready to meet the newest President, despite the biting cold that always plagued January's in America. He really wished he could finish in time to be up there on stage with the General and Alexander.
He walked several miles away to a small bar he knew that served amazing food and some of the best of what Americans sadly called "alcohol" in Washington DC. He was almost there when someone ran into him and knocked him into a brick wall. He was fully prepared to curse the offender out in French, at least until his eyes meet a familiar pair of black ones.
"... Marquis..."
"... Monsieur Mulligan..."
The two men blinked at each other before Hercules Mulligan apparently remembered that he knocked the Frenchman into a wall.
"Ah, man, god. Here, let me help you."
He grabbed Lafayette's hand and pulled him up quickly, showing off a portion of the strength he obviously had. The politician thudded into the taller man's chest and was immediately overwhelmed by the smell of freshly pressed laundry and a light sweetness he couldn't quite name. He was given a very sudden and intimate up-close look of Hercules' face he hadn't had before. He could clearly make out the creases on his face from smiling so often, the faint stubble of his chin from not shaving for a day or two, and that the comedian's eyes were actually a very dark brown, not black. Realizing that he'd been standing there, staring at Hercules for quite a while, he took a step back and muttered a thank you. He was too busy fighting off a blush to make sure he was speaking English.
Hercules responded with a quick "No problem," so he assumed it was English he spoke.
Lafayette slowed his breathing and looked up at the comedian, "S-so, um, what are you doing here?"
"Me? I was gonna meet up with my team at a bar and watch the Inauguration there because it's freezing out here."
"Oh? I was going to a bar too. I am starving and wanted to get some food before I went back to work."
"Huh, what are the odds? Where you headed?"
"It's one not far from here called The Place to Be."
"You're kidding! That's where I'm headed! Care to join me for a bit?"
He probably should have said yes slower and not as enthusiastically, but Hercules walked with him all the way there. The Place to Be was a place he found his during his first few months in America. It was actually the place he first met the living spitfire that was Alexander Hamilton. It was a rundown little hole in the wall, but it had a coziness about it that Lafayette loved. Upon arriving, Hercules introduced him to several people who helped him on his show; various writers, reporters, and technical supporters. They were all very nice and welcoming even though he was basically intruding in on their little Inauguration party. It was interesting to see how close the group was, constantly joking around and teasing with each other. He sat in a booth near the back, waiting for his food while watching the patrons party together.
Hercules sat across from him and smiled his signature smile, "Enjoying yourself over here?"
He chuckled and leaned back, "Indeed I am, but I don't mind the company."
"That so? Well, mind if I chat then?"
"Chat away, mon ami!"
"Alright... What part of France are you from?"
He smiled softly and glanced out a window, "Chavaniac. It's a commune in the Auvergne providence in Southern France. I spent most of my life in Paris, however. I came to America about five years ago to find my own, how you say, American Dream. What about you? Where in this great country did you originate?"
"Actually, I'm from Ireland."
"What?! Really? I had no idea."
Hercules laughed heartily at his reaction, "Hahaha, yep, that's right! I'm from a large town in County Londonberry called Coleraine. My parents and I moved to New York when I was six and, several years later, here I am."
"Wow. I had no idea you were an immigrant yourself."
"Yeah, I'm told it's hard to tell."
Lafayette chuckled and set his elbows on the table, "Now I'm starting to question any of the other assumptions I've made about you."
"I'm more than happy to tell you. I-if you have the time, that is..."
The Frenchman could practically feel his confliction, "... I... I really should go back to the White House... Make sure the setup is going smoothly... but..."
He almost didn't want to think about what the split second spark in the comedian's brown eyes was, "But what?"
"... I... I-i should really get goi-."
Buzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz!
Lafayette blinked and pulled out his phone. It was a text from Jefferson.
"Hé Lafayette. Je voulais simplement vous dire que nous avons fini tôt. Vous ne devez pas revenir, vous pouvez nous rencontrer à l'inauguration. On se voit là-bas!"
He looked at the text for much longer than he needed to. He turned his phone off, stuck the device into his back pocket and practically beamed at a confused looking Hercules.
"... Who was that?"
"Thomas Jefferson. He just informed me that I do not need to return because they finished without me."
"... That means?"
"I'm all yours today, Hercules. My first question. Do you have any siblings?"
That's how it went for the next few hours; Lafayette asking questions and Hercules answering. When he ran out of questions he wanted to ask, Hercules asked him things he wanted to know. He watched the complete Inauguration out of the corners of his eyes but kept his main attention on the Irishman in front of him.
At some point, they decided to start drinking, over the new President if he was remembering correctly. Lafayette couldn't bear the taste of most American alcohol, but for some reason, Hercules could tell exactly what he would and wouldn't like. He figured it was related to the comedian's self-claimed ability to tell exactly what a person wanted, just by looking at them. The Frenchman started having serious gaps in his memory after about five or so drinks. He wasn't sure how it happened, but he ended up leaning against an equally drunk Hercules and telling him a long list of embarrassing and humorous stories about his childhood. Hercules laughed loudly at just about everything he said, making Lafayette in turn laugh and forget where he was in his story, forcing him to start again or start something completely different. The young politician couldn't explain it, but being around Hercules; hearing his voice, feeling his giant yet gentle hands, breathing in just the smell of him; it just felt so right, so natural.
When one of Hercules' reporter friends, his name was John or something, tried to get the comedian to go home, Lafayette insisted he go home with him. If he were sober, he would adamantly deny that he went home with someone he honestly only got to know on a personal level that same night because of any emotional reasons. He'd say that he just didn't want Hercules to be left on his own given how drunk he was or that the young politician didn't have a place of his own to stay tonight. While both of these things were true enough, Lafayette was very very drunk and only really thought about how he didn't want to leave the side of someone who made him feel the way Hercules had made him feel all night.
(1) "C'est juste que Jemmy était vraiment malade hier! J'avais besoin de prendre soin de lui."
"It's just that Jemmy was really sick yesterday! I needed to take care of him."
"Attendez, attendez une seconde. Jemmy? Sérieusement? Vous avez un nom d'animal pour lui?"
"Wait, wait a second. Jemmy? Seriously? You have a nickname for him?"
"Quelle? Oh! Attendez! Merde! Je veux dire-! Je juste-! Ce n'est pas le propos! Je vous dis pourquoi je n'étais pas ici hier."
"What? Wait! Oh! Shit! I mean-! It's just-! That isn't the point! I'm just telling you why I wasn't here yesterday."
"Haha! Détendez Thomas. Je comprends. C'est bon, mon ami."
"Haha! relax Thomas. I understand. It's good, my friend."