Kingbury one-shots

Spy

Samuel's POV

I don't know how I got here. Well, that's a lie, I know exactly how i got here. I got caught. I'm not exactly sure how I got caught though.  I took all the precautions, changing my name, color contacts, hair colors, all that stuff, yet i still got caught. I was in a dark interrogation room, staring straight ahead at the wall, my face what I hope was stone. My arms were shackled behind me, to the wall. A terrible decision really. I can pick the lock easily, although i don't have the opportunity to escape just yet. I've been observing their patterns, a different interrogator every day at exactly three-o-one and thirty-five seconds.  I glanced at the small clock across the room as it ticked to the last second. The door opened, and my stomach fluttered. good god. 

The man from the square

I kept my face still, noticing the door didn't make the distinct click it did when it closed. It was open. I had an opportunity to escape and make it back to London, and back to George. George, my beautiful husband. It was determined that I was the best candidate for a British spy. He didn't want me to go, but I decided on my own to do so. We haven't had any contact in almost two months, except for short messages through the servants. something we could only understand. The man cleared his throat.

"Mister Jasperson. I am Alexander Hamilton. I am here to help" I raised an eyebrow and slowly moved my hands, taking the bobby pin off my sleeve.

"ARe you now?" I replied sarcastically. He grimaced a little before straightening his papers.

"yes, I am. Are there any things you'd like to confess before I ask a few questions?" he said surely. I smiled a little.

"I'd like to confess that strange men ripped me from my home, I'd like to confess I was beaten for expressing my opinion, I'd like to confess that although I have no connection to any questions you have asked me, you refuse to let me be. I'd like to confess to you that i am not a spy, just an immigrant from London, I'd like to confess that the ring on my finger belongs to someone in which I plan to get back to soon, and I'd like to confess-" the lock snapped open and I let myself grin widely.

"yes?' he prompted.

"I'd like to confess that while we've been talking, I've picked this lock." I took my hands out and knocked him square in the jaw, flinging open the door and sprinting down the hallway. I barely heard the shouts as I kept running towards the exit. O heard gunfire but kept running, knowing they couldn't hit my small moving form. I made it outside and went straight for the woods. The shouts died behind me as I headed straight for new york city, knowing I could finally go back home.

later

I collapsed on the bed in the small gallery room of the boat, exhausted. i had run all the way to the British headquarters to be sent home. They had figured out a new route so it only took a few days to get to England, instead of months. I couldn't wait to see George again, but at this point, I was a tad more excited to sleep in an actual bed.

Georges POV (in England)

I was worried about Samuel. The latest I had heard was that he had been captured by the rebels, and I was terrified. What if he didn't come home? What if they hurt him? I had stayed up through the night fretting over it. I was currently trying to write, but i couldn't focus. I finally put my head in my hands and sighed. I can't do anything without him, can I? There was a knock on the door. I glanced up, hoping it was good news about Samuel.

"Come in," I called. The door opened. Samuel stood in the doorway, eyes tired, disguises put away, his normal clothing adorned on his noticeably smaller frame. I jumped up and ran over, scooping him up and sobbing, pulling him close to me. He squeezed back and let himself cry as well. I pulled back and kissed him, leaning our foreheads together. 

"I missed you," I said quietly, tears still dripping down my face. Smauel smiled back and kissed me again.

"I probably missed you more."