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the right hand of the father

Chapter Text

The citizens of New York were used to the weird, wonderful and exciting consequences of sharing the city with a largely supernatural population. At most things, they turned a blind eye, uninterested in whatever paranormal nonsense had happened in the past week. Since the reintegration of supernatural species into normal society, the city had adjusted. Naiads and water elementals had taken over the fire departments. Hunters now occupied the ranks of the police force and secret service. Essentially, New York’s citizens had made the supernormal their normal.

That wasn’t to say, however, that the supernatural never made headlines, Alexander would know. As the country’s only angel, Alexander’s halo and wings attracted stares wherever he went. During his childhood Alexander had been followed by news networks religiously, everyone wanted to get a glimpse of God's newest angel. At first Alexander it had annoyed him to no end, he’d had virtually no privacy. He’d also felt bad for his surrogate mother, she hadn’t asked for an angel as a child. She’d just found him in a park and couldn’t find it within herself to leave him there.

Thankfully, at twenty-two years old, news networks had calmed down a little bit. Now, the only ones who tended to follow or harass him were the die-hard Christians asking for a message from their God. Not that Alexander would know, the Big Guy barely talked to him. In fact, the last time they’d talked was when Alexander’s surrogate mother had died. God really had the worst kind of timing. 

It didn’t help that he wasn’t exactly the most… in touch with the gravity of mortal death. Really, Alexander shouldn’t have expected much from the Big Guy, when you ruled the land of the dead it was hard to understand why people thought death was so bad. Even though Alexander knew that Rachel was happy, it didn’t stop her death from hurting. 

For the most part, Alexander’s day to day life was relatively uneventful. He worked from home on his political blog and ghostwriting. He spent most of his downtime reading. Even his time outside the house went relatively smoothly. To most of the citizens of New York, he was just another citizen.

Though, this was because most of the time, Alexander tucked his halo and wings away to avoid attention. For the most part, this was a great strategy. He could go through his day to day life without staring and questions. He could go on dates with his girlfriend without being stopped in the street by a random passerby.

Sometimes, however, it led to some… misunderstandings during his interactions with other people.

“I really can’t make your coffee any hotter sir.” The barista sighed. He was a humanoid but had the telltale grey markings of a warlock twisting their way up his dark forearms. “It’s illegal to serve humanoids any beverage above one-hundred-ninety degrees Fahrenheit. Any hotter can cause severe burns and damages to human tongues.” Alexander groaned in exasperation. He just wanted some caffeine, was this too hard to accomplish?

“I’m not a human-” he glanced down at the barista’s nametag, “-Aaron. C’mon, can’t you just trust me?” Alexander had come to the café in search of his daily caffeine fix, Eliza was supposed to meet him there in twenty minutes. 

They’d recently been trying out local cafes for their weekly Tuesday coffee dates. They’d slowly made their way through Manhattan and Elixa had sent him the address for Cafe Revolution, a local french cafe on fifth avenue. His first impression of the cafe was good. It had dark wooden tables and classy black finishings. 

He really had been loving this cafe until this barista had given him lukewarm coffee at a measly one hundred and sixty-five degrees Fahrenheit. He tapped his foot impatiently, making the barista sigh.

“I could make it hotter,” the barista amended, “But I need some government-issued ID or physical proof of your inhuman nature. Otherwise, this is the hottest I can serve the coffee. This isn’t personal, it’s the law.” 

“I don’t see why this is such a problem,” Alexander complained, “Every other place gives it to me hotter. I mean, isn't my problem if I burn my tongue off, not yours?”

“It’s our problem if you decide to sue us,” Aaron said. As a recent graduate of Columbia Law, Alexander knew this but sighed anyways. “Now, if you can give me ID or proof then I’ll heat up your coffee for you. Otherwise, that’s the hottest I can make it sir.”

Alexander sighed, reaching into his pocket for his wallet. He grabbed his driver’s license passing it over the counter. Aaron accepted it silently, furrowing his eyebrows as he read the ID. He raised a skeptical eyebrow. 

“Angel?” he asked, “Am I reading that right?” Even though he was coming, Alexander couldn’t help but roll his eyes in annoyance.

“Yessir,” Alexander said, sighing impatiently, “Now. Can I get my coffee, please?”

“If you’re going to give me a fake ID at least choose a more believable species next time,” the barista said. His tone screamed condescending even though his expression oozed professionalism. “Though, the fact that you have a fake ID to get your coffee hotter than legal is admirable.”

Alexander rolled his eyes. It had come to this. The things he did for his daily caffeine fix. He cracked his neck, willed his halo to appear and released his wings from his back. The wind whooshed around him, knocking over a couple of sugar packets in the process. Around him, he could hear the whispers of other cafe patrons. He raised an eyebrow.

“So, about that coffee-”

“Coming right up sir,” a new barista entered the conversation. He smiled crookedly. The barista was a dragon, made obvious by his scaly scarlet wings and small horns protruding from his head of brown curls. His skin was tanned, freckles sprinkled across his face. As he smiled, his hazel eyes sparkled with amusement, dimples displaying themselves proudly on each cheek. “Sorry about Aaron here. He’s a bit of a stickler for the rules. I’ll fix your coffee for you.” 

“You should also be a stickler,” Aaron muttered, “If you want to keep your job.”

“Lafayette won’t fire me,” John said, smiling, “He likes me too much.” Aaron rolled his eyes, walking back to the cashier to attend to the growing line of customers. “He’s rolling his eyes because he knows I’m right.” Alexander stole a quick look at the new barista’s nametag. JOHN was written messily in yellow chalk.

“Who’s Lafayette?” Alexander asked, curiously.

“He’s the owner of the cafe,” John said, “He’s like, practically a step down from French royalty, which basically means he never has to work a day in his life. He likes to start businesses. This is his newest pet project.”

“I see,” Alexander said, “Interesting.”

“Indeed,” John said, smiling, “Now, uh, can you hand me your mug?”

“Oh, right, yeah,” Alexander said, handing the cup of coffee across the counter, “Thank you, I appreciate it.” 

“No problem man,” the dragon shrugged. He took the coffee and breathed a steady stream of fire across the mug’s surface. He smiled, offering the cup back across the counter. “I’m sorry about the trouble. Here you go, a steamy three hundred degrees.” Alexander accepted the cup gratefully, taking a tentative sip. He smiled.

“It’s perfect, thank you.”

“Anytime my man.” the dragon said easily, “Have a nice day.” Alexander waved, turning to take a seat in the cafe. He spied an empty table in the back corner of the cafe and set his laptop bag on the tabletop. He could get a little bit of work done before Eliza arrived.

He set his bubbling coffee aside as he opened his laptop to get to work. He had an interview for Senator Washington in a couple of days so he was fixing up his resume. The senator’s staff had an open position for the head speechwriter. Everything on this paper had to be perfect, he needed this job, this was his way into politics. He frowned, scrutinizing his computer screen. His fingers flew across the keyboard, typing without a glance. Mostly, this was because sometime in this ownership the letters on the keys had rubbed off. This was due partially to overuse, partially to his supernatural strength. As he began falling into his workflow a pastry was placed on his table. He frowned at the golden baked good.

“Hello, mon ami.” 

Alexander blinked, realizing that the plate hadn’t magically appeared on the table. The stranger was wearing a matching apron to John and Aaron, telling Alexander that he was another barista. His nametag read a simple LAF in loopy pink writing. This must’ve been the Lafayette that Aaron and John were talking about. The stranger was dark skin the same colour as Alexander’s bubbling coffee. He was smiling charmingly, his face framed by perfectly sculpted facial hair. His hair was tied up in a poofy bun on the top of his head. His defining feature, however, was the insect-like wings fluttering on his back. A fairy.

“Uh, hello?” He said awkwardly, “Is there something wrong with my order?” 

“No, no, I, ah, what is the word?” he trailed off, searching for the word. English clearly wasn’t his first language, his words were coated with a thick French accent, “I wanted to come to see you for myself, yes?”

“I’m not a zoo animal,” Alexandre said, affronted, “I’m not something to gawk at.”

“Of course not,” he said, nodding, “I am Lafayette, the baker pour la boulangerie. I simply heard from my dear John that we had a holy visitor.” Privately, Alexander wondered why Lafayette was downplaying his role at the cafe.

“I guess that would be me,” Alexander admitted, shrugging. Lafayette beamed at him.

“I just wanted to say-”

“Is this about religion?” he asked pointing at his halo, “Cause I have some answers, but definitely not all of them.”

“Ah, non,” Lafayette said, “I just wanted to say that I thought that I thought you looked hungry.” He pushed the pastry on the table close to him.

“That’s for me?” 

“But of course!” Laf said, smiling, “I would not bring it if it were not, no?” He pushed the plate a little close to Alexander. “Mange. It’s a family recipe.” 

“Angels actually don’t eat,” Alexander said, shrugging. “But I appreciate it.”

“You cannot eat?” Lafayette asked, “That sounds like a sad existence. I could not imagine a life where I could not eat my wonderful pastries.”

“It’s not that I can’t eat,” Alexander clarified, “I just don’t need to. Angels survive off of their own heavenly power.”

“Ah! I see,” Lafayette said, nodding, “Well, I do believe you should eat this strudel anyways. You can taste food, yes?”

“I mean, yeah, but-”

“Then eat!” Lafayette said, smiling, “I insist.” Alexander glanced around and seeing no other option he grabbed the strudel of the plate. He examined the golden pastry, scrutinizing it, before nibbling off a corner hesitantly. He smiled slightly, swallowing the pastry. 

“It’s delicious,” he said, “Thank you.” Lafayette waved him off.

“Anytime my friend,” he said, “I did not want to interrupt your work without a gift, yes? Your work looks very important.”

“Well, it is important work,” Alexander said truthfully, “But thank you for the pastry. It’s wonderful.” The fairy smiled brightly, his wings fluttering slightly.

“Of course, anytime,” he said, “I do hope you become a frequent customer of our little café, you seem very interesting, ah, I never caught your name-”

“Alexander. Hamilton.”

“Alexander!” he said, triumphantly. “You should come around one time when John and I are not working, we could talk, hang out.”

“Well,” Alexander grabbed the napkin from under his coffee cup. He scribbled his name and number down. “Here. You can text me and we can meet up sometime, yeah?” Lafayette beamed at him, slipping the napkin into his apron.

“Wonderful!” he said joyfully, “Well, enjoy your pastry and coffee, Alexander Hamilton.” Alexander smiled softly, biting his pastry. The warm apple flavour settled in his stomach, delicious.

Chapter Text

John screamed internally as Lafayette waltzed into the back room returning from his conversation with the angel. Even before the smaller man had whipped out his wings and halo he’d already taken John’s breath away. His tan skin was perfect, beauty marks scattered across his face in perfect patterns. His dark hair curled charmingly at the ends and his honey brown eyes were like pools he could drown in. John had to admit, he was a little smitten.

John could already tell that the angel was passionate. He had a fire in his eyes, something that couldn’t be faked or replicated. John’s eyes couldn’t help but linger on the angel as he worked. He typed like, ironically, a speed demon. It was a little scary, he never glanced down, working with dedication. John could tell that whatever he was working on, the angel was truly dedicated to it. John wished he could do work with the same fire. 

Obviously, being a barista wasn’t John’s idea of a dream job, but he needed to work to finance his art. Thankfully, Lafayette had offered him this job, despite him being awfully under-qualified. So, even though working in a cafe wasn’t the greatest gig in the world, it paid the bills, something that art wasn’t able to go, for now, at least.

So seeing the angel working with a real passion was inspiring and John couldn’t take his eyes off him

Of course, Lafayette had noticed John’s eyes lingering on the angel and smirked at him with an unsettling spark in his eyes.

“Does my dear John have a crush?” Lafayette said mischievously.

“No,” John insisted, hoping his face didn’t look as red as it felt, “I don’t know what you’re talking about Laf.”

“Oh, but I think you do,” Lafayette said, “Do you want me to go talk to him? Be your… wingman?” Lafayette wiggled his eyebrows, pointing at his own set of insect-wings. John groaned.

“That joke was awful,” he said, “And no. I don’t need a wingman. If I wanted to get his number, I definitely could. With or without your help.”

Of course, Lafayette was John’s best friend for a reason and read him like an open book and walked straight up to the beautiful angel’s table with a strudel in hand.

“No, no, no, this is not happening,” John mumbled, facing the back wall to hopefully hide whatever atrocious shade of red his face was turning.

“Look, Laurens,” Aaron said, “I don’t care whatever crisis you’re having, but can you have it while working on orders for me?” John rolled his eyes.

“Actually, I’m taking my break, Burr,” he said, “The line’s not too bad.”

“But Laurens-”

“You’ll be fine,” John said, walking into the break room. “I’ll be back in ten minutes!” He walked through the back doorway into the cafe’s small breakroom. He took a seat at the table, taking his phone out of a pocket. He opened Candy Crush, hoping to take his mind off of Lafayette’s craziness. He fell into that odd headspace where nothing really mattered except for matching the little candies on the screen. 

Soon enough, Lafayette walked through the break room door, smiling widely.

“He was very nice Laurens,” Lafayette said, smiling innocently, “I don’t know why you didn’t walk up to him yourself.” Lafayette took a seat next to John resting his feet on the table. If anyone else did this, Lafayette would probably chew them out for it, but as the owner, Lafayette had special rights. 

“Why do you do this to me Lafayette?” Laurens asked rhetorically, “What have I ever done wrong?”

“I could name a couple,” Lafayette said playfully, “Like maybe that time you set my house on fire?” Laurens pouted.

“Rude,” he replied, “You know that wasn’t my fault. I had the hiccups, okay? And I didn’t burn it down, I just… toasted it a little.” Lafayette threw his head back in laughter.

“My house was scorched John,” he said, “It was practically black.” John winced, yeah that wasn’t one of his best moments.

“Still! Not my fault!” he insisted, “You knew what you were doing when you cursed my water.” Lafayette shrugged innocently.

“Perhaps,” he said coyly, “But your little fire did make sure I could renovate that bedroom. It was looking awfully plain.”

“So really, you owe me!” Laurens declared.

“May I also remind you about the time where you and I roomed together even after you burned down part of my house?” Lafayette said, “Because I thought that was really big of me.”

“This is unfair-”

“May I also remind you who gave you this job even when you were horrendously underqualified?” John pouted.

“You are the worst Lafayette,” he muttered, “I can’t believe you. Using our friendships against me.”

“I am only doing what is best for your love life my dear John,” Lafayette said, “Your love life has been disastrous ever since you left that damned satyr.”

“His name was Francis,” John said, “And I only left him because I wasn’t into him anymore.”

“But you are clearly into the pretty angel, yes?” Lafayette said, “I am merely greasing the way!”

“That was awful, please never say that again.”

“You are missing the point, dear Laurens!” Lafayette said, “This is good for you!”

“You are the worst Lafayette,” Laurens muttered, “The actual worst.”

“If I was the worst I wouldn’t have gotten his phone number and a promise to hang out, though, would I?” Lafayette smiled smugly, passing John a napkin marked up with a simple phone number and name.

Alexander Hamilton 555 343-3554

His heart fluttered in his chest. Lafayette smiled smugly, holding the napkin in front of John’s face proudly. The angel’s name was Alexander. Alexander’s handwriting was a gorgeous sort of loopy script. God, was there something that wasn’t perfect about this guy? 

Well, he was an angel, so maybe John was on to something there.

“You’re crazy, the best,” John said, smiling widely, “I don’t know how you did that, you crazy person! I can’t believe this, oh my God!”

“Literally,” Lafayette said, “Actual God.”

“Not what I was talking about,” John said, “But, yes, I guess you’re right.”

“You can thank me later,” Lafayette said, smiling widely, “But for now, get back out there. You know Burr can’t deal with customers alone, not for long. I would hate for your tips to go down today.” John grimaced. Too true. Burr had the emotional range of a teaspoon.

“Okay, boss.” John sighed. He walked back through the door wanting to turn back around when he spotted the long line that had formed. He rested his hand on Aaron’s shoulder. The warlock jumped in surprise.

“Laurens,” he said, “Is your break done?”

“Yeah,” he said, “Lafayette is finished embarrassing me, so I’m back.”

“Well, that’s good,” he said, “You can help me out then. It’s gotten a bit busy with only one person behind the counter.” John glanced at the front of the store, seeing that Burr was right. There was a lone of probably ten people waiting impatiently for their morning coffee.

“I got the cash,” he said, “Start on the drinks.” Aaron sighed in relief. Apparently, he agreed with Lafayette and John and realized just how bad he was at actually interacting with people. Even though Aaron was obviously overqualified for a minimum wage barista job, he was still pretty awful at the part where they interact with people.

“Thank you,” Aaron said gratefully. John shrugged, focusing on the first customer. Slowly, he got into a rhythm. Customers would rattle off their order, he’d write it on their cups and pass it down to Aaron. It was smooth, satisfying. He got through the line with ease, quickly arriving at the last customer.

She was beautiful, that was undeniable. She had pale skin with a slight blue tint. She had monolid eyes, scanning the menu above John’s head. Her dark blue hair was tied in a low ponytail, revealing her gilled ears. She was a naiad, a water nymph. Unlike the other customers, she hadn’t humphed impatiently while she waited in line. Her eyes scanned the menu above his head thoughtfully. John cleared his throat in an effort to draw her attention to him and off of the menu. It worked, the naiad’s eyes focusing on John. They were kind and attentive. His wings fluttered involuntarily.

“How can I help you today?”

“Oh, yes,” she said, smiling, “Could I get a medium iced peach tea, please? For here?” John hummed.

“Burr!” The warlock’s head snapped to attention, focusing on John.

“What?”

“An iced peach tea! Medium!” Burr nodded, grabbing a glass and starting on the order.

“That would be four dollars.” She reached into her wallet, passing four one-dollar bills across the counter.  “And, uh, I won’t be making your drink. Don’t worry. Aaron, our resident warlock will. Dragons and ice, ah, well, we don’t mix well.” The naiad giggled. Her laughter was like bells, making John smile along with her unconsciously.

“I could’ve guessed that,” she said, nodding, “Fire and water don't typically get along.”

“You would know,” John agreed. She hummed, smiling.

“I would,” she agreed, “Part of the naiad brand is knowing about water and avoiding fire.”

“The dragon brand is pretty much the opposite,” John said, smiling.

