You have two weeks.
Alexander sat at his desk, working on an animal labors law. Of course, he wasn't EXACTLY supposed to be here, he was supposed to go home waiting for the drunk boys he brought over to his apartment to wake up, but he had things to do.
Alex sighs, rubbing his eyes. He had been there since six, security had let him in with the promise he would leave soon, and here he was, almost three hours later still a sitting at his desk. Atleast the boys were still asleep, Angelica had texted him a picture of them all still snoring in his room, where they had refused to leave after following him in there, forcing Alexander to vacate his OWN room and sleep on the couch in his OWN house.
"Alexander?" Alex looks up at Washington sheepishly, grinning at him.
"Hi George." George crosses his arms, looking at him.
"What the heavens are you doing here on a Saturday, Alexander?" George was in what looked like his pajamas, Blue dog pajama pants with a wife beater. "Shouldn't you be at home?"
"I couldn't really sleep, so I came into work. We didn't really get any work done yesterday and-"
"Son." Alex's mouth snaps shut. "Follow me."
"You don't have to lead me to the door, I can get there by myself-"
"Alexander, just take Burrs advice for once and follow me." Alexander huffs, following him. He lets George lead him to the elevator, and instead of pressing the button down, he presses up. Alex looks confused, watching as the doors close and they rise to the residential suite.
"George?" He doesn't awnser them, walking out and down the hallway. Alexander scampers after him, looking around. He'd never been up here, having stayed down at the offices ever since he was employed.
"Like you said Martha, he's here." George suddenly grabs him, gently pushing him into a bedroom.
"Alexander Hamilton." Alex blushes, waving at Martha. "What are you doing here early?"
"I didn't have anything to do, Martha." He says, scuffing his shoe against the dark grey carpet. "I took the guys out for drinks last night and I was the only one who didn't drink, so I'm not like, dead drunk right now.." He chuckles nervously. Martha smiles at him sadly, smiling at him.
"Alex, come here. Take off your shoes." Alex hesitates, but the smile on Martha's face make him sigh. He shucks off his shoes, pushing them by the door and walking over to her. "Come up here in the bed." Alexander sputters, stepping away.
"Martha-"
"Please?" Alex hesitates, but climbs into the bed, letting Martha guide him into laying down. "When was the last time you had a restful sleep, Alexander?" He thinks back to what had happened the night before. The real reason he was there so early was because he had had a nightmare about the crash, and decided to go to work.
"I... Before the crash, I guess? But, even then I didn't really sleep much." He confesses, leaning against her lap. He let her play in his hair, yawning. "That's why I stayed at work so late. It was comforting to know that sometimes I didn't have to sleep, that I could just... Just... Throw myself into my work and deal with the consequences later. It felt good."
"But it wasn't healthy." Martha says, and Alex nods a bit.
"I know." He mumbles. "I just think it's better to work than to face your fears." He could feel George re-enter the bed, and he scoots over, realizing the bed was big enough that he didn't really have to.
"That's not healthy either." George says, and Alex nods, barely managing to keep his eyes open. Martha playing with his hair felt so good... But he couldn't sleep yet! He had work!
"Martha, I gotta-"
"Just sleep, Alexander. Don't worry, I'm here." Alex looks up at her, and she smiles. "I promise. Go on to sleep." He feels his eyes droop, and before he knows it, he was drifting off into a dreamless sleep.
: :
"Vice president Adams. The hell are you doing here on a Saturday?" Arnold chews on the end of his cigar, looking at the fat man infront of him.
"I need to speak with Mr. Fredrick." Arnold raises an eyebrow.
"Ah, who?"
"You know who I'm talking about, damnit."
"I do not. Educate me, Vice president." Arnold stares Adams down for a couple of seconds before the chubbier man backs down.
"Fine." Adams huffs, glancing away from him. "I need to speak with King Fredrick." Arnold grins.
"You could have just said that in the first place. Go right in." Adams growls, walking inside.
"Eacker? Is that you?" Adams raises an eyebrow, confusion writing on his face.
"W-who- i- Sir, it's me. I have your reports, just like you asked. It was a bit hard, Hamilton came to work today and-"
"Hamilton? Now where have I heard that- oh!" Fredrick sits up at his desk, a dangerous grin on his face. "Isn't he Washington's bastard son?"
"That's what Lee calls him sometimes I guess, sir?"
"Is he on the list of people I gave you? The list of people that would be, ah, dissapearing?" Adams sets the folders in his hands down on the desk, taking a less bulkier folder out from all of them. It only had one paper in it with a list of names.
"Erm, yes sir. You wrote his name right after Thomas Jefferson's."
"Oh, good, great! Now, information?"
"Right! This is the schedules of meetings and everything like that going on over the next few weeks, sir."
"And what did you find? I don't want to attack while another country is there, Wars are a fickle thing to deal with."
"In exactly two weeks, each representitive will be going home. The day after that is a wensday, and thats the only day I can get security to fuck off for a while.
"Where would they be?"
"Ah, down in their breakrooms. If you manage to trap them down there they wont be much trouble. Theres a couple of minutes between breakroom time and next shift where the preisdent is completly vunerable. That time is at 12 pm, and it ends exactly at 12:03. If you can trap them in that room, you'd have enough time to take-erm-kidnap the president and whoever else is on this list. It's a small window, you'd need to be precise."
"We have a person, well, two on the inside, not inculding Conway, I'm presuming we'll be able to get in and out on time." Adams nods, placing the list back down.
"Are you sure about this sir? I mean, we don't have to do this-"
"If we don't do this now, we won't have a chance to do it again in the future. Stop acting like a child and get to it, Adams!" Fredrick growls, frowning when his phone rings. "Hello?" He growls, watching as Adams leave the room.
"Father, why did Ollie just tell me we'd be having guest over, what's going on here?" It was his youngest son, William Henry. He was only ten, and Fredrick didn't like him as much as he loved his other son, Augustus, and his daughter Amelia. First, the boy had been a premature small child, and even now he was smaller and skinner than his older brother. "He said they'd be dipolamtic visitors, is someone important coming to visit us?" Fredrick scowls.
"Wheres your brother?" He hears the young boy sigh.
"Augustus is busy with work, father, you left him in charge, remember-"
"Of course I remember, stupid boy." Fredrick hisses out, wanting to hang up. He hadn't exactly gotten nicer to the boy since his mother had died years before. "Since your so 'curious' you can get the tower ready."
"But father-"
"Speak back to me again boy and I will make sure your tounge is cut out! Now do what I say!"