The Not-So-Secret-Santa (pegtha)
Summary: When one has the trademark loudmouths, Thomas Jefferson, Hercules Mulligan, and Alexander Hamilton, in on a game that requires secretiveness… let’s just say, things don’t go as planned. Prompt: Secret Santa Beginning Notes: more christmas gays!
When Angelica Schuyler walked into the coffee shop her group of friends─and little sisters─frequented, she commanded attention. Especially judging from the way a scowl painted her gorgeous features, and her eyes seemed narrowed into thin, angry slits. Now, it may just be James Madison’s imagination playing tricks on him, but the young man is almost a thousand percent sure that the entire─extremely busy, what with it being colder than a well digger’s ass outside─coffee shop goes silent when she enters.
“Angelica!” Eliza says, looking up from where she’d been texting Alexander─who, out of their merry band of friends, was the only one not in attendance─and waving her sister over. “Over here!”
Angelica maneuvers her way through the crowd of people─but not before stopping briefly at the cash register to order a coffee─and joins the group sitting in the back. They’ve somehow managed to crowd themselves into the only booth big enough to fit all twelve of them─and even so, several people have pulled chairs up to the table in order to fit comfortably. Angelica takes a chair from Lafayette─who goes to drape themselves over the laps of Hercules and George─and slams her coffee cup down onto the table.
“Where the hell is Alexander? And Samuel, King and Charles?” she asks with an edge to her voice, noticing the absence of bickering that usually went on between her brother-in-law and his frenemies. None of them were anywhere in sight. “I thought I told you that I need all of you here.”
“Alex got caught up at the station,” Eliza says, pausing to take a sip of coffee. “And those three had to go and meet Charles’ parents for lunch. Sammy just told me to text him whatever you needed to tell us and he’d relay it to the group.”
Sighing at her friends total inability to follow simple instructions, Angelica looks around at the people that were there. Thomas, James and Aaron had all managed to show up─which was a feat in and of itself. For a polyamorous couple, it seemed very rare that anyone managed to catch more than two of them together at a time. There was always one out of the three missing─at work, running errands, out of town.
George was there, as well, which was pretty shocking. He was so busy with being a congressman most of the time that he was hardly ever around─so much so that for the first year of his relationship with Hercules and Lafayette, Angelica had thought it was just those two. She hadn’t even known that George was a part of their romance until she attended a housewarming party for Peggy and accidentally walked in on three of them getting hot and heavy in a closet.
And Peggy. Peggy always seemed to be working at her actual job─she worked at the very cafe that Angelica told them to meet in─or on her youth programs. She─along with John Laurens, who seemed very zoned out on whatever he was doodling on the cafe napkins─was an activist that ran several non-profit charities for youth. Big Brother, Big Sister mentoring guides for LGBTQ+ kids, scholarship programs for inner-city kids and all-girls empowerment summer camp for preteen and teenage girls. The poor woman was so busy with all of these endeavors that it was rare that Angelica and Eliza were able to get together with her, which is why Angelica chose her lunch break during work to meetup with the gang.
“What’s up, Angie? Why’d you need us all here?” Thomas asks, snapping the woman from her reverie. Angelica exhales, looks around at the group one last time before making sure to turn her attention to her sisters.
“Mom and Dad called me last night. They said we won’t be having our annual family Christmas like usual,” she pauses here to gauge her sisters reactions, and is surprised to not find the level of distress that she thought she would. Both girls seem pretty bummed, but not as devastated as she’d expected. “So, I was wondering if the rest of you were busy this Christmas, and if not, if we could plan something for us here. Like a family.”
“Well, my Dad doesn’t want me bringing these two back if I go down to Virginia for Christmas, so I’m pretty freed up,” George says, adding a packet of artificial sweetner to his coffee in an attempt to look bored─though everyone sitting at the booth can tell just how hurt he is at this. “Hercules just has James here and Marie said she can’t go back to France.”
