Work Text:
There was a knock on the door. Ham went to answer it.
He had been alone at home for the past few weeks trying to get his financial plan through congress, while the Schuyler sisters and co. had been visiting their father upstate. He hadn’t slept in a week.
A somewhat crazed looking woman stood outside the door when he opened it.
“I know you are a man of honor. I’m so sorry to bother you at home, but I don’t where to go and I came here all alone,” she sang as she wiggled her eyebrows.
“W-why are you singing?” He demanded, and then proceeded to poke her glabella. “What’re your eyebrows doing?!”
She jerked backwards, apparently not having expected this completely delirious version of Alexander Hamilton to confront her at the door. She nonetheless soldiered on.
“My husband’s doin’ me wrong, beatin’ me, cheatin’ me, mistreatin’ me,” she continued singing, “suddenly he’s up and gone. I don’t have the means to go on.”
“Oh. That sounds bad,” Ham says, blinking his eyes rapidly to try and stay awake. He proceeds to run around to try and gather every single nickel he can find. About thirty dollars worth. Hammy came back with all of them cradled in his arms like a child, or a watermelon. He flung all of the nickels at her, the way you should not fling a child or a watermelon.
The nickels went everywhere, even some of them landed in the garden. Most of them hit Maria, though. Some of them went down her dress, but one in particular struck her in the eye. She was starting to think this was not the greatest plan. She once again soldiered on.
“Y-you’re too kind sir…” She mumbled, still half singing as she tried to collect the nickels.
“I’ll walk ya home!” He said, throwing his arms around her waist and hoisting her over his shoulder in a somewhat impressive feat of manly strength.
On the way home, he bonked her into a tree, or a building, or a sign about a total of eleven times.
“This one’s m-mine, sir,” Maria said, pointing to the house on the corner of the block.
“Okey dokey!” Ham said, tossing her into a rose bush. He thought it would be a soft landing. It wasn’t. There were thorns. “I should go!” He blurted out, turning on his heels to walk off.
“FOR FUCKS SAKE!” Maria shrieked, taking her stand in the rose bush. “LET’S HAVE SEX ALREADY!”
Ham turns to her with a deer in the headlights expression, except there was no such thing as headlights back then.
“Excuse me?! I am a married man!” He warbled.
“What about that Laurens guy?! Isn’t he your boyfriend??”
“He’s different!” Ham scoffed, folding his arms. With that, he stormed home.