Burn Notice #1: The Waiting Game

Burn Notice #1: The Waiting Game

Burn Notice #1: The Waiting Game

==Sionis Industries==

October 31st. 04:00

"Early start, eh?" a voice called out.

Bookworm nodded, his briefcase held tightly against his chest. "Indeed," he replied, as he climbed the stairs. Guarding the door, was a brutish man dressed in a white judge wig and an accompanying black mask. One of the many eccentricities David Li had grown to live with as Roman Sionis’ bookkeeper.
The guard raised his hand out. "He’s in his office right now."

"Yes, thank you," Li said firmly, moving their arm aside. "I know the way."

October 31st. 04:03

"These arrived today," Li said laying a brown envelope on the table. "The White Mask files you wanted."

Sionis didn’t reply. Beside him, Warren White let out an amused chuckle.


Black Mask was hunched over his desk, an orange and black box lay opened in front of him, blood seeping from its’ sides. Li approached cautiously, and recoiled at the contents within.

"Is that-?" he gasped.

"Yeah," Roman nodded, still not looking away. "Lucio Moxxom."

Moxxom’s head had been crudely decapitated, a yellow candle stuffed into it’s mouth. His orange spray tan dripped off of it’s face.
Sionis handed Li a bloody note, and he read aloud.

"Roman Sionis. You should have stayed in Italy. A day of reckoning is coming, vengeance for the devestation left in your wake. We, the oppressed will not stand idle while you tear this city asunder. Before this year is through, we will see you burn."

"Happy Halloween…" Sionis whispered hoarsely.

"The results…" Li began, pushing the box aside. "Are legitimate."

Sionis’ red eyes darted towards him.

"His mother’s name was Maria Bowers. Your cook, I believe?" Li said.

Sionis smiled faintly. "Fat bitch, she was…. Pops always liked them fat… Does he know?" he asked. "Franco."

"Not yet," Li replied.

Sionis shook his head. "Before he died, Dad had me kicked out of Janus, disowned me. Me! Moxxom… Moxxom helped burn the paper trail and get me reinstated. If Franco has a claim to the company…"

"Then you better cozy up to the new boss," White laughed.

Li lowered his glasses. "Sir?"

Sionis’ back arched, as he walked towards him. "I want my best people on this, you understand? Actually, scratch that, I want Ferris. He’s an excellent cautionary tale."

Li nodded, "Of course."

==Gotham General Waiting Room==

October 31st. 04:23

Jenna opened a tired eye. Sitting by Gar’s bedside, sharing war stories from the sounds of it, was a tangled mess of hair and bruises. Drury Walker.

"Remember the baby monitor?" he chuckled fondly.

"I remember," Gar scowled, "Having to shuffle my way out of a ventilation duct because you left that damn monitor on."

"We all make mistakes," Walker muttered.

"Just you a lot more than others," Lynns winked back. His eye caught Duffy’s and he cleared his throat. "J-Jenna, you met Drury?" he asked.

Drury rested his cap on Gar’s sheets and offered a gloved hand. "We spoke on the phone," she replied, as she shook it. Their eyes locked for a moment, as they both took mental notes of the other. The silence, was broken when the door slammed open, and Joey Rigger burst in.

"Drury!" Rigger gasped, as he leaned in for a hug.

"Hey, Joey," Walker blushed, as he nudged him aside. "What’d you say you did by the way?" he asked Duffy.

"Building consultant," Duffy smiled.

Drury’s eyes widened, as he turned to Gar proudly. "Building consultant…"

"Don’t-" Lynns warned, as he braced himself for Drury’s patented lack of social awareness.

"Tool Girls, Gar," he whispered knowingly into his ear. "I knew they existed."

Gar recoiled, as he looked at Jenna apologetically. "That’s derogatory, we call them handymen."

Drury frowned, as he places his arms by his side. "Weird. I didn’t see you complaining when Chancer called Rigger "Black Gar" for a week."

Joey shrugged. "Yeah, but he called Pike "Thicc Gar" and Carson "The other one," so it balances out."

A doctor tapped on the door. "Hiya, I’d just like to ask you all if you could give Mr Lynns some space, please. He really needs to rest right now."

Drury nodded. "Sure, doc, just give us a mo."

"Love and respect you ma’am," Rigger added, as put his arm around Jenna and guided her out of the room.

"Who’s Carson?" Jenna whispered curiously.

Rigger leaned over. "Eh, we barely know him ourselves, just roll with it."

Gar’s eyes followed her out of the room, and turned back to Drury, embarrassed. Walker grinned back at him. "I’ve seen that same look in your eye before, Gar. With Clair. You’re… you’re in love," he laughed childishly.

"Shut up," Gar said, punching his shoulder. ‘Ow.’

"She good to you?" Drury asked, watching her sit down through the window.

"Better," Gar said, reaching for his Jello.