“But, uh, that doesn’t apply to species,” she said, smiling, “There’s nothing wrong with mixing water and fire species.”

“Uh, yeah,” John said, “Totally.” She smiled at him. John cleared his throat. “Anyway, I hope you enjoy your tea.” He handed her her receipt. She accepted it easily, sliding it into her purse.

“Thank you so much,” she said kindly, “Actually, my boyfriend is waiting here for me? His name is Alexander, I’m not sure if he’s here yet. Small guy, tanned, brown hair? I’m supposed to meet him here.” John’s heart dropped in his chest. Was the angel already taken?

“The angel? Halo and all?” She nodded enthusiastically.

John was crushed, of course, the angel had a super pretty naiad girlfriend. Typical.

“I guess he had to unveil the holy accessories, huh?” she said, “For the coffee?”

“Uh, yeah,” John said, he said, shaking off his disappointment, “Our other barista wouldn’t heat it up without evidence.”

“Oh, I totally get it,” she said, “It is the law.”

“Right, of course,” he said, “He’s in the back. The last table, can’t miss him.” He pointed towards him for good measure. As he looked at the table the angel was hunched over his computer, typing quickly and sipping his coffee. The pastry Lafayette had given him was gone, crumbs scattered on the plate. As the naiad followed his gaze, her face lit up in a smile. It was a really pretty smile.

“Thank you,” she said, gratefully.

“Of course,” John said weakly, “Your drink will be waiting for you at the other end of the counter.” She smiled at him beautifully, practically gliding to the other end of the counter. He sighed, his eyes lingering on her as she walked.

“You’re having quite the romantic crisis today dear John,” Lafayette said, sneaking up on him from behind. “The angel and now the naiad? My, my, you're insatiable.”

“She’s his girlfriend,” John mumbled sadly, “Can you believe that? I mean, they’re both devastatingly gorgeous, so should I really be surprised?”

“Ah, but isn’t that so much better?” Lafayette said, “Perhaps you can get them both?”

“Lafayette, I know you can pull like nobody’s business,” John said, “But I don't exactly have your charms. I’m awkward, my wings knock shit over all the time, and generally, not someone people are into.”

“Don’t sell yourself short mon ami,” Lafayette said, “You are very lovable! You caught me, no?”

“But I’m your friend, that’s different,” John said, “Attracting friends and potential boyfriends or girlfriends is very different.”

“I would have to disagree,” Lafayette said, shrugging, “But you really should have more confidence in yourself, dear John.” John found his eyes drifting back towards the far table. The naiad had taken a seat next to the angel. John really didn’t understand how two beautiful people couldn’t possibly exist in such close proximity.

Chapter Text

“Hey there Betsey.”

Eliza’s boyfriend had a small smile playing at his lips. He was as gorgeous as ever, his bright white wings sparkling in the sunlight streaming through the window. They'd been dating for a couple of years now and Eliza had only fallen harder. He stirred his coffee magically, his finger drawing lazy circles in the air. She smiled back at him.

“Hey there Alexander,” she said, slipping into the seat across from him, “I see you had to break out… the holy accessories.” She smiled playfully, glancing at his halo. Alexander laughed lightly.

“Unfortunately,” he sighed, “The barista thought my ID was a fake. You gotta do what you gotta do.”

“The dragon?” she asked, surprised, “He doesn’t seem like the type.”

“No,” Alexander corrected, “The warlock.” Eliza glanced back towards the front of the coffee shop. There were, in fact, two baristas working behind the counter. The first was the dragon who’d served her at the cashier. He was still taking orders from customers, smiling charmingly. The other barista looked like a normal human, with dark skin, close-cropped hair and harsh eyes. His posture was tense, he looked uptight. As Eliza gazed at him across the coffee shop, her eyes were drawn to the swirling markings of a warlock on his arm. She turned back to Alexander.

“He definitely looks more the type,” Elia conceded, “How did they take it?” Alexander shrugged.

“The warlock was kind of embarrassed,” he said, “But the dragon thought it was cool. I’m just glad I got my coffee.”

“Speaking of the dragon,” Eliza said, cracking a small smile, “He’s cute, right?” Alexander smiled, nodding.

“Definitely,” he agreed, “He’s your type.” Eliza laughed, lightly.

“And what’s my type?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. 

“Well,” Alexander said, glancing down at himself jokingly, “Great hair, pretty eyes, smoking body. He ticks all the boxes.”

“And what is this list based off of?” Eliza said playfully.

“Well, your beautiful boyfriend of course!” Alexander said, nudging her lightly, “Who else?”

“Well, he’s your type too,” Eliza countered, “Cute face and a pretty smile.”

“You’re not wrong,” Alexander agreed, sipping his coffee, “You have a very cute face and a very pretty smile.” Eliza felt the blood rush to her face and shoved his shoulder lightly.

“You’re too nice to me,” she said, smiling. He shrugged, smiling.

“I think I’m just right,” he disagreed, sipping his coffee. She smiled at him, taking a sip from her own drink. For the first time, she noticed an empty plate on the table.

“What’s that?”

“Another barista brought it for me,” Alexander said, “His name was Laf, he works in the bakery in the back. It was a strudel.” Eliza smiled.

“Someone got you to eat?” she asked, surprised, “I need to thank them personally.” Alexander rolled his eyes playfully.

“You’re mean,” he said, “I eat.”

“No,” Eliza said, “You insist that angels don’t need to eat.”

“Technically-”

“If you need to use the word technically it’s almost never a good argument,” Eliza said, “Just because angels can survive without food doesn’t mean you should. You and I both know that you feel better when you’ve eaten.” Alexander sighed.

“Fine,” he sighed, “That strudel did hit the spot.” Eliza laughed.

“Did it?” she asked, “I might have to get one.”

“I’ll get it for you,” Alexander offered, stepping out of the booth, “Do you want it heated up?”

“Yes, please.” Alexander nodded and walked towards the counter, hitting another cafe-goer with his wing accidentally.

“Sorry about that,” he said. The stranger shrugged after shaking off the shock. “Should probably put these away anyways.” He cracked his neck, tucking his wings and halo away. Eliza gave him a thumbs up.

“Thank you.” He waved her off, continuing his walk towards the counter. She hummed, drumming her fingers on the table. She pulled out her phone and began checking her notifications. The first few were unread messages from Angelica, her sister. She skimmed them, just as she suspected, mostly her complaining about the littering in Central Park. She typed a quick sympathetic, but clearly dismissive, response.

“Hello, there dear.” Eliza groaned mentally, she didn’t have the energy for this right now. 

“I’m really not interested,” she said, “Could you please go now?”

“No, I don’t think I will,” the stranger said, “Come on, look at me, darling. It’s rude to talk to someone without looking them in the eyes.”

She slipped her phone into her pocket. She grimaced, looking up at the stranger for the first time. He must've just come in, she would've noticed him before.

He was leaning on the table, one perfectly manicured hand resting on his hip. He had perfect skin, unmarked, unblemished. He was smiling charmingly, his perfect teeth sparkling in the sunlight. His face was framed by expertly groomed facial hair and perfectly coiled curls. His eyes were dark, almost like water in the darkness of night. The drew her in, she felt like her brain was turning off. She had to make a conscious effort to string together coherent thoughts.

“Uh… hi.”

“Hey there darling,” he drawled, leaning down on the table, “Have you changed your mind?” The world felt like it was moving in slow motion, like her world was submerged in honey. Everything was fuzzy, undefined. Everything, except this beautiful, beautiful stranger.

“I…”

“Come on sweetheart,” he purred, reaching forward to stroke her face. She leaned into it, closing her eyes. His hands were warm, comforting. “That’s it,” the stranger whispered, “Feels nice, doesn’t it?” Eliza hummed in agreement. It was nice. She sighed content as the stranger’s thumb stroked her face lightly.

“Hey! Asshole!” Alexander stomped towards the table. “Get the fuck away from my girlfriend!” Alexander’s voice snapped Eliza out of whatever trance she’d fallen into. The world sped up, back to normal speed. She blinked, sitting up straight. What happened? The man scowled, dropping his hand. Her boyfriend was holding her strudel on a plate. returning from the cafe’s front counter.

“Clearly she wants it,” the stranger hissed, “You’re clearly not giving her enough attention if she wants to lay with me.” Alexander scoffed.

“You and I both know that’s not how it works,” Alexander said, stalking up to him. He glared up at the stranger. He sniffed, scowling when he breathed in. “I knew it, you reek of hell.” The stranger’s nostrils flared. If Eliza looked closely she was pretty sure she could see actual flames crackling in his eyes. Alexander dropped the strudel he’d brought on the table.

“Did you do your homework, boy?” he sneered, “You’re clearly just some powerless human, it’s a wonder you ended up with this beautiful naiad in the first place.” Eliza winced, this guy had just made a real mistake. Alexander was built on two pillars, one called pride and another called honour. If this was going in the direction she thought it would it wasn’t going to end well, for anyone.

“Alexander maybe we should-”

“No, Eliza,” he said, “I think this demon should apologize for what he was about to do to you.” Eliza glanced at her boyfriend. His hands were glowing, radiating a soft light. That was definitely not good.

“Awe, the little human wants to protect his girlfriend,” the demon mocked, “How cute. News flash man, I’m a celestial! That means that I could take you down without raising a pinky. Honestly, I think this pretty thing could put up a better fight than you.” He winked at Eliza suggestively.

“You motherfucker!” Alexander released his wings from his back. They were fully unveiled in all their white feather glory. Eliza sighed exasperatedly, pinching the bridge of her nose. This was not going well. 

Behind the two of them, she could see the rest of the cafe whispering, even the barista’s had stopped attending to the line of customers. The cute one, the dragon from before, had rolled up his sleeves, looking ready to jump into the fight. He was looking at her, almost imperceptibly she shook her head, this wasn’t his fight. He would only get hurt. He nodded slightly, taking a step back. She breathed a sigh of relief.

“You think those scare me?” Even though the demon stood proudly Eliza could sense his, rightfully earned, nervousness.

“I think you should go,” Alexander said, the underlying threat was clear. His fists were glowing Alexander’s spiritual form threatening to break through his physical one. The demon sighed in defeat, rolling his eyes.

“Fine!” he lamented, huffing, “I didn’t really need the essence anyway.” He crossed his arms and practically stomped out of the coffee shop. Alexander sighed, tucking his wings away and slipping back into the booth. He ignored the stares of the other patrons, the fight had garnered more than a little unwanted attention. The cafe’s patrons whispered, pointing between Alexander and the cafe’s swinging door.

“Asshole,” Alexander muttered, he huffed, running a hand through his hair. He transferred his attention to Eliza. “Are you okay?” He frowned at her in concern, running his eyes over her body, checking for any injuries

“I’m okay,” Eliza responded. She raised her arms in demonstration “See? All in working order.” Alexander sighed in relief. “What was that guy?”

“An incubus,” Alexander spat, “An awful kind of demon. He was using his magic to turn your brain off. Basically, he was going to fuck you, and then fuck off once his essence had been refilled.” Eliza blinked.

“You’re joking. He was going to-” She couldn’t finish her sentence. Alexander scowled, nodding grimly,

“Fraid not,” Alexander said, “He wasn’t lying at the end there. He didn’t even need the essence if he looked like that.”

“Looked like that?”

“The longer an incubus goes without fucking someone the less human they look,” Alexander explained, “He didn’t even have claws yet, selfish bitch.”

“And you knew all of that from a single glance?” Eliza asked, taking a small bite of her strudel, “Do you have like, an encyclopedic knowledge of all species?”

“Just demons,” Alexander said, shrugging, “Part of the package. I think the Big Guy just thought it was easier if we come pre-programmed with the information about our enemies.”

“You’re not programmed,” Eliza corrected, “You’re not some code Alexander. You’re a real person.” Alexander huffed, looking out the window in silence. She took another bite of her strudel. It really was good, she wasn’t surprised Alexander actually ate the whole thing. She polished off the pastry, wiping her sugary fingers on the paper napkin Alexander had brought with the strudel. Her boyfriend was looking out on the street pensively, resting his chin in his hand. 

Realizing he wouldn’t be starting the conversation, she spoke first. 

“I’m surprised they didn’t kick you out,” she admitted, “I thought it was going to get physical for a second there.”

“It wasn’t going to,” Alexander assured her, “If he tried anything-”

“You’d go all neutron star on him,” Eliza finished. “I could tell. Your hands we’re getting a little… glowy. Y’know, you really need to stop being so quick in the trigger with that thing. It doesn’t only hurt demons, y’know.”

“I know that,” Alexander muttered, “I just couldn’t let him hurt you, not like that. Incubi, they’re some of the worst kinds of demons. Eliza, I can protect you and I’m going to do everything I can to do that.”

“I know,” she whispered. She reached across the table squeezing his hand. “And I appreciate that Alexander, I do. But there are other people in this cafe. If you broke out your spiritual form they’d go crazy, and it’d be my fault. You know non-angel minds can't handle it.” Alexander sighed. She raised an eyebrow. “You know I'm right.”

“I know,” he groaned. He scrunched his nose in thought before sighing once more. “Okay Betsey,” he lamented, “Next time I’ll just punch him, no true form business. Just the good ol’ right hook.” Eliza laughed lightly and leaned over the table to peck him lightly on the cheek.

“Your supernatural strength will do a number on his face,” Eliza said, smiling.

“Not as much as I’d like it too,” Alexander grumbled, “It's celestial strength. Since he’s a celestial too he’ll be a bit more resilient than your average person. Instead of breaking his skull, he’d just get a bit of a black eye.”

“You’d still mess up his face.”

“It’s a stupid face." Eliza hummed in agreement.

“It is.”

Chapter Text

After a quick fly over the city, he’d landed on the balcony to his shared apartment. Alexander sighed, unlocking the glass balcony door. He could see his roommate, Hercules, already inside. Hercules was an intimidating man, tall, with broad shoulders and muscled arms. He had dark skin and severe-looking features. He was a hunter, Alexander supposed that some of that harshness was just in his nature. Despite all that, the man was incredibly protective and sweet, sort of like a giant teddy bear.

They’d met under strange circumstances. Hercules was almost ten years older than Alexander. His family, the Mulligans, had taken him in when his mother died. Mister and Missus Mulligan had treated him like one of their own, always giving Hercules and Alexander the same opportunities. Thankfully, the two boys got along and decided to share an apartment together when Alexander had started university. Now, six years later, they were still going strong.

The door opened a click, sliding open into their small living room. Hercules and his newest project were inside, fabric was sprawled across the coffee table. He was nodding his head along to some nineties hip-hop playing on his phone. He hummed along, adding little chalk outlines and pins inside the tulle fabric.

“You’re home,” Hercules said, “How was the coffee?”

“It was… eventful?” He said, “Uh, yeah. Eventful.” Hercules raised an eyebrow.

“What do you mean?”

“There was a demon at the coffee shop, an incubus,” Alexander explained, “Asshole tried to work his voodoo magic on Liza. I may have gotten a little worked up. It was fine though.”

“You didn’t kill anyone, did you?” Hercules asked, still focusing on his project. Alexander couldn’t really tell if he was serious.

“You know that’s against the rules,” Alexander said, “I’m not stupid.”

“I know that,” he said, “I meant the demon. Incubus, was it?”

“I didn’t kill him either,” Alexander said, “Not that I wasn’t tempted. The guy was an asshole. I just had some coffee. A perfectly normal day.” Hercules raised a skeptical eyebrow. “I’m serious!”

“I don’t know Alexander,” he said, “I don’t know if anyone told you this, but you’re a little headstrong.” Alexander rolled his eyes.

“I know that Hercules,” he said, “You can blame my mother for that.”

“Blame your mother?” Hercules asked, looking at Alexander bewilderedly, “What are you talking about man?”

“She named me Alexander,” he explained. Hercules’s expression remained confused. “It means defender of men.”

“I’m sorry man, you’re going to have to elaborate,” Hercules said, “I still have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Have we not been over this?” Alexander asked, at Hercules’s blank expression Alexander sighed. “I guess not. When Angel’s are given their names they become part of their personality. Alexander means defender of men which means that-”

“You’re a little headstrong. Ready to jump into battle and all that.”

“Exactly.”

“And you’re pinning this on your very mortal, very human mother?” Hercules crossed his arms judgmentally.

“She’s the one who named me!” Alexander said exasperatedly, “I had no control over that!”

“Did she have any idea what the repercussions of naming you were?”

“No, not really,” Alexander admitted, “I mean if she did she probably would’ve gone with one of the classics.”

“The classics?” Hercules asked, “I wasn’t aware there were typical angel names.”

“Well, most angel names end in El. Like Ammenadiel, Castiel, Ariel-”

“Hold up,” Hercules said, interrupting him. “As in the mermaid? Like, Disney?”

“Yes. It means lion of God.”

“I see. Continue.” Hercules leaned back into the couch.

“El refers to God,” Alexander said, “Alexander clearly doesn't fit the trend.”

“And how did all the other people know to name the angels within the style?” Hercules asked, “Cause like, clearly I don’t know anything about this, so it’s not exactly common knowledge.”

“I mean, the other angels are a lot older than me,” Alexander said, “The next youngest, Adriel, was born in the eighteenth century. I think that more people knew about angel naming customs. That’s what I’m guessing, anyway.”

“Huh,” Hercules said, “Weird.” Alexander nodded.

“Anyway,” Alexander sighed, “Rachel Hamilton was a little out of her depth, to say the least. I mean, she gave me a last name.” Hercules remained unsurprised.

“I’m guessing that’s not commonplace either?”

“No, it isn’t.” Hercules sighed.

“Angel naming culture is strange.” He paused. “And complicated.”

“Agreed.”

“So, back to the original question,” Hercules said, “You’re sure you didn’t kill anyone at the coffee shop?”

“Yes, Hercules,” Alexander huffed, “I’m sure I didn’t kill anyone at the coffee shop. Jeez, what kind of angel do you think I am?”

“I’m just checking, man,” Hercules sighed, refocusing on the fabric in front of him. He furrowed his eyebrows in concentration, narrowing his eyes as he focused.

“What are you working on?” Alexander asked, joining Hercules on the couch.

“A dress for Angelica,” he said, “It’s for some environmental dinner that she’s attending. I don’t know, but she’s paying me for it. Being a security guard doesn’t pay very well. I mean, it doesn't yet at least.”

