Alexandra Hamilton

What'd I Miss

Burr's POV

1789

How does the bastard, orphan, immigrant, decorated war vet unite the colonies through more debt? Fight all of the founding fathers 'til she has to forfeit. Have it all, lose it all. You ready for more yet?

She's treasury secretary. Washington's the president. Every American experiment sets a precedent. Not so fast! Someone came along to resist her. Pissed her off until we had a two party system.

You haven't met him yet. You haven't had the chance, 'cause he's been kicking ass as the ambassador to France. But someone's gotta keep the American promise. You simply must meet Thomas! Thomas....

Jefferson's POV

As the day breaks, land comes into view. It's the glorious country I call home. I like to imagine a chorus singing, "Thomas Jefferson's coming home. Thomas Jefferson's coming home."

As I step off of the ship I hear whispers like, "Lord, he's been off in Paris for so long." God, it feels good to be back. Everything feels right. France is following us to revolution. There is no more status quo, but the sun comes up and the world still spins. I helped Lafayette draft a declaration, then I said, "I gotta go. I gotta be in Monticello." Now the work at home begins. And I'm eager to get back to work.

With a skip in my step, I wonder, So what did I miss? What did I miss? Virginia, my home sweet home, I wanna give you a kiss. I've been in Paris meeting lots of different ladies. I guess I basically missed the late '80s. I traveled the wide, wide world and came back to this. A liberated land.

When I return to my estate I'm told that there's a letter on my desk from the president. I haven't even put my bag down yet. I call to my nearest slave, "Sally, be a lamb, darling. Won't you open it!" She opens the envelope and gives me the paper when I hold my hand out. I scan over the letter. It says the president's assembling a cabinet and that I am to be the Secretary of State — great — and that I'm already senate approved. I just got home and now I'm heading up to New York. I immediately arrange for my luggage to be loaded into a carriage and I depart for the city.

Looking at the rolling fields, I can't believe that we are free. I'm ready to face whatever's awaiting me in NYC. But who's waiting for me when I step in the place? My friend James Madison, red in the face. He grabs my arm and I respond, "What's going on?"

In a hushed voice, Madison explains to me, "Thomas, we are engaged in a battle for our nation's very soul. Can you get us out of the mess we're in?" I don't really know what he expects me to do. "Hamilton's new financial plan is nothing less than government control. I've been fighting for the south alone. Where have you been?"

"Uh... France...?"

I don't know if it's his illness or if he's annoyed with me, but his face drops and he looks at me with exhausted and possibly judgmental eyes. He sighs and shakes his head. "We have to win."

"What did I miss?" I ask him, still carefree. He hasn't given me a valid reason to be worried. "What did I miss?" I've come home to this? Headfirst into a political abyss. I have my first cabinet meeting today. I guess I'd better think of something to say. Madison is still worried, but I've got this. I'm already on my way to get to the bottom of this.

I walk into the room with impeccable posture and the president greets me cheerfully. "Mr. Jefferson, welcome home." He makes a move to shake my hand, but is nudged aside by a much smaller figure.

"Mr. Jefferson! Alexandra Hamilton." An attractive young woman curtsies in front of me and I shoot a confused glance at Madison, who shrugs. It takes me a minute to connect the dots, but my mind is blown when I reach a conclusion. This is the Hamilton whom Madison was telling me about. Washington chose some little girl to serve in his cabinet, she has a plan to tax the states, and now she's in front of me with a fake and cheeky grin as if she belongs here among us men of business and politics. How undistinguished.

I don't bother bowing to her. Instead I greet the many councilmen who have been awaiting my return. They bombard me with handshakes and flatter me with more, "Mr. Jefferson, welcome home!" After a good half hour of hearing, "Mr. Jefferson, welcome home. Sir, you've been off in Paris for so long," I break away from everyone as the meeting is about to commence. So what did I miss? Turns out, a whole lot.