The Founding Fathers Are Stuck With Me (Hamilsquad Into The Future)

Basketball and Fluff

The next day I woke up at 7 am, since I forgot to turn off my alarm, so I decided to give the boys a real taste of my world and made my famous chocolate gravy. I also made some biscuts to go with it, and soon enough it was ready. I mashed up my biscut and put it in my gravy, mixing it around, before putting two biscuts on every boy's plate and setting it at the table. Around 8, each one of them came down the stairs, still in their pajamas.

"Morning, boys," I said. "I finally made breakfast, but don't get used to it. Soon I'll start leaving at 7, so make yourself cereal next time."

"Thanks for the breakfast," John said, pushing his messy hair back. "What is this?"

"Chocolate gravy and biscuts: classic Hope breakfast," I smiled. "I promise you'll like it."

Thomas Jefferson beamed. "My mom used to make this!!!"

"Hell yeah!" I laughed, giving him a high five. "Come on, boys. Let's eat."

We sat down and Alex sat on my left while Sam sat on my right. "Thank you for letting us stay, AJ."

"It's no problem, Washington!" I smiled. "You guys are moving in anyway."

"We are?"

"Yeah."

I finished up my breakfast and looked among the boys. Jefferson looked like he was having flashbacks, James was devouring it, Sam, KG, and Washington were eating elegantly, Alex, John and Herc were eating with absolute joy while they talked and laughed, while Aaron ate in silence.

"You good Aaron? You're really quiet," Washington asked.

"I like to eat first, talk later," Aaron replied, putting a hand over his mouth to keep from spitting food.

"Nice," I said. "Well, I've gotta get dressed. I'll be right back."

I ran upstairs and put on a red, black and white flannel over a gray tank top. I pulled on a pair of skinny jeans and a belt along with a leather jacket. This may seem informal for an FBI, but I usually wear this to work. My pookah necklace fell over my neck and matched the outfit perfectly. I pulled on my black leather boots and ran down the stairs, grabbing my keys. "I'm heading out! Washington, Herc, you know the drill!"

"Yes ma'am!" they replied loudly. As I shut the door I heard Washington say:

"Now listen up-"

~

The moment I got to work I walked into my locker room. I put my leather jacket in my locker and grabbed my FBI jacket, along with my gun and gun holster. The moment I met up with my partner Jared, I knew we were about to go investigate something by the look on his face.

"What's up Jared?" I asked.

"Murder, just off 4th. White male, 5'9, in his 40s, seen on the sidewalk with his throat slit and two bullet wounds in his chest. Decided we would check it out," Jared said, reading from a folder.

"Damn, J. I ate a good breakfast this morning."

~

The homicide wasn't as bad as I had seen but it was still horrible. I worked right up until 3 o'clock, researching and going over everything at the crime scene.

When 3 o'clock rolled around, I grabbed my stuff out of the locker room and headed out, saying bye to Jared heading home.

People think that being an FBI was the coolest job ever, which it is, but you see a lot. You see blood and gore and pure fear. You see all this sick stuff that other people do to each other and you can't stop it. It will never stop. There will never be absolute peace, ever. You see the look in the killer's eyes, and it's always three different things: horror, satisfaction, or insatiate. All three give you chills.