Falling Through Time: Basking in Firelight: Book 2

Familiar Setting

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Warnings: None

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Nightmares still plagued Hamilton nightly. He was sure he'd be troubled by them every night for the rest of his life. They came less often when he slept with Jefferson, but didn't seem like it was ever going to happen again. At least until they were out of the presidency. Lately, he dealt with them by going to his office and working or walking through the halls. But now that they moved, he worked in his and Jefferson's office instead, by candlelight. He just enjoyed it more to the overbearing lights of the office. Sometimes it was nice for the only light to be provided by a flickering flame. Call him old-fashioned.

Imagine his surprise when Jefferson walked in, rubbing his face tiredly, shaking off his own nightmare. "Thomas?"

Jefferson froze and slowly looked up at Hamilton who was sitting at his desk, quill in hand. It must've looked like they were from the 1700's. "Alexander? What're you doing still up?"

"I imagine the same thing you're doing," he replied, setting down his quill.

Jefferson looked at him for a moment and then nodded his head toward the wall, "Follow me." Hamilton got up and followed Jefferson as he led them into Hamilton's room. Hamilton was getting very suspicious. Jefferson walked over to Hamilton's bed and looked at it for a second.

"Thomas, what're-"

Jefferson reached down toward Hamilton's nightstand. Click. A small door swung open in Hamilton's wall. "Come on," Jefferson said, waving Hamilton to follow as he stepped into the darkness of the passageway. Hamilton ran back to the office, grabbed his candle and followed Jefferson, the door shutting behind them. Jefferson took them down a winding passageway that opened up into a dark room. Hamilton couldn't see anything beyond the candle's small circle of light. Jefferson stole the candle from Hamilton's hand and started lighting other candles throughout the room. "This is a secret room only accessible to you and me," he explained. "I designed it to look like the 1700's, I figured it'd put us more at ease on nights like this." Hamilton studied the surroundings as they slowly became more clear with each candle Jefferson lit. "There's a fireplace and stuff to make tea. Plenty of books. There's also a couple of spare instruments in the corner. I tried to put everything I could think of that might help soothe nightmares."

Jefferson set down the candlestick having finished lighting each candle. The room now glowed with a soft light. There was a couch and a couple of chairs, bookshelves lined the walls, everything looked cozy and comforting. "Think it'll do?" Jefferson asked?

"It's amazing. How'd you think of all this?" Hamilton asked.

Jefferson shrugged. "It just seemed like something that would be needed. I'll put on some tea," Jefferson said, walking over to a shelf that jutted from the wall that was stacked with different types of tea and a kettle. Hamilton sank down onto the couch. This was nice. Really nice. Jefferson returned with a couple of cups of steaming tea and handed one off to Hamilton before sinking into a plush chair. A calm silence settled over the room.

"You know," Hamilton said softly, taking a drink of his tea, "we haven't done this since before the end of the war."

"Before I lost my memories?"

"Yeah..."

"We used to do this often?"

"All the time. Before we even recovered our past memories. After we got kidnapped, you'd always be here, with an extra cup of tea for me if I emerged, suffering from similar nightmares."

"Huh. I had no idea."

"Most nights we sat in silence, just enjoying the fact that we weren't alone. Then one night, we talked about it. Not much, just shared a couple of things we saw."

"Alexander?"

"Yeah?"

"Shut up."

***

Burr was running around to every office in the entire Manor, delivering the various papers piled high in his hands to cabinet members from the latest Congressional vote. Not only that, but he was always rushing down to Congress to actually take part in the voting in case there was a tie. Usually, there wasn't, so he'd do some paperwork instead. Madison, Angelica, and Adams were right there with him, just in their own sections of the government. Everyone in the executive branch was constantly running around or scribbling out hurried documents for approval. Cabinet members argued and proposed plans to Hamilton and Jefferson who in turn argued over them. It was their routine. It became normal for Hamilton to walk into the office he had left moments before to retrieve two cups of coffee and return to a passed out Jefferson. Hamilton would have to wake him and send him off to bed. Whenever Jefferson walked in on a passed out Hamilton, he just scooped him up and carried him through the wall to his bed before retiring to his own.

That all changed in the blink of an eye.

Jefferson and Hamilton were walking down the hallway, a fresh stack of papers in their arms, discussing the progress of the infrastructure. Jefferson shouldered open their office door and stopped dead, papers spilling from his hands onto the floor. "Jefferson, what the hell?" Hamilton asked, pushing his way into the room.

"Tut tut, making such a mess. Is that how a president should act?" King George asked, sitting behind Jefferson's desk, his feet propped up on the wood as he leaned back and popped cherries into his mouth.

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