"Why the fuck are you in my house?"

There was strange man invading his home wearing a lab coat, at the sound of Arthur's voice he stood up even straighter than he already was, looking straight at him with wide, surprisingly vibrant blue eyes.

"I-" he looked around, voice shaking, "I honestly don't know."

The man's eyes softened in confusion, then in something that looked akin to sadness, before he regained his composure and stuck out his hand in greeting, "The name's Alfred, Alfred F. Jones, sorry about the scare. Nice place by the way."

"Okay so what you're telling me is, is that you don't come from this world, that you're from a different dimension entirely. And through some strange series of events where you're from involving a lot of science I wouldn't understand," Arthur rolled his eyes, putting I wouldn't understand in air quotes, "that somehow ended up with you in my house, though you're not exactly sure why."

Alfred brightened considerably after perhaps half an hour of trying to explain how he wouldn't know why he was in another man's home or how he had gotten there in the first place.

"Yes, exactly! Well, not necessarily. See, you know about the multiverse theory, right?"

Arthur could only look at him like he was a mad man, but nodded anyway. "I went to school."

Alfred rolled his eyes, "They don't teach that in every school but; well actually, do they really teach that here? Is it fact? If someone proved the multiverse theory before I did I'm gonna be so mad!"

The Brit resists the urge to either sigh or scream in frustration, settling for rubbing his temple as if he was experiencing the worst headache in human history. He actually might be in all honesty. "No, it's still a theory here, some teachers just teach the simplistic versions because it's interesting and could be possible." Apparently, Ms. Calbury was right too.

Alfred's eyes widened, and he slammed his palms on the wooden top of Arthur's kitchen table, leaning towards Arthur with a cautionary smile, " So, are you saying that, technically, I just proved the multiverse theory in two different universes? "

Arthur resting a hand over his frantically beating heart from the heart attack he just endured, gave the culprit a withering look. "Technically."

The other man gives him a sheepish smile in return, eyes regretful, before what Arthur said fully hit him and he shot up.

"Yes! Fuck yes! Suck it Braginski!"

'I cannot believe this is happening to me right now.'

Arthur tries not to glare to hard at the other man, but he swears he can physically feel his headache double in size. "Are you sure you're a scientist?"

Alfred broke out of his celebrating, placing a hand over his heart in mock offense, "I've got three degrees in (dear god I love google,) thank you very much. It took all the blood sweat and tears you could imagine to get them too."

It felt like Arthur physically couldn't stop himself from raising an eyebrow. "And how old would you happen to be, Mr. Blood, Sweat, and Tears."

"For your information, I happen to be twenty-six and I double majored the hell out of college." He looks at the clock on Arthur's wall that Arthur would never admit is actually there so he can tell the time. He gets enough old man jokes as it is. "Wow, we got way off topic for-" Alfred makes a show of double checking the time, "twenty minutes there. What I'm trying to say is that I'm from a different earth." He started, careful to keep his explanation in the simplest terms possible. "One with the same year and day and physics and everything, at least from what I can tell, but the thing is, I don't really know how I got from there to here."

Alfred seemed to give Arthur a couple moments to consider this, in which the Brit chose to stay silent instead of voicing what he really thought. And what he really thought was that this guy was off the fucking deep end.

With a story as absolutely, and quite literally, out of this world , Arthur had to have at least a little apprehension or he'd start to think himself mad as well. The multiverse theory was at the very least possible, a lot of things are possible in a universe so utterly strange and unexplored. But literal inter dimensional travel? That's just taking things a bit too far.

The time traveler sitting across the table. Alien? Dimension jumper? Alfred started fidgeting with his hands, looking around Arthur's kitchen at anything really, noting what he has back on his earth or what devices this world was seemingly missing. Eventually though, self automated toasters became dull, and he was quickly descending into boredom. And as anyone in his lab will tell you, things tend to blow up when Alfred F. Jones gets bored.

It was then he dared to look over at his other dimensional companion whose house he accidentally invaded, and found a pair of greens eyes glaring daggers. His first reaction was to put up his hands in what he hoped was a placating manner, still wary of this new earth and the differences from his own home he may not know about. For all he knew, on this earth humans could spit acid.

Arthur ran a hand through his hair, sending an internal prayer that this day would not get any worse than it already was. "Let's say I believe you," Arthur said, and at that Alfred started to grin. Arthur held back a small noise of frustration and continued, "For the sake of argument, let's say you're really from a different universe entirely. Who's to say that anything you say is true? There's no one here who knows you or what you do, everything you say about yourself or where you come from could be complete bullshit and I couldn't have any way of knowing." Not that Arthur thought that himself truly, the man's eyes were so earnest and open it was hard to force himself to doubt anything he said, but Arthur prided himself on having a good head on his shoulders, and what kind of head would his be if he just took the world of someone who just supposedly broke the laws of space and time.

