After a job well done, the team usually went out for drinks, frequenting one of the few pubs that didn't turn you guys away. Not that you were a criminal. No, you worked for Amanda Waller, a desk jockey, an analyst. Until Waller decided that the squad needed a babysitter.

You.

So now you were stuck with a bunch of maniacs, sitting and drinking at a table. Life...could be worse, you supposed. It could also be a hell of a lot better.

"...An' so I told the fuckin' ankle biter to piss right off, yeah? He wasn't gonna steal my wallet," Digger was saying, much to the annoyance of most of the squad. The ginger man had been talking for what seemed like half the night, the drinks only making his loud personality that much worse. "An' then I nicked his bike."