What Francis said he would do in his free time is what Arthur was sorta expecting, given that the man was French after all. But he didn't say anything about it. "My opinion on Americans is about normal I think. And it wasn't that I wanted to move here. My chief of police back home and the one here in New York were friends in high school. They apparently kept in touch all these years and decided that they wanted to try like an exchange program to encourage foreign relations or something like that. And I was the one chosen to come over here." Arthur explained.

"Ah, that's tough," Francis said. "You must miss home. I know I do from time to time. America is a bit...well, I won't say I dislike it." He'd never agreed to have come if he truly hated America or it's people. They were friendly after all and he could buy brand names cheaper. "I should say I'd rather be somewhere besides new York city though. Isn't it a bit dingy and the hooligans are a far cry from my beloved Versailles!" he added with a dramatic sigh.

Arthur had to agree about missing home. He really did, every day. But he pushed through it. He was here for a job, after all. "If you don't like New York, why did you choose to live here?" he asked, not understanding that. If Francis didn't like this city, he shouldn't have settles here. Sure, it wasn't his first choice either. But, in his mind, nothing could compare to London.

Francis chuckled. He expected the question and maybe in some way purposely set himself up to be asked it. Running a hand over his face, he peeked out at Arthur from between his fingers. "You'll laugh at me for this, but it was a woman," he admitted. After letting out a sigh, he moved around the bar, doing things so as to distract himself as he explained things to this stranger. It was funny really. Normally that's what people came to his bar to do. He shouldn't be dropping his own story. "We met at at foreign student exchange program in Paris. I followed her back to the states and moved in with her. Of course, A month later, she dumped me. I always figured I'd go back home, but somehow it never happened." He waved a hand in dismissal. "But this is all old history."

Arthur couldn't understand why he would move to another country just for some girl. Especially since she didn't seem to be worth the effort. If someone loved him enough to move to his home country, he wouldn't have dumped them after a month. Not if they clearly loved him enough to do that. He took a few more sips of his drink, silent for a few minutes. He was starting to feel really hot sitting in here. "Is it hot in here, or is it just me?" He asked, tugging at his collar.

Although there was more to the story, Francis kept it to himself. He could tell Arthur didn't approve much of his seemingly whirlwind romance, but he didn't mention just how close he got to marrying the woman. Or at least considering it. To have been thrown out so suddenly, at the time it shocked him to the core. Smiling with only a quirk of one side of his lips, Francis tutted at the other man. "It's because you're drunk." But his own embarrassment made him feel hot as well so what could he really say?

"I'm not drunk!" Arthur exclaimed, outraged by the suggestion. He was sure he would know if he was drunk and was positive that he wasn't. Sure, his words weren't coming out correctly and he couldn't seem to focus properly. But that didn't mean he was drunk. "It's just really hot in here." he stated. He felt like he was overheating and there was only one thing he could do in this situation. He set the bottle clumsily down on the bar and started pulling at his shirt, intending to take it off.

A small squeak escaped Francis. "You're definitely drunk! Ah...hey-!" Crap, what should he do? He balled his fists in front of his mouth, staring wide-eyed as Arthur started taking off his shirt. Francis really should have stopped him, but he didn't want to. He couldn't un-glue his eyes from this scene at all. Biting down into his knuckles to keep himself from making another noise, he glanced around. A couple other people stared at the scene now and it took him only one second to decide he didn't want to share Arthur. But uh...he'd get a little peek first before he stopped this madness.

Arthur didn't notice that people were staring at him. The only thing he could focus on in this moment was finding a way to cool down. Sure, he could always drink more. But, he wanted to try this first. It normally helped, after all. He grabbed the shirt by the the hem and pulled it up and over his head. After he set his arms on the bar, the shirt holding them together. But he didn't mind. He already felt much better.

Oh...sweet mother of Jesus. Francis forgot to blink. He glanced around, just to make sure he wasn't about to get in trouble for letting a scene happen, then reached across the bar to grab Arthur's hands. The last shreds of restraint and sanity fled his mind. "Mon cher, you're looking so lovely like this and I'd so love to see the rest of you without clothes. My heart is aflutter with feelings. Won't you come to my room later to calm them for me again?" he pleaded.

Arthur stared at Francis for a moment. It took a moment for his words to process in his brain. "You know, I don't normally go home with people I just met. But, I think I can make an exception for you." he told him. Sure, the first part of what he said was a lie. He had gone home with strangers more often than he would like. Normally when he was drunk. But the Frenchman didn't need to know that, right?

Francis just about died hearing Arthur's words. No matter how confident he may have been in his wooing skills, he didn't expect such an easy yes. He never guessed he could capture this man who didn't really seem to like him that much. It left him more than a little giddy. "You'll have to wait until my shift is over. It's only an hour more," he said, nearly knocking someone's drink to the floor with his carelessness. It didn't even phase him or his charming smile. "And please put your shirt back on. Tonight, I want you all to myself."

Arthur was a bit reluctant to put his shirt back on. He still felt so hot. "Alright..." he muttered. He slowly pulled his shirt back on, fumbling a little bit with it. Once it was on, he leaned against the bar and grabbed his drink. He shook it to see how much was still in it. By the sound, it was almost gone. He was sure he could finish it before Francis's shift ended. He took a sip from it.

