So this isn't a one shot exactly. But I really enjoy this musical, and Hamilton obviously, so I wanted to continue so I could introduce Angel and Mimi at the very least. They're two of my favorites because how can you not love Angel? -C

Lafayette idly beat on the bucket, not quite sure what else to be doing. Nobody seems to be swinging by to drop money into his awaiting hands. However, that's not really the spirit of Christmas, now is it? He's playing just to have fun right now. Most people have retreated to the warmth of their homes sadly. They didn't want to stick it out, he supposes.

He gets into a firmer beat when he hears the first caroler of the night. His smile grows wider as he turns to face them. They look homeless, shivering and shaking. "Christmas bells are ringing."

"That they are," Lafayette pleasantly says to himself. The caroler keeps singing. They have a surprisingly clear voice. He would have expected a more...Sickly tone from the caroler. They clutch at their side as they have gotten shot or something. He's concerned, but he knows better than to go check it out. He's not an idiot. If he went, perhaps Lafayette would emerge with a shiny new stab wound.

All of the sudden, the song gets a little darker. "Somewhere else! Not here!"

It appears that some people just haven't been infected with the holiday spirit yet.

He's about to continue his drumming and his beats when he hears a cough. Lafayette immediately tenses. He really does not want to beat someone up with a ten-gallon pickle bucket, but he can!

The cough turns into a long groan. Okay then. It doesn't seem like he's going to get jumped any time soon. Cautiously, he slips the bucket under one arm and wields the drumstick with another. Beating someone up isn't on his agenda...He would much rather prefer to help them. But it's New York after all. Some strangers don't take kindly to the Frenchman attempting to help them.

The man in the alley is clearly unprepared. He's hunched over, face turning red, and his lips seem to have gathered the sickly, bloody spittle.

What else is there to do?

Lafayette raises his head as he approaches the man. "You okay, honey?"

The man glances around to make sure that he's talking to him. Then, he shrugs slightly and gathers his...Coat sleeve closer to him? Maybe there was a machine malfunction? Nah. Lafayette isn't an idiot. Clearly, the large man got jumped. It's impressive that they got anything off him. "I guess so? Probably?"

"They get any money?" inquires Lafayette, approaching a little faster. He starts fishing around in his pockets for something to clean up the large man. It would be terrible to just leave him a bloody mess. After all...The man is quite attractive.

Again, the man shrugs. "Nope."

"Isn't that good-"

"I have none anyway," he corrects Lafayette before he can say anything.

Lafayette sniggers slightly. "Americans. They do that damage to your coat or did you go for the punk look?"

"Oh, haha. I'm a better tailor than that," the man replies with a smile slipping across his face. "They purloined my coat...But they missed a sleeve so ha! Now that one arm of theirs can be cold."

"You show them, hon," Lafayette replies blithely, fishing in his pocket. Then, he pulls out an American flag.

The man's eyes narrow at it. "You that patriotic?

"Go bleed on America." The two of them exchange smiles as the man presses the flag against his bloodied knee.

He pauses as he wipes up the blood. He almost seems embarrassed as he ducks his head. "Thanks."

"It's Christmas Eve, is it not?" Lafayette has no trouble answering that.

He then leans in closer, breathing in the other man's scent. "I'm Lafayette."

"Lafayette?" The man's voice stumble clumsily over the French syllables.

He shrugs. "I'm French."

"Ah...You definitely have that French charm to you." The man winks at Lafayette, and Lafayette blushes ever so slightly. Today was a real score. He should check out muggings more often.

The man puffs out his chest. "Friends call me Mulligan...But I'm Hercules."

"Well, come on. We can't keep you bleeding for America forever." Lafayette stands up and offers his hand to Hercules. Hercules immediately takes it, and Lafayette smiles at the rush of sparks that overtake his senses. "Let's get a good old-fashioned Band-Aid...And I need to change."

"Why? You're looking quite perfect right now," Hercules continues to flirt, wrapping his arm around Lafayette's shoulders to support himself.

Beaming, the Frenchman offers him a side-long glance. "There's a Life Support meeting at 9:30." He notices the look Hercules gives me. "Yep. My 'perfect' body provides an amazing home for the Acquired Immune Deficiency Syndrome."

Hercules laughs. "As does mine."

"Sweet, we can bond over this," Lafayette cheekily replies. "Come on, we have some errands to run. Get you a coat...I'm hungry...Make the night a perfect night..."

