After the weekend was finished along with his horrible hangover and memories of that unfortunate Friday night, the Englishman pulled on his suit jacket and adjusted his tie. Perfection was absolutely necessary for his first day of his new career in New York. Looking in the mirror one last time, Arthur sighed before exiting his apartment and locking the door.
He went through the motions of flagging down a cab, telling the driver the address that he had been memorizing all morning and waited. And waited. Arthur had wanted to make the best impression on his new boss that he had made sure that he would be arriving a few minutes early.
Paying the cab fee, he grabbed his briefcase off the seat beside him and got out. The building itself was large, as with most in the core of the city. Taking another deep breath, he pushed the revolving doors and went up to the main desk.
"Hello, my name is Arthur Kirkland. Today is my first day and I was wondering where I had to go."
The smallish man behind the desk smiled brightly up at him before looking down to his computer. "Moi moi Mr. Kirkland! You need to go the eleventh floor to Mr. Braginski's office. Have a nice first day!"
Arthur smiled awkwardly at the man who's name tag read Tino Väinämöinen. 'Must be Nordic with a last name like that.' Arthur thought lightly. Following his instructions, he took the elevator to the eleventh floor. Even though he was somewhat nervous, he pushed down the feeling by knowing that he was going to be amazing. After all, anyone that knew him could tell you that he had an above average vocabulary and a sixth-sense for grammatical errors. And in the field of editing and publishing, those were the two most important assets one could have.
With only a little bit of difficulty, he found the biggest office on the floor with the label 'I. Braginski' on it. Once again, he swallowed the last of his nervousness and knocked decisively on the door.
Inside the office, Ivan sat at his desk, signing papers. "Come in." The door opened and he saw the new employee, who was in a nice-looking suit. "Well, you must be Arthur!" He stood up and opened his arms, waiting for a hug.
Unsure just what his boss was trying to do, he put out his hand awkwardly. "Nice to meet you, Mr. Braginski." Arthur didn't feel like it was very professional to hug the tall man, but apparently he thought different. Completely ignoring the hand in front of him, Mr. Braginski wrapped his arms around his small frame and squeezed him close.
"Well, I hope you will like it here. But I am very busy, so it is alright for Toris to show you around, da?" Without waiting for a response, Ivan went to sit down again. Arthur turned to leave, but the big Russian stopped him. "We are very happy to have you work with us. But, just to let you know, if you cause trouble, I will very happily have you fired, and make sure that you never work in this town again." Then he smiled again. "Have a nice day!"
"Thank you sir." He responded, trying to keep out the nervous tone from his voice. As he said, there was a man standing behind him with a passive smile on his face. That must have been Toris.
"Good morning, Mr. Kirkland. My name is Toris Lorinaitis. I will be showing you around, so if you may follow me..." The brunette started walking, unconsciously looking behind him to make sure his boss wasn't following, or peering behind a corner, or behind a plant, perhaps.
Following behind the skittish brunet, Arthur listened intently as he pointed out the main offices of the people who were with the company the longest and listing off which department they worked in. As 'interesting' as it was, he just wanted to know where he would be working. After that, the Briton could meet everyone himself.
"This is the office of... Oh, he's right there." Toris pointed to the man he was talking about, who was in the corner talking to a girl that looked to be in her twenties. He brought Arthur over for introductions.
Francis happened to glance away from the girl and saw Toris walking his way. He turned to great him, but then saw who he was with. Short, blond hair; angry green eyes, yup this was definitely Mr. One-Night-Stand. Great, looks like he actually was the stalker type. But after leaving in the morning without even saying goodbye, why would he come to his work two days later? It wasn't like he could get pregnant...
"Hello Mr....?" Arthur started, holding out his hand for the second time. Hopefully this time the man would get the hint and shake it like a normal person. He looked into the wavy blond's eyes, waiting for his response.
He had found him and not figured out his name? Or was this all a coincidence? There didn't seem to be a look of recognition in his eyes... He didn't remember! Francis could do anything, because Blondy had no clue that they had met before! Yes! He swooped down, taking the offered hand and kissed the back of it. "Bonnefoy. But you can call me Francis, mon cher. And you are?"
Ripping his hand away, he quickly wiped it off on the side of his trousers as 'Francis' stood up. He narrowed his eyes before answering. "Kirkland. But you can call me Mister Kirkland. I'm the new employee in the fiction department."
All the while, the Lithuanian man's smile grew slightly wider. Mr. Bonnefoy was already up to his usual tricks. And the man hadn't been in the building for more than an hour. It definitely was a new record for him.
"Well, Master Kirkland, I am very pleased to... meet you." Of course, it wasn't the first time, but this cutie didn't need to know that yet. Francis walked away quickly, before the blond could retort about the master comment, his hips swaying deliberately.
