Wait For It?

   Aaron took in a steady breath. He had been on an undercover case, gaining the trust of Jacques Marcus Prevost. Prevost was working for George William Frederick, a British mad man who declared himself king and wanted to conquer America.
   Aaron, being one of, if not the, best spies at Washington's disposal, was assigned the job of investigating just what Prevost knew. Hamilton had bitched to both him and Washington about it for days, but Alexander was way too open to his opinions and too quick to anger, so he was on desk duty as Washington's secretary. And since the only spy that could possibly be better than Aaron, Hercules Mulligan, was already on assignment, the job had been left to Aaron. He was a perfect spy, he always knew how to talk less and smile more, never letting them know where he really stood.
   Aaron, or rather, Daniel Jumel, took another breath and stepped out of his car, and waited for a moment until Prevost met him. He nodded curtly, which Aaron then returned, and followed him once the traitor started walking back in the direction from which he came. After a month and a half of slowly gaining the man's trust was he was finally invited to a meeting with Prevost and one or two other members of this 'Red Coats' coup.
   After several twists and turns lasting for several minutes, they finally made it to a grand house. Burr knew it was Jacques's, it was one of the first things listed in his file. Washington's spies had all been unable to bug it, his security was air tight. That was why they needed him, after all.
   "Make yourself comfortable," Jacques called over his shoulder as he opened the door, already walking into his kitchen, so it seemed. Burr took off his dark (?)periwinkle(?) jacket, draping it over one of the velvet crimson chairs.
   He quickly grabbed three of the small bugs he'd brought with him and tucked them in his back pocket just before Jacques returned to the room, carrying with him two glasses of what appeared to be wine. "Three glasses? Someone can't count," Aaron teased playfully, pouring on the charm as needed as he accepted his glass.
   Jacques chuckled before replying. "And someone seems to forget that he was
/invited/ to a meeting." Just then the doorbell rang, only proving his point more so. "Speak of the devil," Prevost mumbled, opening the door and greeting his guest himself. 'Letting the servants that the night off. He's very secure about this, much smarter than he seems,' Aaron thought to himself as he drank his wine.
  Aaron then mentally proceeded through the rest of the night. There would be the greeting, seem charming, then the meeting, speak rarely, and in half an hour, Laurens and Lafayette would commit a  drive-by, just loud enough to be heard if you were listening, before firing at the house. Aaron hears it, gets everyone down before they get hurt, they all trust him, and he rises in their ranks. Foolproof really. No wonder Washington doesn't want Hamilton in the line of fire with a strategic mind like that. Burr would, of course, deny ever believing that, though.
   Aaron was pulled out of his thoughts as Jacques spoke. "Mr. Jumel, come meet my guest."

Aaron turned to face the door and held out his arm, shaking hands and properly being introduced to a Mr. Nathan Hale. Then, as the turned to face the other visitor, he was struck still.

    She was magnificent, to say the least, a masterpiece from the heavens. She was beautiful, her eyes glimmered in a way that teased at hidden wit, hidden genius. He was speechless. She noticed his unapologetic stare and smiled back warmly. Aaron felt a warm feeling in his stomach. That was new...

    He had been so focused on her that Prevost’s introduction went completely over his head. He was brought back to earth when Prevost chuckled, saying, “What, you plan on stealing my girl, Jumel?” ‘Oh,’ Aaron thought, ‘that explains a lot.’ He felt a little dejected, though he did notice how her expression went somber at “her man.”

    “No, sorry,” he quickly apologized, feeling embarrassed at getting caught. He then turned back to this woman who made him feel so amazingly odd, and his mind went blank again. “Bur--Jumel. Daniel Jumel,” he corrected himself, hoping she would just assume he was cold.