"My friends are waiting," Hercules protests immediately. His eyes look strangely distant when he mentions that. Lafayette muses that he is probably thinking of them. That's probably why he's cradling keys in his left hand. For his friends.

Lafayette presses his finger against Hercules' lips. "You're cute when you blush."

Immediately, Hercules blushes.

Lafayette sways slightly. "Anyway! The more the merry-ho-ho-ho! And...You cannot say no to this."

John is bundling up as slowly as he can. Aaron can clearly tell that he's procrastinating now. He probably knows who's going to be there, working the sound equipment. He probably also knows that Maria will call and tell him to wait another fifteen before he actually gets there. She has no sense of time, sadly.

The curly-haired man glances at him while he wraps the scarf around his neck. "You going to see Maria's show? Or come to dinner?"

"Draw a picture of my empty wallet," Aaron jokingly replies, pressing the pad of paper closer to him as he describes something. He isn't even sure what it is anymore. It's going to end up torn up and tossed into the trash can at the end of the night.

John laughs. "You raise a fair point."

There's a heavy pause. "Take your AZT?"

John watches as his friend huffs slightly and reaches down to grab a water bottle. He grabs out his sketch book and quickly jots down one last picture of Aaron swigging down the water. The caption underneath will probably be the most haunting one of them all.

'Aaron: taking AZT pills. His girlfriend, Theodosia, was never one for words. She left a note saying 'we're got AIDS' before slitting her wrists in our bathroom. Aaron was the one who found her too.'

Love sucks.

Aaron keeps his eyes trained on the door as John slowly leaves. Then, he slowly walks to the balcony to think. His poem dangles loosely between his fingers.

Alex had always been the one obsessed with legacy. He wanted to be the one who leaves something that future generations would admire. That's what he was doing right now too. But Aaron? Aaron had never thought too much about his legacy. Now, Alex was going to be the one who lived. He was going to be the one who died.

And he wanted to leave something behind.

Aaron knows what Alex thinks legacy is. You never get to see it. You never know what it will be. Sure, John will tell the story of his friend, Aaron, who died. It's not Hercules will. He might even die before Aaron. Maria might as well. They've have a buddy-buddy friendship ever since Aaron told Alex to shove off when he was cheating on John with her. Maria trusted Aaron to defend her.

Who will be her knight when he's gone?

God, he truly wasted opportunity there. People don't even know him. His front has always been a smile. Talk less, smile more.

He writes a line idly in his notebook thinking about her.

Theodosia was his legacy for such a long time. She was his world. She held everything good about it close to her heart. He gave her his for sure, not even caring about the risks. He knew that Theodosia was married, but he never did care.

He didn't expect her husband to have given her HIV. Theodosia was the brightest thing under the cheap colored lights. She could make the whole world explode if she wanted to. She just...Never wanted to. She could make the sun rise, but her most devastating action was when she let the sun fall on them. And now, Aaron's life was so surprisingly empty.

What was even the point? They had so much time. Alex was the one who acted like he was running out of time. But no. All along, it was Aaron who was slowly running out of time.

His fire has been going out for the longest time. He was never meant to live that long, was he? His parents had died, snuffling out their fires long before he could even dream to know them. Their legacy was passed to him, weighing down on him.

Aaron forces another line in the notebook, not caring if it sounds good or not. His legacy can be a poem or a story. He can write something better than Alexander, better than what Theodosia expected of him. It would be...Gritty, like John always wanted to say. Truthful and exposing the harshness of life.

'Dear Theodosia,

What to say to you?'

That's good, Aaron supposes. But is it good enough? Will it actually make a difference? Does it...Does it capture his soul? The way he loves? The way he thinks? Nobody really took the time to know that. John knows that Aaron isn't outgoing. But his friend doesn't even know the half of it. The young man has been withering from the inside out much longer than he got the virus that's eating away at him.

This poem could redeem all of the time he waited for it, but it never mattered!

'You had stunning eyes-'

The door suddenly gets pounded on. Great. He walks in, chucking the pad upon the couch.

   Peggy's cold. She shakes slightly, trying to warm up her candle by body motion. Her sister's old coat can only protect her so much.

   And anyway...She's seen the people who live above her. They're quite handsome. A smile flickers across her face. Eliza has Alex. Angelica has Maria. And Peggy will be getting her own sort of guy.

   The door swings open. "What did you forget, Jo-"

   "Got a light?" Peggy interrupts, thrusting the waxen candle in his face. She knows this guy. He's always writing poems on the balcony. Peggy doesn't stalk him, per say, but she certainly doesn't mind watching the creative process...If you catch her drift.