Arthur spluttered slightly at the comment. "Just what is his problem?" Truth be told he didn't mean to say it out loud, but he just couldn't believe the nerve of him. As if he was struck by an epiphany, he turned around to look at Toris with furrowed brows. "Is that... Mr. Bonnefoy French by any chance?"
"Yes, he is. Actually, hardly anyone that works here was born in America." Toris said thoughtfully. "In fact, we have a wide range of nationalities here. Quite interesting, because it was not planned that way."
"Hm." He left simply. If he had put up with the random shenanigans of the Frenchman, then he had hoped desperately that he could control his rage so he didn't kill him and thus get him fired. It wouldn't be a very good thing to have on a resume. Being fired was one thing, but kicked out of an entire city by blackmail was a whole different thing. One that Arthur never wanted to experience.
Looking back to his 'guide', Arthur asked. "Not to be rude, but where exactly is my desk? I would like to start working as soon as I can."
"Oh, of course. It is this way." Toris led him to his cubicle. Small, cramped, with cardboard-like walls. "Sorry about the size. It is all we had open. I hope you understand."
Grimacing slightly, he plastered a fake smile on his face. "It's ok. I completely understand." Looking at the empty small space, he put his briefcase on the desk and sat in the chair. "Is there anything specific Mr. Braginski would like me to do today?"
Toris spent the next ten minutes explaining what needed to be done. He left after that. Mr. Braginski would surely be waiting for him.
Feeling bored, Francis got out of his chair and walked around. He smiled when he saw his night lover sitting straight-backed in a small cubicle. He walked over and brushed his back with his hand; the same movement that he had done at the bar. "Well, how do you like it so far, Master Kirkland?"
The Briton jumped a foot in the air at the light touch. "What do you think you are doing, Mister Bonnefoy? And will you please stop calling me by such a name. As much as I appreciate the respect, I don't deserve it just yet." He had reverted to his stock glare, his bright green eyes trying to bore holes through the sapphire ones of his co-worker. He just couldn't help but treat the man a little rougher then would have liked to on his first day. All he could do now was hope that he didn't lose his short temper with the persistent man.
"Is that not what you wished for me to call you? You said Master, did you not?" The Frenchman smiled with a knowing look in his eyes. He loved teasing. The fact that the other was English just made it better.
With a sickly sweet -and obviously fake- smile, he responded. "Oh but I'm sorry. I should have realized, with you're first language not being English, that you would have no conception of words that sounded similar. Now if you would be so kind as to leave me the bloody hell alone, I need to do my job so that I won't be fired on my first day. Good day to you, frog." He added sourly, turning back to the manuscript on his desk. The thing was already riddled with red pen marks but nonetheless it was already a good read.
"Certainly. I will presently depart, thus rendering you able to commence your work so you are not terminated from this place of employment." Francis smiled, the words falling easily from his mouth. Yes, English was not his native language, but he had been speaking it for a while.
"Wanker." Before the man even walked away, he turned to his work and started to pen the mistakes fiercely, taking out his aggression on the paper. After a few seconds Arthur looked up again to see if Francis was still behind him. When he did see him, he just growled slightly before hesitantly asking, "What area do you live in? I think I might have seen you walking around the neighbourhood..."
"Haha, I doubt that very much." So he recognized him slightly. Interesting. "But it is nice to know you think I am attractive."
"You wish. I'm sorry that your narcissism won't let you take a simple question the way it was intended." He knew he saw the man somewhere before, he just had no idea where. Was it his flippant attitude that spurred the memory, or the simple fact that he was a Frenchman living in America? Arthur didn't care too much. It was America after all. There was bound to be a bunch of strange people.
"Well, if you think you remember me from passing in these busy streets, I must have made an impression. For me to have made an impression, there had to be a reason for you to single me out of the crowd. For you to remember what I look like, it must have either been my face that was the reason, or something like I saved your life somehow. I do not remember saving any lives, so I figure it must be the first reason." Francis smiled and gave a small wave. "I must get back to work. Au revoir."
Snorting at Francis' logic, the Briton went back to the manuscript to continue editing it. Did this person seriously not know how to speak English properly, never mind write it? If it wasn't for his job, he would have burnt the stack of papers a long time ago. The underlying story was gripping enough to keep him at it, but other than that, it was abhorrent to try and read. Hopefully not all of them would be as bad.
Once in his office, Francis got out his phone and started writing a text to Antonio and Gilbert. It was only nine, so he wouldn't be surprised if they were both still asleep, but he had to tell them.
Guess who I work with now! My sexy blond from Friday night! Looks like it won't just be a one night stand, guys. He wasn't going to simply sit back and watch the Englishman live his normal life. What fun would that be?