Ok guys. Hopefully you'll find this to be humorous. You see, I just had a wonderfully crack-tastic chat with my friend, Hayden, her being Arthur, me being Alfred. This deviates from the chat a lot though from the moment Arthur can't get the door open. I'm not sure if this is just... weird enough to be considered, "cracky" but I was feeling up to writing something funny at midnight tonight and this was produced. Hopefully you guys won't hate me for writing this. XD

Alfred yawned and rolled over in discomfort only to make himself considerably more uncomfortable. The pressure on his chest made him roll back onto his back and sit up, stretching a little bit. He looked around in the darkness of the too and saw that Arthur wasn't next to him like he usually was. Then he remembered. They'd gotten into an argument the night before.

When the two had been at Arthur's house so he could work, Alfred had curiously wandered around his house, careful not to bother him. He found a room, blocked off, sort of hidden and entered it. It had been dark in the room and since he couldn't find a light switch or lamp, he used his phone to look around, check out some old looking books. Most of the books appeared to be in other languages and he attempted to read and understand them but he found that completely useless.

When Arthur found him poking around this secret room, he'd been pretty angry and Alfred's curious prying hadn't helped. Therefore they wound up arguing and Arthur slept on the couch.

Alfred stood, snagged Texas from the nightstand, and shuffled his way to the bathroom, rubbing his eyes with his sleeve which was unusually drooped over his hand, as it was too long for his arm. He slid into the darkened bathroom and flicked on the lights, blinking rapidly at the sudden change in lighting. While he let his eyes adjust, still blinking several times in the process, he slid his glasses on and stared in the mirror, sleepily. At first every thing was fine. His hair looked a little bit longer than usual… but that was probably just the bedhead and- wait…

Alfred squinted at his reflection and raised his hands up to his chest, giving it a quick glance. Boobs. What? Where did those come from? WHAT?! He felt his chest for a minute, just to make sure he was awake and this was real. Why did he have boobs? They weren't there before he went to bed, so… how… how did he get them?! He gaped down at his chest. This wasn't right. In fact, this was HORRIBLY wrong. He was a man, not a woman! He shouldn't have boobs! He pulled down the collar of his blue, long-sleeved, t-shirt a little and poked at them. Yup… They were real alright. But… How… What? Then it occurred to him… He didn't feel Florida's familiar precedence between his legs… Oh! He didn't even want to see. He could save himself the trouble of checking for sure until he needed to go to the bathroom or shower. Whichever came first.

"WHAT THE CRAP IS HAPPENING?!" He suddenly burst, eyes widening as a voice that sounded foreign to him erupted from his vocal chords. He clamped his hand over his mouth. What happened to his voice? It sounded like it had jumped up an octave or something. He… She pressed his… her back against the wall. What was going on? Why was he a woman? He (we'll stick with he, even though he's technically a she) felt his face. It seemed a little thinner, his neck more slender. This wasn't right… Maybe this was a mistake. He was in his house. He could've switched bodies with someone! Yes! That was probably it! Just like in the movies!

"Alfred, are you alright in there? Do you have a woman with you?" Came that amazing British accent through the door. "I didn't think you were awake yet…" He said after he didn't receive an answer. He had been making breakfast… well cereal and fruit… simply because it was even more likely something would catch fire if he tried cooking in someone else's kitchen. Then he'd heard Alfred… Or… not Alfred… He couldn't be sure. When he went into the bedroom and found the bathroom door closed, light peeking around and out, he'd assumed that's where his American lover had gone.

The Brit waited for an answer. He was a bit concerned as it was unlike Alfred not to answer him…

"Oh I get it… You aren't talking to me. Giving me the silent treatment."

Alfred didn't say anything. He was having a full blown panic attack, eyes as wide as saucers, almost shaking as he was pretty overwhelmed at what had apparently happened. He just hoped it was all a dream. What would Arthur think? Would he reject him if he saw? How would Alfred get back to normal? So many questions swamped his mind. He hadn't been ready for such a shock this morning.

"If it's an apology you want, I'm sorry I got mad at you. I was just a little… well, I don't like when people are snooping around my house… I suppose it's hypocritical of me, asking you for an honest relationship and then locking away parts of my house… You understand though, right? You still have things you keep to yourself." Arthur paused. He'd been thinking about his apology all morning. "I really shouldn't have yelled I know it made you upset… but could you please not ignore me? I made you breakfast… er well… kind of."

The American was unable to focus on Arthur's apology. Alfred didn't even care what he was saying at this point.

"Can you at least let me know you're ok?"

"I'm fine," Alfred muttered, his voice muffled by his arm.

"Alfred, is that your voice?"

Crap. He noticed. "Yes, I'm just…" He stopped and coughed. "My throat's just… off today, man." Yeah that's what it was. His throat wasn't feeling good today. He heard a sigh from the other side of the door.

"I do hope you haven't come down with something. Can I have a look?"

"No! You can't come in! I don't want you to catch it! Hahahaha," he laughed half-heartedly, breaking into a series of fake coughs.

