5 Thomas Jefferson

Title: The Cousin of My Enemy is My Love

OC: Madelyn Callen

Ship name: Tyn ? (Rhymes with tin. I'm bad at making ship names...)

Notes: Thomas saves a young woman from the Caribbean from a horrid fate and soon finds out she's more than he bargained for... 17th century, after the war.

[JEFFERSON POV]

"Do you hear that?" I asked my friend James Madison as we walked from yet another horrendous cabinet meeting.

"What, the screaming? Yes, I've heard that for a while now," Madison said.

I looked at him. "And you didn't tell me?"

He shrugged. "You were so busy ranting about Hamilton, I thought better of it."

I grumbled but turned my attention back to the screams. I tried to hear what the screamed words were, but we were too far away for me to make them out clearly enough. But I did know for sure it sounded like a woman.

"We have to go check it out," I said firmly, a bad feeling in my gut.

Madison looked at me like I had lost my mind. "Are you mental!? I'm not going near the screaming!"

"Someone could be dying, James!" I protested.

"Precisely!" he said. "I don't want to be next!"

"Fine, you go," I snapped. "I'm making sure the woman is alright."

Madison shrugged. "Suit yourself. If you don't come to work tomorrow, I'll know you died."

"I'm not going to die," I promised, despite a nagging voice in the back of my mind that said I might.

He walked away, casting me a few glances. I turned toward the sound of the screams and started walking. I followed the sound, which got louder as I walked forward, which I wasn't sure if I should consider that a bad thing or a good thing.

I turned a corner and stopped dead, my blood running cold and a hot rage boiling up in my system. It was the kind of anger I only felt around Hamilton—until now.

Some random guy had a young woman pressed against the brick and mortar wall. She was cowering and whimpering, trying to make herself smaller. He was clearly drunk and definitely of the perverted sort. A couple other guys sneered, jeering and catcalling off to the side.

It struck me like lightning—if I didn't do something, this woman would most likely be raped.

"HEY!" I yelled. I didn't know where my voice came from, but I didn't like the idea of this woman—clearly upper class from her clothing—getting shoved around by some jerk.

The woman's head whipped to me. I couldn't make out anything more than her eyes in the dark, the only light that of the pale moon. The guy turned slowly and I could clearly see the nasty grin that spread across his face.

"Well, well, well," he slurred. "What's an uppa class man like you doin' down here in the slums of New Yawrk Sit-teh?"

"What's a guy like you doing with a woman like her?" I snapped back. "Step away from the lass and get out of here."

He sneered. "Yeah? What're you gonna do about, huh, Southerner?"

He had a good question. I had no good answer.

"Step away," I said again. Then I remembered the staff in my hand and I brought it forward, making it a bit more obvious to the man. The moonlight glinted on the polished bronze sphere on the top that made the handle. If I needed to, the sphere was heavy enough to knock the man unconscious for a good hour or two.

He stared at the staff, then sneered. "You wouldn't even try." But he sounded less sure of himself than before.

His friends pulled him off the woman. "C'mon, let's just go..."

They retreated out of the street, into an alleyway, and then back into a bar. I glared after them, then turned my attention to the poor, hyperventilating woman.

"Miss, are you alright?"

She pressed a hand to her stomach. "Not at all, Mr. Jefferson. Oh, thank you, Mr. Jefferson!" She threw herself at me, hugging me and sobbing into my chest. "If you hadn't come..."

I held her. "Shh, dear woman. I did come. You are alright, yes?"

"I suppose."

"How did you recognize me?"

"The coat," she said, a blush appearing on her cheeks.

I smiled. "I'm so easily recognized by my fuschia, then, hmm?"

She nodded. "And the French-Southern accent."

I sighed. "I doubt that's ever going to go away."

She smiled.

"What's your name, miss?"

"Madelyn Callen, Mr. Jefferson," she said, curtseying.

"Well, Madelyn, what brings you here to New York? Do you live here, are you visiting? Any relatives that live here, perhaps? I do not mean to pry," I added hastily.

"Well, I've just come from Europe, in search of my family...my cousin," Madelyn elaborated. "I am currently without a place to stay."

"My house is open, if you need it," I said. "I have an extra bedroom. Of course, it is very small. My house isn't much, compared to Monticello...but it suites me well."

"Oh, you are too kind, Mr. Jefferson," Madelyn said. "But I couldn't. You've done so much for me already."

"Then allow me to help you more," I said. "Please, it really is the least I can do."

"Alright...," she decided. "I have a few belongings, just here." She gestured to a pile of bags that had been cast aside. I picked them up for her and gave her the smallest of all of them, carrying the others for her.

I held out my arm. "Miss Callen, if you'd please..."

She giggled. "It would be my pleasure."

