The Lion And His Lioness

His Second Affair

The Lion And His Lioness -- A Hamilton Fanfiction
Chapter 30 - His Second Affair

Alexander
I had been working for a while now. After what my father-in-law had said, that I would lose my job if I didn't get this plan through congress, I put my whole life into it. I had to, I just had to get this right. I couldn't allow my family to live like I had for so long, I never would. I sighed, glancing at the letter I needed to write to Angelica before the end of the week. I best get writing.

My dearest, Angelica
"Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow creeps in this petty pace from day to day". I trust you'll understand the reference to another Scottish tragedy without my having to name the play. They think me Macbeth, and ambition is my folly. I'm a polymath, a pain in the ass, a massive pain. Madison is Banquo, Jefferson's Macduff, and Birnam Wood is Congress on its way to Dunsinane.

And there you are an ocean away, do you have to live an ocean away? Thoughts of you subside, then I get another letter and I cannot put the notion away... I cannot wait to see you again after this two year break, My dear Sister. Until then, Sister.
~A.Hamilton

That'll do, I thought to myself as I put the letter in an envelope and wrote 'Angelica S Church, London, England' on the envelope itself with a soft smile, glancing out of the window in my office. "Take a break," Rena told me when she entered my office, a smile on her face.

"I am on my way," I replied, continuing to write on my plan.

"There's a little surprise before supper and it cannot wait."

"I'll be there in just a minute, save my plate," I told her, turning my back to her to grab a book off the shelf that may be able to aid me with this task the President had set me.

"Alexander-"

I sighed, placing the book on my desk and giving my wife my full attention. "Okay, okay-"

"Your son is nine years old today and he has something that he'd like to say," Rena told me, leading me downstairs to where Philip sat at the piano. "He's been practicing all day. Philip," Rena turned to our now nine-year-old son, "Take it away."

Philip stood up from the piano and stood by the stool as Rena started to 'beat box', as she and Lafayette call it. I honestly don't understand those two. Then again, I don't think I ever will.

"Daddy, daddy, look! My name is Philip, I am a poet and I wrote this poem just to show it and I just turend nine. You can write rhymes but you can't write mine."

"What!" I exclaimed, pride filling me as I watched my nine-year-old little boy rap like his godfather did when we had some times off during the war. He was going to be my little prodigy, definitely.

"I practice French and play piano with my mother,"

"Uh-huh!"

"I have a sister, but I want a little brother,"

"Okay!" I said, looking at Rena who gave me a look. I chuckled and turned my attention back to Philip, a smile on my face.

"My daddy's trying to start America's bank. Un deux trois quatre cinq!" Philip exclaimed, Rena finished her 'beat boxing' with a clap.

"Bravo!" I exclaimed in pride, hugging my son tightly before he received a hug from his mother and went with his little sister to the back garden where the two talked and hung out together.

"Take a break," Rena told me, the two of us sitting at the piano stool.

"Hey, our kid is pretty great!" I told her with a smile. Rena chuckled breathlessly, rolling her eyes.