Found the start of a fic in my notes, should I continue it?

An AU where Maria reminds Alexander of Peggy, and he doesn’t eff it all up

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Jefferson was being stalked.

Even in the crowded Philadelphia streets, he could detect the lurking presence, though not due to any skill on his own part. Half a foot and a corner of a distinctively flowing greatcoat poked out from behind a nearby alleyway, and even over the clatter of carriages and oinking of wandering pigs, he could hear what sounded like unsuccessfully repressed laughter. He sighed heavily.

Jefferson liked Hamilton about as much as Hamilton liked him, which was not very much at all. However, Jefferson treated their political differences like any gentleman would. Their debates on politics could be intense and Hamilton’s monarchical vision was profoundly corrupt, but on the street and around the dinner table, Jefferson treated him politely.

The same could not be said of Hamilton. Starting in Washington’s second term, when snow had fallen, Jefferson had been pelted by snowballs. The first time it happened, he had assumed it was some mischievous child. The second time, when his hat was knocked into the slush, a cackle, clearly from Hamilton, rang out.  It soon became a familiar sound. Whenever the man got the chance, he lobbed snowballs at Jefferson from the shadows like a coward. It made sense, considering Hamilton’s anonymous articles in the papers.

It was childish beyond words. So childish, in fact, Jefferson found the behavior unworthy of acknowledgement. He never ran after the culprit or retaliated. In fact, he was convinced Hamilton had no idea he’d been found out.

He picked up the pace, and when he glanced back over his shoulder, Hamilton had disappeared. Probably trying to find a better position.

What kind of man would do this? It was such a petty form of vengeance. As much as Hamilton disgusted him with his strange combination of timidity and aggression, snowballing men he disliked was just…so…how could Washington trust him so absolutely?!

If only…Perhaps he could…

Well…

He imagined Hamilton dripping with melted snow, puffing with embarrassment and anger. Getting a taste of the meanness he threw at people without regard for decency.

Jefferson changed his route, slowing. He caught a glimpse of Hamilton in the reflection of a window. He was careful, making sure to move just fast enough so that Hamilton could not yet throw his snowball, and just far away enough that he wouldn't  giving up the chase.

Luckily, his fellow cabinet member was determined. Likely blindly determined. Jefferson took a sharp turn around a hat shop, nearly bumping into the trunk of a snow-covered tree. Just what he was looking for. It’s bows were bent with the weight, and as Jefferson maneuvered around, chunk fell off to the ground.

Jefferson positioned himself behind the tree and waited, stretched out long arms to the highest, widest branches he could reach. How was he doing this? But there was no time for hesitation. Hamilton’s footsteps already crunched from behind the building.

He barely got a look at Hamilton as he stepped within range, then tugged hard, snapping twigs and bending the trunk. There was an unmanly shriek, and Hamilton was hidden under a hissing waterfall of white.

In the abstract, getting revenge on Hamilton was a delight. In reality, Jefferson felt like he’d sullied himself. Hamilton would deny his own behavior, naturally.  He would point the finger at Jefferson and accuse him him the little boy without a sense of decency.  This petty behavior should have been beneath him. Swallowing, Jefferson walked out from behind the tree.

Hamilton lay on the ground, clutching his stomach. He was practically buried in snow.

“Hamilton?!”  Jefferson knelt in the snow. Of course this would happen. A branch must have fallen and caused real harm. Equally frustrated and concerned, he grabbed Hamilton’s convulsing shoulder and turned him. “Are you injured?”

Tears glimmered in Hamilton’s eyes. He tried to speak, but only let out choking gasps. Shaking, he barely managed to sit up, only to fall on all fours again. This time, he did manage to making a sound: a hysterical laugh.

Jefferson stared.

Hamilton was literally rolling on the ground with laughter, unable to stand from their uncontrollable force.

“Jefferson,” he managed, as Jefferson backed away. “I can’t…did you really just…Hehe…haha!” It took some time before he tried to speak again. He managed to stand, but boldly held on to Jefferson to steady himself. “How…how long were you planning this?! I can’t believe you-!”  He buried his face in Jefferson’s chest and broke into more laughter. Jefferson was covered in snow now.  “I had no idea! How long did you know I was following you? Have you been planning this for long? Oh my goodness, haha!”

He looked up, eyes shining. His face was red from the cold, and the warm tears had cut trails in the powdery snow on his cheeks. “I didn’t know you had it in you! That was brilliant! Oh, God bless you, Jefferson.” Hamilton pulled back and gave Jefferson an affectionate smack in the arm, grinning. “No one’s going to believe me.”

Jefferson stared dumbly. Hamilton had never never looked at him with an expression like this, of pure delight.

Hamilton shook his head, still giggling. “I had better get home. Good evening, Mister Jefferson!” He started walking back, then stopped, grabbed a handful of snow, and launched it. It splattered on Jefferson’s shoulder. He laughed again, waved, and zipped around the corner..

Long after Hamilton’s footsteps had faded away, Jefferson stared at the pile of snow and the small footprints surrounding it.