The other man looked like he was going to disagree, and for a second Arthur hoped he would, if only give the little voice in his head screaming a bit of comfort. But then all Alfred did was sigh, shoulders falling. "That," he began, "is a really good point."

Arthur stands, moving to somewhere else other than the kitchen, anywhere that didn't have anything to do with this madness the universe decided to drop in his lap "for funsies," as he imagines Peter would say. "I do hope you know far from reassuring that is."

Alfred runs his hands through his hair, "I know, but I can't think of anything that would convince you-" In their arguing, neither of them noticed the sound of the door opening, nor the Frenchman behind it.

"Eyebrows, I have respected that this is your house and that you wish to cook in it, but I have grown tired of over done oatmeal for breakfast so I've taken it upon myself to-" Francis stops, wind from the open door still blowing his hair and clothes into disarray. His eyebrows are perched high on his forehead, eyes wide and shifting back and forth between Arthur and their surprise guest.

"And who is this?"

The three of them find themselves in some sort of strange stand-off, Francis having closed the door and putting three bags over flowing with groceries on the floor without taking his eyes off either of them, and Arthur officially regrets every single choice he's ever made that has lead him to this moment.

Alfred's looking between Arthur and Francis, as if he's trying to put together a rather confusing puzzle.

Arthur's gazing around the room frantically, trying desperately to wrap his tongue around words that would even begin to explain what his friend just walked into, both looking and feeling somewhat like a trapped animal, when Francis grabs his wrist, having walked across from the door to the kitchen without Arthur noticing, and flashes their guest one of his movie star smiles.

"If you'll excuse us for a moment, shouldn't take long." There's a lot of his accent in the statement, a clear emphasis on 'excuse' and 'shouldn't take long.' Arthur, though still lost and a bit overwhelmed, surfaces to wrinkle his nose.

Next thing he knows he's being manhandled into the guest room, currently occupied by Francis' many, many possessions.

"As much as I would love to take this in wonderfully amusing direction, you look like you're about to pass out, so calm down." Francis has his hand on each of Arthur's shoulders, and he uses the steady pressure to bring him back down to earth from the cloud of panic before.

It takes a while, and he still can't get his breathing under control, but he can think, which is a great improvement over three minutes ago.

"Remember what Eliza taught you in high school?" Arthur nods, remembering the test and late night study sessions that ended up with him in a "panic spiral," as they would call it, and Eliza teaching him how to breathe, and make a list of things he was looking forward to while counting to ten, breathing at least three times each number.

Without needing to be told or prodded, Arthur launched straight into the list, '1. Seeing my mum this Christmas, 2. Getting to see Peter's face when he sees what I get him and Alistair's when I get him literal coal, the bastard. 3. That raise I'm getting when I finally start at the new branch. 4. Buying Alice something nice once I get it. 5. Buying all the tea San Francisco can give me. 6. Annoying Francis complaining how bad it is. 7. Finding out why the fuck there is a dimension jumper in my house. 8. Not having to carry an umbrella everywhere. Thanks England. 9. Finding out exactly what Thanksgiving is. 10. Having Francis around more- wait no I take that back. 10. American sweets and pastries everywhere.

Arthur's head is blessedly quiet, leaving him with full lungs and a rational mind. Having regained his control, Arthur immediately scowls.

"You seriously used that opportunity to speak French at me?"

Francis laughs, taking off his jacket in one fluid motion and putting it on his own personal coat stand. "You make it too easy, roast beef."

"Don't you start with me."

Sighing, Francis throws a cautious glance at the closed bedroom door, frowning. "Considering I can count the number of friends you have in this country on one hand, I'm going to guess there is a story behind that handsome man in a lab coat."

It becomes Arthur's turn to sigh, "You have no idea…" He closes his eyes, mentally preparing himself for the words he's about to force out of his mouth. "Basically, the man in the lab coat's name is Alfred, he doesn't really know why he's here, and he's from another dimension."

There's a period of silence, so Arthur takes the opportunity to open his eyes again. Francis seems frozen, he's standing completely still, a glass of wine in his hand, and looking at Arthur as if he's completely lost his mind.

"I know it sounds insane, but," He bites his lip. "Ugh, this would be easier if we all just talked and I let him explain it." His friend reanimates, Francis looks down at his glass before throwing it back and downing it in one go. He turns around and emerges with the entire bottle before he looks Arthur in the eye.

"Lead the way."

Notes: It's been more than a year but hey, I got it up. And if you thought that I could right a comedy story without it being absurd or having some sort of out of no where twist you were sadly mistaken my friend.

As I told my (practically) beta for this story, "I was lacking inspiration and a way to actually get Alfred in here and then it hit me. Why not take this "comedic" slice of life story. And go completely batshit crazy?"

The bold is for when someone speaks in a different language, in this case French, because I am not making last chapter's mistake again, ugh fourteen year old me why.