Falling Through Time: Basking in Firelight: Book 2

Mind and Memories

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Looking forward to the day y'all start cussing me out.

Who remember's My-Dear-Hammy's Rules for Reading? What does something inbetween *   * mean?

A real quote from the historical character. Don't forget!

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Warnings: Lots of sexual innuendos 

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When Jefferson returned he looked more drained and haggard than when he had left. The front door clicked softly shut behind him as he entered, collapsing on the couch, his head in his hands. Hamilton immediately moved to rub his shoulders, trying to help him relax. "What is it, Thomas? Did something happen?"

Jefferson took a deep breath. "I can't keep any of it straight. In my head. It's all jumbled around in knots and everything is clashing into each other. I just can't make sense of it."

"Your memories?"

"I don't think the mind is meant to be able to remember growing up, living, dying, and doing it all over again."

"Just give it time, I'm sure it'll sort itself out. I can remember just fine, just give it some time." Hamilton worked at a knot in Jefferson's back.

"You're right," Jefferson sighed. "It's only been two days since everything came back. I just need to let it settle. Oooh, that feels good. Keep doing that."

Hamilton smiled slightly and kneaded with a little more pressure. Jefferson slowly relaxed beneath his fingertips. He lightly pressed a kiss to Jefferson's neck, slipping his arms around his waist. Jefferson's breathing was deep and rhythmed. He had fallen asleep. Hamilton pulled Jefferson further into the couch, pulling him down so that he lay comfortably tucked into Hamilton's arms. "Sleep well, mon coeur," Hamilton whispered.

***

"Thomas, I'm going to make a trip to town to pick up some supplies. We're running low on food," Hamilton announced, pulling on his armored layers and tucking his knives into their proper places.

"Give me a moment and I'll go with you," Jefferson said, getting up to grab his own set of armored clothes.

"No, no," Hamilton said hurriedly, stuffing his wallet in a pocket, "I got it."

"Don't be ridiculous. I'm going with you. What if you someone recognizes you and you get in trouble with a mob again? You'll need me to rescue your ass again."

"Now you're being ridiculous. You're by far more recognizable than me. And the two of us together will no doubt be noticed. It's better if I go by myself," Hamilton explained, heading for the door.

Jefferson crossed his arms, "Alright, fine. Go by yourself then. I'll just go take a long, hot bath all by myself. Maybe, see if I can find any of that shampoo you loved so much," Jefferson said, making his way upstairs, leaving Hamilton in the doorway.

That motherfucker. Hamilton set his jaw, "Okay, have fun with that, I'll be home in a few hours." He left, closing the door behind him with a click. Jefferson sighed from the top of the stairs, he was hoping Hamilton would take the bait.

He took his bath, which took a lot more work than he thought to set up, considering he had to bring in all the water bucket by bucket and heat it up in the fireplace. He even did manage to find some of that shampoo, and after a bit of rehydration treatment, it was still as good as he remembered.

After he finished, he didn't have much else to do. Hamilton still wasn't home and wouldn't be for a long time yet. Town was pretty far away. He didn't really have any idea about what to do. He supposed he could play his violin or read a book. He had plenty in the library he hadn't gotten a chance to read before he died, but it felt like that's all he did anymore. Read and play. Nothing else that had any real meaning. As happy as he would be to spend the rest of his life in domestic bliss, he needed a new hobby. He usually has so much to do, but now...