“What do you mean yet?” Alexander asked.

“Washington is thinking of running for President when the term is up,” Hercules said, “If he does he’s taking me with him. That’s a pay raise if I ever heard one.”

“And that’s why I need to get this job,” Alexander said, “If I can get on his side now, maybe he’ll take me to the White House with him.”

“There are a couple of other people who are vying for the job,” Hercules said conversationally, “But, there’s only one guy I would kind of worry about.”

“Oh, do tell,” Alexander said, leaning forward, “Give me all the details. I need every advantage I can get.”

“Between you and me you already have an advantage,” he said, “But first. The other guy. His name’s Aaron Burr, comes from an influential family. A bit of a prodigy, attended Princeton and graduated cum laude a couple of years ago.” Alexander’s mind flashed back to the barista at the coffee shop earlier today.

“He wouldn’t happen to be a warlock, would he?” Alexander asked, “Black guy, close-cropped hair, late twenties?”

“Uh, yeah, why?” Hercules asked, “Do you know him?”

“He was my barista today,” Alexander said, “Didn’t peg him as a Washington supporter.”

“That’s the thing,” Hercules said, “He's not much of an anyone supporter. The guy’s got no opinions, walks the straight and narrow, the whole thing.” Alexander hummed.

“So really, our credentials are similar,” Alexander said, “A little different in terms of age, but education is similar enough. Really, it comes down to whether Washington wants some who speaks out or one who will take orders lying down.”

“Not necessarily,” Hercules corrected, “Because we haven’t talked about your given advantage. Your species.” Alexander sighed making Hercules shove his shoulder lightly. “I’m serious! Washington has been pushing diversity during his entire term, he already has two warlocks on his staff, he doesn’t have an angel.”

“But nobody is an angel,” Alexander said, “That’s not appealing to any groups.”

“But it is with his brand to diversify his staff,” Hercules countered, “If he has too many warlocks on staff he could be accused of bias or lying.”

“I guess,” Alexander conceded, “But Washington doesn’t seem like the type to allow pressure to get to him.”

“Remind me which one of us works for him again?” Hercules asked rhetorically. Alexander rolled his eyes.

“How is that going by the way?” Alexander asked, “I know you started working for him a while ago, but I never really asked.”

“It’s fun actually,” Hercules admitted shrugging, “When we’re on duty I kind of let my hunter senses go into overdrive. It’s exhilarating.”

“It’s like a rush?”

“Yes!” Hercules agreed, “That’s it. I like working for Washington, he’s a surprisingly funny guy. I think you’ll like him.”

“I’ll withhold my judgement until I meet him,” Alexander said, “But thanks Herc.”

“Course man,” he said, shrugging. He squinted, attempting to thread the needle.

“Do you need some help there?” Alexander asked.

“Please.” Hercules held up the needle and string in plain view. Alexander snapped his fingers, the string slipping through the eye of the needle.

“There.”

“God bless you.”

“He literally did. That’s like the whole point.” Hercules rolled his eyes.

“Never mind, I remember why I don’t like you.” Alexander stuck his tongue out childishly. Alexander watched Hercules work. When in his element it was hypnotizing. He worked with grace and efficiency. The tulle he’d picked out really was lovely, a soft sort of pink with embroidered daisies. Alexander traced his finger along the designs. Hercules sighed, frowning at his work.

“Can you do me a favour?” 

Alexander raised an eyebrow. “A favour?” he asked, “Can I have some specifics?”

“Can you try this dress on for me?” Hercules asked, “You and Angelica have similar frames, around the same height. I just need to see how this fabric falls.” Alexander scrunched his nose. “Please?” Alexander sighed.

“Fine,” he said, “Give the dress.” Hercules smiled passing him the fabric gingerly.

“Be careful,” he said, “The stitches aren’t super tight yet.” Alexander hummed, bringing the dress into his small bedroom. His sheets were still sprawled messily on his bed from when he’d rushed out early this morning. The late evening sunlight streamed through the window. He sighed. He stripped down quickly, pulling his crew neck over his head and letting his pants fall to the floor. He pulled the dress over his head, slipping into the thing. The fabric was softer than he expected, it wasn’t at all itchy against his skin. He walked towards his mirror, taking himself in. It was pretty actually, really perfect for the environmental event that Angelica was going to wear this too. Alexander was oddly proud of her roommate. He’d really perfected this craft. Alexander sighed, smoothing the skirt. He exited his room, standing in front of Hercules.

“Do you want me to spin?” he asked sarcastically.

“Yes actually,” Hercules said, “I want to see how the skirt moves.” Alexander spun a slow circle. “Faster. It needs to catch the wind.” Alexander huffed, complying. Hercules hummed, scribbling some quick notes in his notebook.

“Is that good?”

“Yes, thank you,” Herc said, “You can take the dress off now.”

“I think I’ll keep it on for a little,” Alexander shrugged. “I like it.”

“Oh really?” Hercules asked. Alexander nodded.

“It’s very freeing,” he said, smiling coyly. Hercules laughed. “Reminds me of the robes the Big Guy forces me into whenever I visit, but nicer. Those ones are a little plain for my taste.”

“Well, you can wear it, for now, I guess,” he said, “But that one is for Angelica. I could make you one if you’d like.” Alexander hesitated before nodding.

“That’d be nice,” he said, “Only if you have time.”

“I should,” Hercules said, “I’ll just finish up this one and then get started on yours.”

“I can pay you-”

“Alexander you have no money.”

“I will have money,” he said, “Once Washington hires me.”

“And he will,” Hercules said, smiling.  Alexander hummed, sitting back on the couch. 

“What do you want for dinner?” Hercules asked.

“I’m not going to eat anything,” Alexander said, shrugging, “So just order whatever you want.” Hercules raised an eyebrow in silent judgement.  “I ate a strudel today! That means I’m healthy.”

“Yeah, you’re having some pad thai,” Hercules decided, “I don’t care that angels don’t need food. It’ll make me feel better.” Alexander rolled his eyes.

“Whatever.”

“Don’t give me attitude young man,” Hercules said sarcastically. 

“Or what old man?” Alexander asked, “What are you going to do about it?”

“Why you-!” Hercules grabbed Alexander, putting him in a gentle headlock. Alexander squired, laughing. “What was that about me being an old man?” 

“No- nothing!” Alexander said between bouts of laughter, “St-stop! I su-surrender!” Thankfully, Hercules let go.

“That’s what I thought,” Hercules said gruffly, “Now, I’m going to get you some pad thai and you’re gonna eat it.” 

“Fine dad,” Alexander said, rolling his eyes, “Whatever,” Hercules grunted, pulling out his phone. Alexander sighed, summoning his laptop from his bookbag with a snap.

Chapter Text

Alexander’s entire body was shaking in a strange mixture of excitement and nerves. 

Today was the day he was meeting Washington and interviewing for the job. He got up early, made a quick cup of coffee and got dressed.

He’d worn his nicest suit. It was a combination of a dark blue suit jacket, matching dress pants and a white button-up. Hercules had tailored it for him a couple of months ago when he started interviewing for different jobs and internships. He’d also cleaned himself up a bit for the interview. He tamed his hair, pulling his dark hair into a loose ponytail and had shaved his face. He’d opted to tuck his wings and halo away, for now, just to make walking around easier.

He had his briefcase with his resume and other various examples of his work in hand. As he approached the office he couldn’t help the smile that broke out on his face. It was an impressive building. It had huge glass windows and an impressive flag pole, with an American and the New York state flag flying in the wind. He was really, here he was doing this. 

He stepped through the large double glass doors, slightly surprised when no one else was in the front waiting area. It had white walls, with a nice seating area. Near the back wall sat a secretary, sitting behind a desk. 

She was looking at something on a computer screen, typing quickly. She was probably a little older than him, with tanned skin and curly brown hair, styled into a low ponytail. She looked relatively human but if he looked closely he spotted especially pointed canines. Though this narrowed down what species she was slight, there were still a couple of options (werewolf and vampires to name a few).

“Hello?” he asked, “Is there somewhere I should sit?”

“Are you here for Senator Washington’s head speechwriter position?” she asked. 

“Uh, yes!” Alexander said, “I’m Alexander Hamilton.”

“You’re his last interview for the day,” she said, smiling, “I believe you can head right on in.”

“Oh, uh, I’m not late, am I?” Alexander said, desperately glancing at the clock, “I thought my interview was at three?”

“Oh, it is, don’t worry,” the secretary reassured him, “Senator Washington was more efficient with the interviews than expected. You can head right on in.”

“Oh, okay then,” Alexander said, blinking, “Thank you- sorry, I actually don’t think I caught your name.”

“I’m Maria,” she said, smiling, “I’m Senator Washington’s personal assistant.”

“Well, hopefully, I’ll be seeing you around more,” Alexander said, smiling charmingly.

“I hope we will,” she said sincerely. “Head on in there Mister Hamilton. His office is just down the hall.” Alexander smiled brightly and followed her pointed finger. As he walked down the hall, he approached the large wooden door at the end of the hall. A golden plate was screwed on the words Senator George Washington, Democrat, of New York State engraved clearly . He took a deep breath, steadying himself. He could do this. This was his shot, and he wasn’t going to screw it up.

He grabbed the door handle, twisting it. he entered the office with his head held high.

“Senator Washington, it’s wonderful to meet you,” Alexander said, “I-”

He froze. Burr, the barista from the coffee shop, was standing in the room across from Washington. 

He cleaned up nicely. Trading the apron for a nice dark purple button-up and charcoal grey dress pants. He was wearing polished dress shoes and holding a folder of papers, presumably his resume and other resources, in one hand. He looked at Alexander strangely, as if he hadn’t decided how he felt about the man interrupting his interview.

Washington was sitting in a large leather chair behind an expensive-looking wooden desk. Washington dominated the Senate floor, known as one of the most feared Senators, in politics and in battle. Senator Washington was a retired general, he’d fought for the country a couple of years ago. He was a general and had been discharged honourably. He was a scarily powerful elemental, his mastery of all the elements was a popular topic of conversation among the people of New York. Though he wasn’t as powerful as, say, a nymph, in any individual element his work integrating the elements was impressive, to say the least.

Alexander had seen many pictures of him, in news articles and Instagram posts.  He was bald, with tan skin, broad shoulders and thick eyebrows. The man was, even more, intimidating in person. His presence was almost suffocating and wore an unimpressed expression.

“Mister Hamilton,” Senator Washington said, smoothly, “You’re early.” He leaned further back into his chair, crossing one leg over the other. 

“I am so sorry,” he said, walking back towards the office entrance, “The secretary- she told me that- I’ll go. I’m sorry.” He held his resume tighter. There went his chance at the job. Nice one Hamilton.

“No, it’s alright,” Washington said, surprising him. “Have you met Mister Burr?” He pointed at the warlock, raising a questioning eyebrow.

“Yes sir,” Alexander said, “Briefly.” Burr glared at him, but Alexander did his best not to take it personally. He did just walk into the man’s interview uninvited. Should that have happened to Alexander himself he probably would’ve done something regrettable by now. Honestly, Hamilton was impressed by Burr’s self-control. Speaking of Burr, the man cleared his throat, clearly attempting to get this interview back on track. He looked down and smoother his suit.

“As I was saying sir,” he said, “I look forward to seeing your future policies as we work together. I have a couple of strategies I believe could be beneficial to both you and your campaign.” Burr shuffled through his papers as if he was looking for something.

“Mister Burr,” Washington said. Burr looked up at the mention of his name, pausing his search through his papers.  “It was a pleasure to have you come in today. Please leave your information with Maria at the front desk. Please close the door on the way out.” For a second Burr stood there in shock, Alexander right along with him, at Washington’s chilly but polite dismissal. He blinked before turning around, looking at Alexander in shock and exiting the room, following Washington’s instructions to close the door. the door closed with a click, leaving Alexander and Senator Washington alone in the room together. 

“Senator Washington,” Alexander said, “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Please, take a seat, Mister Hamilton,” Washington said, gesturing to the chair across from him. “I’d like to talk to you.” Alexander sat down hesitantly in the comfortable seat. 

“Have I done something wrong sir?” Alexander asked hesitantly. “I really am sorry for interrupting your interview with Mister Burr. Maria, the secretary, she told me it was okay and-” Washington held up a hand, stopping him mid-sentence.

“You’ve done nothing wrong, Mister Hamilton,” he said, “I asked Maria to send you in early. Frankly, I knew enough about Mister Burr without him coming to meet me in person.” Alexander frowned in confusion.

“Pardon me for asking sir,” Alexander said hesitantly, “If you knew enough about him, why bother asking him to come in anyway?” Washington sighed, crossing his arms across his chest.

“I had to,” he said, “The boy has connections. I needed to at least give him a chance to speak for himself. if I didn’t I would come under fire from my other colleagues in the Senate.” Washington said, shrugging. “I couldn’t just dismiss his application. Even without his connections, Mister Burr is a smart man. As are you, so I’m told.”

“I am,” Alexander agreed readily, “I understand that Mister Burr graduated from Princeton.”

“Cum laude, if I remember correctly,” Washington said.

“Yes,” Alexander said, “But similarly, I graduated from Columbia in 2013 and I was able to complete my law degree at the same school in an accelerated program. I graduated as valedictorian of my class both years, finishing with a 4.8 GPA overall.” Alexander couldn't help but smile proudly. His academics had always been his strong spot and he wasn’t ashamed about talking about it, especially in an interview.

“I see,” Washington “But, enough comparing yourself with Mister Burr. This is your interview, no?”

“Yes, sir, it is,” Alexander agreed. He reached into his laptop bag, pulling out his folder with his references. 

“No need for those,” Washington said, waving him off, “Mister Hamilton. I understand that Senators Greene and Knox wanted to hire you.” Alexander furrowed his eyebrows in confusion.

“Yes, sir, but I don’t know how this is relevant?” he asked.

“What I want to know is why you turned down their offer to work with them,” Washington clarified, leaning over the desk. “Both Senators are doing great work for their respective states. I understand that you were offered a much better position in their offices than a head speechwriter.”

“I wasn’t interested in the paths they’d set up for me,” Alexander said, “Their policies don’t align with my beliefs.”

“And mine do?” Alexander nodded vigorously.

“Your work with racial and species diversity is amazing,” he said enthusiastically, “Also your stark stance on gun control, both of those things are very important to me. I think that taking stronger stances on these issues could be amazing for both you and your campaign.” 

“I see,” Washington said, “Well. I’m afraid, son, that I may have misled you slightly when I invited you to come here for this interview.” Alexander furrowed his eyebrows together in confusion.

“What do you mean sir?” he asked hesitantly.

“My head speechwriter position is already filled,” he admitted. Alexander’s heart dropped.

“Oh, I see,” he said sadly, “Well thank you for letting me come in-”

“I’m not finished,” Washington said, “You see, I’m promoting one of my current speechwriters, a human named James Madison.”

“If you knew you were promoting someone who already works for you, why interview all these people today?” Alexander asked.

“Well, initially I wasn’t sure,” Washington said, “But after interviewing everyone today I think my plan is clear.”

“Is the position that James Madison is leaving open?” Alexander asked hopefully. Washington shook his head, crushing Alexander’s hopes.

“I’m hiring Aaron Burr to replace his spot on the main writing staff,” Washington said surprising Alexander.

“Well,” Alexander said resignedly, “Thank you for inviting me here Senator Washington-”

“One last thing,” Washington said, “Sit back down. I think you’d like to hear this.” Alexander complied sinking back into the comfortable chair.

“Okay.” Washington straightened a pile of papers.

“Recently, my chief of staff resigned to spend more time with his family. Normally, this would lead to me promoting my deputy chief of staff but I don’t believe that Adams is up for the job.” Washington smiled at him slightly. Alexander couldn’t believe what he was hearing, was this going the way he thought it was going? “Alexander, would you accept the position of my chief of staff?” Alexander froze.

“You’re joking.” Washington shook his head. 

“I’ve read your work,” Washington said, “I know you’re young, some might say inexperienced,  but I think that youth is what we need. You can provide a new perspective on our issues. Your beliefs align well with mine, and I believe you have some great plans that we could implement together. ”

“As a team.”

“As a team,” Washington agreed, “So if you’d like it, the position is yours.”

Alexander smiled widely. “I would love to, Senator Washington, but, ah, I was wondering what exactly this position entails.”

“Well,” Washington said, “You’ll supervise my other staff, obviously, You’ll oversee different policies and procedures and such. Other than that, the two of us will work together closely and you'll be my number one political adviser.”

“I see,” Alexander said, nodding, “Well, really, this is wonderful, thank you so much for the opportunity, Senator Washington. I can’t wait to start working with you.”

“Brilliant,” Washington said, sliding the stack of papers he was holding across the table. “You start on Monday.”

Chapter Text

ALEX

THE WILDEST THING JUST HAPPENED TO ME

ELIZA
tell me!!

ALEX
you are currently talking to senator george washington’s new chief of staff!!!!

ELIZA
Alex that’s amazing!!!!!
congrats!!

ALEX
thank uuuuuu

ELIZA
we should celebrate!!
i know it’s tough for you to get drunk so im going go get some regular champagne for my sisters, herc and i and some celestial alcohol for you
and we are going to party at mine!!

ALEX
sounds good to me! ill tell herc about the plans

ELIZA
do you want me to get you anything while im out?

ALEX
some coffee?? i saw beans at the cafe we went to earlier this week? ill pay you back when i come over

ELIZA
got it hun!! and dont worry about it! ill see you tonight?

ALEX
see you then <3


Eliza walked down fifth avenue, scanning the street for her usual liquor store. The reason it was her usual was because it was one of the only places in the city that sold celestial alcohol without pricing their drinks at unbelievable prices. Even though Eliza had been adopted by very wealthy parents and could afford luxurious alcohol she knew Alexander would feel guilty about her spending money on him. 

Celestial alcohol was incredibly potent, a single drop could give unfit species alcohol poisoning in minutes. It had to be strong, otherwise, angels and demons would never be able to have fun at parties. Standard alcohol was like juice to them, they could drink copious amounts of liquor without a single issue.

Normally, liquor stores attempted to rob buyers blind, placing their prices easily in the hundreds. It was rare and expensive, but thankfully there was once a place that was always reliable. The Kinloch liquor store was surprisingly reasonable at about half the price. Eliza wasn’t sure how exactly they’d managed to keep the prices so low, but she wasn’t one to complain.

