Matthew focused on the bartender when he heard him speak to him. It wasn't like what Alfred was saying was actually important anyway. He was just talking about a new game that was coming out soon that he was wanting to play. Matthew thought about the question for a moment before shrugging. "I suppose... I don't think I really have a type... I'd be happy with anybody as long as they were a good person." he eventually said.

Francis half-smiled. "That's a very healthy ideal, but hey...don't sell yourself short, kid." He couldn't shake the feeling that's exactly what the guy did, like he didn't deserve to have high expectations. In Francis' world, everyone did though. Sighing, he leaned over the bar and glanced back to the now empty stage before looking at the kid again. "Look, do you want me to introduce you to that dancer? I can't promise anything, but I can at least give you a chance to talk to him." Francis felt sure he'd regret the decision, but he didn't know what else to do at that point.

"Could you?" Matthew asked, brightening up. He knew nothing was going to come from it. But, even the chance to just meet him would be enough. As long as he didn't expect anything, he couldn't get hurt by it, right? He hoped it wouldn't be to disappointing and that the man wouldn't just ignore him like most people seemed to whenever his brother was around. Or not see him there at all. People have done that before, Al included. But for his brother, that only happens if he's super distracted by something. So its not a big deal. But it hurts when anybody else does it.

Nodding his head once, Francis turned his attention to the back stage door he know the dancer would come out from. Ten minutes later, the man emerged. He wore a skin tight shirt and black jeans with shiny designs that left a stripe of his stomach showing. Francis couldn't tell if he planned to continue clubbing or go home with that attire. He did make a path toward the bar though, even if he flitted among the customers, dancing with each for only a second before carefully extricating himself from any contact like avoiding them was the most natural thing in the world.

Francis had just raised his hand to call the other over when a tall man blocked his view of the dancer.

"Hello, little bunny," a childish voice said in a thick accent. "Just like always, you dance so well." Gilbert froze at the sound of his voice. He recognized the man with sandy hair and violet eyes. Though he didn't know the man's name, it wasn't the first time he cornered Gilbert after a show.

"Go away. I'm not working right now," Gilbert snapped. He took a quick step back, but the other man just crowded closer.

"I'm sorry to hear that, but I just want a little time alone with you." The man smiled and Gilbert's eyes narrowed. He wasn't a god damned prostitute! Shoving past the man, he started toward the bar again, but he didn't get far before a large hand grabbed his wrist.

At the bar, Francis let out a groan. "Merde, he's here again!" he cursed. "Excuse me while I call security."

Matthew absently nodded, eyes on what was happening between the two men. He wanted to step in and do something, but that guy was huge and could probably crush him. He instead turned to his attention to Alfred. His brother would be able to help much better than he could.

"Hey Al?" he asked, trying to get his attention. The other didn't seem to hear him over the noise in the bar. He tried again a few more times before sighing. "Someone needs a Hero."

At the word, Hero, Alfred's attention snapped to his brother. "Who? So me where, my mighty side-kick!" He exclaimed, eager to help now. Matthew pointed in the direction of the two men and Alfred was able to figure out what was going on by looking at them. He got up and went over to the two, grabbing on tightly to the wrist of the larger man, the one holding the one with white hair.

"I think he wants you to leave him alone." He stated, eyes narrowing as he looked up at the man.

Ivan only thought the bunny was cute and he liked cute things. He wanted cute things and he never understood why the cute things he wanted did no want him back. This particular cute thing seemed to really not want him, but maybe he only said that? That's why Ivan liked to ask more than once. He was just about to demand the cute bunny come home with him when someone grabbed hold of him. Ivan's eyes slid over to the foreign hand.

"And I think it's none of your business," he said with false cheer. Despite the pitch of his voice, it managed to sound icy cold as did his smiling eyes. He shrugged off the boy's hand and in the process, lost his grip on the bunny. While his back was turned, Gilbert escaped to the bar. "Didn't your mummy tell you not to start fights you can't finish?"

Alfred glared at the taller man, hands clenched into fists. He hated guys like this. Ones who wouldn't back off even when it was clear they weren't wanted there. "I can so take you on, you Commie Bastard." he said, his voice just as cold as the other's was. He was fully prepared to fight this evil villain and be the hero!

Matthew looked at the albino when he came over to the bar. ".. Are you alright?" he asked, concerned. He was a bit upset he wasn't able to help him with that guy. But, by the looks of it, Alfred definitely has it under control.

Ivan's brows furrowed in an overdone expression of confusion. "Commie? You seem to like to spout words you don't understand." He shook his head with a few tutting noises. He was a proud Russian, but he took offense to the idea that meant communist. Did American's know nothing about the world outside their own country? Russia hadn't been communist in years. "I have no time to talk to little kids." He turned away and started looking for the dancer again.

