“I figured. I’ve met Tony Stark, and I’ve never met you.” But he knew enough about what Tony Stark was like to believe that this was, indeed, some version of Tony. Opening the fridge, he poured him a cranberry juice and club soda–the closest thing to a drink he had in his place. “I’ve got some hangover pills in the drawer.” Xander laughed at the thought of people in this universe being more pleasant. “Where you’re from must be a regular old shit-hole. Pleasant ain’t the word I’d use.” Putting the juice back, he noticed a bottle of beer, probably left over for God knows how long. “I’ve got one beer left, and I’m not drinking it.” The cranberry juice became Xander’s as he uncapped the bottle and handed it over. “You fall out some black hole or something?” a snort, “Of all places, you end up on my damn doorstep.” He wasn’t a villain, but he wasn’t exactly a good guy, either. He had a tenuous standing in the world at best, but he wondered if people knew him in other universes, if he was just as infamous a daredevil and sometimes hired mercenary, or if that was just this universe.