??????'? ??? ???? ?? ???? ???? Thomas J.

WHEN ELOISE VIRGINIA WASHINGTON concluded her late lunch with her father and mother, around 4, and new they were expecting Mr. Jefferson sometime around 5, and considering his usual punctuality, she rushed upstairs to change into one of her nicest gowns.

"Isabelle?" Eloise rang out, and her handmaid bounded around the corner. Isabelle was not a slave, but rather a volunteer. She was a peasant among New York city, and had been something of her best friend since Eloise was just a girl. When she was orphaned at 15, Eloise's father took the liberty of giving her a job at the Washington estate.

"El?" She smiled, folding her hands in front of her, Isabelle was the only one who called Eloise that name aside from her father.

"Belle, which gown do you think Mr-" she cleared her throat dramatically "Thomas Jefferson- would like to see me in this fine evening?" She asked, closing her eyes with a little "humph".

"I think you're insane and you've been waiting for him for 8 years." Isabelle laughed.

"And what if I told you, dear sweet Isabelle, that he asked me out on a date just this morning?" Eloise smiled.

"What?" Isabelle laughed in disbelief.

"Mhm." She nodded her head, taking the girls hands in her own.

"Well I- I can't believe it!" She chuckled. "I'm thinking green. But light or dark?"

"Depends, the light is ornate, the dark is alluring."

"Correct, but the light also has a very dainty, feminine connotation."

"The light one, maybe it will spark a conversation."

They both giggle, and two members of the ensemble pull out a changing screen, which the two of them duck behind, and after a few moments of very funny shadow movements, Eloise emerges with a stunning light green gown.

A/N: I tried to find some kind of picture but none of them really captures the dress I had in mind so just imagine it !

"Oh Eloise..."

"What do you think? You think this is the dress?"

"Darling, I think you're going to send him into cardiac arrest." She smiles, and the audience laughs.

"So he'll be impressed?" She smiles, addressing the dress in the mirror while she stands attop a small stool.

"Nothing less." She shakes her head.

"Oh, Belle, this is simply the best." She smiles, twirling around and stumbling off the stool before Belle catches her and gets her back upright on it. "I mean I just can't believe..." She begins to sing.

"The Thomas Jefferson is interested in me. Do you know how long I've waited for this?"

"Five years, give or take."

"How long I've waited for him? The perfect gentleman. Oh, Belle you simply have to see him in action..." She says this last sentence stepping off the stool, taking Belle's hands again and spinning the two of them around. "He's insane up there, it's not a game up there, to him. He comes to make a difference, he comes to win."

"And then there's that smile, those eyes, and oh that smile." She explains, fawning so clearly. "He doesn't even know the control he has over me. With those big strong arms and that- southern charm- I'm his helpless devotee." She sighs, seemingly done with her fangirling.

Meanwhile...

(offstage)

Mr. George Washington is beyond confused when, just 20 minutes after his late lunch with his daughter and wife, he hears a knock at his front door. He mumbles something under his breath, sets his newspaper to the side, and sets towards the door to open it.

Lo and behold, when he swings the door open, Thomas Jefferson is standing there, and George feels an overwhelming urge to slam it in his face.

"Mr Jefferson, to what do I owe this, far too early, pleasure?" He says, his lips forming a line.

"You know I've always been punctual, Mr. Washington." He smiles, straightening his coat while clearly looking behind Washington for something, or rather, someone.

"Come on in." He grumbles, moving to the side where Jefferson strolls in, still looking for something. "I can assure you my daughter isn't down here."

"Well then, may I ask where?"

"She's upstairs."

"Oh."

"Mr. Jefferson- before you go up there there's one thing I ask."

"Anything."

"Please be more kind with her heart than you have been."

"I'm sorry sir, I'm sure I don't understand."

"You are aware she's been waiting, these past 5 years, for you?"

"Well yes I know-"

"I watched those eyes as they fought back tears everytime someone mentioned you, France, or 1789 for these past 5 years."

"I promise you sir, I won't hurt your daughter."

"You'd better hope so, or I'll show you hurt." He says, pointing at him a little. When Jefferson doesn't move he sighs. "Go, go to her."

"Right." Jefferson smiles. "Thank you, sir." He says, then rushing up the stairs to the hallway right outside her room. He hears one singing distinctly.

"With those big strong arms, that - southern charm- I'm his helpless devotee..." The voice sings, and Jefferson recognizes it as Eloise.

"Oh El, you're really in for it." Another voice says, which he recalls as Isabelle.

"Don't I know it." She says, and you can hear the smile in her voice.

Jefferson knocks slightly before both voices beckon him to come in, and he opens the door, leaning on the door frame.

"Sorry ladies, didn't mean to interrupt, that guy you're talking about sure is a charmer..." He trails off when he fully takes in the sight of Eloise. "Well I'll be damned." He smiles, crossing the room to take Eloise's hand, kissing it with that same eye contact. "You look absolutely stunning this evening."

"Oh stop it Thomas, you're too kind." She smiles.

"I mean it darlin', you look absolutely divine." He says, that southern accent peaking through.

"I should go, so much work to do." Isabelle says, slipping out of the door behind Thomas, and winking at Eliose with a smile.

"I'll tell you what Ms. Washington, I'm fighting a hard battle not to kiss you right here and now."

"Then tell your inner army to back down. One kiss can't hurt." Eloise smiled, stepping towards him a little with her hands folded behind her, a mischievous smile on her face.

"You drive a hard bargian, but I'm afraid I must let you down." He smiles a little.

"And why's that?" She furrows her eyebrows.

"Because now you want it, it has more value."

"You love to watch me squirm, don't you Mr. Jefferson?" She smiles and shakes her head, another step forward.

"Of course not, why would I do that?" He wears a smug smirk on his face, looking down at her with their close quarters.

"You're making life very difficult for me, you know that?" She says, removing her hands from behind her back to bring them up to the collar of his coat.

"I'm very sorry, Miss Washington." He says, leaning in like he's going to kiss her but whispering something in her ear instead.

She leans back in contentment. "We should get downstairs, and you, Mr. Jefferson, should keep that mouth of yours under control." She smiles, dragging him along by the sleeve of his coat, while he follows her with a content smile.