Chapter 25

That winter was a particularly severe season, Thomas and James spent many afternoons sitting by the fire in James's apartment, getting through their paperwork between a shiver and a cup of hot tea. By January's end, thick snow had covered the whole city, and while children waited for the morning only to dress up and go play into the whitened gardens and streets, the grown-ups were glad to finally find themselves under their heavy blankets, trying not to think about the following morning. The air was dry and it snowed for days, with very short breaks in between the choreography of the snowflakes that danced on the roofs of the city.

"It's fucking freezing!" Alexander shouted for the third time while going to work that morning. "I could've just worked from home today."

"Come on, we'll get warm once we'll get in." Burr smiled at his friend's bad mood. "I thought you liked the snow."

"I liked it because I usually got to play with my children." Alexander sounded sad, he was missing his family very much. "But I really hate the cold! I'll freeze to death, Aaron, I can feel it!"

"Don't you think you're exaggerating just a little bit?" Burr laughed and patted him on the back. "Come on, let's run the last mile, so we'll warm up a bit."

"What? Are you serious – hey, wait!"

Alexander began to run to keep up with Burr, who actually was way more athletic than how he appeared.

"I was thinking to organize something for Valentine's day," Aaron said nonchalantly after a couple of minutes.

"Like what?" Alexander couldn't manage more than that, cause he was already panting; the icy air was literally hurting his lungs, but he was getting warmer so he didn't complain.

"What about a dance? We can try to organize something in the presidential house," he proposed. "I don't think my house or your apartment could do with more than five guests."

"Will it be okay for Adams?"

"He's in Quincy again. I guess we could ask Jefferson."

"You can ask him, I'd have no chance to convince him."

"I'll try then." Aaron smiled at him. "Hey, watch out, the street is completely frozen here –

Burr hadn't even finished the sentence yet, when he suddenly lost his balance on the ice-covered street. He tried not to slip by twirling his arms, and closed his eyes to prepare for the fall, but Hamilton's arms reached for him within a second and he found himself in Alexander's grip, his face really close to his friend's. He blinked a couple of times and saw Alexander's face grow redder; but before even realising it, Hamilton had already moved some feet away from him.

"Thank you," Burr muttered, quite embarrassed.

"It's nothing, I'm always tripping up too." Alexander shrugged, still blushing, and pointed at the door. "Shall we?"

They entered the house and finally got to work, comfortably sitting in front of Adams's fireplace.

It was really nice to work in there lately, since most of the staff either worked from home or haven't even returned to the capital yet, and so Alexander and Aaron preferred to seek each other's company at work instead of staying at home alone. But that day they weren't destined to work peacefully, since, after about an hour they'd got there, Burr's door opened again and Jefferson and Madison rushed in, rubbing their frozen hands to get warm.

"G'morning Burr, today we should absolutely discuss how to –

Madison cleared his throat and nodded at Thomas, warning him with a knowing look. Thomas followed James's gaze and spotted Hamilton, who had moved away from the fireplace and was working on McHenry's desk. As their eyes met, Alexander snorted and tensed up. Here comes Jefferson's telling-off – he thought – that I'm no longer part of the Cabinet and can't stay here.

"Mr Hamilton, I didn't see you there!" Jefferson moved closer to his desk and cast him one of his heart-shattering smiles. "But I somehow sensed an annoying presence as soon as I walked in – now I know it was you!"

"Don't worry, whatever presence you sensed in the room, it has already been replaced by your complete lack of style," he retorted with a smile. Why was he smiling? He should ignore and avoid Jefferson, but instead he welcomed their ancient bickering as if they were finally back to normal.

Jefferson scribbled something on a piece of paper and winked before turning away from him, walking towards Burr again.

"It was nice as always chatting with you, Hamilton, but now let the grown-ups talk, would you?"

"Go fuck yourself, would you?"

"Burr, let's go talk in my office." Thomas ignored Alexander's suggestion and went away without another word.

"Thomas, what are you doing?" Madison whispered to him as soon as they stepped outside the office. "I thought you wanted him to fall in love with you again, rather than punch you."

"Trust me, I know what I'm doing." Thomas grinned and lead the way to his room.

Burr collected some documents and was about to follow them, when he suddenly stopped on the doorstep and looked back at Hamilton. He was looking at the desk with his mouth open and an unreadable expression on his face.

"Alexander, are you all right?"

"Oh, I – yeah, sorry." Alex forced himself to close his mouth and smiled shyly. "I just noticed a spelling error on a document," he lied.

Burr smiled back and left the room, leaving him alone. As soon as Aaron's figure disappeared, Alexander crumpled a piece of paper and stuffed it into his pocket. He tried to resume his work but was distracted by the thought of Thomas – what did his behaviour mean? Did it mean that he was ready to be enemies again? That he didn't care to be forgiven by Alexander anymore?

He went back to work and noticed that a page from one of the reports was missing. He looked everywhere but couldn't find it. Then, he hesitantly took the crumpled paper out of his pocket and swore – it was the thirteenth page of his report, the one that he would have to copy on another paper now. He looked at the bottom of the page. In Thomas's elegant handwriting, two words – hey beauty – had made that particular sheet one of the most precious things he had.

