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"You want me to do what?" John asked, voice raised to the point where Alexander glanced around to see if anyone had heard him before remembering that he was speaking to John over the phone.
He was currently hidden inside of his office, eyes wide and staring at his glaring laptop screen, even as he talked to John. If Alexander had to learn anything from this experience, it was that he shouldn't be allowed coffee after three in the morning.
In front of him sat an email.
It started off reasonably strong, at least. The opening line was a backhanded insult, one that Alexander admitted was slightly strained, but still accurate. However, like most things to do when Alexander has had coffee, it was all downhill from there.
He repeated one of his sentences twice with artistically varied spellings of the same word, before continuing in Latin, as though English just wasn't enough to express his disappointment at Jefferson's proposal for assuming state debt. He also seemed to think that it was an excellent idea to insert a picture of Lafayette's cat, without any context whatsoever, and promptly proceeded to complain about the limited effects of coffee.
Then, for some unknown reason, he began to rant about how Thomas was frustrating to work around, with his distracting smiles and pretty voice. The sad thing was, Alexander was most disappointed with himself for being unable to come up with a better adjective than pretty.
After this situation was sorted, preferably with his leftover dignity remaining untouched, Alexander is going to write a very strongly worded letter (due to the fact that he had uncharacteristically learned his lesson about emails) to whoever the hell thought it was a good idea to exclude an 'unsend' option. Alexander could make a far more superior post system than that.
"You're my best friend." Alexander scowled, continuing his and John's conversation, lowering his voice as though someone outside his office could hear him. To double check, he opened his office door to glance around a considerably vacant office, making eye contact with Burr and glaring at him suspiciously. Burr blinked, then offered an small, hesitant wave. Alexander returned it, before slowly closing the door. He mentally added that to the 'Top Ten Awkward Aaron Burr Encounters', right next to the time he had shrieked and attempted to hide behind a befuddled Burr when he could see a spider bigger than his hand. Even if Burr insisted that it was far smaller than a cent, and everyone looked at Alexander as though he was vastly overreacting, he knows what he saw.
John remained quiet for a long time, before giving a deep sigh that simultaneously reminded Alexander of Aaron Burr and Hercules when having to drag both John and Alexander out of a particularly stupid endeavour.
"You're asking me to distract Jefferson do you can break into Jefferson's office to delete an email you sent him at three in the morning?" John repeated, very slowly, as though Alexander was the one being unreasonable. It was simple enough, and would take only a few minutes, but Alexander couldn't do this alone in case he got caught.
If he did get caught, at least he had a friend going down with him. That was a small comfort, even though John probably wouldn't see it like that.
"Yes." Alexander stated bluntly, making sure John knew that Alexander thought he was being overdramatic, before defensively adding. "I'd do the same for you."
"Fine. You fucking owe me, man." John expressed. He sighed again, muttering something under his breath, before hanging up. Alexander grimaced. Now all he had to do was wait.
Unfortunately, unlike Burr, Alexander was not accustomed to waiting. He deleted the email he had sent on his laptop, knowing full well that Thomas would still have a copy of his own.
He began pacing up and down his office. Of course, if somehow Alexander and John failed their attempt at rescuing Alexander's dignity, the only reasonable option was to run away to a different country and change their names. There was no way in hell he would be able to put up with Thomas smirking at him, or worse - Thomas telling his co-workers about what had happened.
Alexander tapped his foot restlessly. He opened his office door again, only to find a reasonably alarmed looking Burr, before closing his door again.
He resumed pacing.
Then, just because he could, he cursed in as many different languages that he knew. That was one of the perks of knowing languages - swearing without facing any concerns.
He had forgotten that Burr was also fluent in French, and received a polite statement (equipped with a formal vous) to stop cursing so loudly. In response, Alexander merely recited the start of Macbeth, but Burr wasn't as bothered by this as John usually was.
He continued to pace around his office. He must have been here for hours, what if Thomas - no. He would've heard Thomas arrive, or at least heard him as Thomas inevitably barged into his office and demanded an explanation. A quick glance at his laptop told him that six minutes had passed.