"Alfred, that's nice of you really, but I should to make sure it's not something too dreadfully serious. If it makes you more comfortable I'll put a mask on over my mouth and nose so I can't catch anything." Arthur turned the knob on the door and pushed it open slightly only to have it slammed shut in his face as Alfred threw his body against it.

"NO!"

And that's what provoked Arthur to further poke and prod at Alfred for answers. "Alfred something's wrong. I can tell."

"No there isn't! Really! There's no need to worry… I'm just getting water and… can you… do me a favor and get me something?" he asked, pressing himself against the wooden door.

"Yes, dear. What can I get you?" Arthur asked. That was it. When he retrieved whatever it was Alfred wanted, he'd pull the door open! Yes, brilliant plan. Alfred was definitely hiding something, and not that this was his only reason, but Alfred had invaded his privacy by entering prohibited rooms in his house, even after he'd warned him not to.

"My bomber jacket. I think it's… hanging on the edge of my closet door."

Arthur turned and retrieved it from the closet door and returned. "Alright, I've got it."

Alfred opened the door just enough to slip his arm out. Thank goodness the sleeves covered them completely down to the fingertips because this weird change transformed pretty much every part of him to a her. He darted his hand out, gripped the jacket and tried yanking it back in the bathroom as Arthur tried jerking the door open, which didn't work. Alfred's strength hadn't left him.

"I'll be out in a minute, dude, just… gimme a sec to get myself together."

Arthur agreed to this. "I'll be in the kitchen, just come out when you're ready to eat."

"Okay," Alfred sighed, standing back up. The blue-eyed blonde gazed into the mirror. His hair really hadn't changed much. It had lengthened a bit. There didn't seem to be scissors around at the moment so cutting it wouldn't work. He pulled it back and tucked it into the back of his bomber jacket as he slipped it on. It was still pretty noticeable.

"Crap," Alfred muttered. Crapcrapcrapcrap. He'd need an excuse. Maybe it was a wig… that was left here… at a Halloween party? Arthur would probably go on a lecture about how it could have lice or something.

"I'm not gonna be able to hide this very long," Alfred whispered to himself. "Or maybe not at all." He opened the door to the bathroom and could hear Arthur back in the kitchen. There was a sudden noise as if some dishes fell on each other and it sounded like Arthur had jumped and hit the cabinet door, making a thud noise.

Alfred crept across to the closet where he found a hoodie. He took off his bomber jacket and pulled on the hoodie and then put the jacket back on. He pushed all his hair back in the hoodie and then zipped it up and pulled the bomber jacket, mostly closed. He looked in the mirror over his dresser and he looked ridiculous, and even with those layers, his chest was now large enough that it was still pretty noticeable. Trying to conceal them more he crossed his arms tightly. Definitely suspicious but nothing was working.

He snuck to the door and could spot Arthur cleaning a counter. "Pssst! Arthur!" Alfred hissed.

Arthur looked up and dropped the rag in the sink, going to the bedroom door. "Alfred what are you wearing?"

"I was cold… might be a part of um… whatever I have… I think you should go home," he said, keeping his voice with a whisper.

"I'm not going to just leave you here if you're sick." Alfred just stared at him and Arthur stared right back. The American was sure Arthur had noticed something, maybe a flaw in his cover up because of this scrutinization but after a moment, Arthur spoke again. "Fine. You win. Just come out and eat the breakfast I made you first. Then I won't intrude or make you do anything but I do think you should make a visit to a doctor about your throat. And I want you to call me afterward."

Alfred stood to his full height and let out a relieved sigh, walking out. "Kay dude, whatever you sa-" He was stopped by a hand on his shoulder.

"That's strange… Alfred, you seem to have gotten shorter." Crap. His height changed too?! He hadn't even noticed that!

"N-no," Alfred stuttered, trying to think of something as he was spun around. "I'm just slumping. Tch."

"Don't do that. It's bad for your back," Arthur replied. Alfred, in attempt to listen, pushed himself up to a higher height, but still came up an inch or two shorter than he originally was. Arthur narrowed his green eyes, furrowing his bushy eyebrows. "Why are you holding your arms like that?"

"I'm cold. I told you."

"Alfred it is probably 23 degrees in here and you're wearing… two jackets and a shirt."

"Yeah. Twenty-three degrees. That's like below freezing."

Arthur sighed. "No, 23 degrees Celsius. I believe that's approximately 75 degrees in Fahrenheit. It really isn't that cold. Now is there something wrong with your skin or something that you're trying to hide? I promise I won't be put off. I want you to be able to share anything with me."

Alfred sighed after a while, "You won't laugh?" He rose an eyebrow.

This probably won't be a very long fic, maybe a few chapters...

Erm... I apologize for any and all typos/errors. I'll fix 'em later when I get the chance.

Also, now that you've read it. I know that there's nyo!America and all that... but I dunno. I feel like she's different than how America would be if he woke up one morning and discovered he had boobs and Florida was missing. So yeah...