One Last Time
“Thomas, we’re in public,” Alexander laughs as Thomas presses him against a wall in his office, the door open.
Thomas hums against his neck. “Are you complaining, doll?”
Alexander hums. “Well, I never said that. Please, do continue, Mr. Secretary.”
Thomas snickers and is about to kiss Alexander again when the noise of someone clearing their throat cuts through the silence.
George stood in the doorway, incredibly unamused.
“Hey, your excellency, how’s it going?” Alexander jokes, attempting to ease the static atmosphere.
“I actually came to speak with the two of you. You just happened to be together. Lucky or not, I’ll let you decide,” George says, a tired twinkle in typically bright eyes.
“Mr. Washington, are you ok? You don’t look too good,” Thomas said, genuinely concerned.
George takes a step forward before swaying a little.
Thomas and Alexander both rush over to Washington as he almost falls over.
“Sorry, boys. Age affects everyone at one point or another,” Washington says, weakly chuckling.
Thomas sends a worried look to Alexander. Washington admitting his moment of weakness. It was about the same chance that Thomas would stop wearing magenta.
“I know you’re busy,” Washington said, laying back on the chair.
“What do you need, sir? Sir?” Alexander says, slightly panicking.
Washington paused and thought for a second. “I wanna give you a word of warning.”
“Sir, I don’t know what you heard but whatever it is, Jefferson started it,” Alexander said, the joke coming more meekly than he wanted.
“Thomas Jefferson has resigned this morning,” Washington said, looking at Thomas dead in the eye now.
Thomas was taken aback. He never resigned. What the fuck is Washington playing at?
Alexander frowned. “He’s been with me all morning, though.”
Washington turned, now addressing Thomas. “I need a favor.”
“Whatever you say, sir,” Thomas said with finality.
“I need you to draft an address,” Washington said wearily.
“Yes! He resigned. You can finally speak your mind,” Alexander teases, poking Thomas’s side.
But Thomas wasn’t stupid. He could see Alexander gazing at Washington through the corner of his eye.
“No, he’s stepping down so he can run for President,” Washington said.
Thomas’s. Jaw. Dropped. Right through the damn floor.
“What?” Alexander said, confused.
“I’m stepping down. I’m not running for President,” Washington said.
Thomas blinked. “I’m sorry, what?”
Washington smiled tiredly.
He takes them and pulls them into his office.
He pulls out a bottle of whiskey and the three sit down.
Washington pours the three of them a glass. “One last time. Relax, have a drink with me. One last time. Let’s take a break tonight and then we’ll teach them how to say goodbye.”
Hamilton felt confused. “No, sir, why?”
“I wanna talk about neutrality,” Washington said, ignoring Alexander.
Thomas shifts in his seat. “Sir, with Britain and France on the verge of war, is this the best time-”
Washington continues nonetheless. “I want to warn against partisan fighting.”
“But-” Alexander tried again.
“Pick up a pen, start writing. I wanna talk about what I have learned, the hard-won wisdom I have earned,” Washington reprimands gently.
Thomas does one more last ditch attempt. “As far as the people are concerned, you have to serve. You could continue to serve.”
Washington smiles warmly. “No. One last time. The people will hear from me one last time and if we get this right, we’re gonna teach them how to say goodbye.
Alexander didn’t let him speak for long. “Mr. President, they will say you’re weak.”
Washington shakes his head. “No, they will see we’re strong.”
Alexander is giving up and just grasping for excuses now. “Your position is so unique!”
“So I’ll use it to move them along,” Washington says gently.
“Why do you have to say goodbye?” Alexander asks.
Washington leans back, a nostalgic expression on his face. “If I say goodbye, the nation learns to move on. It outlives me when I’m gone. Like the scripture says: ‘Everyone shall sit under their own vine and fig tree and no one shall make them afraid.’ They’ll be safe in the nation we’ve made. I wanna sit under my own vine and fig tree. A moment alone in the shade. At home in this nation we’ve made. One last time.”
Alexander finally amends, shaking fingers grabbing his glass. “One last time,” he recites.
That evening, Washington had left for Virginia for good as Alexander started reading his departing letter.
Alexander clears his throat once before he starts. “Though, in reviewing the incidents of my administration, I am unconscious of intentional error. I am nevertheless too sensible of my defects not to think it probable that I may have committed many errors. I shall also carry with me the hope that my country will view them with indulgence and that after forty-five years of my life dedicated to its service with an upright zeal, the faults of incompetent abilities will be consigned oblivion, as I myself must soon be to the mansions of rest. I anticipate with pleasing expectation that retreat in which I promise myself to realize the sweet enjoyment of partaking, in the midst of my fellow-citizens, the benign influence of good laws. Under a free government, the ever-favorite object of my heart, and the happy reward, as I trust of our mutual cares, labors, and dangers.”
The council silently sits for a moment to remember the great man that now was resting at his home.
Thomas clears his throat causing everyone to look his way.
He smirks at the recognition and starts.
“After our dear president retired, I have decided I will be running for president against our very own, John Adams,” Thomas declares, faking his kind attitude towards the man.
People in the room already had a sneaking suspicion that Thomas hated Adams but the infliction on his voice was just the icing on the cake.
Adams crosses his arms but let’s out a very pained smile.
Alexander tried not to laugh at the tension in the room.
He knew whether Thomas won or not, Thomas would still always have more power.