A/N This was kind if a weird AU I thought of. Be warned I wrote this quickly so don't expect greatness. I own nothing of Hamilton and I'm not making money off of this. I'm not great at second person but here goes.
Hope you like it!
This was a big challenge but you're almost done. After your meeting with Angelica you head over to the Hamilton's place. A last swipe of bright red lipstick and you knock on the Hamilton's door. You don't exactly like the red dress Angelica picked out but she did make a good point when saying that wearing yellow might give you away. Even since you were little you were always little yellow Peggy.
"Mrs. Maria, I wasn't expecting you tonight! Please, come in." Alexander opens the door for you, "Come, sit down and wait here. I shall change into something more *suitable*" and with that he leaves you in the Hamilton sitting room. You gaze at the portraits around you, a painting of Alexander, Eliza, and Angelica with the Hamilton's son, Philip catches your eye. If only you could have been there too… But being a secret agent does have its trade offs.
"Now, would you like to come into the bedroom?" Alexander asks, a smug grin on his face. It kills you to see it, you want to close your eyes, to go back, retreat into the innocent Peggy that you were your whole life, but you know how important it is that this go right. Behind the mask of Miss Maria Reynolds you need to get Alexander to forget. Forget about his troubles, forget about Hamilton the man who needs to do his work like a responsible politician, forget about the need to be fair to his wife.
insert your own romantic scene here
The night lasts longer than most, even after Alexander falls asleep you still lie awake thinking about what's to come. Angelica, the brains of the plan, has already got Mr. Reynolds in on it. He doesn't care much, for all he knows we're just using him to get Hamilton blackmailed-he gets money. Mr. Reynolds is married if anyone goes to check, but his wife died mysteriously when Mr. and Mrs. Reynolds tried to go venture West. Most folks who knew of the mysterious death said they had stopped at a ghost town. Angelica had picked the perfect person for our plan. The fateful letter would come anytime in the next week and these long nights would finally be over.
You get up and check the mantel clock, it's about 2:00 in the morning. You leave the note you always leave- Lovely night with you, but alas, I must go before my husband finds out and find all your belongings. Slipping into the night, you rush off to the Schuyler estate, your job for the night completed.