Eliza slipped into the store, the door jingling with her entry. Francis, the Kinloch’s son, was standing at the counter. He was a twenty-five-year-old satyr, with curly brown horns, peeking out of dark wavy hair. He had deeply tanned skin, speckled with beauty marks.

“Hey there Eliza,” he said, smiling crookedly as he leaned on the counter.

“Hey Francis,” she said, waving, “How’s the family?”

“My parents are good,” he said, shrugging, “Y’know, we’re opening another location in midtown.”

“Oh, that’s wonderful,” Eliza said, smiling, “Send them my congratulations.”

“I will.” Eliza hummed, continuing his way through the store. She moved past the general wines and other alcohols.

He walked to the far side of the liquor store, where the celestial alcohol was stored in a tidy shelf. There was a small selection of wines and beer but Eliza moved towards the more expensive section of the shelf. She hummed, running her eyes across the labels, finally landing on the nicest champagne bottle. Eliza smiled, grabbed it without so much as a glance at the price. Tonight was a celebration, Alexander deserved the best. If she was already going to a discounted store, Alexander deserved the best of their selection.

This was big for him and Eliza wanted to make sure he was properly celebrated.

For herself, she grabbed another, equally as nice bottle and made his way back to the front of the store. She set the two bottles on the counter.

“Just these two,” she said, smiling. Francis hummed.

“Is there a special occasion?” Francis asked, ringing her up. “These are nice bottles.” He placed the two bottles into a nice black paper bag.

“Alexander got himself a new job,” Eliza said proudly, “We’re celebrating tonight, this is really big for him.”

“Oh, really?” Francis asked, “Can you spare any details?”

“He just got hired as Washington’s new chief of staff,” Eliza boasted, “It's a really huge step forward in his career.”

“Well, send him my congratulations,” Francis said, smiling, “That would be one hundred and thirty for the two of them.” Eliza hummed, pulling out her credit card and inserted it into the machine. The transaction went through quickly. Francis smiled. “Thank you.” He handed her the paper bag.

“Thank you,” Eliza said, smiling, “See you next time, Francis.”

“Have a good one Eliza.” Eliza waved as she exited the small store.

As she walked back onto the streets she did a quick scan of the stores on the other side of the street. She found the Café Revolution with ease and made quick work crossing the street through the New York traffic. It was slightly busy, most of the tables were filled, with a small line at the front counter. She quickly spotted bags of beans on display and walked towards them. Deciding to grab three of the darkest roast, she joined the line. 

As she patiently waited for her turn she found her eyes lingering on the beautiful pastries in the display case. There was a wide variety of tarts, scones and various other flakey golden treats all beautifully crafted. They had little nameplates in front of them, labelling them with various french names.

“Have my creations caught your eye?” 

Eliza blinked, taking her eyes off of the display case. The speaker was a fairy, with beautiful insect-like wings, slightly pointed ears, dark skin and beautiful coily hair tied into a bun on the top of his head. His wings caught the light, refracting the sun in beautiful pink streams across the coffee shop. They were fluttering, and if Eliza peaked over the counter she could see that the barista was hovering just above the ground. His words were coated in a smooth French accent.

“Uh, yeah,” she said, looking up. “They’re very beautiful, very well made.”

“I’m glad you think so,” the fairy said, smiling, “I’m Lafayette, the owner and primary baker of this fine establishment. Everything you see here is my own recipe. Most of them were baked by my own two hands.”

“I’m Eliza,” she said, smiling back, “And they really are wonderful.”

“Is that short for anything?” Lafayette asked, leaning across the counter curiously.

“Elizabeth,” she admitted, “But everyone calls me Eliza.”

“A princess’s name,” the fairy said playfully, “Very elegant.”

“You think so?” Eliza asked. The fairy beamed at her, nodding enthusiastically.

“It’s very elegant,” he said, “It may not sound like it, my own name is a shortened form.”

“Oh really?” Eliza asked, raising an eyebrow, “My interest is piqued. Tell me your full name?”

“Well,” he said, taking a deep breath, “My name is Marie-Joseph Paul Yves Roch Gilbert du Motier de La Fayette, Marquis de La Fayette.” She blinked in shock.

“Did you say Lafayette twice?”

“I did,” he confirmed, “That is why it is my chosen nickname.”

“Also, did you say marquis?” she asked, “Isn’t that like, royalty?”

“It’s merely a title,” Lafayette said, shrugging, “After the revolution, it really doesn’t hold much power.”

“Still, royalty,” Eliza said,  “That’s pretty awesome.”

“Ah,” Lafayette said, “But that must convince you that I know when I’m talking about when I say Elizabeth is a princess name.”

“I guess it does,” Eliza said, nodding. “But why do you have so many names?”

“My parents named me after as many saints as they could,” he said, shrugging, “They thought it might provide me protection in battle. Not that I’ve participated in many battles.”

“I guess that’s one way of doing it,” Eliza said, “At least you have their protection just in case.” Eliza wasn’t actually sure if that would work but decided she would ask Alexander about it later. If anyone would know, it would be him.

“Indeed,” Lafayette agreed. “Now, how did you hear about this fine establishment?” 

“Well, originally, word of mouth,” she said, “My sister, Angelica comes here often.”

“Ah! Angelica, the dryad?” he asked. Eliza nodded. “She is a wonderful, fierce, woman. She is your sister?” Eliza could sense Lefayette’s confusion.

“I’m adopted,” she clarified.

“I see!” Lafayette said, “But, ah, I noticed you said originally?”

“Right! I’ve actually been here before,” Eliza said, “My boyfriend and I came here for the first time earlier this week. We’ve actually been making our way across the city, visiting local cafés around the city. This café has been our favourite so far. We like it so much he sent me for the coffee beans.”

“Well, that’s wonderful!” Lafayette said, “I’m so glad you like my little establishment. It has been my pride and joy for the past couple of years.” Eliza smiled at him. It was lovely that he built this place. 

“Well, I wish you great success in the future,” Eliza said, smiling. Lafayette beamed back at her.

“Thank you so much,” he said, “Let me ring you up.” He pointed towards the register. “But first, would you like anything from the bakery?” Eliza glanced back at the display case, there were many options, but the muffins kept catching her eye.

“What muffin would you recommend?” she asked, tapping her chin indecisively.

“I’m particularly fond of blueberry,” Lafayette admitted, “It’s quite tasty, not too sweet, but pleasant.”

“Blueberry it is,” Eliza said, smiling. Lafayette grinned back at her. Eliza dropped the bags of beans on the counter. The fairy raised a playful eyebrow. “Three bags of Le Minuit? That roast is very dark. Your boyfriend likes it bitter?”

“He does,” she said, nodding, “It’s strange, you wouldn’t take him for one who likes a dark roast. I mean, on appearance alone.”

“Tell me about him,” Lafayette said, “Perhaps I remember him. I do have quite a good memory of customers I’ve served.”

“He’s kind of hard to forget,” Eliza said, falling into the casual conversation easily. “His name’s Alexander Hamilton? Dark hair, tan skin?”

“The angel?” Lafayette asked. Eliza nodded enthusiastically. “Oh, he’s wonderful! We exchanged numbers, my dear John, another barista here, enjoyed his company immensely.” Eliza rolled her eyes fondly.

“Alexander does tend to have that effect on people,” Eliza said, “He’s quite charming.” 

“Well, I’d say you’re equally charming Miss Eliza,” Lafayette said.

“Why thank you,” she said smiling. Eliza knew she was pretty, it was all part of the territory as a naiad, but a compliment never failed to make her blush. She had no doubt her cheeks, if not her whole face, were dark blue as she felt the blood rush upwards.

“Hold on,” Lafayette said, realization sparking in his eyes, “You wouldn't happen to be the one he got worked up over?”

“Ah, the incubus incident?” she asked, wincing. Lafayette nodded. She sighed. “Yeah, that would be me.”

“I thought that was very sweet of him to defend you like that,” Lafayette said.

“It was,” she admitted, “But if you ask me he went a little bit overboard.”

“I thought it was quite entertaining,” Lafayette said, “Made the afternoon shift a little more interesting.”

“Well, I’m glad I could provide some entertainment,” Eliza said.

“That you did, Miss Eliza,” Lafayette said, “Your total is twenty-one dollars and seventy-three cents. Will you be paying on a card or with cash?”

“Right,” Eliza said, pulling her wallet out of her purse. She grabbed a twenty and five, passing them both over the counter. “Uh, cash, please. Here.”

“Merci,” said Lafayette, putting the two bills in the cashier. He hummed as he grabbed her change from the register before handing it to her across the counter. Suddenly, Eliza was struck with an idea. Maybe it was a good idea, maybe it was a bad idea, that was yet to be seen. Eliza, however, decided that she might as well try it out. There was no harm in asking, right?

“Uh, y’know, if you’d like to hang out with Alexander and me, we’re having a bit of a celebration tonight,” she said, “We’re just going to drink and relax with a couple of friends. It’ll be pretty chill, there will be food too-”

“Are you asking me to join you, Eliza?” Lafayette asked, cutting her off before she could start rambling.

“I mean, if you-”

“Can John come with me?” Eliza blinked, she felt the blush rushing to her face, remembering the very cute dragon who’d served her last time she was here.

“I mean, sure?” Eliza said, “I- I mean yeah. Definitely.” Lafayette beamed at her. He smiled widely, showing off his pearly white teeth.

“Wonderful!” he said, “Can I have your number, you know, so you can text our address?”

“Right, of course,” Eliza said, grabbing her phone out of her back pocket. She handed it to Lafayette, who smiled and typed something in quickly.

“Wonderful,” Lafayette said. “Here.” He grabbed a blueberry muffin from the display case and passed it to Eliza across the counter.

“Thank you,” Eliza said, smiling, “Uh, I’ll see you tonight?”

“That you will!” Lafayette agreed, “John and I will bring drinks as well!”

“Oh, you don’t-”

“Oh, we must!” Lafayette said, smiling,  “Do you prefer white or red?”

“White, definitely.”

“Wonderful!” he said, “I will see you tonight Eliza!”

“I guess I will,” Eliza agreed. “Uh, have a nice day.”

“And to you as well Miss Elizabeth!” Eliza smiled and left the café, holding her muffin. She took a small bite. It tasted as wonderful as it looked. She sighed happily, excited for the night to come.

Chapter Text

When Lafayette had told him that they’d been invited to a party with the angel and pretty naiad John had been thrilled. Well, briefly at least. He’d quickly been taken over by horror when he realized he had nothing to wear.

“Lafayette, what do I do?” John asked, “How casual is this? Should I wear a button-up? Or this a more t-shirt appropriate situation?” He looked between the shirts in his closet, furrowing his eyebrow in an unpleasant combination of worry and stress.

“Calm down mon petit,” Lafayette said, “She told me it was a small get together between friends, nothing huge. They’re celebrating Alexander’s new job.” Lafayette was laying down on John’s bed, resting his hands in his hands.

“Remind me how the fuck you scored this invite?” John asked, “You met this girl, what once?”

“It’s just my natural irresistible charm,” Lafayette said, smiling.

“Please tell me you didn’t work your fairy magic on her,” he said, “Because binding people into deals without their explicit permission just because you want me to bone someone is not cool man.”

“No, of course not,” Lafayette said, “She raised the topic herself! We are very wanted there, in fact! She was especially excited when I mentioned you.”

“Now I know you’re bullshitting me,” John said, rolling his eyes, “But thanks, man. Now, help me choose a shirt.” Lafayette sighed but rolled off the bed before shifting to his smaller form and flying into John’s closet. Lafayette’s miniature fairy form was about half a foot tall, all of his signature flair in a smaller package.

“This one!” Lafayette said, pointing to the red t-shirt hanging off of the hanger he was sitting on, “The red really brings out the colour of your wings.” Lafayette’s garment of choice was a red cable knit sweater.

“You think?” John asked, holding the shirt up to his wings.

“Absolument mon petit,” Lafayette said enthusiastically, “Now! Pair it with your dark jeans.” John rolled his eyes, grabbing his pants from the top shelf. He peeled off his café uniform of black jeans and black t-shirt, stripping down to his boxers.

“Looking good there petit,” Lafayette said, flying back on to the bed, “Have you been working on your arms recently?”

“Not more than usual,” he said, “Stop looking you perv.” Lafayette rolled his eyes.

“I do not understand why you are so modest, cheri,” he said, “I have seen this much and more many times.”

“Please don’t remind me,” John said, rolling his eyes, “That brief couple of weeks where we were fuckbuddies is a time I’d like to forget.” Lafayette rolled onto his back, shifting back to his regular size.

“You wound me, John,” Lafayette said, “Did you not enjoy it?”

“I didn’t say that,” he said, “It was just weird, man. You’re my best friend.”

“And you were desperate and I was happy to oblige.” John rolled his eyes, pulling on the pants and shirt.

“How do I look?”

“Delicious, my dear,” Lafayette said, “We must get going. We do not want to be late!” Lafayette stepped off the bed, walking out of John’s room.

“So where is her place?” John asked, “It is Eliza’s that we’re going to, right?”

“Right,” Lafayette said, “She lives in a rather nice apartment in the Upper East Side. I’m quite excited, I googled it earlier, very nice. She must come from money.”

“Did you get her last name?” John asked, “If she’s government money I might’ve heard about her family from my father.”

“Alas I did not,” Lafayette said, grabbing the keys, “We can ask her when we get there. Now! Do you have everything?”

“Uh, yeah,” John said, “Good to go.”

“Fantastic,” Lafayette said, stepping out of the apartment and into the street, “Let’s go! I called us an Uber. She’s already here.” John rushed out of the apartment, letting Lafayette lock the door behind him. There was a car parked in front of the apartment, presumably the Uber that he’d called. John walked up to the driver’s window, knocking on the window. The window went down, revealing the driver. He was Asian, with tan skin, monolid eyes and dark hair. He looked human, but John was never one to judge off of a first glance.

“hey there,” he said, “Who’s Uber is this?”

“God, I- I’m sorry,” he said, glancing down at his phone, “It’s really hard to pronounce. There’s a lot of-”

“Is one of the names Lafayette?”

“Yes!” John sighed. It was just like Laf to put his full name just to mess with Uber drivers.

“Wonderful,'' John said, opening the back door.  Lafayette scooted in next to him, sliding into the back seat. The car’s engine rumbled to life, as the driver started the car.

“Are you excited John?” Lafayette said, “We are going to the house to have a night of fun with your loves!”

“They are not my loves Lafayette,” John insisted, “They are just two people, who happen to be very attractive and also happen to be dating each other.”

“But John the three of you would be good for each other! I can feel it!”

“Are you sure you’re not a cupid?” John asked, rolling his eyes. Lafayette sighed.

“John I am just trying to help,” Lafayette said, “You are my friend, and I like it when my friends are happy. I think this will make you happy.”

“As much as I appreciate your help, Lafayette,” John said, “I got this. If it happens, it happens. I don’t want to push it, okay?” Lafayette sighed, pouting.

“Fine,” he lamented, “But just take what I said, yes? I think the three of you would be good together.” John hummed, resting his head against the car window. The Uber driver continued the rest of the way, making his way through the city streets. Soon enough John recognized the telltale buildings of the Upper East Side. John really loved this part of the city, he’d lived here for a while when he’d studied here and his father was still paying for his housing. The Uber driver parked in front of a new apartment building, It was all made of glass, and if John looked closely he could see security guards standing at the front desk.

“We’re here,” said the driver.

“Thank you,” John said as Lafayette opened the door. The Uber driver nodded. The two boys slipped out of the car and onto the street.

“Ready?” Lafayette asked excitedly. John shrugged, smiling unconsciously. Lafayette rolled his eyes fondly, dragging him through the front glass doors. John walked through stepping up to the security guard.

“How can I help you today?” The guard’s voice was monotone but had an underlying threatening tone. He was a hunter, John could tell from his eyes. They were hyper-alert, sensing everything in the room, expected when hunters were on duty.

“Ah, yes!” Lafayette said, taking the lead. In places like this, your species could really impact the way you were treated. As a fairy, Lafayette would probably have better luck talking to the security guard. “We are here to visit Eliza? In apartment five hundred and three?” The security looked him up and down before he moved onto John. He raised a single judgemental eyebrow.

“I’ll ring her up, make sure you two are… expected.” The security guard looked down at the computer, typing something before he picked up the phone on his left. After a couple of seconds, he sighed, putting down the phone.

“Head on in,” he said, “The elevator is just down the hall.” 

“Thank you,” Lafayette said gratefully. He grabbed John’s arm and pulled him towards the elevator. 

“God, I hate the security in these places,” John mumbled, “That’s one thing I don’t miss.”

“Agreed,” Lafayette mumbled, “I don’t understand why some places are so dedicated to this goddamn hierarchy. It barely matters anymore.”

“Trust me, I know what you mean,” John muttered. He pressed the up button. The elevator doors dinged, opening in seconds. The two men stepped into the elevator, Lafayette pressing the button for the fifth floor. John hummed, tapping his foot against the door impatiently. A couple of seconds later, the doors opened, revealing a well-lit hallway.

“Let’s go,” Lafayette said, pulling John forward, “This is hers.” The dark wooden door had a small silver handle, with 503 engraved on it eloquently. On the door, there were seasonal appropriate flowers. If John looked closely, he could read a small note tied to the stems of the bouquet.

My Dearest, Betsey,
Congratulations on the end of your first year with the kiddos! You're already the best teacher there. I’m so proud of you.
Love,
Your Alexander

“God, he’s so thoughtful,” John muttered, “I mean, look at this.”

“He’s a sweetie that’s for sure,” Lafayette mumbled, “Don’t you want some flowers, John?” John rolled his eyes, knocking on the door. Through the wood, John could hear someone laughing and rushing to the entrance. Someone he didn’t recognize opened the door. She was tall, taller than him, with dark coffee coloured skin and willowy long limbs. She was pretty, ethereally pretty, with short tight curls and regal features. Her ears were slightly pointed and her eyes were sharp and intelligent.

“Who are you?” her words were sharp, defensive and raised a judgmental eyebrow.

“I’m Lafayette,” he said, introducing himself, “Eliza invited the two of us this morning.”

“From the coffee shop?” Lafayette nodded eagerly. Her face broke into a small smile.