Oh.
Alexander may had been overreacting a tiny bit, before disregarding this thought; if there was any time to overreact, now was it. This was possibly the stupidest thing he has ever done, and he didn't even need Angelica pointedly informimg him that he had messed up.
Eventually, two agonizing minutes later, John arrived, his appearance announced by his loud and enthusiastically shrieked greeting of, "Aaron Burr! The prodigy of Princeton College!"
Immediately, there was a quiet mumble that indicated Burr's neutral response. Alexander rushed to his office door, throwing it open, and stating grimly, "Let's do this."
Burr looked at him in alarm. Alexander and the following words of 'let's do this' tended not to bode well, but he was too polite to say anything, opting to regard him cautiously. John nodded, any hints of merriness whipped away by a solemn frown. Without a word, he followed Alexander as he led the way into a corridor.
"Do you have a plan?" John asked quietly, glancing around him as though someone was immediately able to guess the entire spin of events and point a scandalised finger at him.
"No." Alexander frowned. He belatedly realised that maybe spending so long panicking, swearing, and pacing around he could have dedicated some time to planning. He offered, rather apologetically, "No plan is the best kind of plan, right?"
"Not really, no." John grimaced, before crossing his arms. His mind had been made up. "We'll roll with it."
"Thank you, John." Alexander nodded, before cautiously opening the door to Thomas's office. There was a silence in which both Alexander and John held their breaths. With extreme care, he moved forward, turning to face John.
"Good luck." John mouthed, and Alexander responded in a likewise fashion, before closing the door with a foreboding click. He shakily exhaled, heart racing. He needed an excuse for if Thomas found him, but couldn't think of one, so he hurried over to Thomas's laptop.
The rich bastard had two.
With a grimaced, he realised that he really hadn't thought this far ahead, and hadn't even considered the idea that Thomas could have a password. Of course Thomas had a password. Who knows, Burr could be a unopinionated politician by day, secret laptop thief by night. Alexander paused with the thought of writing a book on that idea, before shaking his head.
The hint wasn't helpful - 'back away from my computer' - because obviously the smug asshole didn't need password hints like normal people. Alexander reckoned he was the type of person to put down a ridiculously long password just in case.
The door was opened.
Alexander wasn't proud in the way he gave a small yelp, and physically jumped. Thankfully, it was John who had opened the door, his eyes wide and considerably paler than usual.
"Alexander, he's coming." John hissed into the room, voice strained with what was likely one of the most stressful situations he had ever been in. Alexander threw up his hands hopelessly, swearing in Klingon.
"Distract him!" Alexander hissed back, knowing that he needed to be quick on both deleting the email and working out a damned good excuse that didn't involve lots of pauses or hesitating. John grimaced, closing the door behind him, leaving Alexander alone in his panic. He tried both 'Virginia' and 'password123' in his panic, scowling when 'VirginianPassword123' didn't turn up conclusive either.
It was then that John started to speak. His voice was loud, trying to distract Thomas by talking about Aaron Burr, of all things, and for the moment being, Thomas seemed content to allow John to blather away. He didn't even question on why John was talking to him, or what he was even doing there, just merely made the occasional comment in response.
Alexander felt a hopeless pressure push down on him. He was trapped. His only sufferance would be deleting that goddamn email, but he knew that crafting a decent excuse was out of the question.
At a last-ditch attempt, he rummaged through the notebooks stacked neatly besides the laptop, hands nearly shaking with tension. Finally, on top of a pale pink notebook hidden underneath six others, was a purple post-it note with the word 'VirginianPassword1234' neatly scrawled on it. Alexander took a second, just a mere second of time, to stand there in shock at the sheer ridiculousness of his password, before shaking himself out of a stunned stupor.
John's voice got significantly louder, evidently in warning of Thomas losing interest in his diverting, and Alexander weighed out the pros and cons of merely throwing Thomas's computer out the window, before remembering that Thomas would probably throw him after it, and he'd rather not pay for the hospital bill.