Drury nodded warmly. "Good. Good. Because if she wasn’t-"

"If she wasn’t, you’d have no chance in hell in taking her on," Gar remarked, as he took another mouthful of pudding. "She’s not Clair, if that’s what you’re asking," he added.

"Well, no one’s quite like Volcana," Drury muttered. "What a massive, sadistic bi-"

"I’m still living with her."

Drury swallowed. "Lovely woman. Beautiful."

October 31st. 04:37

"Be kind of mean, call a woman a bitch. Place a product, I love my Switch," Blake sang, as he jotted the amended lyrics down into his notebook.

Fiasco threw his cup into the air angrily, as he pointed an angry finger at him and at Sharpe. "If I have to hear one more verse from either of you, I’m going to take this fucking pencil, jam it down your throat and- and-" he trailed off as a bizarre figure caught his eye.

Intrigued, The Misfits looked up at the new arrival, a mess of white fabric and sleek metal. The figure waved, and gestured to a haphazardly placed sticker on it’s chest, reading "Hello! My name is Shit!"

"Not half bad," Chancer snickered.

"He sat in on one of Cammy’s online classes," Drury muttered, defeated, as he came out from behind it, and hastily removed Suit’s nametag. "He’s learning."

The Misfits paused for a second, just staring at Drury peculiarly. And then the silence broke like a foghorn.

"Depression beaaaaaard!" Sharpe and Blake sang in chorus, pointing delighted fingers at Drury. Rigger joined in, and, immediately regretting it, buried his head under a nearby cushion.

Blake turned to Carpenter. "Every time Drury’s sad, or grieving, or in prison, he grows out his beard. The group’s mixed. Some say it’s gross, some say it’s hot. I go both ways. Heh. Woops. It borders on insensitive, but it’s a bit of fun," he said jovially.

As Drury approached him, his demeanor changed slightly, as he cleared his throat. "Killer."


"It has come to my attention that I may have made several inappropriate passes at your wife. I wasn’t myself, and I offer my deepest condolences," he said, offering his hand.

Drury took his hand in his, and nodded solemnly. "Thank you."

"Why’s it always the hot ones…"
Blake whispered, as he sat back down.

Fiasco, examined Drury’s makeshift disguise- a grey hoodie and a baseball cap, and snorted. "You look fucking stupid," he smiled weakly.

"Watch out, Drury, here comes Hydra!" Sharpe giggled.

"Oh, shut up," Drury scowled, as he buried his head into a woman’s magazine.

"Yo, who’s that one Spanish actress?" Blake asked suddenly, as he glanced over at the cover. Drury immediately flipped the page, in a childish attempt to ensure Blake couldn’t read it.
Beside him, Suit tilted it’s head curiously.

"Oh, come on, y’know, the one," Blake yelled to the ensemble. "Brown hair, big can. They’re always the hot wife to the middle aged, balding fat guy in bad comedies. Adam Sandler, Kevin James, the entire cast of Grown Ups, I guess- You know what I mean, it’s inexplicable. I know Will Ferrell is neither ripped nor funny enough to get a… wife."

"Not funny?" Rigger tutted. "Have you seen him in ELF?

Sharpe shook his head. "Heh. Every year in elementary school, we’d watch the start of ELF around Christmas time, but we never finished it. We just had that same hour, looping, over and over and over again. I still don’t know how it ends. Did he ever reconnect with his dad, Rigger? Did his daddy ever love him?"

"Are those tears-?"

"Think she was in Get Hard," Blake said.

Drury looked up from his magazine.

"Elementary school-?" Chuck muttered under his breath despondently, as he caught Drury’s eye. ‘We are so old.’

"That’s nothing, in High School, we were stuck with Home Alone. We never even got to see him defend the damn house," Jenna sighed.

"Sofia Viagra! That’s who I was thinking of!" Blake said, relieved.

Fiasco grabbed Rigger’s arm. "No, no, don’t correct him."

"What the hell are you going on about? Sofia Vergara wasn’t in Get Hard, the wife wasn’t even Spanish in Get Hard," Drury said. "And by the way, she was his fiance."

"Yeah? And how would you know?"

Walker bowed his head, as Suit patted him tenderly on the shoulder.

Chuck groaned in realisation. "Do you just stalk that poor woman’s IMDB or what?"

"It’s not like that! I read the synopsis, and it… It just reminded me of Miranda…"

The Misfits bowed their heads. "Fucking ice cream reminds you of Miranda…" Fiasco hissed.

"She did like ice cream…" Drury smiled faintly.

"I give up! You make everything 20% more depressing just sitting there!" Sharpe exhaled angrily.

Blake turned to Drury. "We really need to get you laid…"

"I, uh, once you’ve had time to properly process your grief, I mean," he added sheepishly.

"So, uh, Drury, what’ve you been up to?" Rigger asked, as he slid beside him.

Drury tilted his head. "Not much," he said, a clear bitterness in his tone. "Since you all exiled me, I’ve mainly been binging a mix of The Room, GLOW and the Prequels on a loop."