“Come on in,” she said, “I’m Angelica, Eliza’s sister.” John furrowed his eyebrows together in slight confusion. Elia was a naiad Angelica clearly was not. The woman seemed to spot his confusion and explained.

“She’s adopted, so is my other sister actually,” Angelica said, opening the door, “We’re family.”

“Of course!” Lafayette said reassuringly, “Of course.”

“Good,” she said, leading them to the living room. “We’ve already started drinking, but feel free to catch up.” 

As John entered the living room he caught sight of the crowd. Eliza and Alexander were leaning against each other, snuggled up on the couch. There was another man, he was black, with broad shoulders and strong arms. He had a beanie on and was sitting on the floor. Finally, the last girl had caramel coloured skin and curly hair tied into a low ponytail. She was holding a glass filled with champagne. 

“Hey there Lafayette!” Eliza said, stumbling out of Alexander’s arms, “You’re here!” She walked up to him, hugging him in greeting.

“We are,” Lafayette said, smiling, “I brought John.” Eliza turned to him, smiling brightly. John’s face was on fire as she pulled him into her arms, hugging him tightly.

“I’m so glad you could come,” she said earnestly, “Come on, meet the crew.” Lafayette and John followed her to the seating area. Lafayette took a spot on the love seat and John sat at his feet.

“I’m Hercules,” said the black man, “Nice to meet you. I’m Alexander’s brother.” John chose not to comment on the fact that they looked nothing alike and nodded, shaking his offered hand.

“Likewise,” he said, “I’m John.”

“And I am Lafayette!” said the fairy, taking Hercules’s hand enthusiastically, “Wonderful to make your acquaintance.” he leaned down, placing a kiss on Hercules’s hand. John turned to Lafayette, raising an eyebrow. The fairy shrugged, smiling mischievously.

“I’m Peggy Schuyler,” said the other girl, “I’m Angelica and Eliza’s younger sister.” John blanched.

“Sorry, did you say Schuyler?” he asked, “As in, Senator Philip Schuyler?” Peggy sighed,

“Yes,” she said, “Have you heard of him?”

“My dad knows him,” John said, shrugging, “Henry Laurens?”

“Of South Carolina?” Angelica asked, “The Republican?”

“Uh, yeah,” John said, ‘Trust me, I’m not his biggest fan.”

“Good,” Alexander said, taking a sip from his glass, “Since I am currently Washington’s chief of staff?”

“Oh, word!?” John said, “That’s so cool,  man!”

“That’s actually what we’re here to celebrate,” Eliza said.

“Ah well, then can we get a drink?” Lafayette asked.

“Of course,” Eliza said, grabbing them each a glass. “Here. Take these. Just make sure not to drink from the black bottle, okay?”

“Oh, why?” Lafayette asked, accepting the glass, “If you don’t mind me asking, that is.”

“Oh, it’s fine,” Alexander said, “It’s just cause that one’s mine.” Eliza rolled her eyes.

“What he means is that it's celestial alcohol. It's the only thing that can give Alex the same buzz normal alcohol gives us,” she explained, “It’s pretty bad if we drink it.”

“Like, will give you alcohol poisoning immediately, bad,” Angelica said, “Not fun.”

“Not fun,” John agreed, he grabbed the clear bottle, pouring it into his glass and taking a long sip.

Chapter Text

“So,” John started, leaning against Lafayette’s feet, “What do all of you guys do for a living?”

“We could, like, go in a circle?” Peggy suggested, crossing her legs on the chair.

“I can start,” Eliza volunteered, “Then we can go clockwise?” There were murmurs of agreement, making Eliza smile easily. “Okay, well, I’m a Kindergarten teacher at the international school downtown.”

“That’s wonderful,” Lafayette said, “Y’know, I went to an international school when I was younger. I fell in love with the country, it’s kind of why I moved here.”

“Oh, that’s amazing!” Eliza said, beaming, “Y’know, we do a lot of good work at that school. I’m really glad that you fell in love with the country.” Eliza and Lafayette smiled at each other.

“I guess I’m next?” Alexander said, his arms still wrapped around Eliza, “I mean, we all know what I do at work, so, uh, I’m a recent Columbia Law grad.”

“Actually, quick question,” Lafayette interjected, “Do you need to work, since, like, you’re an angel? Cause you have holy duties, right?”

“Well, yeah, I have duties,” Alexander said, “But I definitely don’t get paid for them. A lot of the other angels don’t need to work because they’ve accumulated a lot of money, since, y’know, they’re really old. But I’m still twenty-two, so, ah, I’m a bit behind everyone else.”

“So you work for him and he doesn't pay you?” John asked, bewildered. Alexander shrugged.

“Yeah, basically,” he said, “But, like, it’s not that bad, y‘know.” John frowned. Alexander didn’t seem like the type to take things lying down, to know that he’d just accepted his role in God’s plan was strange.

“So, I’m next,” Hercules said, “I’m actually a security guard, you know, most hunters are. I work for Washington as his personal security detail.” In the corner of his eye, John could see Lafayette smiling flirtatiously. Oh, God.

“I work in the government as an environmental lawyer,” Angelica said, “Y’know, as a dryad the environment is really important to me so I’m using the law to protect it.”

“That’s cool,” John said, sipping his glass. She shrugged, smiling proudly.

“Uh, I’m a student,” Peggy said, “At the moment I’m working at an ice cream store.”

“Nice,” John said, nodding, “I used to work at an ice cream store.”

“Oh really?” she asked, “How’d you like it?”

“It was fine,” he said, shrugging, “Good hours.”

“I know, right?!” she said, “That’s what I’ve been saying!” The group laughed lightly.

“Well,” Lafayette said, “I just kind of do different things. At the moment I own the café, but I like to start little projects every so often. I’m very, uh, wealthy, so I’m not going to be in any financial struggles any time soon.”

“That’s really cool,” Hercules said enthusiastically, “I love that.” Lafayette beamed.

“And, uh, I work in the café,” John said, smiling. He took another sip but found that his glass was empty. He grabbed the champagne bottle, attempting to pour more in his glass when nothing came out. He frowned.

“All done, John?” Alexander asked.

“Uh, yeah. Lafayette and I brought some whiskey. I’ll just go in the kitchen to fill-”

“Nonsense,” he said, waving him off, “Let me go get it for you.” He got off the couch, kissing Eliza’s head as he stepped off the couch. “Does anyone else want another round?”

“Me, please,” Herc said, passing Alexander his glass.

“Me too!” Angelica piped up.

“Can you get me one?” Eliza asked.

“Here, I’ll come with you,” John offered, standing up from his place at the ground, “I can help you carry the glasses.”

“Oh you really don’t need to-”

“It’s fine,” John said, “I’m already up.” He stood beside Alexander, smiling at him slightly. Alexander smiled back.

“Okay,” he said, “Follow me into the kitchen?” John nodded, following Alexander into the kitchen, where the whisky bottle Lafayette had brought was sitting on the table.

“So,” Alexander said, smiling, “How are you enjoying the night?”

“It’s been great,” John said honestly, “Really.”

“That’s good, that’s good,” Alexander said, pouring the whiskey, “Pass me the other glasses?”

“Right,” John said, sliding them across the counter. “Here.”

“Thank you.” John leaned against the table, drumming his fingers on the table. Alexander looked up at John, staring at him curiously.

“What?” John asked, “Is there something on my face?”

“No, uh, sorry,” Alexander said, “You just look like you have something to say.” John blushed.

“I- I don’t know if it’d be appropriate-”

“It’s okay,” Alexander said, cutting him off, “You can ask me, John.” John took a deep breath. Even though he barely knew Alexander, he felt like he could trust him.

“It’s just you’re an angel,” he said, “And I figured if anyone had an answer to my question, anyone I could ask, at least, it would be you.”

“Is something wrong, John?” 

“I grew up in a very, very, religious household,” John admitted, “And I went to church, like, all the time, and when I turned twelve, I- I realized that I was bisexual.” John couldn’t bring himself to look at Alexander, instead choosing to look down into his hands. “I tried to hide from my dad, but he found out a couple of years ago. after I graduated. He kicked me out, cut me off from my family. And- and I was just wondering-”

“If he was right?” Alexander asked, cutting him off softly, “If he was right for kicking you out because you aren’t straight?” John nodded hesitantly. “Oh, fuck, no, John.” Alexander walked over to the other side of the kitchen counter. “Is it okay if I hug you?”

“Uh, yeah,” John muttered. Alexander sighed, wrapping his arms around John’s torso. His body heat was comforting.

“Listen,” Alexander said, “I’m bisexual too. Me, a literal angel, so I think you’re good. At least in the eyes of the Big Guy.”

“So, I’m not going to Hell?” Alexander laughed softly.

“Not for that at least,” he said, jokingly attempting to lighten the mood. When John didn’t laugh he sobered up and cleared his throat. “Listen. You can’t change if you’re gay or straight, but you can decide if you choose to be authentic about your identity or to hide it. You’ve chosen to be authentic, and God is really proud of the choice you’ve made.”

John let out a shaky breath, laughing into his hands.

“So, everything that my dad has said to me about how bad is it that I like men-”

“Horse shit,” Alexander said, smiling, “Trust me.”

“Thank you,” John said, “So much.”

“Anytime John,” he said, “Now, let’s get these drinks back to the people, yeah?”

“Uh, yeah, probably,” he said, grabbing his glass. Alexander snapped his fingers, making the other glasses of whiskey float in a line behind him. “You’re joking.”

“I told you, I didn’t need your help carrying the glasses,” Alexander said, “Telekinesis. It’s part of the angel package.”

“Right. Of course, why not?” John said, “Cool.” Alexander laughed, walking back into the living room. When they reentered, Hercules had moved so he was sitting at Lafayette’s feet, with the fairy resting on a hand on the hunter’s shoulder.

“What took the two of you so long?” Angelica asked, “I needed another round, man.”

“Yeah, what did take you so long?” Lafayette asked, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. John glanced at Eliza in horror.

“Oh, God, no, Eliza I would never-”

“It's alright, John,” Eliza said, smiling, “I can share. There’s enough of Alexander to go around.” She smiled. Alexander rolled his eyes playfully, waving his hand lazily, making the glasses float to their respective owners. He hopped back onto the couch, leaning back into Eliza as she nursed her newly filled glass of whiskey. She smiled, playing with Alexander’s hair.

“As much as I hate hearing about my best friend who’s basically my brother and my actual sister’s sex life, can we move on?” Peggy asked, sipping from her own glass. 

“Oh, John, come sit with us on the couch,” Eliza said, “Hercules took your spot while the two of you were gone.”

“Oh I don’t want to intrude,” John said, “It’s okay.”

“You’re not intruding,” Eliza said, scooting over to make room, “Right, Alexander?”

“Right,” he agreed readily, “Come and sit.” Eliza pat the spot next to them on the couch. John sighed, realizing there was another option, sat down on the couch. Alexander and Eliza smiled at him brightly.

“The sexual tension in this room,” Peggy started, “Could be cut with a knife.” She took a swig from her bottle. John blushed and rushed to find another topic.

“Hey, quick question,” he said, “You’re a student right? So what are you, like, eighteen?”

“I’m nineteen,” Peggy clarified, “Anyway, continue.”

“Right, so what are you drinking?” John asked.

“She’s drinking some kombucha,” Angelica said, “No liquor for the baby until she’s of age.”

“I’m of age in, like, over a hundred countries,” Peggy complained, “I don't understand why you don’t let me drink with friends.”

“You’re not legal in America and that’s where you live, so that’s what counts,” Angelica said, sipping from her glass,  “Besides, I don’t want you to make the mistakes I made when I was your age.” Peggy pouted, sipping from her kombucha bottle.

“You turned out fine,” she muttered, “You’re a lawyer and stuff.” 

“Oh, trust me,” Eliza said, laughing, “Angelica looked like she had her shit together in high school but she was a total mess.”

“Eliza!” Angelica said, “How could you betray me like that?”

“Y’know, when I met Angelica I was a freshman and she was a senior,” said Alexander, sipping from his glass, “She invited me to her party, she was the host of all the best parties at Columbia.”

“Oh, definitely,” Eliza agreed, “That party is actually where Alexander and I met.”

“That’s so romantic!” Lafayette said before turning to face Angelica, “My dear, you are quite the matchmaker.” Angelica shrugged, taking a deep sip from her glass.

“What can I say,” she said, “I didn’t initially invite him so he could meet my little sister, but she saw him and begged me to introduce the two of them.”

“Angelica!” Eliza said, blushing brightly, “I thought we agreed not to talk about that!”

“Awe, Betsey,” Alexander said, jokingly, “You had a crush on me?”

“No shit you doofus,” Eliza said, slapping him playfully, “I’m dating you, aren’t I?”

“Somehow,” Angelica said, “Honestly, I thought nobody was good enough for my little sister.”

“Nobody is,” Alexander agreed, “I just do my best.”

“Oh, yuck!” Peggy said, “You guys are so in love it’s gross.”

“I think it’s adorable,” Lafayette said, smiling, “Very cute.” As he spoke he looked down at Hercules. John sighed. Of course, Lafayette was into Alexander’s brother. John took another deep sip from his cup. He glanced at the clock on the side table. 3:45. They’d been here for more than six hours, how hadn't he noticed?

“It’s getting pretty late,” John muttered. He turned to Lafayette, “What time do you want to head home?”

“No, no,” Eliza said, “All of you are staying here tonight. We have more than enough rooms, it’s a big apartment. My parents went a little bit overboard. You can all stay the night.”

“It’s okay Eliza, really,” John said, “Lafayette and I can just call an Uber.”

“I insist,” Eliza said, “Besides, Alexander is cooking breakfast tomorrow, you really haven’t lived until you’ve eaten his crepes.”

“They really are the food of the gods,” Hercules agreed, “Like, you’ve got to try them, man.” John glanced at Lafayette, asking him silently for his opinion. Lafayette shrugged as if he had no opinion on the matter, but John could tell he wanted to stay. If his eyes weren’t enough, the way he was hanging off of Hercules said enough. John sighed.

“I’m mean, I guess, if it really isn’t going to bother you.”

“God, John, no,” Eliza said, placing one of her hands on John’s crossed legs, “No, you’re not a bother. We want you here.” John couldn’t stop the blush from rising to his cheeks. He had no doubt his face was already red from alcohol, so he hoped that would somewhat camouflage his embarrassment.

“Uh, thanks,” he muttered, “I really appreciate it.”

“Well, I don’t know about you guys, but I’m about ready to turn in,” said Peggy, stretching.

“Same,” said Hercules, “I have work in the morning.”

“That sucks man,” John said, “Luckily, I have the day off tomorrow.”

“As do I,” Lafayette said, “As I am my own boss, I can decide this for myself.”

“You’re all lucky bastards,” Angelica said, “I have a meeting with my client in the morning.”

“Well, I don’t start until Monday,” Alexander said, “So I’m in the clear.”

“I’m ready to turn in,” said, Eliza, sighing, “Are you coming, honey?” Alexander placed a kiss on her forehead. 

“Yeah,” he said, “I can carry you to the bedroom if you want?” Eliza rolled her eyes.

“I’m a big girl,” she said, “I can do it.” she shrugged his arms off of her and stood up, stretching. “So there are four bedrooms, Alex and I can share mine.”

“Peggy and I can share,” Angelica said, “Right, sis?”

“Right,” Peggy agreed.

“Would you like to share with me?” Hercules asked, turning back to face Lafayette. He paused, realizing John was still standing there. “I mean unless you two were planning on sharing-”

“It’s fine,” John said, “I can take the solo fourth bedroom.”

“No sex in my bedroom!” Eliza said, “Please, I just did laundry, those are clean sheets.”

“We weren’t going to have sex,” said Lafayette in false annoyance. Angelica raised a judgemental eyebrow. Hercules huffed.

“Y’all have no faith.”

“No, we just know you Herc,” Alexander said, “And even though we just met Lafayette, he’s pretty easy to read.”

“I am an open book,” Lafayette agreed, shrugging. John sighed.

“Well, I’m going to head to bed,” Angelica said, “Good night losers.”

“Wait, Angie, I’ll come with you,” Peggy said, “I don’t want to accidentally wake you up when I come in.” The group waved at the two sisters as they walked into one of the rooms.

“Would you like to go to bed now as well?” Hercules asked. Lafayette nodded, yawning.

“I am very tired,” he said, “Carry me?” Hercules smiled softly and swept the fairy into his arms.

“Goodnight you three.”

“God, they’re so going to bone,” Alexander said. Eliza slapped him lightly.

“Alexander!” she said, slightly scandalized, “Have faith! They said they weren’t going to.”

“Not tonight,” he said, “I mean at some point.”

“Oh, then definitely,” Eliza said, giggling, “What do you think John?”

“Oh, for sure,” he said, nodding, “Yeah. That is definitely happening.” The couple laughed lightly. 

“Well, tonight was wonderful,” Eliza said, “But I’m going to turn in. John, your room is on the right next to mine.” She pointed at the closest door to the living room, he nodded. “Alexander, are you going to come?”

“I’ll follow in a second,” Alexander said, “I’ll see you in there Betsey.” She nodded and waved goodnight lazily. “Hey, John.”

“Uh, hey,” he said, “I had a lot of fun tonight.”

“Me too,” Alexander said, nodding, “Listen, about what I said earlier. I really meant it, okay? The Big Guy is proud of you for being who you are. Truly and authentically. I don’t pretend to know what your dad was like, what he said to you. But trust me, if he kicked you out just because some old book told him to, he doesn’t deserve you.” John felt tears welling up in his eyes.

“Thank you, Alexander,” he said, “Really. You don’t know how much that means to me.” 

“Is it okay if I hug you?” Alexander asked, “I know I already did earlier but you-” John wrapped his arms around Alexander tightly.

“Thank you.”

“It’s just my job,” Alexander said, “Have a good sleep, John.” 

Chapter Text

Eliza sighed, relishing in the quiet of the morning. She’d gotten a pleasant couple of hours of sleep and woken up with the sun already high in the sky, her arms still wrapped around Alexander.  She’d fallen asleep with her arms wrapped around his torso, her head tucked into the crook of his shoulder.