“My grandmother… when I told her I was trans, she uh… she told me that she never wanted to see my face again. However, Adrienne is coming into town. If I celebrate with you all, can she come as well?” Marie asks, leaning her head on the heel of her hand. Angelica waves her hand in dismissal, though she can tell by the way Marie’s eyes light up that she’s made her friend extremely happy.
“That’s absolutely fine, hon. What about you guys?” Angelica nods towards the end of the booth, where Thomas, Aaron and James were chatting quietly amongst themselves. They all look up in confusion─making it obvious to the woman that they hadn’t been paying attention. “Doing anything for Christmas?”
“Well,” Aaron begins. “I usually spend my Christmas’ watching Lifetime movies and eating takeout, so… no. I’m free.”
“Ever since Herc and I’s parents passed, I just spend it doing whatever Hercules does. Why?”
“I’m not going back to Virginia this year, my mother has a new boyfriend and I don’t really feel like being around all that mess.”
“Good. You’re spending the holidays with us. Alright, I’ve got Marie, Thomas, Adrienne, James, Hercules, George, and myself. Eliza, Peggy?” Angelica begins scribbling the names down on a notepad from her purse, formulating a guest list so that she’d know how much cooking she’d need to do for the holiday at hand.
“I’m down, but can I bring Martha? She’s like the Scrooge of Christmas─hates the holidays. I wanna show her true Christmas joy, y’know. It’ll be romantic. Might even get laid.” John audibly groans at how cliche Peggy sounds, before reminding her that she’s talking about his stepsister─so show a little decorum. The woman sticks her tongue out at him, and Angelica laughs at the two before agreeing.
“Well, since Martha is going… John you might as well go,” Eliza says, looking to her boyfriend─who wrinkles his nose. “C’mon. Alex and I are definitely going, and you know you don’t want to go back to South Carolina for Christmas. It’ll be fun! We can do Secret Santa!”
“Ooh, yes!” Marie exclaims, removing her sketchpad from her satchel. She flips to an empty page and begins scribbling everyone’s names down. “Okay… Angelica, let me see your beanie.”
Angelica hands over the hat, eyebrow raised. With careful and precise fingers, Marie rips the paper with the names into small little shreds─each shred of paper holding someone’s name. She folds them in half before dumping them all into the beanie.
“I’m adding Charles, King and Sammy in here… Eliza, you can pick for the three of them and text them who they got,” Marie says, dumping the shreds of paper into the hat and mixing them around. “John, you pick for Alex but don’t look at who he got, alright? Just give him the paper when you see him. Rules for the Secret Santa? You obviously can’t tell the person you’re buying for that it’s you, no going over thirty dollars for materials, no buying gift cards, and you have to make it.”
There’s voices of protest at the last rule, but the look Marie sends the group could rival Angelica’s. It doesn’t, of course, because Angelica is the queen of glaring─but it could.
Marie takes a slip of paper from the hat before passing it to Hercules, who repeats the motion. The beanie goes around the table until it ends with George removing the last piece of paper.
Angelica grins at the name on her piece of paper. Eliza and Thomas both groan─probably because the people they chose are difficult to shop for. Peggy does a fist pump, John smiles wistfully, James, George and Aaron seem to be indifferent either way, and Hercules gives a smile that says ‘oh, this will be very fun’.
“Who did you get?” John asks his girlfriend, as he, Eliza and Alex push their cart around the crafts shop. They’d all agreed to go shopping for their materials at the same time, in the same place─to save money, and gas. However, the young brunette sitting in the cart is quickly becoming to regret agreeing upon that─seeing as this is the sixth time John has asked her this question, and Alexander had asked twelve times before. Eliza looks up at him with an expression that can only be described as a mixture between ‘offense’ and ‘exhaustion’. “What? I’m just curious!”
“Yeah, and curiosity killed the cat,” she teases, before directing him to turn down the aisle that has yarn. “I’ve already said this, John! I can’t tell you! It’s called a Secret Santa! What if you tell them that I’m the one making their present? Geez, I know you’re a rebel, but it can’t be this hard for you to follow the rules.”