[JEFFERSON POV]

That night, Madelyn awoke for the fifth time with a scream. I stood up again, exhaustion pulling at my eyes. I just wanted to fall asleep, but I had learned Madelyn could not quite get over her experience earlier in the night.

"Madelyn?" I asked at the door.

"Please, come in," she whispered.

I pushed open the door. I watched her, concerned. I sat on the edge of the bed. "Madelyn, are you alright?"

"The same dream," she whispered. "But a thousand times worse...more vivid, more real."

"Is there anything you want?"

"Tea?" she asked hesitantly.

I nodded and went to make it. I wasn't sure how strong she preferred her tea, so I made it on the weaker side, but with plenty of flavor. I was on my way back when I saw my violin. I froze. I stared at it for a moment, then hurried to give Madelyn her tea. I handed it to her and she took it, drinking deeply. She had sat up and was using a pile of pillows to keep herself upright.

I turned and hurried out, returning to my violin. I picked it up and brought it back to Madelyn. "Are you a fan of the violin?"

Madelyn's eyes widened. "Oh, yes! My father used to play all the time!"

"May I ask what your accent is?" I asked, suddenly intrigued as it thickened again.

"Scottish."

I raised an eyebrow. "So that's where you come from!"

She nodded. "I love my home. I miss it. But I must find my family."

I nodded. "I understand your reasons for your search. Family is important."

"Very," she agreed. She looked back to my violin. "How long have you played?"

"Nearly all my life," I said. "I love the violin. It's crescendos and decrescendos, swooping and soaring notes, dramatic hold outs and elegant finishes... There is no better instrument."

She laughed. "I can play the harp, the violin, the cello, and the lyre."

I raised an eyebrow, impressed. "Impressive. Clearly, you prefer the strings?"

She nodded. "Though I used to play the flute. I don't know if I could now; it's been so long."

I smiled and began to play the violin, letting the sweet music soar in high notes and dip into lower octaves. No words were needed to make a violin's song complete; the instrument itself played a song that perfect and finished enough without a human voice.

It was only as I finished the last crescendo that I realized Madelyn had fallen asleep.

[MADELYN POV]

Mr. Jefferson was quite the accomplished musician. His violin sang as he played it, the notes melodious and beautiful.

It was those notes that sent me into a finally peaceful sleep, from which I did not wake until morning. Those notes played on repeat in my head as I slept, painting pictures of picturesque Parisian nights and a moonlit stroll on a cobbled street.

The next morning, I woke and found my way to the kitchen. Mr. Jefferson was making breakfast. He smiled when he saw me.

"Good morning, Miss Callen!" he said cheerfully. "Sleep well, finally?"

"Finally," I agreed. "Your skills with the violin are a reason for that, Mr. Jefferson."

He smiled. "I'm glad I could help. Will you continue to need a place to stay?"

"For some time," I admitted. "While I look for my cousin."

Mr. Jefferson nodded. "Alright. Well, I'll have to head off in only a few minutes. If you would like, you can wander in the city. Just...don't get caught in any bad situations again and don't get lost."

I smiled, a bit bitterly. "Of course."

Mr. Jefferson left not too long after, and I set off into the city, wondering how I would find my cousin.

I'm coming, Alex. I'm coming.

[JEFFERSON POV]

"Ah, you're alive," Madison said as I walked, late, into the meeting.

A smile quirked at Washington's lips. "I was beginning to think Madison's tale of your death was true after all."

Hamilton murmured something that sounded like, "I was hoping it was."

I weighed my options. I could either acknowledge or ignore Hamilton. I chose to do a little bit of both, sending him a glare that could kill but otherwise doing nothing.

I took my seat on the opposite side of Washington.

Today was going to be a ridiculously long day.

[JEFFERSON POV]

Nearly two months have passed and the cabinet meetings only get worse. Hamilton and I are at each other's throats, talking smack to each other and trying to outdo each other in everything.

Madelyn still has not found her family, but she has become more comfortable with the city, walking through it with ease.

And speaking of Madelyn, we shared our first kiss last night.

"Madelyn," I said with a smile. "I didn't realize you were such a great cook!"

She blushed scarlet. "Oh, well. I had to cook for my family while my mother was ill when I was a young teenager. The women in my family taught me everything I know—along with a few lessons learned from experience."

"Well," I said fondly, "your family certainly made you into someone who's food could catch a man at first taste."

At this, her cheeks turned deeper. "Oh! Er...ah, th-thank you, Mr. Jefferson."

"Call me Thomas," I said. We were standing now, putting away the dishes of the dinner. We were standing very close, too. I put my plate down, took the plate from Madelyn's hands, and put that one down, too. I leaned in and our lips connected briefly. She gazed up at me after I'd pulled away and closed her eyes, inviting me to kiss her again. I did.