Alexander decided that he loathed Thomas's laptop. It took too long to load to the desktop - decorated with an image of an old meme that Alexander cringed at with distaste. He was about to log onto Thomas's email account - he knew the address, and probably the password, but the door opened.
Alexander startled, not as strongly as he had the first time, but enough to get an eyebrow raise from Thomas. There was a pause. John met his eyes awkwardly, shaking his head in the universal 'don't tell him I was an accomplise'.
Alexander blinked, knowing full well he was caught, and tried to act casual, crossing his arms as though Thomas was the one in his office. Alexander's response exidently bewildered Thomas, as he took a few seconds to reply. "What the fuck are you doing?"
John, the traitor, offered him an awkward thumbs up before skidding down the corridor, shouting at Burr to hide him. Alexander paused, thinking, and thankful that Thomas had been distracted by John's actions.
"Um." Alexander said loudly, trying not to think that 'um' was the human equivalent of buffering. He paused, glancing at the laptop screen, before up at Thomas, who was looking more and more alarmed by the second. Alexander cleared his throat, shuffling his feet awkwardly, but not backing down from Thomas's stare. "Well, I can tell you what I'm not doing."
"What the hell?" Thomas asked to the world at large, looking deeply exhausted, before narrowing his eyes in accusation. 'You're hiding something."
"Don't go onto your emails." Alexander replied, before mentally applauding himself for saying the one thing that would make Thomas want to go on his email account.
Instead of rushing over to check like Alexander had expected, Thomas remained where he is, watching Alexander carefully as though Alexander was going to suddenly bolt. Alexander considered the idea of running, but Thomas had blocked the exits, and it would merely prolong the inevitable. Even though, at that moment, Alexander was all for prolonging.
"Why?" Thomas inquired slowly, with some degree of caution that stated he wasn't sure if he wanted the response. Alexander grimaced, because at least Thomas was listening to him, but it meant that he had to come up with a good explanation, and fast.
"Just - don't." Alexander stated, like the fucking genius he is. The idea of a good explanation promptly disappeared as Thomas entered his office, closing the door as though this would somehow magically prevent Alexander from leaving as Thomas worked out what that hell was going on.
Thomas passed close besides Alexander, and he froze, feeling the heat from Thomas radiate against him. Of all the times for is raging bisexuality to make itself known to the world, now was probably one of the least inopportune time.
Thomas paused, seemingly hesitating, before glancing down at Alex. "Your concerns have been listened to." Alexander paused, waiting for the other shoe to drop, and wasn't disappointed when Thomas promptly clicked on the email icon.
Now was a good time to leave.
He was above attempting to steal Thomas's laptop long enough for him to delete it, but that was only because Thomas was closer to it than he was. Thomas noticed Alexander's email - cheerfully titled as 'read this, you smug twat', and down at Alexander again, one eyebrow arched.
"Delete it." Alexander insisted, eyes wide. He hadn't noticed that he had spelt the word read wrong beforehand, but this discovery didn't suddenly give him the ability to avoid his pride being slowly destroyed. "Do not open that email."
"You sent this at three am?" Thomas asked, looking as though he was vaguely concerned for Alexander's health, before glancing back. Alexander wondered if he could quickly delete the email before Thomas was able to stop him, but it appeared that Thomas had predicted the course of action, and his arm was placed strategically besides the laptop.
"Yes." Alexander said, lips thinning. He had realised that regardless of what happened here on, he was never going to be able to have the same amount of pride he had previously had. He blamed it on the coffee, because that was easier. "It's a sign you need to delete it."
"No, thanks." Thomas replied, and promptly opened up the email. Alexander grimaced, reading over the paragraph with a frown. Regret, he supposed, was one emotion he currently had, battling for dominance against a large amount of embarrassment and frustration.
"Did you hit caps lock and forget or something? Oh, great, now you're bitching about coffee in Latin-" Thomas cut himself off, frowning, before rereading the entire paragraph. This was Alexander's cue to slowly back away, heat rising unwelcome to his face. He tried to do so as cautiously as possible, but Thomas's voice paused him in his attempt.
