A/N: So. The new season premiered yesterday x3 That was what inspired me to continue this.

Just a warning: Updates will be sporadic, but I'll try to keep them coming.

Also... I do not own either Hetalia or Doctor Who.

Alfred F. Jones panted as he sprinted away from a huge beast, glancing back every so often to see if it was still there. The sound of his boots pounding on the ground echoed as he sprinted through the dank tunnels. He skidded to a halt as he reached a drop off that led into nothing more than blackness. Slowly, Alfred turned to face the scaly beast behind him, panting heavily.

He gazed at it for a moment before smirking, and allowing himself to fall back into the oblivion behind him, the beast, floor, and ceiling all rushing far away from him as he fell backward as was pulled down by gravity.

"Cut!" A voice shouted, causing Alfred to glance up from where he had fallen on the mat that had been placed for him. "That was excellent, Alfred. Take the rest of the day off. That take was a masterpiece."

"Thanks Roderich," Alfred replied, giving the Austrian director a grateful smile. He refrained from adding 'It only took seventeen takes.'

"It's nothing, Alfred," Roderich replied, glancing at Alfred as the small-time actor took his leave.

Alfred rolled his eyes at that, sighing as he walked from the studio, unlocking his bike from the rack. The only bike on the rack. Not that he couldn't afford a car, it was just that he preferred to bike places. It was more... unusual. He tended to prefer more unusual things. Which was probably why he had been cast in the sci-fi movie, as not too many actors had been interested in the role.

He smiled a bit to himself as he pedaled away from the studio towards the small beach that was only a few miles away. Hardly anyone was ever there, since it was so small, not to mention that it was pretty well hidden from the main roads. Alfred grinned as he biked to the beginning of the sand before dismounting his bike and leaving it with his shoes and socks in favor of wandering the shoreline for anything interesting that may have washed up.

Alfred crouched down to roll up the bottom of his jeans, deciding that he would wade into the calm surf that day. He smiled to himself as he walked along the beach, bending over every now and again to pick up an interesting seashell. Often times he would just examine the shell and place it back in the sand, preferring to only keep the things that truly interested him.

When his foot touched something somewhat smooth and most definitely metal, Alfred blinked and crouched down to pick it up. As he turned it over in his hands, he still couldn't figure out what it was meant to be. Some kind of metal, a bit larger than a pencil, but with buttons on it. Not to mention what looked like a green light bulb at one end.

Blinking at the object, he reached out a finger to press one of the buttons. But just as he was about to, a rather loud coughing and sputtering made him jump and drop the object in surprise. He jumped up, looking around for the source of the noise. After a moment of looking around, he found that it was a man staggering out of the water, clothed in a ragged suit and tie, spitting out seawater.

"Uh... do you need help?" Alfred asked, walking up to the man, not sure if he should help or not, as the stranger seemed rather unsteady on his feet.

"Yes!" the man replied, looking up at Alfred and grabbing his shoulders. "What... day is it today?"

Alfred blinked a few times, a bit baffled by the man's question and accent blurring his words. He scratched the back of his head as he tried to think of an explanation for the man's oddities. Other than that he was either drunk or insane...

"Today is Tuesday."

"Tuesday? Tuesday?! Nobody like Tuesdays," the man groaned, running a hand through his hair and letting go of Alfred's shoulders. He sniffed the air a bit, expression becoming thoughtful. "Hm... it smells like 2012... it's 2012, right?"

"Ehe... yeah..." Alfred responded, laughing a bit nervously. The man had to ask what year it was? That was definitely not normal... What if he was some kind of prisoner?! Or maybe even an alien?! That would be something completely new. Although... Alfred did think he wanted something new. Not the daily ins and outs of going to the studio every day to be yelled at Roderich.

"You sound American. Are you American? That probably means I'm in America... right? Unless you're just a tourist in a different country... though it does feel like America... This is America, right? I'm nearly positive it's - oh! I'm being rude again, aren't I? My name is Arthur Kirkland, it's a pleasure to meet you," Arthur said, holding out his hand for Alfred to shake. Alfred blinked a few times at Arthur's words before shaking himself a bit and taking his hand and shaking it.

"The name's Alfred. Alfred F. Jones," Alfred responded. He paused for a moment before adding, "And yes, this is America. New York, to be more specific."

"That's lovely, it really is. New York..." Arthur said looking around. He nodded at the landscape before turning to examine Alfred. "...Your eyes are very blue.

"But anyway... we should probably-"

Arthur was cut off by five bright beams of light, followed by loud splashes. Alfred blinked as he saw five figures jerkily getting up, and they seemed to twitch a bit as they moved. He also heard an odd ticking noise now as well... which was strange, since he didn't carry a watch. Unless Arthur did... But Arthur could be anyone! What if he had called down those things to attack America?! Or what if he had just started an alien invasion?! Thoughts raced through Alfred's head as he watched the figures wading towards him and Arthur through the surf.

Arthur grabbed Alfred's hand and tugged him away from the five figures.

"Run!"

A/N: This... is not my best chapter. It's short. But I'll be trying to make them longer and better. We'll see how that turns out... But I hope you enjoyed! :D