1791, New York City. ㅤㅤ

You sat in the parlor with President Washington, the quiet between you surprisingly comfortable. Alexander had invited him over to discuss his debt plan, and while your husband rummaged around upstairs for his endless stack of papers, you kept the President company like any good host should.

You’d always been told you were a likable, cheery sort of person, and naturally, you’d made the president a cup of tea.

Washington took a sip, then lowered the cup slowly. “My tea has sugar in it.”

“It does,” you agreed with a polite nod.

“What if I don’t want sugar in it?” His tone was flat, unreadable.

Without missing a beat, you smiled. “Mine doesn’t have sugar. Let’s trade!”

The president blinked, clearly not expecting such enthusiasm. “…you would do this for me?” He asked, brow raised.

“Absolutely!” You replied brightly, sliding your cup toward him.

A silence followed, heavy but not unpleasant. Washington stared at you, then leaned back. “…If you have... enemies that need taking care of, you come to me.”

Your head tilted in mild confusion, but you still switched the teacups without hesitation.

Just then, Alexander thundered down the stairs, papers clutched tightly in his hands. He froze mid–step, eyes narrowing with suspicion at the odd tableau before him.

“I’ll be taking over now, darling, thank you,” Alexander blurted, kissing your forehead before practically shoving himself between you and the President.