These moments of quiet were rare, so Eliza cherished every single one. Her boyfriend was warm in her arms, their bodies pressed together, snuggling under her warm comforter. The sun streamed in through her window, making his hair shine under its warm light. He truly looked angelic like this, halo and wings unneeded. His face was truly relaxed, resting in a small smile she loved so much. While conscious, Alexander was constantly moving, drumming a finger or tapping a foot, but unconscious he was truly still. In moments like this Eliza takes the time to take him in, unfiltered. 

One of the first things she takes note of his long eyelashes, resting on his cheeks. They make him look oddly young and innocent. Actually, his entire resting face holds a type of innocence his waking face lacks. In consciousness, Alexander is burdened by the expectations of an angel and the knowledge that comes with it. No matter how much he tries to hide it, Eliza knows how much it weighs down on him mentally. Something about it sends a surge of protectiveness through her, makes her want to wrap her arms around him and keep him safe from the terrors of the outside world.

She traced gentle patterns on his forearm, connecting his beauty marks. She’s frequently compared them to stars painting his skin in beautiful constellations. Alexander had enchanted her with love letters and she’d learned a thing or two on the way.

A car’s horn honked loudly, stirring Alexander from his sleep and disrupting Eliza’s brief moment of peace. He wiggled in Eliza’s arms, glancing behind him as he blinked away the sleep in his eyes.

“Liza?” Alexander mumbled, “Was that an alarm? Are we late?” 

“No, honey, go back to sleep,” she muttered, “It was just a car horn, don’t worry about it. You can afford to sleep in this morning.”

“It’s alright,” he muttered, turning around to face her, “I’m awake now.” He shrugged her arms off of his shoulders and smiled at her. “Morning Betsey.”

“Morning Alexander,” she whispered, “How was your sleep?”

“Better than any I’ve had in days,” he admitted, “Last night was wonderful.”

“It was,” she agreed, “I especially enjoyed seeing the pretty dragon again.”

“He’s not just a pretty face though,” Alexander said, “He’s kind and funny too.”

“I noticed,” she said, smiling, “What were the two of you doing in the kitchen for so long? We were wondering but the two of you never gave us a straight answer.”

“He just had some… questions,” Alexander said vaguely.

“About what?” Alexander paused before frowning.

“It was personal,” he said, “You know I would Betsey-”

“It’s okay, I get,” she assured him, “I was just curious.” Alexander hummed, pulling the blanket up a little higher.

“I do like the dragon,” Alexander admitted, “A lot.” 

“I do too,” Eliza admitted.

“I think I’d like to kiss him,” Alexander whispered, “Is that okay?”

“Of course it is honey,” Eliza reassured  him, “As long as you’ll share with me.” Alexander broke out into a mischievous smile. “What is that grin all about? I know that grin, what are you thinking?”

“I just had an idea,” Alexander said, “What if we made a little bet?” Eliza raised an eyebrow.

“A bet?” she asked, “Care to be more specific?”

“I bet I can get John to kiss me first,” Alexander said, “If he does, you take me to your pond?” Alexander had been bothering Eliza to bring him to her source for a couple of weeks now. It wasn’t that Eliza thought that it was too sacred or something, but her source had none of the grandeur of the sources of her sisters. She didn’t want him to see it and be disappointed. She hummed considering her options.

“And if he kisses me before you?”

“I’ll do whatever you want.”

“Take me for a fly?” Alexander winced.

“Betsey you know that-”

“You said anything,” she countered, “Fly or the bet’s off.” Alexander pouted. Eliza had been begging Alexander to take her flying ever since she’d met him and she still hadn’t managed to convince him. He always insisted it was too dangerous, that he didn’t trust himself to keep her safe. Eliza thought he was just worrying too much. Alexander had carried things twice the size of her, it would be fine.

“Fine,” he said, “Not like you’re going to win anyway.”

“Oh you are so on,” Eliza said, “Just you wait. I got this in the bag.”

“That’s what you think Betsey,” Alexander said, his eyes sparkling, “But I’ve got a couple things up my sleeve. And those things start with my famous crepes.”

“You’re tricky,” she said, “But don’t think you’re winning with just a measly breakfast.”

“You underestimate the power of my crepes,” Alexander said, throwing the blanket off of him. He was wearing a pair of grey sweatpants and had forgone a shirt. Eliza took a moment to hum appreciatively. Alexander smiled suggestively.

“Like what you see?” Eliza smiled.

“Mmh, very much,” she said. Alexander smiled and leaned down to place a kiss on her forehead.

“Well, I’m sure John will too,” Alexander cracked his back, unleashing his wings.

“No halo?” Eliza asked.

“I think it’s a bit much to  be considered casual for the morning,” he said shrugging, “I’m going for a casual, just rolled out of bed but fuckable look.” Eliza smiled.

“Well, two can play at that game,” she said, rolling out of bed, she peeled off her pyjama pants and grabbed a pair of tiny fabric shorts instead. She grabbed one of Alexander’s button-up shirts from the floor, pulling it over her head. Even though Alexander wasn’t much taller than her, the shirt was long enough that her shorts were out of sight.

“It’s unfair for you to wear one of my shirts,” Alexander mumbled, “I’ll be so distracted by you I won’t be able to focus.”

“An unforeseen but not unwelcome consequence,” Eliza said, smiling, “It’s game on honey.” “Game on,” Alexander agreed, smiling competitively. He stepped out of her bedroom and walked into the kitchen. John was sitting on the couch, scrolling on his phone. He was wearing the same jeans and t-shirt he’d been wearing last night.

“John,” Eliza said, “You’re up early.” He shrugged in a clear effort to come off as casual but his face was flushed to a bright red.

“I’m- I’m an early riser.”

“Well, I hope you weren’t alone for too long,” Alexander said, “We didn’t mean to sleep in.” He walked over to John, his wings twitching on his back. Eliza watched as John swallowed, clearly distracted by her boyfriend, whether it was from his bare chest or his exposed wings. Alexander turned around so his face was out of John’s line of sight.

Point to me, he mouthed. Eliza rolled her eyes.

“Oh, uh, don’t worry about it,” he said, his eyes still trained on her boyfriend. “Lafayette loves to sleep in, he won’t be up until at least ten.”

Eliza glanced at the clock in her stove. 9:00. Angelica and Hercules would’ve already left for work and Peggy was a late riser, they wouldn't have to worry about her until at least eleven. This gave her and Alexander at least an hour alone with John. Perfect.

“Ah, well I better get started on breakfast,” Alexander said, smiling, “Would you care to join us in the kitchen, John?”

“Uh, sure,” he said, scrambling to rise from his spot on the couch. 

“Do you like crepes John?” Eliza asked, slowing down to match John’s pace. For a second he stared at her blankly, his jaw-dropping slightly. Eliza smiled to herself, by the looks of it she was tying up the score.

“Lafayette makes them sometimes,” John managed, “They’re, uh, really good.”

“Well, I’m sure you’ll enjoy these,” Eliza said, “Alexander is quite… talented with his hands in the kitchen.”

“Is he?” John asked. 

“I like to think so,” Alexander said, pulling out a mixing bowl, “I had a lot of practice in college.”

“Oh, uh, really?” John asked, taking a seat at the breakfast bar, “Why?”

“In Alexander’s first year of college, his roommate was pretty useless in the kitchen.”

“He was useless in more places than the kitchen,” Alexander said, “The man was raised with a silver spoon up his ass. He could barely function on his own.”

“Anyway,” Eliza said, “Alexander had to pick up his slack. He’s quite the good cook.”

“Well, I’m excited to try the crepes,” said John, “I’m sure they’ll be wonderful.” Alexander beamed at home as he began combining the ingredients.

“So John,” Eliza said, “How did you sleep last night?”

“Really well actually,” he said, “The bed is really comfortable.”

“That’s good,” she said, “You know, that’s where Alexander used to sleep before we started dating.”

“How long have the two of you been together?” John asked, leaning on the bar.

“Well, we met when I was a senior in high school and Alexander was a freshman in university,” Eliza said, “We were the same age though, he had skipped a grade. It was love at first sight.”

“It really was,” Alexander agreed, “But, ah, we didn’t start dating right away. I was just starting school-“

“And I was just out of a relationship,” Eliza said, “We were both cautious at first but eventually gave it a try.”

“We’re coming up on five years this Christmas,” Alexander said, grabbing a frying pan from the wall.

“That’s really cute,” John said, “You guys are like, the epitome of couple goals.”

“We do our best,” Eliza said, walking up to join Alexander on the other side of the counter. She places a chaste kiss on Alexander’s cheek.

“Uh, I hate to ask you guys for anything else but do you have any aspirin by chance?” John asked, “My head is killing me, I’m a little hungover.”

“In the cabinet above the sink,” Eliza said, “Do you want me to come and show you?”

“No, it’s fine,” John said, waving her off, “I got it. Thanks.” He hopped off the barstool and walked down the hallway to her washroom. When she was sure he was out of earshot she turned towards Alexander.

“He was eating out of the palm of our hands,” Eliza said, smiling

“You’re going to have to up your game sweetheart,” Alexander said playfully, “So far it looks like I got this in the bag.”

“You just wait and see Alexander,” she said, “Don’t count me out yet, we’re just getting started.” She let a little bit of competitiveness leak into her voice, just the right amount to get Alexander riled up.

“Oh I haven’t,” he said, “I’m just ten steps ahead of you Betsey.” She rolled his eyes.

“Focus on your crepes there Mister,” she said,  “Wouldn’t want them to burn.” He used the spatula to transfer the crepe from the pan to a plate. He created a sizable pike of them at this point, more than enough to feed the crowd this morning. He turned off the burner, focusing all of his attention on Eliza. He smiled and placed his hands on her hips.

“It’s hard to focus on anything with you standing there in my shirt,” he said, “It’s hardly fair for anyone to look so beautiful.” He brought her closer, resting his forehead on hers.

“You absolute flirt,” she said, smiling.

“Only for you,” he muttered, leaning down to kiss her softly. His lips are soft and familiar, she smiled into the kiss. He pushed her backwards, the edge of the breakfast bar, pressing into her back. She pressed her hand into the counter, pushing herself upwards so she sits on the top of the counter. Alexander moves happily between her legs. She sighs into the kiss, this really has never gotten old.

Behind them, a pill bottle drops to the floor. John is standing in the hallway, the way his eyes travel up and down implies that he’s enjoying this more than a friend should when walking in on a couple.

Eliza and Alexander jump apart at the sudden noise, startled and embarrassed to be caught making out like a pair of horny teenagers. Eliza has no doubt her cheeks are glowing a deep dark blue and Alexander’s own cheeks were looking a little rosy. Even though this little bet is between her and Alexander, she adds a new column to the table mentally giving John a point. It was all tied up.

Eliza shakes her head, attempting to refocus. She hops off the counter and smoothed the wrinkles from the button-up. The three of them are standing in an awkward triangle of blushing and avoiding eye contact.

“I smell crepes!” Lafayette said excitedly, practically skipping into the room. “Is it time to eat?” Lafayette looked between the three of them, narrowing his eyes. “Am I missing something here?”

Chapter Text

Lafayette looked at them questioningly. After getting caught by John while kissing Eliza, something he was not fully opposed to but was surprised by, he and Eliza had little time to recover before Lafayette walked into the kitchen. Alexander barely had the time to smooth out his hair before he started narrowing his eyes at the three of them.

For a second the group stood there in silence before a fifth person joined them.

“Good morning everyone,” Peggy said, smiling, “How’s it going?”

“It’s good,” Eliza said, quickly, “Really good.”

“The, uh, the crepes are ready, so do we want to start eating?” Alexander said, recovering. “If everyone is awake we might as well start, yeah?”

“That would be wonderful,” Lafayette said, a smile returning to his face.

“Yes,” Eliza agreed, “I’ll grab all of you some plates.”

“What do you like on your crepes?” Alexander asked, “I’ll grab you some fillings.”

“I’d like some fruit,” Lafayette said, “I’m not picky.”

“I like the same thing as Lafayette,” Peggy said, smiling.

“Great, we’ve got some berries,” Alexander said, sifting through the fridge, “We’ve also got some whipped cream.”

“Do you have lemon and cinnamon sugar?” John asked, “That’s my favourite.”

“We do,” Eliza said, grabbing the two ingredients from the pantry, “Great.” The couple walked through the kitchen, grabbing various fillings and setting them in the middle of the breakfast bar.

“Wonderful,” Alexander said, “Dig in.” Lafayette and Peggy reached for a crepe enthusiastically while John waited a couple of seconds to grab one slowly. Eliza and Alexander waited for the two of them to finish to grab their own crepes. Alexander watched quietly as they each took their first bite.

“It’s really good,” John agreed, “Like, fuck man, I don’t know how you made these.” Alexander beamed at him.

“I told you, man,” Peggy said, “This is the only reason I keep this man around.” Alexander furrowed his eyebrows together in confusion.

“You keep me around for my crepes but not because I’m dating you sister?”

“There have been other boyfriends,” Peggy said, shrugging, “No one with this culinary skill.”

“She’s right y’know,” Eliza said smiling, “Your cooking is a big part of why I’m dating you.”

“And here I was thinking it was my winning personality,” Alexander muttered.

“That too,” Eliza said, pecking him on the cheek. Alexander smiled.

“Oh my God,” Lafayette moaned, “Alexander is this the food of the gods? It’s so fucking good.”

“Thanks,” Alexander said, smiling, “And Lafayette, to answer your question, I have served these once at a family breakfast on the rare occasion, I, uh, go upstairs.”

“That’s crazy,” Lafayette said, swallowing his crepe.

“I always forget that you can actually go to heaven,” Peggy said, chewing her crepe, “Like, that’s fucking wild.”

“Well, none of the angels were nearly as appreciative as you guys though,” he said, “Angels don't actually need to eat so a lot of them don’t care for food.” Alexander sighed, thinking about the other angels.

“That’s kind of sad,” John said, “Food is like, one of the best parts of my day.”

“Agreed,” Peggy said, “I live for food.”

“Angels are all kind of weird,” Alexander said, shrugging. He took another bite of his crepe.

“Including you?” John asked playfully, Eliza laughed.

“Oh definitely,” she said, “Alexander is very strange.”

“Rude,” Alexander muttered, nudging her shoulder.

“It’s not a bad thing,” Eliza said, “I like that you're strange.” Alexander rolled his eyes.

“Eat your crepe,” he muttered, unable to keep a small smile from creeping onto his face. Eliza laughed.

“You’re not fooling anyone,” she said, “You love me.”

“I do,” he said, “But I don’t think everyone else appreciates this right now.”

“Don’t stop on our account,” Lafayette said, playfully, “I love a show.”

“I’m sorry about him,” John said, rolling his eyes.

“Nothing to be sorry about,” Eliza said, shrugging. Alexander sighed, and swallowed another piece of his crepe.

“So what are your plans for the rest of the day?” he asked.

“Well, I have a shift at the café,” Lafayette said, “But that’s not for a little while still.”

“I’m going to hang out with some of my friends,” Peggy said, “Savouring my summer vacation and all that.” Alexander nodded appreciatively.

“I’ve got nothing on deck today,” John said, “But I think that I might do some work on a painting when I get home.”

“You paint?” Alexander asked curiously.

“I do,” John said, nodding, “It’s just kind of what I do on the side while also being a barista.”

“That’s very interesting John,” Eliza said enthusiastically, “When I first moved into this apartment Alexander and I was looking for some artwork. I particularly wanted a piece from a local artist.” She pointed to a small painting hanging in the kitchen. It was a still life of a bowl of fruit with wide brush strokes. “That one is from a small dwarven shop in SoHo.”

“It’s very pretty,” John said, “Very nice use of light and perspective.” Eliza beamed at him.

“I always admired artists,” Alexander said, “I could never get the colours to cooperate, I’m kind of awful at any and all things art.”

“That’s not true,” Eliza scolded, “You’re good at written word stuff. Like your poetry?”

“I did not think you a poet,” Lafayette said, smiling at him, “That’s very romantic Alexander.”

“It really was,” Eliza agreed, “He swooned me with his words. I still have the original copies of his poems. I keep them in my office.”

“You never told me that,” Alexander said, smiling.

“The two of you’re so sweet it’s sickening,” Lafayette said, smiling. 

“We try our best,” Eliza said cheekily. Alexander smiled and placed a chaste kiss on Eliza’s cheek. Alexander cut up the last bit of the crepe and ate it. The others around the table finished up their breakfast. Peggy had already finished a third and sighed deeply, pushing the plate away from her.

“I need to be stopped,” she muttered, “I need to like, leave now and sleep for a hundred years.”

“Well,” Lafayette said, “John and I should probably get home too.”

“Don’t feel rushed,” Alexander said, “Eliza and I will clean up. Feel free to head out whenever you want.”

“Thank you for inviting us, really,” John said, smiling at the two of them, “This really was wonderful.”

“We’re glad you could come,” Alexander said sincerely, “I’ll see you in the café, it’s really become one of my favourites.” John smiled shyly, waving as he and Lafayette slipped out of the door. 

“Well, see you guys later,” Peggy said, “I need to sleep. At home.”

“See you later Peggy,” Eliza said, “Say hi to mom and dad for me?”

“Gotcha,” she said. She waved as she walked out of the apartment. Alexander turned to Eliza, smiling at her widely.

“Finally alone,” he said, “Care to pick up where we left off?”

“Don’t you think we should clean up a little?” Eliza said, pointing at the dishes.

“I think they can wait,” Alexander said, snaking a hand around her waist.

“You insatiable,” she muttered.

“Only for you.” Eliza pulled his head closer to hers, kissing him softly. Alexander smiled into the kiss. Eliza leaned back and nuzzled her face into the crook of Alexander’s neck.

“We really should do the dishes though,” she muttered. Alexander laughed.

“You’re right,” he whispered back.

“I tend to be,” she said, “Do you want to help me out with this Mister Telekinesis?” Alexander sighed playfully and flicked a hand. At his command, the dishes floated off the counter, and into the dishwasher. With another swoop of his hands, he cleaned up the remaining pieces of food, all of the floatings into small Tupperware. In seconds, the kitchen was as spotless as it had been before he’d started cooking.

“There,” he said, “Happy?”

“Very,” she said, smiling, “That telekinesis really is useful.”

“One of my favourite abilities,” Alexander agreed, “It has many different uses.”

“Indeed,” she agreed. Eliza sighed, tracing patterns on his bare chest. It felt wonderfully calming. She amazed Alexander when she did that. He’d never been a particularly calm person, but Eliza had always managed to have that effect on him.