"Stupid Jefferson," he muttered, smiling nonetheless.

***

"The green suit?" James raised his eyebrows at Thomas. "I thought you hated green."

"Well, contrarily to you my friend, I like colours," Jefferson laughed, gesturing at Madison's black suit, "and I'm fabulous in any colour, thank you."

Madison laughed – coughing a bit after it – and searched his pockets for something; he then threw a tiny bag to Thomas, who caught it.

"What is it?"

"Dolley sent me cookies for Valentine's day, she packed some for you as well," James answered gleefully. "They're terrible by the way, she cooked them herself and you know what a bad cook my wife is," he added with fondness.

"You're a lucky man." Thomas looked at the bag – a small note wished him a happy Valentine's Day by Mrs Madison. He sighed, trying not to focus too much on his lack of any valentine.

"Are you ready, Narcissus?" Madison mocked, trying to drag him away from the mirror. "Come on, I assure you there's not a thing out of place in your outfit; Hamilton won't be able to take his eyes off you, but now we have to go!"

"All right, all right!" Jefferson cast another quick look to his reflection and followed his friend to the carriage.

When they arrived to the presidential house, there was already a short column of carriages waiting in front of the entrance; Thomas and James got off and walked inside, making their way through the small crowd of guests. They found a safe corner and Thomas went to grab two glasses of wine for him and James, leaving the latter to scan the room for friendly faces.

"Mr vice president," his favourite voice greeted him.

"Mr Hamilton, I didn't see you from up here," he teased, knowing that Alexander hated when someone pointed out his height. "Nice dress by the way, I thought Halloween was in October."

"Not everyone can spend all his money on clothes, Jefferson," Hamilton retorted. "I, for example, use my money to pay my employees."

"Touché," Thomas sighed and passed him a glass of wine. "Let's have a drink, this wine's from Burgundy, you'll like it."

"Don't talk as if you knew me, Jefferson." Alexander narrowed his eyes and refused the wine, giving the glass back to Thomas.

"But I do know you," Thomas hummed cockily. "You didn't change as much as you like to think."

"Yeah, neither did you, that's the problem," Alexander hissed, and went away.

Thomas stood there, a bit troubled by Hamilton's hostile answer; his dark eyes followed the other man as he walked to the other side of the room. Hamilton marched directly towards Burr and Thomas grinned, waiting for Alexander to unload all his anger on poor Aaron as usual. But when Alexander approached him, Burr smiled and asked him something in a friendly way. And then, Alex laughed. He laughed as if nothing had happened.

"What the hell is happening here?" Thomas murmured to himself, confused by the scene, and hurried back to Madison.

James immediately guessed that something wasn't right with Thomas, but a small group of people had already gathered around him, and so he limited himself to cast a questioning look to his friend, who softly shook his head and started chatting about the weather with Monroe.

Later that night, James dropped on a chair, breathless after a long hour of dancing, and searched the room for his friend. Thomas was dancing with an attractive blonde woman, whose attentions were all focused on her partner, while he was continuously looking to a distant corner of the room. James followed his gaze and saw Hamilton, who was cheerfully talking with Burr and a couple of ladies; he was probably telling them one of his engaging tales, because he was gesticulating a lot, while his audience was completely absorbed by his every word. After some moments, they all burst into laughter and Hamilton friendly patted on Burr's shoulder; then, while the rest of the company departed, Burr placed his hand on Alexander's and kept it there for a moment too long, cocking his head in a – was flirtatious the right word? – way.

Madison looked back at Thomas, who had almost stopped dancing and was staring at them with a shocked and hurt face. He excused himself and rudely left the blonde lady alone mid-song.

"Thomas," James called him calmly.

"James, what the fuck is happening between Burr and Hamilton?"

"I don't know, but I don't like it. Do you think Burr wants to change party again?"

Thomas looked back at the two men, who were now toasting to something that must have been absolutely hilarious, since they were doubling up with laughter; jealousy suddenly seized him and he understood why Alexander had once wanted so hard to punch Burr in the gut.

"Have I ever told you that it was Burr who suggested me to publish the check stubs, last August?"

"You haven't." James sounded worried. "Then, why befriend him if he wanted to destroy him?"

"I think you already have the answer."

"Well, I think you're being jealous and maybe you're exaggerating a bit."

"I have to talk to Hamilton."

Thomas left, ignoring James's attempt to stop him, and headed to the corner where the two men were drinking. Alexander cast him a concerned look, as if he could read Thomas's jealousy in his eyes and was worried that he'd start a fight or something. Burr's face was unreadable as usual, and he smiled politely at Jefferson.

"Burr, Madison wants to talk with you," Thomas lied, feeling a little guilty for James. "It's urgent."

"Oh – all right." Burr looked hesitantly at Alexander. "I'll be right back."

As Burr went away, Thomas turned back to Hamilton, who was frowning at him.

"What?"

"What does Madison want?"

"I don't know," Thomas shrugged. "Do you want to get some fresh air?"

"Thomas, it's freezing outside."