   The man blinks several times at her, stunned. "I know you...Wait. You're shivering."

   His warm hand reaches out and touches her bare arm. Peggy smirks slightly before pushing past the man, into the room. "It's nothing. I told my sisters to stop paying for my heat, and lo and behold...I don't have heat!"

Peggy attempts to twirl, but she ends up tripping on her own feet. Sheepishly, she smiles at her neighbor. "And I'm a little klutzy. Not the charm and grace of the family."

   "Oh-"

   Peggy gently glides the candle across her leg, pretending to scratch something. "Won't you light my candle?"

"What are you staring at?" She bolts straight up and smiles at his flustered face.

The man splutters a little, clearly not expected Peggy's boldness. She truly gets that a lot. Compared to her elegant sisters, she's the black sheep of the family.

   Quickly, the man pulls out a match from his waistline. Peggy leans forward, pretending to try and-He shoves her away slightly before lighting the candle. Peggy grins savagely.

The man backs up, as if he's the offender in the situation. "Nothing! But your hair is an awful like Elizabeth Schuyler's in the moonlight-"

Peggy pretends to fall over, desperate to not talk about her sister. It seems bit like a backhanded compliment too. Her hair in the moonlight? No duh its dazzling! It's beautiful!

He wraps his hands around her waist, hoisting her upwards. She grins. Yeah, feel that hot look on her back.

Clearing his voice, he subtly puts her down. "Are you going to die?"

"I just haven't..." She licks her lips. "Eaten much today. But trust me, dude, the room looks much better when it stops spinning...Or maybe it's just because you're in it."

Peggy winks at him. "What?"

"Nothing!" He holds his hands up in mock surrender. "Your smile...It's really familiar. It reminds me-"

"Of who?" Peggy purrs, tracing her fingers up his side. The man immediately backs up again, hitting the wall. Wow. Prude much? Peggy smiles as she reminds her own reluctance to go downtown. A lot has changed since she was that innocent child.

Eliza? Angelica? Maria?

"She died...Her name was Theodosia," he heavily breathes out.

That took an unexpected-Wait! Maria told her about her roommates. This is Aaron! Ha! She knew that he looked familiar! He was one of the many photos of Maria's friends!

She turns away slightly, feeling the tension cracking in the air. Then, Peggy blows out her candle. Aaron makes a noise, a question starting to form. Peggy thrusts the candle out. "Oh, crap. Wind blew it out. Uh, sorry about Theo."

   Aaron opens his mouth to speak again.

   "Would you light my candle?" Peggy puts it in his face. Once more, the man pulls it out and strikes a flame up. He gently lights the candle.

   She grins at him sweetly, trying a different approach. A more innocent approach. Aaron blushes and almost seems like he likes what he sees. He likes this more...Sensitive side of her, Peggy muses. She tosses that around in her head.

   Then, pain flares up in her fingers. "Ow!"

   Aaron glances down at her hand as Peggy shakes it out. She likes the rush, but she doesn't enjoy the burn. He places his hand over hers. "Oh, I'm sorry. Do you have something to hold the candle? Because the wax is-"

   "Dripping," Peggy replied enthusiastically. She snakes one leg up. "I like it, between my fi-"

   "Fingers!" Aaron quickly finishes. He gently pats her hand. "Well, nice to meet you. I assume you'll be going now."

   "Goodnight," Peggy tosses over her shoulder before trooping off to the door. She's halfway out the door when she pauses sharply. One hand starts fishing around in her pocket. Where is it? God, where is it?

   She swivels, her yellow skirt flaring out. The wind whooshes around her, blowing out the candle's fuse. Then, Peggy marches back inside.

   Aaron seems conflicted. "You're back?"

   "I dropped my stash. It cost me a lot, so..." Peggy drops to her knees to start searching for it.

   Confusedly, the man sits on the end table. His eyes examine her more closely. "Are you sure I don't know you? I've seen your face around...But not necessarily your face, if you get that."

   "That makes no sense," Peggy grumbles, launching herself underneath on the end table.

   Laughing slightly, the man pauses. "If you stopped moving, your candle wouldn't have gone out, you know."

   "I could care less about the candle. I can just start another fire of pictures. But my stash! I walked in the door with it...Move your foot!" Peggy swats at his heel.

   Lifting his slipper off the ground, Aaron takes a long breath. "Wait, the..."

