August 23, 2017:
Danny Rand and Luke Cage meet after an event where Luke played bartender. Danny's bad at business, Luke's good at doing that bartender sage advice thing. Danny still doesn't know what kind of booze he likes. Also, shoes?
A five star hotel meeting room owned by Rand
Posh AF.
Characters
![class="image1"](http://cmbeta.wdfiles.com/local--resized-images//class="image1"/medium.jpg)
NPCs: None.
Mentions:
Plot:
Mood Music: [*\ None.]
Fade In…
The event that Luke just got finished working isn't exactly what you'd expect from a corporate affair. When you imagine a private reception with 20-30 high level Rand executives in a posh hotel, you think suits, martinis, classy finger food and a lot of talk about ROE, synergy, monetizing things, and taking holistic approaches to next generation sustainable storytelling - among other buzzwords.
What Luke probably didn't expect to witness as he tended bar was all of said bigwigs lotus-pose on the floor, barefoot, as Danny Rand, the returned CEO of Rand Enterprises, led them all in a meditation circle. It's not really new-age meditation, like the kind you'd see at a corporate retreat with a yoga instructor named Cindy. It's serious stuff, or rather, Danny seems to be taking it seriously.
Since Danny is their boss, the collection of executives whose six to seven figure incomes are paid by Rand, they humour him. After the meditation is over, they get down to business, though it's rather informal. When they try to talk numbers, Danny keeps steering the conversation back towards people. It's not a terrible approach, but he also reveals gaps in his knowledge about how his own company works. To his credit, he did wear a suit for the occasion, albeit a fairly casual one with no tie. Once he goes barefoot for meditation, he never puts his shoes back on.
Needless to say, the executives come up for multiple strong drinks and mutter to each other about their crazy CEO. They also talk about changing companies, either seriously or not. Some actually defend him and point out that his dad wasn't always conventional either, and that the kid's had a hard time of it.
When the event is over, Danny can still be found meditating at the far end of the room. He really does seem quite into it, and either doesn't know or doesn't care that the others have mostly gone.
*
When you get hired to bartend an event at Rand Enterprises, the normal bartending uniform of jeans and a t-shirt just won't cut it. Thankfully he's getting paid enough by the vendor to cover the expense of getting a 'big and tall' suit off the rack tailored a bit better to fit his large frame. Even with that, Luke was happy to loosen his tie a bit after the shindig is officially over, because this man was probably why the term 'monkey suit' was coined. The second thing to go was the jacket, and now he's rolled up his sleeves to start the clean up of wayward glasses and cocktail napkins that litter the room.
"Done with that?" Luke rumbles to the meditating Danny, indicating a tumbler near the man that he assumes was Danny's, not really mindful of whatever the man is currently doing in ignorance.
*
Danny's meditation is really a heightened state of awareness rather than zoning out. His face is calm, his body natural in the lotus posture. Slowly, his breathing changes and he opens his eyes. He looks down to the tumbler, then up to Luke. "That's not mine. I haven't had anything." And then he adds, "Yet. Is the bar still open?"
*
"It's open as long as the boss man says it's open." Luke replies with a hint of amusement coloring the deep notes of his voice, stooping to swoop up the cup in one massive paw but still manages to hold the delicate glassware gingerly. "I imagine after all of that, you could use a drink. Let me guess, you're a … gin and tonic man?"
*
Danny Rand looks up at Luke, then folds his legs out from under him gracefully and stands. He's taller than he seems to be in bearing and build. He's six foot himself, which doesn't mean much when you're standing beside Luke Cage. "The boss man?" He looks around a moment, and then clues in. Oh, he means him. Right. "Sorry, I'm still not used to being that. The boss, that is." He looks over at the bar. "I don't know. What's that like?" A gin and tonic that is. "People have given me drinks since I've been back, but they don't always tell me what it is."
*
"Tastes like you're licking a rock." Luke answers honestly, but hey. Some people like that. Both rock licking and honesty. "Maybe you're better off with something fruity." The man moves around the bar that's been set up, the mobile thing ready to be wheeled away at the end of the night. There, Luke deposits the used glass into a rack to be washed back in the kitchens and he wads up the napkins and tosses them in the trash with a little jump shot. "Not much of a drinker, huh? People like you are bad for my business."
*
"I just haven't had a lot of opportunity," says Danny as he moves over to the bar. He shrugs off his suit jacket and drapes it over a nearby chair. "Most of what I've drank has been…" he searches his memory for the term, then snaps, "Moonshine. Or this really intense, really sweet plum wine. But I don't know my Manhattan from my mojito."
