A hot, aching pain burned from my fingertips to the beginning of my wrist as I scribbled down a few last words. I shook my hand profusely. I had been writing for a couple hours…couldn't have been more than a few. I glanced at the clock, zoning out on the unmoving hand. We'd never taken it in to be fixed, so it remained stuck. I shook myself back to my work, dipping the end of the quill in the ink.

The desk shook slightly as someone scrambled upstairs. I let out a small grumble.

"Bonjour!" Jefferson abruptly flung open the door. I groaned, redirecting my attention to the flamboyant man at my door. "Yes?" I mumbled, hoping he'd notice my expression of uninterest. He didn't seem to notice, or perhaps he didn't care.

He took a seat on the stool next to the door frame, "Watcha' up to James?"

I sighed softly. "What time is it? The damn clock doesn't work at all," I muttered, ignoring his question.

"Nearing twelve. Say, how about you come to my place so the two of us can hang out? I'm bored and haven't had visitors in quite awhile. I suppose it's because of what happened the last time I threw a party there..." Thomas ran a hand through his hair with a face of embarrassment. I recalled the boisterous event that ended with police at the front door. It was an experience many guests forced themselves to forget.

I redirected my attention to the work laid in front of me, less than half the papers remaining, "Sorry Thomas, I'm currently busy," I said while trying to keep my voice from revealing any signs of my annoyance. My hands fidgeted on the paper before me.

"Busy with what? You shouldn't be working late every single day!" He stood up and walked to my side, peering over my finished work, his hands behind his back.

I tried to stay focused on the paper in front of me. God he's a distraction in himself, I thought irritably. "Busy with the work you never finish. I'd have been finished hours ago if you were only as responsible as me," I exaggerated the last part with a hiss. It was the truth though. I'd constantly pick up his unfinished work at the end of the day to complete it at home. Most of the time, the letters were directed towards him, so I'd end my response with his signature, which I'd managed to perfect. I never really told him, but he must've noticed that his unfinished work from the previous day had gone missing. In the end, however, he'd always receive credit for the work I did and turned in for him.

He rolled his eyes. "Well I would get my work done if you weren't constantly snagging it at the end of the day! I'm very aware of the due dates on everything," He remarked scornfully. "And plus, who's more important than me, your partner?"

"Literally anyone," I hissed sarcastically. He gasped dramatically, bringing a hand to his chest, "How dare thou!?" I let out a small, muffled laugh at the remark. Switching back to a more serious tone, "Listen Thomas, the invitation was very flattering and all, but I seriously have work to do."

He loosely wrapped his arms around my neck, which surprised me. "Come on, just take a break already! You've got tomorrow to do this. We're going back to my place," he replied sternly.

"No."

"What?"

"I said no. I've told you twice now."

"You're going to refuse the Secretary of State?"

"Yep."

"You're going to refuse your closest colleague?"

"Mhm."

Thomas looked thoughtful for a moment.

"You're going to refuse your best friend?"

I sighed with frustration. "Jefferson, look, as much as I'd love to go, I seriously have work to do! We can do this another day." He frowned, redirecting his hands to my shoulders. "Come on! Who's this letter for anyway?" His persistence bothered me honestly, but I knew that he was just worried. "This one is for Hamilton," I responded bluntly, trying not to think too much about his physical contact.

"Fuck Hamilton! You're going to keep yourself up all night for that prick? Hell no you won't!" Jefferson effortlessly lifted me off the chair by my shoulders. It occurred to me just how light I probably was compared to him. At this point I had given up. He wasn't going to let me continue working, and I probably couldn't even if I tried.

"Alright fine you win," I muttered reluctantly. He beamed and gave me a tight hug before bouncing back to my door. He mumbled something happily to himself as he exited. I shifted the unfinished papers to the side of my desk, and cleaned off the tip of my quill. As I placed it down on the desk I felt a small sense of relief. I suppose I was thankful that Thomas was forcing me over to his house. I grabbed my coat and headed out the door. Thomas was waiting for me patiently by the front door.

He smiled at me. "Let's go darlin," he teased. I gave him a grateful glance before we headed out.