He tried to get rid of it. Of course he did. What kind of whore would he be, if he allowed himself to get knocked up by any client that came along? Still, Burr cannot help the little sound that escapes him, and he wraps his arms around Hamilton, rocks him--soothing sounds.

"Why?" he asks, because he does not know what else to say. Traces little patterns over the back of Hamilton's hand. "You always wanted children, before." A stupid question--he had not been a whore, before.

"What do you want, Alexander?"