"That's it? Sounds easy enough." Arthur stated. This was going to be easy. It would also be an easy way to make the bartender get drunk and more than likely lose his job. Was that something he was really willing to risk for some game with a frog? He thought for a moment before deciding yes, it would be. "Go ahead and ask your first question then." he told him. He ignored the other people at the bar who were trying to get the Frenchman's attention for another drink.

Francis leaned closer, not really caring about anything but this little game. He would start off easy because before anything else, he needed to know this one little thing. "What's your name?" He glanced over at a customer who snapped at him. Raising a hand in a placating gesture, he told the girl to wait just a moment more.

"Arthur Kirkland." He replied instantly. That was an easy question. Though it only occurred to him after he said it that he probably shouldn't have said his full name to a stranger. Ah well. To late now. He thought for a moment. "My turn now, yes? What is your favorite color?" he asked, not wanting to ask the same question though he was curious about the other's name as well. Not that he would admit that out loud or anything.

Francis never said anything about having to answer questions himself, but he figured it was only fair so he played along. Of course he wanted to share wonderful things about himself and therefore seduce this wonderful man into his bed. Because he knew without a doubt he could seduce even the straightest man. "It's nice to meet you, Arthur. Such a lovely name." Actually, it was quite plain, but it sounded nice when Arthur said it with that sexy British accent. "Blue of course."

He paused as he came up with a new question. Perhaps something a little more personal, but not too much so. "What do you do for a living? Since you already know what I do," he said with a chuckle.

Arthur narrowed his eyes slightly when the man made a comment about his name. He sounded a bit condescending, but he choose to ignore it for now since he wasn't thinking completely straight. "I'm a bobby." He said, using the British term for a policeman. He found himself thirsty and took a drink from the bottle before asking "What's your name?"

It took Francis a good thirty seconds to figure out what Arthur just said. Because for a second he thought the guy retracted what his name was an in such an obvious fashion. When he got it though, he smiled, very soft. "I see. It's unexpected but I'm quite pleased to have a policeman at my bar. Next time you're here, remind me to get your a free drink!" That was his own personal policy. Smiling, he answered the question. "Francis Bonnefoy." He decided to share his last name since Arthur had, and well, he actually wanted the other man to look him up in the phone book. "How long have you been in the area?"

Francis, huh? That was a rather expected name for a Frenchmen. It took Arthur a moment to think about the question, trying to remember when he moved here. "Its been just over a year I think..." he said, not remembering the exact date but knowing its been at least a year but not quite yet two. Somewhere between there. "How old are you?" he asked, slightly curious.

So far no one had lied yet, which was slightly un-fun, but they were having something like an actual conversation right now and that had to count for something. It almost sounded like he hadn't forced the other man to interact with him. "I'm 26. Ah, but please don't say that's old...!" he said with a slight frown, more for effect than anything else. He stroked a finger against the little stubble that consisted of his beard. Since they were on the important topic, he figured he might as well ask the same question. "How old are you?"

Arthur took another drink from the bottle before answering. "I'm 25. So no, you definitely are not to old." he stated, not noticing his words were starting to slur a little bit. As far as he was aware, he wasn't even beginning to get drunk yet. "Why did you decide to become a bartender?" he asked, wondering why someone would choose that career path and have to deal with drunk people all the time. He knew he wouldn't have been able to handle that.

Well at least he wasn't old. That would make Francis cry. He so hated being told he was old. Hearing Arthur's question, he chuckled a little. "I love my job. Believe it or not, I love people and talking to them and offering advice. Besides, drunks are amusing. They give me their number and take off their pants and dance the cha cha. I could say the same about you and your job. Really, why want to deal with something so dangerous?" he asked. He'd just assume keep himself as far away from that kind of trouble as possible.

Arthur couldn't help but roll his eyes slightly at the last part of Francis's answer. Of course that would be why he was doing this job. There was no way he himself was going to do that. Nope. No way. He then thought about the question for a moment before answering.

"Well.. It's like you said. I love my job. I love helping people. Sure, some parts I hate. Like when people call you out to help then blame you for what was wrong. But that's in the minority of what it is. When what you do can help save a life, what more could you possibly want in a job? That's the greatest feeling in the world. Of course it could be dangerous. But, it's worth the risk."

"Oh how honorable! You're like a little angel!" Francis swooned almost before Arthur finished talking. To hear such noble words, how could he not fall instantly in love. "My dear, where have you been all of my long and lonely love life?" he continued. Really, he respected the things Arthur said, but love made him a little crazy. "Please tell me your number so I won't have to cry myself to sleep tonight!"

Arthur couldn't help but snort when he heard Francis's request. Sure, it was rude. But his drunken mind was starting not to care about that. "There is no way I'm going to give you my number." he told him. A sudden feeling hit him and he looked around. "Be right back.." he muttered, standing. He stumbled a bit as he headed towards the restrooms.