"Let's just go upstairs for a minute – please?"

"All right," Alexander surrendered, he was too curious to refuse anyway.

They went to Jefferson's office and Alexander hesitantly closed the door behind him, wondering what would people think if someone found them in that room alone at night. Nothing was going to happen anyway – he thought – so he didn't need to be so secretive.

"What do you want, Jefferson?"

"You don't have to pretend here, Alexander, it's just you and me," Thomas murmured quietly.

"I'm not pretending." Alexander leaned on the door, facing Jefferson with his usual provocative face. "You're the next Democratic-Republican candidate for presidency, and even though I'm not Secretary anymore, I'm still the head of the opposition. We're enemies again."

"Do you really despise me so much to loathe the thought of me as president?"

"You'd destroy everything I've done in the last ten years."

"I wouldn't," Thomas groaned, putting the topic aside to focus on the reason why he'd asked Alexander to talk. "Tell me then, if our parties are foes, why are you acting so friendly with Burr?"

"It's none of your fucking business, Mr Vice President."

"Alexander, please, I'm just worried about you."

"You didn't seem worried when you asked Aaron to publish the accusations, or to threaten me."

"What? I didn't asked him to – I just gave him the go-ahead, it was Burr who proposed the plan to me."

Alexander looked up at him doubtfully and remained silent for a minute, thinking.

"I don't believe you," he resolved.

"Fine, I know you don't trust me right now and you have all the rights to," Thomas raised his hands in surrender, "but can you at least listen to what I have to say?"

"Talk."

"I don't trust Burr and, if I remember correctly, you didn't either. He would be perfectly able to use you for his purposes and then get rid of you. Maybe he needs some information from the Federalists, or he's using you to gain more power in view of the elections, or –

"Or maybe we're friends!" Alexander's voice was shaking with anger. "Is this your next move? You accused my integrity and took away my family, and now you want set me against my only friend left?"

"Ok now that's enough!" Thomas burst out. "I may have agreed to publish the accusations, but it wasn't me who forced you to cheat on your wife with James Reynold, so now stop acting as if the whole world is your enemy and start taking your rightful share of responsibility."

Alexander stared at him with his arms crossed and a heavy frown on his face; he opened his mouth as if he wanted to argue with him, but then closed it again and smiled.

"Shit, I think you're right."

"Wait – what? Fuck, you can't say such things when there are no witnesses, no one will ever believe me!" Thomas hazarded a joke, and moved closer to him. "Alexander, I'm really sorry for what I've done and I'll never forgive myself for it, but... I really hope that someday you will."

"Thomas, I –

"Please be careful with Burr, I don't want you to get hurt." He was very close now; he placed one hand on the door where Alexander was leaning, while the other moved to caress his hair. "My sweet, sweet Alexander."

Hamilton was almost bewitched by the twist – if all he needed in order to get Thomas's attentions was to admit that he was right, he should definitely agree with him more. He felt Thomas's warm breath on his face, too close, too tempting; his lips were inches away –

"Eliza knows about us!" Alexander panicked and sputtered the first thing he could think of.

"WHAT?"

"Er, she asked me if I'd only cheated on her with Maria, and I may have confessed everything to her." Alexander looked at the floor, the pain of that memory still vivid in his mind.

Thomas immediately drew back and started pacing back and forth, running his hands through his hair, messing them up.

"Shit, Alexander, when did you tell her? How much time do we have before she –

"Relax, Thomas, she promised not to tell," Alexander said with fondness. "Also –" he hesitated.

"Also what?" Jefferson stopped in front of him again, his dark eyes searching for answers.

"S-she told me I'm free to love whomever I want to."

Thomas stretched one arm, as if to touch Alexander's face again, but then he stopped mid-air and finally retreated it. He suddenly seemed scared of something.

"Are you telling me this now," he began with a low voice, "because you think you're in love with Burr?"

"What?" Alexander looked at him shocked. "Oh my god, Jefferson, are you jealous?"

"Are you in love with him?"

"He's just a friend!" Alexander was about to lose his temper for the second time in a row. "And even if I were, you wouldn't have a say in it."

"Of course," Thomas looked at him with his icy gaze – how could hazel eyes be so cold? – and turned away from him.

"Well, I have to go back to –

"If you didn't want to stay with me anymore, why did you tell your wife about us?" Thomas hissed through his gritted teeth, still turning his back to him.

"She already knew it," Alexander answered softly, drawing something out of his pocket. "She found this."

Thomas faced Alexander to look at the object: it was his handkerchief, the one he'd given to Alexander on Christmas. He was suddenly filled with sweet, happy memories, and smiled slightly.

"Can I ask you one last question?"

"Shoot."

"Did you plan to have this conversation with me tonight?"

"Not really. Why?"

"I was just wondering why you brought my handkerchief with you if you weren't going to return it." Thomas grinned maliciously.

Alexander's gaze wandered from the handkerchief to Thomas, and back to his own hands. In the end, he simply snorted and staffed the item back into his pocket, opening the door.

"Shut up, Jefferson." He cast an annoyed look back and went away, ignoring Thomas's laughter.