Madelyn's lips were soft and gentle. They reflected her demeanor, the whole way she lived life.

She was a rare kind of woman.

And that was the way I loved her.

[MADELYN POV]

I kissed Thomas goodbye. "I'll see you this evening when you return."

He frowned. "I may return late, Maddie, darling."

"Cabinet meetings?"

He nodded. "Hamilton is going at me tooth-and-claw for hours on end."

My blood ran cold. "Hamilton?"

"Yes, the man I've been ranting about every night at dinner."

In truth, the name had escaped me. I generally got myself lost listening to Thomas's voice and staring into his eyes. But I nodded as if I knew the man Thomas spoke of. "Yes. He's...quite..." —I searched for a word— "...something, isn't he?"

Thomas nodded and kissed me on the cheek. "That he is. I love you, Maddie."

"I love you, Thomas." I watched him go from the door.

It had been nearly three weeks since our first kiss. I still searched for my family, but now I thought I might have a lead.

"Hamilton..." I murmured, shaking my head. "Whoever you are, you certainly are giving Thomas quite the run for his money."

I stepped away from the door and got ready for the day, ready to chase my new lead.

[JEFFERSON POV]

I glanced at Hamilton for the fiftieth time and Madison smacked me.

"Thomas, stop it! He's going to notice you," he warned.

"But why does it look like he's been awake for days, weeping the whole time?" I mused.

"Maybe his wife saw sense and kicked him out of her life," Madison suggested.

"No, if she did, we'd know about it," I hissed back. "Besides, I saw them this morning together."

"Oh. Never mind, then."

"I wonder...," I mused after about five minutes of silence had passed. I had glanced over at Hamilton again.

"What?" Madison asked.

"That letter he's holding. Maybe it's part of the reason why he's so...dead-looking," I said.

Madison opened his mouth to reply, but just then Hamilton let out a sound like a dying cat. "WHAT!?"

"Hamilton...?" Washington asked. He was frowning, confused.

Hamilton's head snapped up. He gaped between the letter and Washington, mouth moving but no sound coming out for the first time in his life. Madison and I looked at each other, grinning and snickering.

Hamilton whirled on me. He stood and thrust the letter at me. "Read." His tone made the word sound like an order.

I plucked the letter from his hand and started to read.

Dear Alexander,

You will probably not remember me. It has been so long since we last saw each other. I have found you, honestly, by accident. But I am glad I have. I have only heard bits and pieces about you, most of it in rants. But your reputation precedes you, Mr. Hamilton.

By now I'm sure you're wondering who is writing to you.

I am your cousin, Alexander.

I have come from Europe to find you. After I heard about what happened to your mother, I have been distraught, hoping to find you. Your father...well, you can trust my father was ready to murder him when he found out what he'd done.

Anyway, enough of our tragic family history.

Shall we meet again, someday soon, perhaps?

With love,

Madelyn Callen

(P.S. You may reach me through your colleague Thomas Jefferson. He and I are in a relationship.)

My jaw hit the floor. My eyes were as wide as tea saucers. I felt as though someone had flipped the world upside down and told me that this was the way things were actually supposed to go.

"Oh...my...," I began.

Hamilton stared at me. "Wait, she didn't tell you!?"

"No," I said weakly.

"Did she know...?" he murmured, more to himself.

"I don't know!" I snapped.

"I wasn't talking to you!" he snapped.

"Jefferson, Hamilton. What is going on?" Washington asked, coming over.

Hamilton pointed at me. "He's dating my cousin."

I looked up at Washington as the president gave me the strangest look I have ever seen. "I was not aware that Madelyn is Hamilton's cousin."

"Does the fact change your feelings toward her?"

"No."

"Does the fact change your feelings toward Hamilton?"

"No."

"Then we can get back to work."

[MADELYN POV]

"Maddie?" Thomas's voice rang out through our home and I smiled, hurrying down to greet him.

"Thomas—" I started, but stopped when I saw the man next to him. "Oh...my..."

"Madelyn?" the man asked.

I inched forward slowly. "Alexander... You look so much like your father." I paused. "Thinner, yes, but very similar."

Abruptly, Alexander hugged me tightly. I fell into my cousin's embrace, smiling. I looked at Thomas.

"Thank you," I mouthed.

He nodded.

When I stepped back from Alexander, I fixed him with a stern expression. "Now, no bringing up my name in cabinet meetings to use to your advantage, you hear?" I glanced at Thomas. "Both of you."

"Yes, Madelyn," they chanted back.

I smiled and kissed both their cheeks. "Good. Now, Alexander. I want to meet your family."

He smiled. "Yes. You must meet Eliza and our children."

"I'M AN AUNT!?"

He laughed. "Yes, you are an aunt."