Gilbert dropped onto a bar stool and Francis handed over the imported beer before he even had to ask. "Sorry, I know Elizabeta told them not to let that guy in, but I hear he's a high roller. Probably paid someone off," Francis said before he slipped back to let the quiet kid make his move.

One eyebrow raised, Gilbert glanced over at the owner of the quiet voice he almost didn't notice. "Huh? Me?" He let out a short bark of a laugh. "I'm totally okay! No big Russian is going to push me around!" he announced despite the fact that it looked like that was exactly what had been happening.

Little kid?! He was no little kid! Alfred reached out and grabbed the Russian by the arm and swung him around punching him hard in the face. Calling him a little kid was another point against the taller man that he needed to be punished for. And he was just the hero to do it!

"That isn't what I saw." Matthew told him. Then instantly regretted it. He wasn't one to talk back like that. And when he did he normally got punched. He finally got his chance to talk to the guy and he instantly ruined it. His eyes dropped to the bar as he waited for the other to snap at him.

Ivan let out a little noise in surprise as the fist crashed into his face. Though the noise sounded just a little fake since his eyes didn't even widen. He brought a hand up to cover his now bleeding nose. That didn't bother him that much. When he realized a few drops of blood had landed on his cream colored scarf though, his smile twisted. "This is my favorite scarf." With that, he slammed his hand into the boy's face, palm open.

Gilbert's face fell in an instant, looking almost horrified to have the truth pointed out to him. "Ah...uh...t-that's..." He glanced away to hide the pout that wanted to form on his face. "It's just that he's got totally creepy eyes and 'Liza will hit me if I get into a fight again," he decided to use as an excuse. "I could take him." Gilbert glanced over at the dance floor where a ring of people had formed around the two fighters. "This is interesting though."

Alfred knew he should have expected the hit that came. But he didn't. When it did, he winced and stumbled back a step or two and cupped the spot that was hit. He glared at the taller man. "It's on now!" He exclaimed, tackling him.

Matthew was a bit surprised he wasn't hit for what he said, though he didn't let it show on his face. He didn't know who 'Liza' was, but he or she sounded though. He looked in the direction the other was and wasn't surprised by what he saw. He stated ghee and got up to get his brother to stop.

Ivan didn't go down from the tackle, but he was surprised that he had to use his strength to right himself and fend off the kid. Were those muscles bunching under his shirt? "On? Pray tell me, what is 'on'?" he asked in a mocking tone. Americans said the oddest things.

Gilbert blinked in surprise when the person he talked to tried to leave. It made him anxious. He hated when people left in the middle of the conversation even if he hadn't wanted to talk in the first place. Since Francis wandered away to do his stinking job, Gilbert had no choice, but to jump up after the blonde. "You're not going to interfere in that are you?! We've got people for this!"

Right on cue, a tall man with short blonde hair and a stern expression shoved his way through the crowd. Or rather, the crowd avoided him. He walked right up to the fighting pair and pulled them apart. "'M gonna have t' ask ya to leave."

Alfred was ready to keep going but stopped when another tall man pulled them apart. "This guy totally started it." He told the guy after he was told he was going to be kicked out. That wasn't fair. He was being the hero. People shouldn't get in trouble for that.

Matthew stopped when he saw what he guessed was security go over and stopped the fight. How didn't want Alfred to get in trouble for helping, but the guard was intimidating so regressing anything he could do so he stays in his seat.

Ivan pouted and pointed a finger at the blonde kid. "No way, he grabbed me first! I didn't do anything wrong!" he whined. The bouncer didn't care what they had to say though. As was his job, he 'nudged' the two men right out the door.

Gilbert yelled after them for good measure. "That's what you get for being a Russian douche!!" Feeling satisfied, he went back to reclaim his beer.

Leaving the two fighters on the doorstep, the bouncer addressed them. "First warning," he said to Alfred, then turned to the Russian man. "Third for you." And then he parked himself in front of the door again, looking like an immovable statue.

Alfred glared at the Russian for a little bit longer before leaning against the wall. There was no way he was going anywhere without his brother. They were supposed to be spending this evening together after all. He should be in there with him. How dare that guy throw him out for helping someone! You're not supposed to be punished for that, right? The world needed to know of this injustice! He pulled out his phone to tweet about this.

Matthew sighed as he watched Alfred and the stranger be escorted out of the club. He knew he was going to have to follow him or his brother was going to wait outside for him all night. Just when he finally got his chance to talk to the dancer too. He stood and pulled out the money for their drinks. ".. I have to go...." He told the bartender.