“I can’t believe you’re going to be actually working soon,” she mumbled, “It’s just so crazy to me.”

“What do you mean actually working?” Alexander asked, “Have I not been working?” He tilted his head to the side. Eliza was constantly complaining that he was working too much, but now she said that he was just beginning to work?

“No, like, now you have an actual job,” Eliza said, “Instead of doing like, freelance stuff and talking about deadlines you don’t actually have. I’m just nervous that you…” She trailed off, dropping her gaze. Alexander frowned and attempted to look her in the eye.

“What are you nervous about, Betsey?”

“I’m just worried you’re not going to have much free time,” she said quietly, “That you won’t have enough time for me. And- and I know how important this job is to you but-”

“I’ll always have free time for you,” he muttered, cutting her off. “Don’t worry about that, okay? No matter how busy I get, I always have time for you.” Eliza smiled softly and pressed a soft kiss on Alexander’s jawline.

“Thank you,” she muttered.

“Of course.” Eliza sighed and rested her head on Alexander’s bare chest.

“This is going to be our last weekend of relaxing for a while,” she muttered, “Will you spend it with me on the couch?”

“Gladly,” he said, grabbing her hand. She smiled and dragged him to the couch in the living room. The midday sun streamed through the window, shining brightly. The couple sat down together and Alexander snuggled closer to her. Eliza sighed and rested her body against his. For a second they sat there in comfortable silence, relishing in the company of the other. Alexander ran a hand through Eliza’s dark hair, combing the knots out of gently. Once it was knot-free he began braiding it mindlessly, undoing and redoing them.

“Do you think we went a little too aggressive with John?” she asked, “Because as much I want him to kiss me, I don’t want to overwhelm him.” Alexander sighed, undoing the braid that he’d been working on. 

“Maybe a little,” Alexander said, nodding, “But I think it was okay. Maybe we should chill out a little.”

“Probably,” she agreed, humming. She smiled playfully. “Now, I have to say, I think our little game is all tied up.”

“Maybe,” he agreed, “But just you wait until I pull ahead.”

“You have so much confidence in yourself,” Eliza hummed, “I hope you’re prepared to be disappointed.” Alexander laughed.

“Sure,” he said, “As soon as you have a moment alone with John.”

“I’m just getting started,” she said, “You have no idea what you’re getting into. I have some tricks up my sleeve, mister.”

“Oh do you?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. Eliza nodded smugly. Alexander smiled.

“Your girls got game,” she said.

“Oh I know she does,” Alexander said, “I’m very familiar. In fact, I remember your stunts when we first met. I specifically remember a time with an ice cream cup.”

“You asshole!” she said groaning, “I thought we agreed to never speak of that again!” Alexander smiled playfully. Before Alexander and Eliza had begun dating, she’d attempted to flirt with him by buying him an ice cream cone. At this point, she hadn’t known that Alexander didn’t really eat. When she offered it to him and he declined she awkwardly attempted to dump the ice cream in a trash can but ended up missing, the dessert landing on her foot.

Alexander had found it quite endearing, but Eliza had begged him not to talk about it.

“What do you mean?” he asked innocently, “I thought you wanted to talk about your romantic conquests there Betsey.”

“You’re the worst,” she said, her smile betraying her tone, “Actually the worst.” Alexander just smiled.

Chapter Text

As cliché as it is, Alexander can’t sleep on Sunday night.

He gives up at around one in the morning and opens his inbox. Even though he’s not technically on the clock until tomorrow morning Washington’s people have already sent him important documents filled with names he needed to memorize and papers to read. He realizes very suddenly that he’s a little out of his depth. This is his first job at the federal level, and he’s more than a little nervous. He’d assumed that the introduction to the job would’ve been steadier, but Washington’s approach was more of a rapid acceleration.

He’s practically committed all of Washington’s Wikipedia page to memory. He doesn’t want to start at a disadvantage, this isn’t exactly a game but he intends to win either way. Part of him wonders if the past couple of days had just been some strange fever dream, if he’d merely imagined it all. Half of him expects not to be let into Washington’s office at all.

Nevertheless, he continues his morning as normal. He pulls on his second-nicest suit, a navy one with a white button-up. He’s only three of these things, so he’ll have to stretch these things out.

Thankfully, security doesn’t stop him at the door and an unfamiliar man greets him at the door. He was black, broad-shouldered and a little taller than him. His photo lanyard identifies him as James Madison, the new head speechwriter Washington had mentioned during his interview, He glances down at his own lanyard. He looked fine if a little tired.

“Morning,” he said, “It's a pleasure to have you on staff. I’m James Madison, the head speechwriter for Senator Washington.” Alexander shook his hand, his grip was firm, if a little suffocating. He began walking down the hall, in the opposite direction of Washington’s office.

“The General’s already here,” James said, “That’s what we call Washington by the way.”

“Got it.”

“And as a general rule you’re going to want to come in either before or at the same time as him,” he said, “This job won’t be easy, you won’t have time to sleep.”

“Sleep isn’t a necessity,” Alexander said, smiling crookedly.

“You’ll soon find out the General doesn’t like joking,” James said casually,  “Trust me. It’s easier if you don't try at all.”

“Noted,” Alexander said, nodding. “All business no pleasure?”

“Now you’re picking up what I’m putting down,” he said, nodding, “Listen. I don’t mean to rain on your parade or anything, you seem like a good kid, really.” Alexander frowned, he couldn’t have been much older than him.

“How old are you again?”

“I’m thirty-one,” James said, shrugging. Nine years older than him, so Alexander let the kid slide.

He stopped, pointing at a row of offices. Two of the rooms already had nameplates screwed on. These are bronze, instead of the shiny gold one screwed onto Washington’s door. One was engraved with Madison’s name, the other was a Thomas Jefferson’s, according to the nameplate, Washington’s Director of communications. The third room has no nameplate.

‘“That one’s yours,” he said, “Though I’d suggest seeing the boss, it is your first day. His office is on the far side of the hallway.” Without further elaboration, James walks through his own office door.

“Cool,” Alexander muttered, “Great to meet you too.” He rolled his eyes and huffed, walking down the hall towards Washington’s office. He knocked quickly. No response. He knocked a little harder.

“Come in.” Alexander sighed, steeled his nerves and opened the door. Washington is sitting at his desk, looking over a couple of documents. Alexander coughed, attempting to get Washington's attention. The Senator blinked, before setting his documents on his desk.

“Alexander,” he said, “Welcome, I’m assuming you met Madison?”

“Yes sir,” he said, “Greeted me at the door.”

“Wonderful,” George said, “Take a seat.” Alexander complied, sitting down in the chair across from Washington. “Do correct me if I’m wrong but this is your first federal job?”

“Yes, sir,” Alexander said, nodding.

“Interesting,” Washington said. He began spinning a pen between his fingers. If Alexander looked closely, he noticed that it wasn’t actually touching his hand. It was just floating through his fingers. Alexander was very familiar with the look of telekinesis and noticed this was distinctly different, Washington must’ve been manipulating the winds.

“Before I served the public in an office I served in the military,” he said conversationally. Although he was confused by the sudden change in topic, he decided to adapt easily.

“You served in Kuwait,” Alexander remembered, “For a couple of years after grad school.” He pat himself on the back for remembering that particular detail from Washington's Wikipedia page.

“You’re right,” Washington said, nodding. Alexander tried to gauge his response to no avail. Washington neither came off as very impressed or surprised, his face shockingly neutral.

“Do you have experience in the military, son?” Washington’s nickname of choice admittedly ruffles his (currently hidden) feathers, but Alexander manages to stifle any complaints.

“Not the earthly military, sir,” Alexander said, “I have some experience, ah, upstairs, if you catch my drift.”

“I do,” Washington said, nodding, “Though I wasn’t aware there were any celestial battles recently.”

“Not really, no,” Alexander said, “Mostly just training, just in case. The Big Guy likes to be prepared.”

“I can imagine,” Washington said, nodding. he sighed, clearing his throat. “Now, let’s talk about my expectations.”

“Right, yes, of course,” Alexander said, sitting up straight.

“Normally, I wouldn’t run you through the wringer because you’d’ve been promoted. Of course, this is not the case so today it’s just you and me, son,” George said, “You will act as my bridge between myself and the employees who I’ve employed. It’s crucial that the two of us present a united and professional front for the rest of the staff. Speaking of, do you have many suits?” Alexander winced involuntarily.

“Some,” he responded vaguely.

“The department will provide some for you,” Washington decided, scribbling something down in a notebook. “You will directly supervise part-time and full-time workers, while also overseeing new hires and applicants. You will write performance reviews and any employee with concerns will be coming to you. You will oversee policies, procedures the budget and plans. Finally, you will conduct staff meetings and act as my representative to the staff when I am not available.”

“Got,” Alexander said, making a mental checklist.

“It’s crucial for you to practice discretion about your work,” he continued, “You’ll be privy to a lot of information that is classified to the rest of the public.”

“I’m assuming there’s a standard NDA for all this,” Alexander said.

“There is,” he said, “Jefferson, will bring it to your desk later today. He’s our communications director but has a background in law.”

“Got it,” Alexander said, nodding, “And, uh, will Jefferson and I be working together often?”

“Semi-regularly,” Washington said, nodding.

“Cool.” Washington sighed.

“Well,” he said, “Honestly my boy, this job isn’t for everyone. There are long hours, and stress-filled days but I see something in you.” Alexander stood up a little straighter.

“Thank you, sir,” he said, smiling. 

“Well, I believe you have some contracts to sign, son,” Washington said, his tone returning to the business professional front.

“Right,” Alexander said, recognizing the dismissal. “Of course.”

By lunch, Alexander has made decent headway into the piles of paperwork he’d arrived to at his new desk. He’s fallen into an easy rhythm of checking between his computer screen and the papers, cross-checking and typing. He’d walked into his office at ten past nine and the next time he looks up at the clock it's half past noon. He’s quite proud of himself. He’s already put out a small fire between two interns arguing about their duties for the day.  In a way, the new pressure to perform has motivated him in a way he’s never felt before.

Madison knocks on his door at one.

“Thomas and I are having lunch in the commissary,” he said, “If you’d like, you can come to sit with us. We could tell you the important things you need to know about the office.” For a second Alexander considers denying the invitation. He really does have a lot of work to start on, but he figures that having some allies in the office might not be a bad thing.

“Why not?” he said, closing his laptop.

“Wonderful,” Madison said, smiling politely, “They’re serving fish and chips today.” Alexander followed Madison through the office to an elevator, pressing the up button. Even the way the man walks reeks of practiced professionalism, his paces even and business-like.

“So how long have you been working for Was- the General?” Alexander asked, attempting to make lighthearted conversation.

“A couple of years now,” Madison said casually, “I started as an intern and worked my way up to speechwriter. The General recently promoted me after the last speechwriter resigned to pursue another career.”

“And what do you think of it so far?” Alexander asked. The elevator dinged, the two of them stepped in. James pushed the button for the second floor. the directory informed him that the second floor was home to the commissary and corporate gym.

“I like it,” he said, “The General is a reasonable man and surprisingly understanding.” Alexander hummed, nodding. 

The door pinged, opening to the comissary. It’s not much to look at, mostly white tables and buffet tables. Other interns and staff members are sitting at the tables, talking amongst themselves. Alexander was pleased to see a diverse group of species mingling together. Madison walks up to the salad table silently, placing some chickpeas and leaves on the plate.

“Do you have any dietary restrictions?” Madison asked.

“Not exactly.” Madison raised an eyebrow.

“Care to elaborate?”

“Angels don’t technically need to eat,” he said, “But we can.”

“Understood,” Madison hummed.

“Uh, what about you?” Alexander asked, “Any restrictions?”

“High cholesterol runs in my family,” Madison said, “I’ve generally got a pretty weak immune system and overall health, so I try to eat clean. And I’m allergic to peanuts.” As he spoke, Madison grabbed a cup of coffee. 

“Right,” Alexander said, making himself a small portion of salad.

“I have, however, heard that those are quite wonderful,” Madison said, pointing to a basket of cookies. If Alexander peered at the label, he could see that they were chocolate peanut butter flavoured. They were quite large, probably the size of a small saucer. 

“I’ll pass for now,” Alexander said, “I’ve been trying to cut back on sugar.” This is a complete lie. The nutrition of the food he eats has little to no health impacts on him at all, but can’t find another reason to turn down the cookie. Alexander grabbed a cup of coffee. He knew it wouldn’t be as hot as he would’ve liked, but realized that some coffee was better than no coffee. Madison walked towards one of the empty tables, sitting down.

“Thomas should be joining us soon,” Madison said, poking at his salad, “He just had to finish up a couple of things in the office.”

“Right.” Alexander focused on the salad. Madison seemed pleasant enough if a little boring. Madison hummed, chewing his leaves thoughtfully. 

As he ate, another man joined them, placing his tray on the table. Alexander noticed that he’d gone for the fish and chips instead of a salad. He’d also gone for a cup of coffee, but his was much lighter tan colour, presumably filled with milk and sugar.

“Afternoon gentlemen,” said an oddly familiar southern drawl, “How are y’all?” Alexander looked up, looking the newcomer in the eye for the first time. Alexander froze, realizing where he recognized the man’s voice. It was the demon from the café, the incubus. He took a deep breath, trying to reel in his temper. He worked with this man now, they were professionals. Washington had said that they’d be working together frequently. It wouldn’t do well to alienate him even more.

“Oh,” he said, “It’s you.” Not great, but not as outright rude as it could’ve been. He pat himself on the back mentally.

“Have you two met?” Madison asked, looking between them curiously.

“Briefly,” the demon said, nonchalantly, “But I think we got off on the wrong foot, didn’t we darling?”

“We had a small… misunderstand,” Alexander agreed. “But I don’t think we ever introduced ourselves properly. I’m Alexander Hamilton, Washington’s new chief of staff.” The demon raised an impressed eyebrow.

“Thomas Jefferson, communications director,” he said, “I’m surprised, I thought you were the new speechwriter. Based on your age, nothing personal of course.” Jefferson, because he was Jefferson, not Thomas, smiled a bit too wide, shaking his hand.

“Of course,” Alexander agreed. “Nothing personal.”

“How old are you?” Jefferson asked, sitting down at the table, “Just… out of curiosity.” Alexander had a feeling this was a trap but wasn’t quite sure where this was going.

“Twenty-two,” he said casually, “You?”

“Thirty,” Thomas said, “I’ve been working in communications for a while, but on Washington’s team I’m a relatively new hire.”

“Ah, well,” Madison said, intervening in the conversation, “The three of us will be working closely for the foreseeable future.” He raised his cup of coffee in a toast. It feels oddly formal for a commissary, but fitting to Madison’s, and Jefferson’s really, personality. They seem like the type who go out to fancy restaurants for business dinners, not the office commissary. Alexander saw Jefferson raise his cup and did the same. “To a new partnership.” 

Jefferson smiled at Alexander like a shark, a little to wide, a little to white. Alexander swallowed, raising his own cup of coffee. Thankfully, Jefferson copied him without complaint.

Jefferson and Alexander each muttered in assent, clinking their paper cups of coffee before each taking a small sip.

Chapter Text

Eliza sighed, knocking on Alexander’s office door. After asking around the office, she’d determined his lunch break was at one.

“Alexander?” she said, “It’s me. I’m taking you out for lunch.” Behind the door, she could hear him typing quickly.

“Come in!” Alexander called. Eliza twisted the door handle, pushing her way into the office slowly.

“Hey there,” she said, smiling, “C’mon. Close your laptop. We’re going out for lunch.” ALexander blinked looking up from his computer.

“Eliza, I can’t I have a lot of work to do,” he said, “Washington has been really busy lately and I-”

“None of that now,” she said, “I talked to Washington. He says you need a break.” Alexander grimaced. Eliza sighed, walking over to his desk and grabbing his wrist. “Up. Let’s go. We’re going to eat and talk.” Thankfully, Alexander closed his laptop and allowed Eliza to pull him out of his chair.

“Where are we going?” he asked, exiting his office.

“Rob’s,” she replied, “You need some carbs in you.”

“You know that’s not how this works-”

“Shh,” she said, “It’ll make you feel better.” Alexander rolled his eyes affectionately. As they exited they passed some familiar, working in the bullpen.

“Aaron?” she asked, “I didn’t know you worked here. I thought you still worked at the café.” The warlock looked up, in surprise. Eliza had become a regular at Lafayette’s café. She and Aaron had actually begun talking more often, as he served her from across the counter.

Now, he was sitting at a desk in Washington’s bullpen, typing away at something vigorously. Instead of his normal attire of apron, short-sleeve button-up and chinos, he was wearing dress pants and a crisp white dress shirt.

“I quit last week,” Aaron said, “Washington picked me up as a speechwriter. I just started working here yesterday.”

“I assigned Burr to this desk, here,” Alexander said, “I thought it was a good one.”

“It is, thank you, sir,” Aaron said, his voice tinged with bitterness.

“I told you, don’t call me sir,” Alexander said, “But, uh, you’re welcome.” Eliza sighed.

“Well, we won’t keep you held up,” Eliza said, “We’re just heading out for lunch. Have a nice day, Aaron.”

“You too Eliza.” She smiled at him before Alexander led her out of the building. Once they were out of earshot, Eliza tugged on Alexander’s sleeve.

“Why didn’t you tell me Aaron started working here?” she asked.

“It just happened, cut me some slack,” he said, “I was going to tell you.” Eliza hummed, sighing. “How has your week been?” he asked.

“It’s been good,” she said, sighing, “I had lunch with my sisters, did some brainstorming for next year. Just a couple of lesson plans and all that. Other than that I’ve mostly been lounging around the house.”

“I feel bad,” Alexander muttered, “For leaving you at home. I don’t want you to feel like I’d rather be at work than with you, I just, I need to prove myself to Washington.”

“I know, I don’t blame you,” Eliza said, sighing, “I know that government work is tough. My dad worked all the time when I was younger. I just want you to remember to take time off. This job can be all-consuming. And the time you take  off, it doesn’t need to be with me, I just need you to remember to take a break.”

“I will,” he promised, “Don’t worry Liza. I know how to manage my time.” She looked at him skeptically. “I do!”

“Sure,” she said. They turned down the street, walking into Rob’s Italian restaurant. They stepped into the familiar restaurant comforted by the homey atmosphere.

