Another meeting, another pissing match between Hamilton and Jefferson. Washington nursed his headache as Hamilton went off about who started what and that it definitely was all Jefferson's fault. "Sometimes," he thought, "I swear I'm working with 6 year olds." He was their leader, but he never wanted to be. Sure, he fought for his country and he was proud they were free, but by God's bollocks he needed a break. Just a rest from all the politics and decisions and pretending to be someone he wasn't.
Hamilton was a shouting, sweat drenched, angry, child sized, overworked secretary treasurer.
Jefferson was a well dressed, pissed off, over dressed, proud, omelette like secretary of state.
They were both apart of the government, both alike (in Washington's eyes mostly), both looking for the best for the people. "Why can't they get along?" he thought, but that might have to do with the whole shoe thing. He'd torn Hamilton up pretty bad about that, not that it stopped their incessant fighting.
Washington looked over his calendar, noting the Saturday he had off, a day he'd planned to spend alone out on the lake fishing. His wife had never understood why it relaxed him so. He supposed it was the quiet, when you ran a nation you didn't get much quiet.
"When you try to run a nation while your two best men act like fighting cocks you don't get any quiet." the thought caused the headache to persist. Idea-
Pro: They would finally get along
Con: It might not work
Pro: If it works cabinet meetings would go a lot smoother
Con: It would mean sacrificing my next day off
Pro:
Washington stopped writing, already decided.
He was taking his boys fishing, I mean it can't turn out that bad? I mean at least not as bad as the last meeting, the Cabinet Room was still under repair from the resulting fire.
To not have to deal with that again, that'd be worth it…
Right?
"Ugh!" Jefferson shook the pole after having successfully gotten the hook stuck in another bush. "What is the point of this again, it's not like we're going to eat this fish?"
Hamilton blew air through his nose, "According to the president," the word is sharp, "it's supposed to be relaxing." Mr. President had left to relieve himself, leaving them alone.
"Well, couldn't he relax without me being here," he continued spitting, "or perhaps without you it would actually be relaxing."
"Yes, without you it would be," Alexander had done his share of fishing as a child and while he wasn't unskilled, it didn't exactly bring back the best memories. And with skilled eye he could see how Jefferson failed, a flow to sharp and with no direction.
.m.o.m.e.n.t.s..p.a.s.s.e.d.
...with a hell of a lot of swearing from Jefferson
Alexander had had enough, "You entitled ass, pay attention!"
Thomas looked over, prepared to rip him apart when Alex continued, showing the step and throw of casting, "like this before you tear someone's eye out."
He looked indignant, before laughing a little, "found that out while you were slumming in Nevis, Hamilton."
"And I'm surprised you didn't know how to cast while growing up on a plantation."
Whatever olive branch Alexander had offered was withering as he stalked off, done with Jefferson and prepared to tell the President that.
His plans changed when Jefferson successfully managed to get the hook into something's mouth.
Unfortunately it wasn't a fish.
"WHAT THE FUCK!" at least that's what I think he said, not that it mattered to the birds who scattered in every direction.
"My god" he dropped the pole.
"Shit!, no," he dropped to, following the line that attached him to the pole.
"Well," Thomas said, "I finally got you hooked on my policies."
"you did this on purpose!?" blood spat from his mouth and ran down his cheek.
"No, of course I didn't do it on…" he grinned, "porpoise…"
"I'm going to kill you!"
Thomas backed up, "Sorry, I'm having some trouble herring you."
…
"You alright Hamilton? You don't need a sturgeon do you?"
…
"Water you doing, Hamilton?"
…
"Hamilton?"
…
"you know, I'm sorry right?"
…
"Hey, put that hook down, put it down! Alexander, put it the fuck dow-AUGH!"