“Wow. You’re really passionate about the do’s and don’ts of Secret Santa, aren’t you?” he asks, as she directs him to put some navy blue yarn in the cart. She nods her head just as Alexander comes bolting towards them with arms full of markers, crayons, colored pencils and pens.
“Alex! You’re supposed to be shopping for materials for your Secret Santa, not thing you like,” Eliza chastises playfully, before squeaking in indignance when he dumps all the materials on her.
“Shut up. I’m making John a poster,” he says.
“Alex!” Eliza whines, and John laughs loudly. Well, at least he could trust that his gift would be made with love.
Lafayette sits cross-legged in the middle of their living room, hands gently maneuvering the clay on the pottery wheel. Their eyes are concentrated on the machine, all of their attention focused on the design of the clay to make the shape they want.
“Laffy, I’m sorry darlin’, but I’m curious. Who in the hell would want a homemade clay pot?” George asks, looking down at them from his spot on the couch. He’d been focused on CNN news, but the gentle whirring of the machine had drawn his attention several minutes ago and the curiosity had been eating at him. Lafayette doesn’t offer a response, simply shrugs their shoulders and continues to gently knead the clay on the wheel. “I can’t think of anyone in our group that would find use for that.”
“Then you’re not thinking hard enough,” they respond calmly, reaching their hand into the opening in order to manipulate the shape even further. George opens his mouth to retort something equally as sassy, but Hercules enters their apartment at that very moment─arms filled to the brim with varying colors of yarn─soft pinks and blues, bright neon greens and yellows… and just as George is confused as to who in their circle of friends would want a flower pot, he is confused as to who would want all those colors clashing together.
“Y’know, mo chroí, you’re an awfully hard person to drum up ideas for,” Hercules says, dumping the materials beside George on the couch to press a kiss to their forehead. Lafayette gives a squeal of annoyance at Hercules having revealed who he was Secret Santa-ing to; and by relation having revealed who Lafayette’s Secret Santa is.
“Herc, mon coeur! It was supposed to be a surprise, non?” they exclaim, finally tearing their eyes away from their pottery. “You’ve ruined it for me!”
“Aw man, I’m sorry, Laf!” Hercules responds, plopping down beside them on the floor. At first George believes he’s being sarcastic, but when his eyes land on his boyfriend’s face, he can tell that he’s genuinely apologetic. It’s cute, how he recognizes the importance of this to Lafayette and respects that. “This Secret Santa thing slipped my mind.”
“Hey, darlin’, the surprise isn’t entirely ruined,” George pipes up, easing down onto the floor with the other to. “You don’t know what he’s going to make. I promise, I’ll help Herc hide whatever he’s making for you, so that you can be surprised on Christmas. Sound good?”
And though Lafayette is still pouting, both men can tell that this considerably makes it better.
“I don’t even know Maria that well!” Thomas exclaims for what seems to be the billionth time since they got who they’d be making presents for, as he scrolls through ideas for gifts on Pinterest. “Why can’t I just buy her something? It’d be so much easier!”
“Firstly, Thomas, the whole point of Secret Santa was for us not to know who you’d be making a present for,” Aaron reprimands, for what seems to be the billionth time in response to Thomas’ complaining. He’s making what seems to be personally designed coffee mugs─using blank templates and markers designed for ceramic art to design them. He’d been pretty good at hiding who his present was for, though Thomas can just barely make out a ‘G’ on one of the mugs. “Secondly, you’re supposed to make it because it’s supposed to come from the heart. These aren’t just our friends, they’re our family, too.”
“That’s lame,” the Virginian huffs, tossing his phone onto the coffee table. He dramatically drapes himself over the armrest of their couch, tossing his arm over his eyes like the drama queen he is. “Why can’t I just pay someone to make something for me?”