Francis outright pouted at what Arthur said. At least he knew it wasn't a lie. It would probably be judgement day before the man agreed to go on a date with him. Why did Francis always like the hard to get ones the most? Elizabeta was probably right when she called him a masochist. Before he could finish lamenting, Arthur shoved back his chair and ran off. "Hm? Was he really drunk after all?"

"Would you just quite romancing the customers and get me another beer?!" Someone snapped. Francis clasped a hand to his heart that jumped a little too far. He forgot where he was and had to smile sheepishly.

"Yes, yes. Sorry. I'll have it out in a quick sec."

Arthur stumbled into the bathroom and did his 'business' before going over to the sink. He washed his hands quickly before just staring at himself in the mirror. 'What is wrong with me? Why am I wasting my time talking to that Frog?' he thought. Sure, he wasn't unattractive or anything. But that didn't mean he was going to let anything happen? Right? He wasn't sure anymore and it was getting hard to even think straight. So he just shrugged it off and splashed some water on his face before heading back to his seat.

On his way out, he bumped into a young blond man who muttered an apology before entering the restroom. He went back to the bar and sat down before taking another drink from the bottle.

On the other side of the bar, where the young blond had been sitting, his brother was waiting still for the barman to take his order. "Hey Bartender. Dude! I want to order something!" he exclaimed loudly.

Francis had just finished three orders when the blonde's loud voice made him wince. Honestly, the club was loud, but no need to yell at him even if he hadn't been doing his job. Floating over the other side of the bar, still wiping a glass down with a towel, he forced on a smile. "Yes? What can I get for you?" Although he said he loved his job, he very much wanted it to go away for the day so he could talk with Arthur more.

"Another round of shots! And two beers." Alfred ordered. Finally, he thought. They'd been waiting for like ever now. How else was he supposed to get Mattie to loosen up if the bartender isn't paying attention? All his brother needed was a couple more drinks for sure.

Arthur watched as Francis took care of the other customers, sipping from the bottle. He shook it slightly, noticing it was almost empty. He knew he shouldn't drink any more after this one is gone. But the rational part of his brain was already shutting down. Why else would he be admiring the Frenchman... Not that he was! He shook his head roughly before downing the rest of the bottle, already knowing he was going to order more to get these thoughts to stop.

Francis raised an eyebrow at the kid but arranged the shot glasses in front of him nonetheless. He seemed a bit rude, but that could be youth. Honestly, Francis just didn't expect someone who looked like a college student to drink like this. "Here you go sir." He paused before he fully walked away and scratched his head. "But weren't there two of you before?"

Seeing the empty bottle in front of Arthur, he paused to take it away. "Will you be wanting another?"

Matthew returned to his seat a few minutes later. When he sat, Alfred patted him hard on the back and shoved a drink in his hand.

Arthur thought for a moment. He knew he should really say no. But he was already nodding to the question. "Yes. Another bottle of whiskey." he ordered. He figured, might as well. If he was going to get drunk, then why not go all the way, right?

"A whole nother bottle?" Francis asked with a chuckle. "I don't want to have to drag you home myself! Well actually..." His grin doubled. "Since you insist." He grabbed another bottle from behind the bar and opened it up. When he glanced over the bar to check on things, he saw two young blondes where one had been and his eyes went wide. "Eh? There are two?! Am I going crazy?" he wondered aloud.

"I can handle my liquor just fine, just so you know." Arthur told him firmly, making sure the words would come out clear without a slur. He looked in the direction Francis was looking. "I'm pretty sure I passed on of them on the way back from the bathroom." he told him. "Though I can't be to sure. Didn't see them sitting there in the first place."

"Just making sure my eyesight isn't going with my age..." Francis muttered. He turned back to Arthur with a shake of his head. "But I'm pretty sure that kid over there can hold his liquor better than you can." Despite what he said, he had a fond smile on his face. He'd enjoyed Arthur's antics so far and he was fun to talk to now that he'd loosened up a bit with the alcohol. "But never mind that. You still haven't offered me a drink after all this time."

"You said you'd get a drink if you thought I was lying, right? So, how do you know I haven't been lying this entire time. Everything I said so far could have been a lie." Arthur told him, taking a drink from the new bottle. Yep. That hit the spot. He knew everything he had said so far was true. But only because the questions asked where just so easy to answer. He wants to be able to get Francis to have a drink. But on the other hand, he doesn't want to get him in trouble for drinking on the job. It was a conflict that was difficult to solve.

Francis crossed his arms, offended by the suggestion. "As part of my profession, I happen to be quite good at reading people!" he said with a huff. "Besides, I find people don't lie very well after they've had a lot to drink. So I know everything you've told me quite true. Come on, tell me some random true and untrue things. I bet I can pick out the lie!"

"Alright. I will." Arthur stated, setting the bottle in front of him thinking hard for a few minutes. "One of my favorite things to do in my free time is needlework. I will spend all day just watching Doctor Who and Harry Potter if given the chance. The first time I got drunk I ran down the street completely naked. Once in high school I cursed a boy in my class that gave him painful warts." He said all of this in the exact same tone of voice, giving nothing away.