Once sure that Arthur wouldn't misbehave in an eye-catching way again, Francis slipped away to do his job. He always kept an eye on the inebriated Englishman though. He couldn't believe his luck, though he did need to rethink this strategy about always taking home drunks. Someone always regretted it and he was left to clean puke off his bathroom rug. But at the moment, he couldn't consider that future. He could never stop himself from following these same paths that always left him lonely in the morning light. Maybe he wanted that.

Arthur watched Francis do his job. He didn't try to stop him again. He knew the Frenchman had to actually do his job and not spend the whole night talking to one person. Even if he wanted his attention to himself. After a few minutes he stood and stumbled to the bathroom again. He quickly did his business and returned to his seat so that he could continue watching the barman and kept sipping on the drink until it was gone.

The fact that Francis knew eyes were on him made him unusually clumsy. How embarrassing. He did manage to survive the rest of his shift though. Glancing at his watch, he saw only five minutes left and announced that to the few stragglers still nursing their drinks. Over the hour, the club had vacated a good portion of its crowd. The whole place would close not long after the bar. Spotting the familiar blonde head, Francis walked over. "I need to clean up and talk to a couple coworkers. They're about to shoo everyone out of here. Why don't you wait for me in the parking lot?" he asked.

"Alright.." Arthur stated. He stood and swayed in his spot for a moment before pulling out his wallet and pulling out some money. He set it on the bar. "For the drinks." he told him. He put his wallet back in his pocket before turning and stumbling out the door. He bumped into a few people on the way out and mumbled apologies. He felt better outside. It was much cooler out here than inside the club. He stretched and leaned against the wall to wait for Francis.

Francis wiped down his area and put away all the drinks but a few. The reason for that soon appeared after the music turned off. "Glass of wine please!" Toni called as he skipped over. A few of the others often got a drink after their work hours ended and Francis didn't mind pouring the few drinks off the book. This he did for fun. Francis tipped less than a half glass into the waiting glass.

"I hope you're planning on paying for it this time," he said. Antonio pushed twenty-six cents over and Francis eyed it with a despondent air. Of course not. He had a bottle of imported German beer next to him and he looked around. "Is our favorite dancer not coming?"

Antonio shrugged one shoulder. "Who knows with that guy. I think he left early."

Francis sighed. "That 'Peter Rabbit' is a damn mystery. Some kid was staring like a starry eyed fool at him earlier. I had to break the guy's dreams of romance apart. I mean, there has to be someone I can better set him up with."

Antonio slapped a hand down onto the bar. "Ooh I want to play matchmaker! That would be sooo much fun!"

"No!" Francis snapped. "I mean...better me. You'll uh..." Do something stupid. He decided not to say that to his friend though. "Everyone knows I'm cupid. Now would you wash your own glass after this? I have a date." Antonio watched him with laughing, or perhaps mocking eyes as Francis left the club. He never could tell the difference between those two expressions when it came to his friend.

Arthur was getting bored of waiting for Francis. He found himself nodding off for a moment be jerked back awake. If the Frenchman didn't come out soon, he was just going to go home. Just when he was about to decide to leave, the man in question came out of the club. He headed towards him, stumbling just a little bit. "Are you ready to go?" he asked.

Francis raised an eyebrow at Arthur. It seemed that spending time outside hadn't quite sobered him up. "Sorry for making you wait. Do you mind if I smoke?" he asked, pulling a pack out of his shirt pocket. He felt like he needed one after that conversation. Honestly, what was he getting himself into saying he would play cupid? This was exactly why he had no free time to himself. "Since you're drunk, come ride with me. It's easier than asking you to follow me to a hotel anyway."

"I don't mind if you smoke if I can have one." Arthur told him. His mother always told him and his brothers that it was a nasty habit to have, but it wasn't one that was easy to break. Though he does try sometimes, if only for her sake. "I'd have to ride with you anyway unless you lived close to here considering I walked." he added. He didn't have a car here anyway and he wasn't allowed to drive in the squad cars when on patrol. Stupid American driving system makes him confused anyway so he doesn't mind that.

Grinning, Francis passed over a smoke and lit his before holding out the lighter to Arthur. "I'm glad I'm not the only one who likes a good cig," he chuckled. "These Americans get offended by such small things like that." He blew out a puff of smoke and stopped by a sleek silver car, small by American standards, but obviously well cared for. He slid in and popped open the passenger door for Arthur. "Don't forget your seatbelt. Ash tray is here," he said, indicating a rose shaped dish teetering in the space between the two seats.

Arthur took the cigarette and the lighter when it was offered. He lit it up before handing it back. "I have noticed that." he agreed about the Americans. It was a bit amusing at first but quickly grew annoying. He followed Francis to the car and got in when the door opened. He automatically pulled his seat belt on when he was in. "So, how long til we get there?" he asked, taking a drag from the cigarette.

"First place I find if you want it soon," Francis said. In reality, he had no intention of taking Arthur to his home. He may have gotten a little crazy and suggested that, but he was smart. If he took every single lay back home, then he'd be in some serious trouble. How many men and women would start stalking him for a second date? No, best to keep things to a neutral ground if you were going to sleep with a good portion of NYC. He spotted a good hotel and pulled into the parking lot. "This work fine for you?"

Arthur looked at the place they pulled up to. "Yeah. This is fine." he told him. He had already assumed that Francis wasn't going to take him to his house. That would just be stupid. He wouldn't have done it. Anytime he had spent the night with someone, he'd always go to their house or to places like this. He unbuckled his seat belt and got out of the car.