“Can I pay someone to kick your ass? Maybe then you’d stop complaining,” Aaron murmurs under his breath, picking up another marker to doodle something on the coffee mug. Surprisingly, he’s met with silence─until his phone chimes with a notification. Curiously, Aaron picks up his phone to read it─finding that it’s from Facebook.
Thomas Jefferson ─ with Maria Reynolds, Angelica Schuyler and 15 others.
Need help coming up with ideas for Maria’s Secret Santa present… anyone care to help out?
“Goddamnit, Thomas, it’s supposed to be a Secret!” James yells from the other room─obviously having got the notification as well. Thomas gives a groan of annoyance at this, probably remembering that tagging the person you’re going to be Secret Santa-ing for is not the smartest idea.
“But keeping it secret is hard!”
“Looks like I won’t have to pay anyone to kick your ass,” Aaron chuckles, setting his phone down and glancing towards his boyfriend. Both Thomas and Aaron’s phones are blowing up with notifications─though neither of them need to check them to see it’s probably their group of friends reprimanding him on sharing who he was supposed to be the Secret Santa for. Thomas quirks an eyebrow, and his lover finishes with, “Angelica is probably going to do it for me.”
By the time Christmas Day rolls around, most of the people in the group participating know who their Secret Santa is─and those that don’t know for sure at least have some sort of inkling. What with loudmouths Alexander Hamilton, Hercules Mulligan and Thomas Jefferson letting everyone know not only who their gifts were for, but who their spouses gifts were for and gossips Peggy and Maria spreading around rumors as to who made presents for who… yeah, the whole idea of the Secret Santa actually being a secret was moot.
And Angelica was quick to let the perpetrators know just how disappointed she was in them for not being able to hold water.
“Well,” she says, after they’ve all retired to her living room following a pretty amazing Christmas dinner. Her eyes travel over their faces─and at least most of the culprits have the decency to look ashamed. “This was supposed to be a Secret Santa, but thanks to a select few that can’t seem to let anyone enjoy anything… you might as well tell you who brought your gift for that it was you. I’ll start.”
Crossing over to the Christmas tree, Angelica removes a small wrapped box and hands it to Peggy’s girlfriend, Martha. “I looked up how to transfer photographs onto wood, and then I got this picture from Peggy. It didn’t come out as good as I thought it would, but I figured you would like it.”
It’s a professionally taken photo─probably taken by Charles who was a photographer. The two women were on the beach, and Martha had her arms draped over Peggy’s shoulders. Peggy’s hand came up in the photo to hold Martha’s, and her head was turned just slightly to the side to press a kiss against her cheek. Martha had that picture posted across all of her social media accounts─it was her profile picture for Instagram, Facebook, Twitter… she’d told Peggy countless times that it was her favorite photograph.
“Aw, Angie, I love it!” Martha exclaims, taking the block of wood from her adopted sister. “Thank you, so much! I’m going to put it up in my office.”
After hugging Angelica in thanks, Martha goes over to the tree to get the present that she made for Peggy. Except, she didn’t make it. It’s a small box, wrapped in gold wrapping paper, and when she presents it to Peggy she drops onto one knee.
Everyone in the room either gasps or goes deathly silent.
“I admit, I cheated,” Martha chuckles, looking up at her girlfriend as she removes the wrapping paper and flips open the lid on the box. The ring inside is gorgeous─and it has two birthstones on it, with a small engraving that no one can really read. “I didn’t make this. I bought it, from George. I um… I’ve been dating you, Peggy, for about two years. When I first met you at John’s birthday party, something told me that I’d need to do anything to keep you in my life forever. From your big heart to your sweet soul… I knew you were the one for me. And day in, day out you prove that to me. So I’ve decided that I need to do something to prove it to you. And this is it. Will you… will you marry me?”
Peggy is speechless. She opens and closes her mouth several times, eyes watering with tears, before finally she throws her arms around her girlfriend─fiancee now─and simply nods her head.
Well, at least some secret presents could be kept.
Translations
mo chroí ─ my heart (Irish)
mon coeur ─ my heart (French)