*
"Being assumed dead has that effect on people." The words come distractedly as Luke skims the bottles and plucks one from it's resting place, flipping it to add some light rum to a shaker before he inundates it with different fruits. The thought that he might have said something offensive doesn't occur until a moment later, when he flashes his eyes up at the CEO. "Sorry man. I just, you know, heard the rumors." Or read the the news stories, or saw the headlines.
*
Danny leans heavily on the bar and rests his chin on top of his arms. He looks tired, and younger than he is. He smiles a little. "It's not like it's a secret." What seems to be is just what exactly happened to him. Kidnapping is the most logical and the most accepted theory. Kidnapped and forced to live with some kind of cult or religious order in some far-flung part of the world. But if that's the case, why was Rand never contacted for ransom money? And if they were, but Harold Meachum wouldn't pay it, that's a scandal all by itself.
*
"None of my business, right? I know, I'm just the hired help. But man to man?" With a quick shake and strain, Luke sets down a deep red drink in a martini glass in front of Danny. "If you're going for the whole 'eccentric billionaire' thing, you've got it down. I thought you were going to lead them in a round of Kumbaya there for a second."
*
Danny huffs out a breath and sits up. "This wasn't Boy Scout camp. I was trying to get them to clear their minds so we could have a focused discussion. But they're all so pent-up. It would take weeks working with each individually to get them to the place they should be." He looks at the drink. He drags it towards himself and sniffs curiously before taking a sip. Once he does, he can't seem to decide whether or not he likes it. To his credit, he doesn't make a judgment right away.
*
Luke pulls a bar towel from his back pocket, even in a suit he keeps one tucked there out of habit. He starts mopping at his hands as he watches Danny try the drink. "Yeah, welcome back, man. The whole of New York has something stuck up their … pent-up. They're pent-up. The question is, why aren't you? I mean, a man back from the dead usually has some sort of vendetta, but you're all … chill."
*
Danny stands up a little straighter, rolling his vertebrae as he does. "It's not chill, man. It's not. I'm lost as hell, and I don't know what I'm doing." He looks over his shoulder to see if anyone lingers, but it's just cleaning staff. "I guess since I didn't grow up in New York, I don't have the same…baggage? Preoccupations?" His face knits in a confused expression. "I'm not explaining myself well."
*
There is a sharp chuck of laughter from Luke as he relaxes back against the counter behind him, "No, no you're not." There's not much more to do that won't take him away from the bar, and as long as the bossman is drinking, Luke remains at his station. "But, no offense, you're rich. You don't have to make sense if you don't want to. The real kicker is though, with all that money, you can find someone to teach you what to do."
*
"The trick is finding someone to teach me who won't try to manipulate me." Danny sighs, cranes his neck towards the ceiling, then drops his head. "Everyone in this city has an agenda." He tries a sip of the drink again. He either decides he likes it, or he's too polite to say he doesn't. He smacks his lips, then trie to look Luke square in the eye. "You're…not a reporter or something, are you? Joy told me to look out for stealth reporters."
*
"Does /anything/ about me say I'm stealthy?" This gets said as Luke swipes a hand to indicate his form, all two hundred plus pounds of it. "Nah, man. The only reason I'm here is to make some extra scratch before I head on a trip to help a friend. Though your friends tip for shit." The man starts moving again, mixing another drink, this time no shaker required as he pulls the gin bottle. "That was a rum runner. Now this is a gin and tonic. Opposite ends of the spectrum. We'll work our way in until you find something you like."
*
That makes Danny smile. "I don't know. I've seen some pretty stealthy big guys." Danny sounds like he means it. Then again, he sounds like he means everything he says. He eyes Luke's tip jar, then reaches for his jacket. He pulls out a leather wallet that looks brand new, then thumbs through and pulls out some cash. He drops three hundred and fifty bucks into the tip cup like someone might drop a few bucks. He closes the wallet, then slides it back into his jacket. "I'll make sure your included gratuity makes up for that in the future. I think these people are a little too used to drinking on the house. Have you noticed the richer people are, the more they seem to get for free?" says the billionaire. But where he was, he clearly wasn't one.
When the drink is done, he pulls it towards himself and sips. He pulls a face, smacks his lips, then tries another. "…I can't…" he sips again, pulls a similar face. "Nope." He snaps his fingers. "You know what that tastes like? It tastes like licking dandelions. My grandmother had a huge lawn that had a dandelion problem. My cousin taught me how to make little curly cues with the stems. I remember putting my fingers to my mouth after playing with them."
*
"No, man…" Luke groans as the money is dropped into the jar, yet for his grumble, he's not exactly quick to pull it back out either. He needs the cash if he's going to traipse off to Wakanda on a whim, and his credit cards are already weeping in advance. As Danny tries the next drink there is a deep chuckle from Luke's belly, "Not the worst way I've heard it described." Says the man who described it akin to licking rocks earlier. "But you're preaching to the choir, sorry if I don't believe that you know what it's like on the streets though."
