The Place To Be: A Hamiton Fic

Chapter Twelve: Suspecting

It's plot time ;)

*****
John's POV

"I don't like him in this house." Eliza grumbled, peeking out the window from behind the thick curtains. "Yet somehow, him taking her out of it is kind of worse."

Eliza and I watched anxiously as Jefferson held open the car door for Peggy, giving her a big grin as he extended a helpful hand.

"I don't trust him." I muttered, narrowing my eyes.

Alex exhaled loudly. "You two are so overdramatic. They're literally getting breakfast. Nothing bad happens over breakfast."

"Do you think I'd be able to trail them if I was sneaky enough?" Eliza pondered.

"Leave her alone, Eliza. It's Peggy's first date. She might as well enjoy it." Alex shook his head and slowly lifted himself out of his huge chair by the sitting room fireplace. I watched him cautiously out the corner of my eye.

"Where do you think you're going?" I asked him teasingly, my voice straining to cover up my worry.

"The kitchen." Alex laughed warmly and rubbed his stomach. "I'm craving French toast. Also, I have a headache, and you know I can't take my medication on an empty stomach." He cast Eliza's his most pitiful little smile.

Eliza groaned and let the heavy curtain slip from her fingers, blocking our view of Jefferson's car rolling leisurely out of the driveway. "Fine." She followed him out to the kitchen. "I'll make your damn breakfast."

Alex slid his hand in mine and gave me a cheeky grin. Damn, everyone is just wrapped around his finger.

"Good morning, daddy." Eliza kissed her father on the cheek as she sauntered past his seat at the head of the breakfast table. Me and Alex took our seats on the bar stools at the kitchen island. Mr. Schuyler is possibly the most intimidating person in the world, and the thought of sitting near him almost made me lose my appetite. Key word is almost. Eliza has a killer French toast.

"Hello." He answered gruffly, eyes trained on the politics page of the newspaper. "Tell me, Elizabeth- who has Margarita gone out with just now."

Eliza tucked her dark hair behind her ears as she scanned the contents of the fridge. "Thomas Jefferson, daddy. He was in my class."

Mr. Schuyler nodded. "Yes, I know the Jeffersons. Respectable family. The boy is at college, I assume?"

Eliza tensed up. College is still a rough topic in the Schuyler household. It's been almost a year since Eliza dropped out, and Peggy's senior year was quickly coming to a close. Mr. Schuyler had overheard Peggy saying she wasn't sure if she even wanted to college and practically burnt the house down he got so angry.

"Yes,daddy." Eliza pulled the eggs out of the fridge and busied herself by spraying down the frying pan.

Mr. Schuyler pursed his lips. "That's alright, then. Any boy in college has to be decent enough." He paused. "You know, Elizabeth, you really should-"

"Daddy." Eliza's voice hardened as she slammed an egg angrily on the side of the frying pan. It splattered everywhere, bits of egg shells falling into the mixture. Alex slid his hand into mine and squeezed.

Mr. Schuyler put his paper down and sighed in exasperation. "I'm just saying , Elizabeth. There's no harm in going back. Angelica is almost done, she calls me all the time telling me how much of a breeze her education has been."

"I'm not my sister." Eliza said through gritted teeth.

"I'm not asking you to make any promises, I'm just asking for some effort here!" Mr. Schuyler picked up his newspaper and stormed off.

Eliza sighed and looked down at the mess she'd made in the frying pan. "There's egg shells in your French toast. I.... I'll have to start over."

"It's okay." Alex said softly.

It was our fault Eliza wasn't going back to school. I knew it, Alex knew it, Mr. Schuyler knew it. Eliza knew, too.

Alex wouldn't let go of my hand for a the whole day.

******
Aaron's POV

"Dear Theodosia, what to say to you." I sang under my breath, thumbing my guitar as quietly as I could so Thee wouldn't hear me through our thin apartment walls. The ring in my pocket pressed uncomfortably against my thigh, a heavy reminder of what I'd been putting off for months.

It's just a proposal.

Thee and I were basically married already. So what was the big deal? I was overthinking this....

No. Theodosia's perfect, so this proposal can't be anything less than. That's why I decided to write this song for her.

"Darling!" I heard Theodosia call me from he kitchen. Shit. Had she heard me rehearsing? Oh god, does she suspect I'm planning to propose?

"Coming!" I drop my guitar against the wall and trot into the main living space of our apartment. "What's up, Thee?" I pulled her into my embrace and plopped a kiss on her forehead.

Theodosia pushed me away. "Stop that, Aaron Burr. I just called you in here to ask what you wanted for dinner."

I pouted. "No kisses for me?"

She kissed my nose. "There. Good enough?"

I shook my head and pressed my hands to the side of her face, pulling Theodosia close to kiss her. She groaned, but kissed me back.

"Aaron." Thee pulled back. "Concentrate. I need to start on dinner."

"Can we have mac and cheese?" I begged.

Thee giggled. "I sure do love a man who keeps it simple. Sit at the table and keep me company, yeah?"

I took a seat at our little round table that was crammed into the corner of the main room of the apartment. One hand unconsciously rubbed across its surface, feeling all the cracks and grooves. I knew them like the back of my hand.

"So listen to this." Theodosia tied her hair back in a low bun as the pot of water simmered on the stove. "You remember that uncle of mine who's money ended up paying for my surgery?"

I dug my nails into the table top. Fuck. "Uhh....yeah. What about him?"

Theodosia slowly shook the noodles into the water. "Well, my mom signed up for one of those family history websites, and she was looking through our family tree. She doesn't even have a second cousin Leo!" Thee laughed and stirred the noodles. "She got this 'uncle' of mine mixed up with another distant cousin, I guess. Isn't that funny? We have no clue whose will we were even apart of!"

I forced a laugh. "Wow. That's...strange. Um. So, who sent you the money?"

Theodosia shrugged. "No clue. I don't really care, to be honest. Everything worked out in the end." Thee grinned at me. God, she was so beautiful.

I traced the grooves on the table. They were like pathways, like graphs, like roads. A big map of our time in this apartment. A dent in the corner where Thee's brother dropped a vase. The large scratch from the cat. A map.

This table's past was written so plainly on its surface. Thankfully, mine was not.

She can never find out what I did. Never.