“Eliza! Alexander!” said the waiter, Tom, “Do you want your usual table?”

“Tom,” Alexander said, smiling, “Yes, if possible that would be amazing.” Tom hummed, grabbing two menus and walking to the back of the restaurant. Eliza and Alexander followed before stopping at their usual table. It was in the back corner of the room, nestled next to a window.

“Wonderful,” Eliza said, “Thank you.” Tom smiled at them, setting the menus on the table. Eliza sat down grabbing one and scanning it. “What are you going to get?” she asked.

“I’m not very hungry,” Alexander said, “Would you be open to splitting a dish with me?”

“Sure,” she said, nodding, “How do you feel about linguini?”

“Sounds good to me,” Alexander said, shrugging. 

“Great.” She closed the menu, setting it down on the table. She waved down Tom, who ran up to them with two glasses of water in hand. He placed them both on the table. “Can we get the linguini?”

“Of course,” he said, “Coming right up.”

“Thank you, Tom,” Alexander said, smiling. The waiter nodded.

“Now, we’re going to talk about anything except work, got it?” Alexander rolled his eyes jokingly.

“Fine,” he agreed, “No work talk.” Eliza beamed at him.

“Great,” she said, “Now, there has been something I’ve been meaning to talk about.” Alexander tilted his head to the side in confusion.

“Is something wrong?” he asked.

“No, nothing’s wrong,” she said, “It’s just, you were saying you didn’t want me to be lonely so-”

“What are you asking for Eliza?”

“I want a cat.”

Alexander sighed, resting his head in his hands.

“Eliza, we don’t have enough time for a cat.”

“But we do!” Eliza said, “I’m at home all the time! And, it’s not like I’m asking for a dog, which is way more work.”

“Eliza you go back to school in September,” he countered, “Are you going to have enough time for the cat then?”

“Yes!” She insisted, “Cat’s are really independent, they don’t need constant attention.” Alexander sighed, looking out the window thoughtfully.

“Were you thinking about going to an animal rescue centre?” Alexander asked. Eliza nodded vigorously.

“Of course,” she said, “We don’t need a pure breed or whatever, just a little thing.”

“And this would make you happy?”

“Very.” He sighed.

“Okay, we’ll get a cat.” Eliza beamed at him.

“You’re the best,” she said. She leaned across the table, placing a kiss on his nose. He smiled back at her tiredly.

“Only for you Betsey,” he said, “Now, do you have any name ideas?”

“Well, I think I’ll know when I see them,” Eliza said, “I think names really rely on what the cat looks like.”

“I actually agree,” Alexander said, nodding, “Admittedly, I have a soft spot for cats. My mom and I had one that used to hang around our apartment. She wasn’t ours, but she liked to walk around and eat little scraps.”

“Awe,” Eliza said, “What was her name?”

“Tobi,” he said, “Short for Tobillio. It means ankle in Spanish.” Eliza laughed.

“Why?” she asked, “Why did you name a cat ankle?”

“Well, the first time we saw her walking around she came up to my mom and licked her ankle,” Alexander said, smiling to himself, “So we named her that in honour of our first meeting.”

“That’s really cute,” Eliza said, “Like, really endearing. How old were you?”

“Probably five,” Alexander said, “She was a little kitten. She stopped coming around a little bit before my mom died. She was getting old, she probably died on the streets.”

“Were you okay?” Eliza asked, “Like, were you sad about it at all?”

“I mean, not really,” he said, shrugging, I was a little preoccupied. Mom was sick, and I, well, y’know I was trying to heal her so I wasn’t exactly in the right frame of mind and I guess I didn’t really notice until a couple of weeks later.” Eliza opened her mouth to respond when Tom interrupted h

“Here we are,” said Tom walking up to them, dish in hand, “The linguini.” Eliza smiled at Tom.

“Thank you, Tom,” she said.

“Enjoy you two.” 

“So, uh, pasta?” She said.

“Right, Alexander said, clearing his throat. “Ready to eat?” Eliza nodded, grabbing her fork. She twirled the noodles around her fork, looking at Alexander. She contemplated asking Alexander about his mom. She knew it was a sore subject, but if they needed to talk to each other, right? They needed to trust each other.

“You never did tell me about that,” Eliza said, “About you and your mom. Like, what happened.” Alexander’s sad expression caught her off guard, making her backtrack. “I mean, you don’t need to tell me-”

“No, it’s okay,” he said. “Remind me, what have I told you?”

“Well, she was sick,” she replied, “And that you tried to heal her but it didn’t work.” Alexander hummed. Eliza reached across the table squeezing his hand reassuringly. 

“Well, yeah, she was sick, pneumonia or something,” he said, mumbling, “And we didn’t have enough money to bring her to the hospital. At first, I offered to do a couple of interviews, just enough to make some money so we could afford treatment.”

“You hate those things,” Eliza mumbled.

“I do,” he agreed, “And of course, my mom knew that. She wouldn’t let me. So, I resorted to trying to heal her myself. Of course, I wasn’t made to heal someone, I’m a soldier.”

“And?”

“Well, other angels are better at this type of stuff,” he said, “But at the time, the only way I could do it was taking the sickness from her, I figured since I was an angel that it wouldn’t kill me. Of course, I couldn’t be more wrong. Instead of just her, now we were both sick. I couldn’t take care of her. She caught on, a couple of days later and she asked me to stop.” He took a deep breath.

“At first I resisted,” he said, “I- I didn’t want to let her go, but she told me that she knew she had limited time left. And so, I let go.” He looked off, out the window. His eyes were watery. “And then I woke up the next morning and she was gone.” Eliza grabbed his hand, kissing it lightly.

“You did your best,” she said, “You did everything you could do.”

“I know,” Alexander said, “I just can’t forget about it.” The two sat there in silence, comforted by the other’s presence. Eliza sighed, putting her work down in the empty pasta dish.

“How was it?” Tom asked, interrupting her inner monologue. he grabbed their plate. “Would you like the bill?” Alexander wiped his tears discreetly on his sleeve.

“Right, it was wonderful,” Eliza said, speaking for the two of them, “And yes, the bill would be wonderful.”

“Great, here,” Tom said, setting the machine on the table.

“I got it,” Alexander said, grabbing the machine, “It’s my turn anyway.” Before Eliza could complain he whipped out his credit card and tapped it.

“Thanks,” she said. He shrugged, handing the machine back to Tom.

“Well, have a nice day, you two,” Tom said, handing them the receipt. he ran back into the kitchen.

“Let’s go?” he asked, “I need to get back to work.”

“Right,” Eliza agreed, “Let’s go.” She grabbed her purse. It was a pretty thing her mother and father had given her to celebrate her first year as a teacher. They waved to the restaurant workers as the walked through towards the exit. They exited the restaurant, walking on to the street. For a moment all was quiet, and Eliza immediately knew something was wrong. The city was never quiet. She paused.

“Stop,” she muttered, “Something’s wrong.” She scanned the streets, her eyes landing on a man with a gun ten feet away. It was a pistol, a small thing. He was standing on top of a taxi, stopping traffic. The cab’s door was open with other cars frozen in the streets. He was waving the firearm wildly. From what she could see, he was a high elf. She grabbed Alexander’s wrist. “Alexander, no. You can’t.”

“I have to,” Alexander muttered,  “You know I do. It’ll be okay.”

“Please, don’t get hurt.” He kissed her temple, before walking into the street.

“Hey!” he said, “Put the gun down, man, there’s no need for anyone to get hurt.”

“Who are you?” The elf asked, pointing the gun at Alexander’s chest. “Are you a cop?”

“I’m not a cop,” Alexander said, “I’m just here to help, okay? Nobody here needs to get hurt, just put the gun down. Trust me, you don’t want to hurt anyone.” The man was shaking, Eliza honestly had never seen an elf so dishevelled. His eyes were crazed as he held onto the pistol tightly.

“You have no idea what I want,” the elf muttered, “My family is dead, and- and it’s their fault!” He pointed wildly at a car in the street. Eliza watched as Alexander glanced at the car. “You!” he said, yelling at the car. “Get out!”

A half-orc stumbled out of the car, his hands raised up in the air.

“Please, don’t hurt me,” he said, “I was just doing my job.” The elf pointed the gun at the half-orc. The elf kept going in between the two men, holding the gun shakily.

“I’m sure this is a misunderstanding,” Alexander said, “Listen, I’m a lawyer, or rather I went to law school, and trust me when I say you’re going to do a lot more time if you hurt someone. Now, please, put the gun down.” As he spoke he walked closer to the elf, his hands in front of his body. Eliza balled her hands up in a fist tightly, digging her nails into her palm. She took a  deep breath. The gunmen pointed the pistol at the half-orc.

“Don’t tell me what to do!” the elf said, “God, I’m so fucking sick of people telling me what to do!” A gunshot rang through the street, Eliza’s heart dropping to the bottom of her stomach. Alexander’s wings were out in a second, flying him in front of the gunshot, intercepting it before it could hit the civilian.

Chapter Text

John sighed, steaming some milk. Ever since Aaron had quit a couple of days ago, John had been working twice as hard to satisfy the new influx of customers. He had taken the front of the house, while Lafayette worked in the back baking. John sighed, placing the mug on the end of the counter. A vampire nodded, thanking him as he grabbed the mug. He sighed, leaning against the counter. Finally, the line was finished.

The cafe was relatively busy, but not so much so that it was surprising.

“John, have you seen the news?” Lafayette asked, walking up behind him. He brought out a new tray of muffins, putting them in the display case. There was a TV in the backroom, normally Lafayette kept it on the local news while they worked. They both would catch glimpses of different reports while they walked in between the front and back of the house.

“No, why?” he asked, “I’ve been working out here. Is it something big?”

“There was a shooting in the Upper East Side,” Lafayette said. John frowned.

“Were there any casualties?” John asked.

“Not yet,” Lafayette, “One person was shot, it didn’t say who. There was only one gunshot though. After he shot, a pedestrian took him down. That’s all I caught before I came out here.”

“That’s awful,” John said, “Uh, is it okay if I head to the back for a second?”

“Sure,” Lafayette said, “I can handle the front for a little. Just, ah, take this tray back for me?” John nodded, grabbing the empty metal tray from Lafayette. He walked through the back door and placed the dirty tray with the rest of the dishes. He glanced at the TV, the news still playing quietly. An ambulance was on the screen, police and other emergency personnel decorating the scene. John hummed leaning on the table. The scene changed to a different angle of the scene, a tabaxi woman standing with a microphone in hand.

“We have spoken with several EMTs that there was only one person injured in the gunfight this afternoon. His condition is unknown, but the victim has been identified as Senator Washington’s new chief of staff, Alexander Hamilton.” A photo of Alexander’s smiling face appeared on the screen. It was fairly recent, Alexander standing at Senator’s Washington’s side in a recent public appearance. John’s heart dropped in his stomach. He scrambled for the remote, turning up the volume quickly. 

The scene changed once more, a shaky video of the gunfight. The tabaxi women’s voice played as a voiceover, accompanying the horrifying scene.

“Here we have a pedestrian’s video of the gunfight,” she said, “The shooter has been identified as high elf John André. André is the son of wealthy wall street investor Antoine André. His wife and child were killed in a car accident early last month. It was a tragic collision after they were t-boned by Benedict Arnold, a half-orc truck driver.” On the screen, the elf, André, was pointing the gun wildly, stepping out of a taxi and onto the roof.

“André was reportedly in a taxi when he spotted Arnold in the car next to him,” said the reporter, “He stepped out of the car and climbed onto the roof, pulling out a pistol. It was when he began shouting that the victim stepped on the scene.”

John watched in horror as Alexander stepped into traffic, approaching the man carefully. His wings and halo were hidden, his hands held high in the air in a non-threatening fashion.

“Witnesses say that Hamilton attempted to calm down and convince André to put down his weapon,” the reporter continued, “Unfortunately, this was unsuccessful.” The scene changed back towards the tabaxi reporter. “We will return with more details soon. Back to you Oliver.” John grabbed the remote, muting the TV. In shocked silence, he stepped out of the back and walked to Lafayette.

The fairy was working at the cash, counting the money they’d earned so far today.

“Lafayette,” he muttered, poking his friend’s shoulder.

“Qu’est qui se passe?” Lafayette asked, keeping his gaze steady firmly on the cash, “I am a little preoccupied Laurens.”

“It’s Alexander,” he said, “Alexander was the victim at the shooting in the Upper East Side.” Lafayette froze, the change in his hand slipping to his fingers.

“Are you sure?” he asked. John nodded.

“They mentioned him by name in the updated report,” he said. “And a picture. It’s him, Lafayette.”

“Have you texted or called him?” Lafayette asked.

“Laf, the man’s been shot,” John said, “He’s probably in the hospital, there isn’t a chance he has his phone with him.”

“Eliza?” he tried.

“I don’t have her number.”

“I do,” Lafayette said, reaching for his phone, “Here-”

“Do you think that’s a good idea?” John asked, “If she knows, which she probably does, she’s definitely busy, too busy to be able to tend to us.” Lafayette sighed, slipping his phone back in the pocket of his apron.

“You are right,” he said.

“Of course I am,” Lafayette said, “Alexander is working for Washington, yes? That man is one of the most powerful in the state. If Alexander is his chief of staff he will be given the best healthcare possible. He will be helped.”

“You’re right,” John sighed, “I just can’t help but worry.”

“And that’s okay, it’s natural,” Lafayette said, “He is ton amour, oui? It’s obvious that you’d be worried.”

“He is not my love,” John said, rolling his eyes, “We’ve met like, twice.”

“And slept at his house one of those times.”

“So did you,” John shot back, “And it wasn’t even Alexander’s house, it was Eliza’s.”

“Even better,” Lafayette said, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively, “One for two.”

“You’re impossible,” John said, rolling his eyes.

“I prefer insistence,” Lafayette said. The café’s front door jingled signalling a new customer. It was a woman, with big curly hair and light skin. She frowned, looking down at her phone.

“I got this one,” John said, nudging Lafayette. His friend nodded, disappearing into the back of the cafe. He walked up to the register, smiling.

“Hi, how can I help you today?”

“Hi, yeah,” she squinted at the small screen in her hand. He guessed that she was an intern, maybe a secretary and had been chosen for the daily coffee run. Unlucky. “Can I get a medium caramel latte with extra caramel, whip cream and shavings?”

“Sure,” John said, grabbing a cup, “Can I get a temperature for that one?”

“Iced please.”

“Uh, are you gonna want different names for these cups?” John asked.

“Yes, actually that would help a lot, thank you,” she said, nodding thankfully, “Thomas for that one.” John hummed, scribbling the ridiculous order.

“Okay, so the next one is an herbal tea, whichever one is your most popular, a medium for that one as well.”

“Temperature?”

“Warm, uh, this one is for a human, so not too hot. That one’s for James.”

“Gotcha.”

“And then a medium coffee with one cream, one sugar, hot, for George. That’s it.”

“Nice,” John hummed, “That will be twelve for the three of them.” The woman said nothing, pulling out a card. John passed the machine. “This isn’t normally your job, is it?”

“No,” she admitted, “There was… a situation at the office this afternoon. Our normal coffee interns are in over their heads right now with work, so the boss sent me out instead.”

“Well, I hope your work situation goes back to normal soon,” John said, starting on the coffees.

“Me too,” the woman agreed, “The General needs his chief of staff, I mean everyone needs the chief of staff, right?” She blushed and stopped talking. “I don’t mean to burden you with my problems.”

“No, no it’s fine,” John said, “But, ah, did you say chief of staff?”

“Yeah,” the woman sighed, “The guy’s only been with Washington for a little bit but he’s already changed the way the office works. Washington’s just trying to get everything under control.”

“You work for Washington?” John said, forgetting about the coffee.

“Oh, you saw the news?” the woman guessed, “Yeah, it’s a bit of a mess right now.”

“No! That’s not what I meant,” John said, “Well, I did see the news, but I know him, the chief of staff. Alexander Hamilton, right?”

“Yes, Mister Hamilton,” the woman said, nodding.

“Do you know if he’s okay?” John asked. The woman shrugged.

“I don’t, I’m sorry,” she said, “I’m just the secretary, but I do know that the General is attending to him. It’s why the interns have been so busy.”

“Ah, well, I hope he’s okay is all,” John said, looking back down at the coffee.

“I do too,” the woman agreed, “He’s a good guy. I’m Maria, by the way.”

“John.”

“I know,” she said, shrugging. He looked at her in confusion. “Your name tag.”

“Right,” he said, passing the coffees over the counter, placing them into a tray and grabbing a teabag. “Makes sense.” He passed the tea over the counter. “There you go. Have a nice day Maria. Hopefully, everything sorts itself out.”

“Right,” she said, grabbing the tray, “Thanks, John.” He shrugged. She smiled before walking out of the cafe quickly. He sighed, leaning on the counter. Lafayette walked out of the back of the cafe, a new piping hot tray of croissants in hand.

“Out of my way!” he announced, “Hot croissants!” John sighed moving slightly to the left, giving Lafayette access to the display case.

“Smells good Laf,” he said.

“Thank you mon ami,” he said, smiling, “I have been slaving away on these little things all morning.”

“I know, believe me,” John said, rolling his eyes, “You’ve mentioned it.”

“Have I?” Lafayette asked, “I don’t think I have.” John laughed, looking out the café window. “Is something wrong mon ami?” Lafayette frowned at him, placing the last of the croissants in an organized line.

“Nothings wrong,” he said, shrugging, “A woman, the customer, she worked for Washington. I asked her about Alexander?”

“And?” Lafayette asked expectantly, “Anything?” John shook his head.

“She didn’t know anything, just that Washington like you said, has been getting everything under control.”

“As I thought,” Lafayette said, “I trust Washington, he is a good man.”

“And how would you know that?” John asked, furrowing his eyebrows.

“I have a mysterious past,” Lafayette said elusively, “You know this John.”

“I mean, have you met Washington?” John asked, “How would you know if he’s a good man? He’s a politician.”

“Despite what you think not all politicians are bad,” Lafayette said, rolling his eyes, “And, yes, I have met him.”

“You’ve been holding back on me,” John said, “You owe me that story Lafayette.”

“Another time,” his friend said, waving him off, “For now, we have more coffees to make.” He pointed at the forming line of teenagers, who must’ve just gotten off of school. John sighed.

“Right.”