"Alexander, what the fuck does this mean?" Thomas asked loudly, and Alexander flinched, glancing behind him at the closed door. Thomas didn't sound angry, merely confused, and - hopeful? Alexander dismissed that thought due to the sheer unlikeliness of it. "Do you like me or something?"
"No." Alex immediately scoffed, the lilt of his voice giving him away, and his words far too fast to be even remotely convincing. Alexander decided that he wouldn't die in a blaze of glory, or even from old age - death via embarrassment, because if anyone could do it, Alexander could, and he would hence leave his legacy on the world by becoming a medical mystery. "Of course not."
Thomas didn't seem to hear him, as he was busy rereading the email, as though he was trying to find an encrypted message that was just beyond his reach. Unfortunately, Alexander had seemed to forgotten how to move - he was completely still, eyes wide, and unable to think past the repetitive thought of oh shit, he knows.
There was a long pause. Alexander wasn't able to look away from Thomas, from the small, confused frown he was wearing, or from the tension in his shoulders.
"You think my voice is pretty?" Thomas eventually asked, quiet, and Alexander alomst denied it, sheerly on instinct, before pausing. His lying hadn't gotten him far a few seconds ago, so he opted with a half answer.
"I will not dignify that with an answer." Alexander retorted, crossing his arms.
Ironically, that statement was as good as an answer.
"You do." Thomas stated slowly, eyes wide, glancing up from his stupid laptop to meet Alexander's eyes. "Holy shit, after all of the complaints you've said about my accent."
"Your accent is annoying." Alexander immediately replied, swallowing uncomfortably against the lie. At this, Thomas looked at him.
"Not according to this." He retorted. Alexander was hit with a slight sense of relief - he had expected Thomas to be damn near evil with this new information, not quiet and pensive. He wasn't sure how alarmed he was supposed to be, but he didn't want to find out. There was a pause. "Not that I'm complaining, or anything, but why is there a picture of Lafayette's cat?"
"I was running on three hours of sleep, enough coffee to kill a young horse and I have consequently ran out of said coffee, so don't judge me." Alexander muttered quickly, hoping that Thomas wouldn't be able to overhear him and would therefore drop the matter. He had no such luck.
"Me?" Thomas repeated, looking vaguely offended, and placing a hand over his heart. "Judge you? Never."
"Shut up." Alexander scowled, trying to find comfort in their usual exchange but failing. Thomas had an air of self-satisfaction, one that made Alexander feel deeply on edge.
"So, you've ran out of coffee?" Thomas drawled slowly, shutting his laptop with a smooth movement, before crossing his arms.
"Yeah." Alexander said, slowly. His mind was rushing ahead of itself, and Alexander refused to get his hopes up.
"You know, Alexander, there's this coffee shop down by fifth." Thomas shrugged, voice easy, though carefully watching Alexander for his reaction. Thomas tilted his head slightly, as though in casual consideration. "We can go by there after work."
Alexander blinked.
He then blinked again.
He glanced besides him, as though a different Alexander was going to appear, then glanced back at Thomas, who was still watching him with a guarded caution. Alexander paused, feeling a rush of color rise to his face. "I'm up for that."
Thomas smiled at him, eyes completely soft, and Alexander felt his heart stutter in his chest.
"Who knows, I might continue to be an 'insufferably handsome bastard.'" Thomas quoted dryly, and Alexander groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose with exasperation.
"You're going to be hell with this, aren't you?" Alexander sighed deeply, feeling a vague sense of dismay rise with Thomas's words, yet he was too busy trying to hold back a grin.
"Obviously." Thomas retorted, raising an eyebrow, yet his eyes were still watching Alexander softly. "Did you honestly expect less?"
"No." Alexander shook his head once, feigning a tired, exasperated hurt, though the effect was broken by a tiny smile. "But I hoped, Thomas. I truly hoped."
"Shut up and get out before I forward this email to James." Thomas threatened him, trying to look as convincing as possible. Alexander threw up his hands in mock placation.
"I'm going, damn." Alexander said defensively, turning to open the door. There was a pause. Alexander grinned at Thomas. "I'll see you then."