Ivan wiped his now bloody hand off on his jeans before glaring one last time at the american. He was even tweeting after all of that! At least his nose had stopped bleeding, but he'd still have to go home alone tonight. Again. "Can I have your name?" He'd have to think up an appropriate punishment for this offense, but not now. He'd look him up later and like a shark, swoop in for an unexpected kill. The thought made him smile.

"Of course," Francis murmured as he took the money. He actually got the two to talk, but it hardly lasted. He bid the kid farewell and turned to see Gilbert face plant on the bar. Both of them seemed to be thinking the same thing. So much for that conversation! Not that Gilbert gave a flying hoot about conversation, or people in general. He just didn't like being bored.

Alfred looked up at the Russian when he heard him speak. "There is no way I'm giving you my name you damn Commie." He told him. How dare this guy ruin his night then ask for his name! The nerve of him!

Matthew looked back at the albino for a moment. ".. Bye.." he muttered before leaving. He headed outside and looked around. He found his brother a few feet away with the man from before still here. His eyes narrowed slightly as he headed over.

"Hey. You ready to go?" he asked towards his brother.

"You bet! This club was lame anyway." Alfred told him, walking next to Matthew and throwing an arm around his shoulder as they walked away.

Ivan sighed and watched the two of them go, his hands twisting in his scarf. "Aw, and I was going to say that I thought he was interesting..." Or something like that.

Francis poked the dancer with his empty beer bottle. "So..." he started after clearing his throat. The pale man didn't look up at him. "That quiet kid who just left, I think he's got the serious hots for you."

Gilbert lifted his head to glare at the bartender. "So?" He didn't see how this was relevant to him.

"Come on," Francis sighed. "I told him it was a long shot, but don't you feel like proving me wrong for once?"

"You're always wrong, Frenchie. And I really don't care who's interested in me or not!"

"Why?!" Francis pressed. "Do you have a boyfriend back home? A girlfriend? If you tell me why you're not interested, I'll stop pressing, but I've been your friend for a year and I think I deserve to know what your issues is!"

Gilbert froze before he slowly pushed back from the bar and paid for his drink. "How about, it's none of your damn business," he hissed before he walked away. Even if they said talking helped, he didn't want anyone to know his secrets. He didn't want to let people in that close, because he didn't need them. People meant nothing.

Matthew and Alfred ended up just going back to Alfred's apartment to play some video games. After what happened at the club, neither of them were really in the mood to go drinking. Not that Matthew was in the first place. He looked over his brother's wound and was happy to note that nothing was broken. With that out of the way, they just got some beers out of the fridge and started playing.

The day ended on a weary note and Francis found himself thinking about a certain blonde cop when he fell asleep. The next day, he woke with a groan and checked his messages before anything else. Nothing new despite the fact that he had close to two hundred numbers in his phone--the fault of his job of course. For some reason that didn't sit well with him, so he went to the name of the man he fell asleep thinking about and sent a quick message.

'Have you eaten lunch yet?'

The message sent, he started the long process required to make him presentable to the world. In other words, a bathroom full of beauty products.

Arthur was on patrol today with his partner at the wheel when he heard his phone go off. He pulled it out and looked at it. When he saw it was Francis, he couldn't help but smile a little. But he quickly wiped it off so his partner couldn't see. He sent a message back saying 'Not yet. What did you have in mind?'.

Francis had just finished putting after-shower conditioner in his hair when his phone went off. Smiling, he typed back a response. 'Depends if you have time to meet with me. Might be a surprise'. He put his phone in his pocket and wandered back into the kitchen where he'd started boiling some water. Although it might be unreasonable, he'd like to make his new boyfriend a home cooked meal while he was on the job. Boyfriend? Francis paused as he thought. Well, he supposed they were something like that now.

Arthur looked at the message before giving a side-way glance to his partner. He felt a bit bad about ditching him, but they always had lunch together when they were on patrol. He could handle eating alone once, right? 'I can make time. Where do you want to meet?' he sent back. He was curious about what Francis had in mind. The curiosity overrode any guilt he felt over ditching his friend.

In between sauteing his bacon, Francis managed to type out a response without getting too much food on his phone. 'Wherever you can sit down and eat. I'll bring the food," he sent. After adding the meatballs to his skillet, he thought of something else to mention. 'And bring your appetite.' He had a tendency to make enough food to stuff a person for an entire day. But really, what was the point of a meal that didn't make your heart and your stomach burst? Humming, he started on the French onion soup.

Arthur looked at his phone then looked at the time. 'I'll be available in about an hour. Where do you want to meet?' he sent. Their patrol would be over by then as long as nothing major came up. Then he wouldn't have to ditch his friend and he wouldn't have to feel bad about it. Everybody wins then. Except maybe his partner.. But he could find someone else to eat with after all. So it would all work out.