Requested by: ruff1258

Alexander would have wanted to be anywhere but on the way to his opponents home. After years of hearing how spectacular his home had built, how glorious the view was, all of it, he decided to give Mr.Jefferson a visit.

Tapping his knuckles against the inside of the moving carriage, he surveyed the fields on the plantation. For as far as he could see, there was grass. Wondering how the man could possibly manage to maintain the land, he got his answer.

Slaves. Alexander silently cursed at himself for forgetting how much his rival encouraged putting others to work. Tens to hundreds of them roamed the fields, doing all the backbreaking work. Some braved to look up and see who was arriving.

They were surprised when the man in the carriage gave them sympathetic looks. Much less actually looking in their direction or recognizing their struggles. One of them raised their hand as if to thank the man. But he was already swept away by the power of the carriage, nearing closer to the house.

The door to the carriage opened for Alexander and he peered his head around the corner to see a young boy, around fourteen, holding it open for him. Something was peculiar about this child though. Unlike the other slaves on the land, this one had light skin.

Realizing he had been staring, Alexander murmured his thanks to the boy before walking up the steps of the home. Before he could even knock, the door opened for him. He blinked a few times as he laid eyes on the person standing in the doorway.

A woman, hair pulled back into a ponytail, sweat stained face, had answered the door. Of what he knew, Alexander was aware that Martha, the wife to the man whom he despised, had died several years ago. If she was long gone, then who was this woman?

The thought had barely crossed his mind when a voice from behind the woman. "Who's here, dear?" Alexander coughed, almost choking on his own salvia. Dear?

And there he was. Dressed in his very best, was Jefferson. When he laid eyes on the man on his doorstep, his eyes widened. He took hold of the woman's arm, practically shoving her behind him, as if it was to protect her.

Alexander frowned, straightening up his posture. Two thoughts came to him. One, that wasn't the way to treat a woman, no matter her skin color. And two, he wasn't that much of a threat as everyone on the opposite party made him seem.

"Did I happen to arrive at an inconvenient time?" He crossed his arms, waiting for an answer. If this was something he could hold against Jefferson in the future, he most certainly would take note of it.

Thomas cleared his throat. "Not at all. Won't you come in?" He stepped aside, so the other man could step inside. Alexander looked back at the carriage before giving a smug expression.

"My pleasure."

Once he was barely two steps into the home, before he even had time to take in the supposedly fantastic structure, Jefferson pulled him along. "If you're interested in discussing something, let us do so in my study."

As he practically pulled the shorter man along beside him, Alexander tried to take in his surroundings. He only got a glimpse of some sculptures and paintings. However, just as he was pushed around a corner, he spotted some children on the second floor. Interesting.

The door to the study shut abruptly behind him, as Jefferson showed him where to go. It was quite magnificent, though Alexander would never admit such a thing. Compared to his own study, it was widespread and well supplied with paper and books.

"Something on your mind, Alexander?"

Alexander spun in a circle a few times, just to annoy the other man even more. He let out a long sigh before saying, "You wrote to me a few weeks saying you wanted to talk in private about the cabinet discussion. Which we shouldn't even be talking about without Washington-"

"And is he here?"

Taken aback, Alexander muttered, "No." He couldn't believe how cold the man was being in his own home. There were children barely a door away. He couldn't seem to get them off his mind.

"We don't have to discuss that actually. I have something much more important on my mind, Thomas," he spat in the taller man's face.

Jefferson chuckled. "I'm listening."

Praying to the heavens above he wouldn't mess up or go overboard, Alexander said, "Well, I noticed there was some children watching us from the second level in your home." When the other man looked shocked, he finished with, "I don't believe you've forgotten how observant these eyes can be."

Silence. That was all he received. Thomas groaned, sinking down into a nearby chair, barely meeting his guest's eyes. "I knew this would eventually come back to me."

"Why are you asking for sympathy with that tone? I remember you crying over your wife dying barely a few years ago. And now I see you have most certainly moved on." Alexander took a daring step forward. He didn't care if he was taunting the man. He needed answers.

Jefferson rubbed his eyes before replying, "Let me just explain. Those children you saw, well, they're mine."

"Hah!" Alexander pointed an accusing at his opponent. The tension in the room was growing by the second.

"Oh please, that's not all. After Martha passed away, I found myself in a dark place." He seemed exhausted, leaning back in his chair, completely pained by his own words.

Alexander muttered under his breath, "Do you mean underneath a slave's skirts?" He barely got to say anything more, for Jefferson rose from his chair. The once seemingly tired man was now wide awake.

"Say it to my face next time, you bastard!" He sized up the man, face to face with him. But he obviously wasn't that intimidating to stop the next insult.

"So this is the real Jefferson. The one who fathers the children of his own slave and-"

A nerve inside Thomas snapped and he felt his pulse rise. "She's not just a slave! Her name is Sally!" Almost wanting to cry, he walked to the study door, opening it for him.

Alexander wasn't done though. "Do you even know any of the hundreds of slaves names that work all day for you? Of course you only take notice to the woman who you got pregnant."

"Out of my house! Now!" Thomas was the type of man to argue, but not to yell. His loud outburst shook the roof and probably the children upstairs. Alexander didn't even look at the man as he stormed out.

Still standing in the hallway, was the mysterious woman now with a name. Sally, his mind reminded him. Alexander wondered what her life was like before she found herself in the clutches of a demanding white man.

Sally looked like she wanted to say something, but the second she heard the distance sound of footsteps, she refrained from doing so. Instead she watched the man storm out, leaving a trail of possibilities in his path.

And then she let out the longest sigh. Her life had been flipped upside down in so little time and it seemed unreal. No matter how she would go down in history, she promised to stay true to herself until the end of days.

. . . . . . . . . .
A/N: Thank you ruff1258 for the request! I had a great time writing this, especially since there's context about the whole Jefferson & Hemings thing.