   His voice trails off as Peggy bounces forward to look there. She can feel the heat of his gaze again. She gently wiggles herself. "You ever heard the rumors about me?"

   "Uh, yeah?" He is probably blushing. Peggy knows that Aaron isn't one with words.

   Peggy smiles to herself. "Are they true?"

   "W-what?"

   Peggy whirls around, hands firmly on her hips. A smirk spreads across her lips. "You're staring again."

   "Uh, not about that," Aaron emphasizes that. Peggy smiles at the way he doesn't want to use any profanity. Peggy is sure that it's often used to describe her though.

   Aaron finally breathes out. "Do you have any sisters? Because I know you somewhere...You're familiar."

   "Because of your dead girlfriend?" Peggy scoffs.

   Aaron leans down. "Only with that smile...The more innocent of the smiles."

   Peggy sweetly smiles at him.

   "But...I know I've seen you somewhere else."

   "You look like the kind to be reliable with the ladies. You ever swing by the Cat Scratch Club? I dance there." Peggy waggles her hips.

   Aaron smiles. "That's it! Oh yeah! Didn't they used to-"

   "I'm more advanced than that now...Oh, don't give me that judgmental look. You're just like them. It's a living," Peggy snaps.

   He pretends to handcuff himself. "I didn't recognize you."

   Peggy giggles. Then, she holds up her candle. "I can't look without it burning. Can you light it?"

   "I can just give you your 'stash' when I find it," Aaron suggests. "You're a little young."

   "You're one to talk!" Peggy shoots back, beaming. "What are you, sixteen?"

   "Nineteen," Aaron corrects.

   She thumps her chest. "Same, dude. I'm old for my age though...It comes with being a bad influence. I used to be cute and innocent, but hey. I matured."

   "I used to be innocent too..." Aaron murmurs.

   Peggy smiles. "Yeah?"

   "I also used to shiver like that."

   "Don't turn this conversation around-"

   "I used to sweat."

   She fake-coughs. "I have a cold."

   "I used to be a junkie." Aaron pulls up his sleeve as if to show them off.

   Peggy stands up abruptly. "It's a way to forget the expectations, okay? It's hard hearing that kind of baggage you know."

   Always being 'and Peggy'. Not Peggy. Eliza's sister. Angelica's sister.

   Aaron suddenly dips down to scoop something off the ground. Peggy pounces forward, beaming. "What's that?"

   "John likes to eat a lot of candy. Has a sweet tooth," Aaron dismissively says.

   Peggy holds out her hand while bringing the candle closer to investigate. "Then you won't mind me looking."

   He huffs out to blow out her candle. Aha! Suspicion made correct! "What'd you do with my candle?"

   His hand snakes to his back pocket. Then, Aaron plops back down on his coffee table. "Oops. We used the rest of our matches to burn crap down."

   Peggy nods, running to the curtains and flinging them open. Aaron laughs slightly at her energy. She then smiles and winks at him. Plopping down, she scoots closer and closer to him. "The moonlight provides a nice light. Don't you think?"

   "It might not be the moon. I heard-"

   "Don't be a spoil sport. It's Christmas," Peggy interrupts, scooting closer to cuddle...And pull out her stash from his back pocket.

   Aaron lays his hands across her to stop her. "Cold hands."

   "Yours too. But look at how small they are!" Peggy yanks them upwards to examine them. She pretends to scoff. "What kind of man you are?"

   "I don't know?" Aaron deflects the question easily.

   She claps her hands together. "I get it! You're a politician! My daddy is a politician!"

   She can practically see the gears whirling in his head. She's familiar. She's got sisters. Her dad's a politician.

   Peggy stands up and whirls on her feet. "Wanna dance?"

   "That's a sudden change." Still, Aaron stands up. "It doesn't matter though. I don't dance."

   "Why not?"

   He shrugs.

   She giggles. "Big fan of standing there and looking pretty?"

   "I'm Aaron," he says instead, shooting down her flirting.

   She shrugs. "I knew."

   "And I don't know you? What a disadvantage I am at," Aaron dryly informs her.

   She stalks forward, throwing her arms around his neck as if to dance. "They call me..."

   "Yeah?"

   Her hands glide to his back pocket. Her fingers close around her stash. "They call me...Peggy...Peggy Schuyler."

   She then pushes him away, twirling and waving the small baggie in the air. With that, Peggy runs out of the apartment giggling. She can feel Aaron's inquisitive gaze on her back.

   Let the chaos begin.