I was practically glowing as he brought me to his house to meet his wife and children.

"Eliza! I'm home with a visitor!"

A beautiful woman appeared. She had smile lines on her face and kind eyes. She smiled upon seeing her husband. "Alexander." She gave him a hug and a kiss on the cheek then looked at me. "Who is our guest?"

"This is Madelyn Callen, my cousin," Alexander said, beaming.

Eliza was still for a moment, processing. Then her smile broadened and she laughed. "Oh! It's so good to see you! I didn't know Alexander had any family in America!"

"I have just come from Europe a few months ago to find him. If it weren't for his feud with Thomas Jefferson, I'd still be looking.

"Oh?" Eliza asked.

I nodded. "Thomas and I are in a relationship."

"I got the letter at work," Alexander said.

Eliza laughed. "I can imagine how that played out!"

We all laughed. Two children ran out from another room at the sound of it.

"Kids," Alexander said, kneeling, "this is your Aunt Madelyn."

"Momma has another sister?" the girl asked.

Eliza laughed. "Goodness, no. This is Papa's cousin."

The boy looked up at me. "I'm Philip!"

"I'm Angelica," the little girl said.

"It's nice to meet you, Philip and Angelica," I said, smiling.

[JEFFERSON POV]

I didn't even see Madison until he was right in front of me, speaking.

"So, are you going to marry her?"

I jumped a mile. "James! Shh! You don't need to announce it to the whole cabinet!"

"Answer the question!"

"Yes, I'm going to marry her!" I cried.

"When are you proposing?"

"Tonight? Maybe? Sometime this week? I don't know! I'm nervous!"

"Don't be, Thomas, you'll be fine—" Madison started.

"Actually, he has every right to be nervous," Hamilton interrupted. "Madelyn's feisty."

I snorted in agreement.

"Do you have a ring yet?" Hamilton asked.

I nodded. "I got it last month. I've been trying to work up the courage to propose for a while, now..."

"Have you really?" Washington asked, amused, from behind us.

I groaned. "How many people know?"

"The whole cabinet," Madison said guiltily.

"MADISON!"

[MADELYN POV]

I hummed as I dried my hands from washing dishes. I turned to the pie I had made for dessert that evening, a French recipe from Alexander's mother's side that I had a feeling Thomas would love.

The door opened and closed.

"Maddie?" Thomas's voice was accompanied by his footsteps.

"I'm in the kitchen, darling!" I called, turning around to find some sugar to sprinkle over the top of the pie.

The sound of footsteps was gone. I moved to turn—an arm slipped around my waist. I smiled.

"Hello, Thomas."

He kissed my cheek, wrapping both arms around my waist. He bent a little to rest his head on my shoulder. I turned in his arms to face him.

"How was Alexander today?"

"Bearable," Thomas said, cracking a smile grin.

I smiled. "I'm glad to hear it."

He let go of me and stepped back and I sprinkled some sugar on the pie. I turned around and almost dropped the jar of sugar.

Thomas was on one knee. His smile could have lit up the whole room.

"Madelyn Callen, my love, my light, my darling, my peacekeeper. Will you marry me?"

"Yes," I whispered.

[MADELYN POV]

One hand held Thomas's as he read aloud, both of us settled into the couch. The other rested on my swollen, eight-months-pregnant belly. Our five-year-old daughter rested her head on my knees, laying on my legs and feet. I moved my hand from my belly to her hair, stroking her soft hair gently.

My first pregnancy with the now five-year-old Martha had been emotional and a bit chaotic. But this one was going smoothly.

At least, that was until I suddenly felt...strange. I knew exactly what it was from Martha's birth.

"Thomas," I said weakly.

He stopped reading. "Yes, Maddie?"

"My water broke."

[JEFFERSON POV]

I paced outside the room, wincing every time I heard Madelyn cry out in pain. Martha clung to me.

"Papa, what's happening to Mama?" she asked quietly.

I crouched down. "She's giving birth your sibling."

"I'm going to have a baby brother?"

"Or sister," I said.

"Brother." She nodded. "I want brother."

I smiled. "We'll see."

I paced throughout the rest of the birth. Martha curled up in a chair and fell asleep for the longest time.

Then the door opened, the doctor smiling. "Mr. Jefferson, you're wife and child are fine." I relaxed. "Your wife is asking for you."

I nodded and stepped into the room.

Madelyn, looking exhausted, was cradling a baby swathed in blue to her chest. I smiled.

"Looks like Martha got her wish of a baby brother, after all," I said.

Madely looked up, smiling. She wiggled into a sitting position, wincing as she did. "Thomas, meet your son, Samuel. Samuel, this is your father."

I picked him up, cradling the precious bundle to me. He stirred in my arms, making a gurgling sound. I smiled widely.

"Hello, Samuel."