*
"The streets? You mean like," Danny points out at the expansive window. Below, the city twinkles. The poor neighbourhoods and the rich shine just as bright from up here. "I know the streets where I grew up. I know my way around, even though it's changed. But do I know what it's like to live out there? No. But I know what it is to go without. Which…" he holds up a hand. "…I know isn't the same thing. But a month ago, I wasn't a billionaire."
*
There is a slight twist of his head, as if the large man isn't quite convinced. "Just where /were/ you all that time?" Luke leans forward then, interest plain in the shine of his eyes though he flashes a fan of fingers. "Not a reporter." He assures again, before any ulterior motives are questioned again.
*
Danny makes a motion that means to try another drink, since he hasn't yet found one he likes. He rolls his shoulders back and ponders how best to explain it. After a moment, he settles on, "I guess you could call it a monastery. But they taught us to fight as well as meditate. And they didn't care that my last name was Rand, or even what that meant."
*
"If you're a monk now, shouldn't you have your head shaved in one of those little hair donuts?" Luke isn't a terribly worldly man, most of his life confined to Harlem and the other boroughs, and it tends to show during times like these. Of course, he doesn't seem particularly bothered by the fact either, as he sets about making Danny yet another drink. "How about a vodka martini? Dry means less vermouth, dirty means more olive juice, but I'll make you a regular one for now."
*
That makes Danny smile. He leans on the bar and fingers through his thick, messy curls. He needs a haircut. It's on the agenda. Joy wanted it to happen before this meeting, but he kept forgetting the appointment. There'll probably be a barber in his office waiting for him tomorrow. "Not that kind of monk. Though they did shave my head when I was an acolyte." As for the drink? He just nods. Trusting, that. Or perhaps not too fussed.
*
All these mixed drinks, and Luke has yet to just offer the man a plain old beer, but he's still operating under some assumptions about the billionaire whether or not they ring true. "Bald is beautiful." Is intones in that rich bass of his as another glass is set down, and the last one is whisked away to the bus tubs. "So you're back. Now what? The company is yours, your a fish out of water - or so you've said - what are you going to do with it? It's a lot of responsibility but a company like Rand could make some real changes around here."
*
"Or so I've said? Do you think I'm pretending to fail this badly?" Rather than sounding self-pitying, Danny is clearly poking fun at himself. "Trust me, I'm not that good of an actor. And I'm a terrible liar." As for the question? "Still figuring that out. But I know my father wouldn't want me to walk away from what he built. And if I'm convinced they're running things the way he would have, I might still step back."
*
"How can you fail if you've barely started?" Luke points out, gesturing widely with a wave of his towel. "And like you said, everyone has their own agenda around here. The minute you take a step back, all they're going to do is feel free to play while the boss is away. If you want the responsibility? Own it. It doesn't just go away because someone pats you on the head and says they'll play nice." A hand flies up in capitulation, "Sorry. Sorry. Not my place. You going to want anything else?"
*
"I tried to lead business executives in deep meditation," says Danny. He lifts a hand and lets it drop. Then he rubs his forehead. "I don't know why I thought that would be a good idea." He raps his knuckles against the bar and pushes back. "I'll let you close up shop. Thanks for the drink roulette." Even though he hasn't found one yet.
*
"Yeah, thanks for that, by the way. Me and the waitstaff got a good chuckle out of seeing some of those suits rolling around the ground." Luke flips his towel up over his shoulder, pushing up his sleeves a little higher on his forearms. "But I respect it. The effort. Thanks, boss man."
*
Before Danny gets more than a half step, he turns back and says, "What's your name?" Because he isn't the kind of guy to let the people who serve him remain anonymous. That's kind of what he's trying to fight back against.
*
"Luke Cage." The man rumbles, flicking a glance up at Danny again. "But don't fire the service just because of me and my big mouth, I'm contracted out." Because when someone asks for his name in these situations, it's rarely a good thing.
*
This particular young CEO and what is usual doesn't really go together. "No, not at all." He extends his hand towards the other. "Danny." No Mr. Rand, no title, no Daniel, even. Just Danny. "Thanks for the chat."
*
"Thanks … Danny." The pause comes with a smile, because no doubt everyone knows Danny's name. Unless they've been living under a rock, like the man himself had been. Luke shakes his head with a low laugh on his lips again as he goes back to tidying.
*
Still. Knowing his name and being explicitly told to call him by it are two different things. Danny nods once, smiles a little, then heads for the door. He gets about two steps out, before he reappears to quietly collect his shoes. Then the strange young man is gone, leaving the bartender to clean up in peace.