Alfred wasn't sure what had woken him at first, but he was awake now. Though to be honest, he had never really fallen asleep. Maybe it was because he was sleeping in a strange bed, in a strange house, in a country that he was still trying his hardest to get used to. All he could do now was lie there and listen to the contented breathing of his partner, Arthur.

They had just moved to London, barely even been there a week, and while Arthur was thrilled to be back in his home town, Alfred was hesitant. His body kept thinking it was back on the east coast. And after nearly crashing their new car, Arthur had forbidden him from driving for the time being. Why couldn't people in this country just drive on the right hand side of the road? But the jet-lag and odd driving habits were just two things, on an ever growing list of idiosyncrasies that Alfred was just going to have to get used to. For right now though, getting his body set to GMT seemed like a big enough challenge, that and getting the kitchen unpacked.

With a sigh he rolled over, and spooned against his bed mate's back, because if he was going to lie there awake he might was well cuddle! He rested his head gently against Arthur's, the man's hair tickling his nose slightly. Arthur shifted unconsciously in his hold, moving closer to the source of warmth about him, and Alfred began relaxed a little in turn. No, closer to sleep, but at the very least he was comfortable.

Alfred was just on the verge of dozing off when he heard it. A faint overly cautious creek that was not a part of the house's nightly course of groans and squeaks, he would know. Alfred had become very familiar with the house's nocturnal sounds over the past few days of not sleeping well. But he didn't act on it yet, for all he knew it was one of the cats up to some mischief. Though, it would be rather difficult for either of their cats to make that sound. When both of them were curled up at the foot of their bed!

Damn someone's trying to break in! His paranoid and sleep deprived mind concluded as he sat bolt upright and flicked on the bed side lamp.

"Al," moaned the mound of covers that was Arthur's as the light came on, "What in blazes are you on about?"

Alfred looked over his shoulder at his husband as he got out of bed. "Arthur don't panic," he said trying to remain calm himself, "but I think someone's trying to break in."

At this Arthur sat up and shot him a bleary eyed glare, "Break in?"

"Yeah!" the American whispered urgently, snatching a cell phone from off the bed side table. He tossed to Arthur, who barely managed to stop the thing from colliding with his nose. "I'm going to head down stairs to investigate, while you call whatever serves as 911 in this country." The

Arthur looked at the phone then back at this husband nonplused. "Alfred," he said firmly, " there is no one trying to break into our ho−

The sound of something large knocking over boxes and cursing reached their ears and Alfred, (despite their present danger )looked smug.

"Call the police Arthur," Alfred said quietly as he made to exit their room, but stop when he felt a hand on his elbow. He looked down into Arthur's stern worried face.

"What makes you think I'm letting you go down there?" The Englishman whispered harshly. "What if the burglar is armed? I rather not have you dead!"

Alfred shook his head and took hold of Arthur's hand, "That the point, what if he's armed and comes up here , I don't want anything to happen to you either."

"So what, you're going play the hero and potentially get yourself shot, is that your brilliant plan Alfred?"

Alfred smiled weakly, "Yeah something like that."

"Alfred−"

Another crash from down stairs cut off whatever rant Arthur was about to launch into. The Englishman's eyes widen with genuine fear as he quickly set about calling the authorities

Alfred pulled his husband into arms and held him close, god they were both shaking.

"Stay here." He said as he pulled away

Arthur reluctantly nodded, mouthing Be safe.

Alfred nodded back and swiftly exited their room.

"Yes hello," Arthur said as the operator picked up "I'd like to report a break in…"

Alfred sighed in some relief, at the very least police were going to be the way. But as he made his way down the hall the dark in nothing but his boxers, he wished now more than ever that he had a shotgun in his hands. Why, did they have to move to a country that did not allow ownership of that kind of weaponry?

He reached the stair case and peered over the banister to the living room below. He saw the dim shape of a hunched figure stumbling blindly about the first floor. Alfred watched the shape stumble into more boxes yet to be unpacked, and heard more cursing. For a burglar, Alfred felt, this guy sure sucked at the whole sneaking around bit.

Careful not to make a sound, Alfred slowly made his way down the stair case. The outline of the man turned around a few times as though lost, before turning away from Alfred and headed back towards the kitchen. There was enough moon light to see by, and Alfred caught sight of his baseball-bat sticking out of one the boxes. He took hold of it quickly, feeling better with some kind of weapon in his hands. He followed stealthily after the intruder bat held at the ready.

The intruder walk into a wall, missing the entrance to the kitchen by a few inches. The man uttered more cures as he stumbled into the kitchen.

Alfred found the robbers actions rather odd, the guy seemed more intent on crashing into things than actually stealing anything. Adrenaline pumping through his veins, he followed the man into his kitchen and stood in the door way one hand against the light switch. As soon as the intruder stumbled into another stack of boxes, Alfred flipped the switch.

The over head lights turned on blinding the potential robber, as Alfred brought the bat over his head ready to strike.

"Oi, whos are-ya?" said a drunken voice, "Are ya the one who put all t-these bloody boxes in my house?"

Alfred lowered his bat and took a good look at the person who had broken in to his home. The man was old for one thing, a small wised husk of a man, with big ears filled with hair and an even bigger nose. The old man was squinting at Alfred the way most visually impaired do when they have lost their glasses, and the man wreaked of alcohol.

"Wells who's are ah?" The man slurred drunkenly.

Alfred set his bat aside, and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Sir," he began "I think you've got the wrong house."

The burglar turned out to be one Nicholas Clarkson, age 85, who suffered from frequent bouts of dementia and happened to live a street behind them. Apparently, the old man had a habit of sneaking out of his daughter his house, getting thoroughly smashed, and then of sneaking back into the wrong house. Or at least that's how his very apologetic daughter explained it when she arrived to pick up her intoxicated father. After the police (who seemed to have experience with Mr. Clarkson), had called her.

Alfred and Arthur now sat on their sofa, the police long gone, and Miss. Clarkson departed with her cantankerous father in tow. She had left her number behind, and had promised to pay any damages her father may have incurred. They felt rather drained yet unable to go to sleep. They were stuck in between feeling thankful, violated, or just plain exasperated.

"Man, that was weird." Alfred said at length staring intently at the ceiling.

Arthur just leaned against his shoulder, "We should be grateful that he wasn't an actual robber."

Alfred hummed in agreement and wrapped one arm protectively around his husband. He rested his head against Arthur's and closed his eyes.

"How did he get in anyways?" Arthur asked.

"The cat door." Alfred stated.

"What?"

"That's what I said."

Arthur fell silent, but decided to not pursue question further, "We're getting rid of the cat flap alright."

"And getting a burglar alarm." The American added.

They lapse into silence once more. Arthur wrapped his arms about Alfred's waist and held him tightly, "I was so scared Alfred, when you left the room, I-I didn't know if you would come back."

"I know sweetheart, I was scared too." Alfred said kissing his husbands temple.

"Don't ever do something like that again."

"I won't."

They kissed, their lips meeting briefly, seeking nothing but comfort in the others presents. After the night they had had, they were simply glad the other was still around to hold on to.

AN:This is kind of a the first part of an AU I've been working on. The first part is posted on my livejournal.