Daryl Dixon [The Walking Dead] (redneckstryker) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2020-06-28 23:28:00 |
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Entry tags: | daryl dixon, yondu udonta |
Who: Yondu and Daryl Dixon
Where: Lux
What: Yondu greets a new patron and things get weird
When: Backdated to sometime after Daryl's arrival in the OC
Status: Closed, Complete
Yondu Udonta was not used to owning a business, let alone one as busy and high end as Lucifer’s club, Lux. Actually, he realized, he needed to start referring to it as his club as the man had signed it over to him when he left town. It was just not the way Yondu preferred his drinking establishment - he was used to earthy, blue collar, seedy bars. This was a polished, high class, luxury club that catered to those who could afford it or had connections to get their way in. From the top, top, top shelf alcohol to the lovely ladies that entertained to the famous DJ’s they booked - Yondu felt like a fish out of water. Still, over the past couple of weeks he’d made it work, and Ozma had helped him a great deal with the transition and figuring out how to handle everything.
Now he was just walking out from behind the doors behind the bar satisfied that the new shipment of whisky and vodka were all securely offloaded from the delivery truck.
“Kylie, darlin’, can you mix me somethin’ strong?” he called out to the bartender. She was young, lovely, and participated in local MMA matches which meant she could put down any handsy drunks in a hot second and didn’t take anyone’s crap - he was glad he hired her after the last bartender left to move out of state with her boyfriend. She’d been fine, but this one was more his speed.
Kylie smiled. “Sure thing. Anything in particular?”
Yondu shook his head, taking a seat at the bar. “Nah, surprise me.” It was early, they were testing out early hours - meaning 5pm - to try to catch anyone wanting to get an early drink on after work. Looking over, he saw it seemed to be working already. A young man was seated at the bar, drink in hand.
Daryl didn’t particularly consider himself high class, but he did like a high end bar. Seedy wasn’t really his style. He’d come to Lux on a recommendation from someone in the kitchen at Squirrel Creek, and he decided he’d check it out so he could given an honest opinion.
So far so good. The drinks were strong, the atmosphere was about what he’d expect, the bartender looked like she could break a man in half. All par for the course. And then he saw Yondu. Of course he didn’t know his name, or who he was, but he knew that face.
“Merle? The fuck are you doing here?” he questioned. At first glance the guy looked just like his brother. But that was impossible. Merle wasn’t in California, he was clear on the other side of the country on the east coast.
Yondu looked up from his drink, brow furrowing in confusion. The younger man was looking at him as if he knew him through and through. “‘Scuse me?” he drawled in his heavy Alabama accent, cocking his head to the side ever so slightly. “Name’s Yondu, son. Not Merle. You got the wrong man.”
Daryl slid to his feet and took a step toward him. “Yondu? What?” Daryl had met all sorts of people with all sorts of names and didn’t really bat an eye at the unusual name. It was the fact that this guy looked like his brother and was not his brother.
“You look like my brother. Like his freaking twin.” So much so that it was kind of freaky. Up close, Daryl could see subtle differences. He could see that this wasn’t Merle. But for a split second he really thought it was.
Yondu’s eyebrows went up. Oh, if this kid only knew what he really looked like. He sipped his drink and turned to the man fully. “Well, they say everybody’s got a twin in the world, ain’t that right? Didn’t think perfection could be duplicated tho’.” He chuckled, amused at himself. Then he stuck his hand out. “Like I said, I’m Yondu. Udonta. Owner of this joint. An’ you are?”
“Daryl Dixon.” Daryl took hold of Yondu’s hand and gave a firm, strong handshake. He shook a lot of hands in the restaurant business, and having a firm shake was one of the first valuable lessons he’d learned in dealing with people. A weak shake sent a weak message, a firm shake sent a strong one.
“I’m sure my brother would agree with you. He thinks he got all the looks.” Daryl smiled a little at that. His brother was an interesting one. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to stare. It’s just uncanny.”
The handshake was impressive, and Yondu’s meaty hand met it well, squeezing just as hard. He smiled. “It’s all good, Daryl.” He gestured at Kylie, catching her eye. “Make sure this gentleman’s drinks are on the house, darlin’.” She nodded. He looked back to his guest. “So what brings you to Lux so early? You’re the first to test out our early hours, seems like.”
Daryl flashed a smile at Kylie. He appreciated the drinks on the house, but didn’t comment. If Yondu came to Squirrel Creek, he’d set him up the same way. He shifted his attention back to the man who looked like his brother’s twin.
Daryl might never get used to that. He rolled a shoulder. “Checking out the local watering holes, or something,” he said. “Just moved to town, and I’ve heard good things about this place, wanted to check it out, so here I am. Also, I work tonight, so if I wanted to go out it had to be now.”
“Hey! Glad Lux has got word of mouth.” Yondu grinned and raised his glass in a toast, before downing the rest of his drink. “This place has got it all, that’s for sure. Includin’ top, top shelf stuff. So, what do you do, Daryl, if you don’t mind my askin’?”
Daryl lifted his glass to clink against Yondu’s. The guy had personality, Daryl would give him that. He might look like Merle, but he was about as different from Daryl’s brother as night and day.
“I don’t mind.” Why would he mind? He supposed some people might. He wasn’t one of them. “I’m a chef,” he said. “All I ever wanted to be,” he added. He’d always had an interest in food and food prep and what he could do to make a dish his own.
Yondu’s eyebrows went up. “A chef? Nice. Where you located? Might come an’ check out the grub.” He had his favorite local spots, but it wouldn't hurt to check out a new place. He was sure Peter would tell him to expand his horizons beyond dive bars and steakhouses anyway.
“Squirrel Creek Chop House. We just opened a location here in the OC,” Daryl told him. He tugged out his wallet and handed Yondu a business card with the address and other information on it. “Brand spanking new,” he added with a little hint of pride because he was the one opening the location. It’s success was entirely riding on his shoulders.
Both eyebrows went up at the title. Yondu took the card and looked at it a moment before looking up at Daryl. “Sounds like somethin’ straight outta my hometown.” He chuckled. “What you serve there? Y’know, ‘sides the obvious?” There was a humorous twinkle in his eye as he said it.
“The usual, steaks and burgers, chicken, fresh seafood. Various sides, salads, every day features a soup. And desserts, of course. That’s really my specialty.” Daryl was pretty proud of the restaurant, but he was particularly proud of the desserts menu. He didn’t have a whole lot of control over the entrees and such, but he had a bit of freedom when it came to desserts. “I make a carrot cake that is to die for, if you like carrot cake.”
“Sounds like my kinda place. I’ll have to pay a visit.” Yondu grinned. He wasn’t a huge fan of carrot cake, but he wasn’t about to tell this Daryl that. He’d give it the benefit of the doubt. Plus, if he liked the joint enough, maybe the two of them could do some cross advertising. He’d have to run that one by Ozma first, though, just to be sure.
There was some noise in the back where storage was. Yondu’s features darkened a moment and he growled a little. “I gotta go. Got some new kids workin’ in storage. Hope they didn’t break none of that whiskey.” He got up, knocked back the rest of his drink, then clapped Daryl on the shoulder. “Enjoy yourself. I’ll see you around, Daryl.”