"You're lucky it was me who saw you, I'm probably the only person in this city who isn't out to end your career." Alexander sat teary eyed at his desk; letters clutched in his trembling hands begging you for a path out of his predicament.

"I can't help you; Washington isn't here to get you out of this either so you're going to have to dig yourself out of this hole solo." Papers cascaded onto his desk, some letters from a Mr. James Reynolds and others cheque stubs to the same recipient, all regarding his wife or as of late, Alex's mistress.

"If this gets out my life is over. Jefferson won't hesitate to plaster my face over the newspapers without even considering all the information at hand. I'll be branded a charlatan, kicked out of office and my legacy will turn to nothing but dust."

"Oh, you'll have a legacy alright. I can see the students now all learning about Alexander Hamilton, screwed up over thirty years of some of the hardest work this continent has ever seen for someone to sleep with." He extended from his seat and pressed his finger firmly into your chest.

"It wasn't like that."

"You fell into her?"

"She tricked me..."

"Alex, you've got kids you know how it works."

"I don't have time to argue about this." He retreated back to his chair and began organising his scattered notes and records.

"It just occurred to me that not once have you mentioned Eliza here... you don't think this is going to affect her? You've got to tell her."

"She may be wife but she wouldn't hesitate to run to the press... I tell her I might as well tell the whole nation myself." You could almost see the idea formulating in his mind as a dripping quill met with a fresh sheet of parchment.

"Whoa whoa, what are you doing?"

"If I go to the press before Eliza, before Jefferson I can explain what really happened, how I was led astray and then exploited by a pair of predatorial lowlifes."

"Now? Now you decide to listen to me." You tried to snatch the ink stained paper from him, but he smacked your hand away and furiously wrote as if his entire existence depended on it. A few final strokes of the quill and he stared upon his newest publishing with a warped view of dread and glee.

~*~
Written by Aaron.