Noting his mistake, Rigger took a cautious step back. "My god, he has gone mad."

"Oh, and The Disaster Artist," Drury murmured.

Reardon craned his head over to him. "Oh, I hadn’t seen that one, is it good?"

"Eh, not James’ greatest performance, bit too nasally, rough, even. Dave was so-so. Well played, but he’s just not the hunk Sestero is. Definitely could’ve had Tommy play himself. He was on the bloody set, after all," Drury shrugged.

"It was alright," Chuck concluded, a slight frown on his face. "Didn’t GLOW get cancelled?"

Drury’s face fell. "What?"

His eyes darted towards Suit, who shrugged passively. Each of the Misfits slowly edged their chairs away from him worriedly, anticipating another meltdown.

Instead, Drury took a deep breath, rose from his chair and silently walked towards the vending machine.

"So, wait, that wasn’t why you grew the beard?" Sharpe yelled out.

October 31st. 04:44

As Drury waited for the coffee to finish pouring, he turned his head. Now walking down the halfway were about a dozen GCPD officers, weapons drawn. Catching his eye, Chuck gestured for Drury to hide.

"Evening officers!" Joey said, in an attempt to distract them. The first looked at him angrily, and without a word, Rigger returned to his cup of soup- avoiding eye contact with the other Misfits. As the rest of the group moved past them, The Suit turned to them, and mimed a proud salute.

October 31st. 04:48

Drury stumbled backwards into Gar’s ward, and gasped. Sitting by his bedside, flicking his lighter on and off, grinning was a bizarre Power Ranger of some sort, dressed in a gleaming set of red and gold armour. Standing beside him, Abner Krill- who took a slurp of Gar’s Jello and waved cheerily.

"Yes, thought that’d get your attention," the armoured figure chuckled.

Instinctively, Drury reached for the mirror gun in his holster.

"I wouldn’t" it tutted. "There are a dozen cops outside this room, and about half of those were victims of your GCPD siege. Nicely done, by the way."

"Carson-?" Drury asked, taking a cautious step forward.

"Prefer Mothkiller, actually," the red figure smiled. "Remember me now, Drury?"

"Vaguely," Drury spat back. "Shoulda stuck with Cockroach. Suited you better."

Krill gave him an appreciative smile, and Drury’s focus shifted. "You called the cops?" he asked Carson.

Ted smirked. "Yep."

"You ran over Gar, too I’m guessing."

"Yeah," he nodded, a grin on his face. He was now pressing tightly onto Gar’s chest; Lynns wheezing in pain.

Drury took another step forward. "And you, what, cancelled GLOW?"

Carson’s smile faded. "No? What’s a-"

"You better not’ve," Krill scowled. "I was very invested in Rhonda’s character arc."

The trio stopped and stared at him; Gar, in utter bewilderment; Carson, in seething rage; And Drury, bizarrely intrigued. Krill shrugged slyly.
"Oh, don’t be so surprised- Kate and I used to date, she even wrote a song about me."

"Really?" Drury asked, suddenly very interested. "Which one?"

"I dunno, I don’t listen to that crap. Bet it was popular though," Krill replied through mouthfuls of pudding.

Drury scratched his beard. "Ah. I was actually more of a Ruth fan myself."

"I bet you were," Gar coughed.

"Shut up."

"Hey, different strokes," Krill muttered. "You see Horse Girl?"

"I did!" Drury said excitedly. "I- I was expecting My Little Pony, not existential dread."

Krill smirked fondly. "Wasn’t all bad. Can you believe she married-"

"I’m sorry, can we get back on topic, please!" Carson interjected.

"Excuse me for bringing a little culture to this stand-off," Krill snarled back. "Cunt hasn’t even seen Infinity War."

"I was dead!" Carson snapped back.

"How was that, by the way?" Gar asked smugly.

Ted’s jaw clenched, his eyes bulged, and suddenly, with unseen strength, grabbed Lynns by the throat, and ripped him from his bed. "You know me, "Firefly," I’m a survivor," Ted said manically, as his gauntlets sparked with orange flames.
Behind him, Krill snorted. "You’ve survived jackshit. You’ve just been resurrected an absurd number of times."


"Say, if there were an anti-thesis of plot armour, the wiki page would use your ugly mug. It’d be a redirect, mind. From try hard. And cunt," Krill yawned.

"Oh, I’ve just about had enough of you," Carson growled, as he marched toward an incredibly unimpressed Polka Dot Man, Gar still choking under his grip.

At last, Drury stepped forward, his weapon pointed at Carson’s head. "Let him go."

Ted nodded, and hurled Gar at Walker, knocking them both to the ground; the mirror gun sliding out of Drury’s reach. "Careful, Walker, that’s seven years bad luck, Ted remarked, as he kicked the gun aside. As Drury struggled to get up, Carson slammed his head back against the ground. "You ran me over. You stuffed my body in an aviary, and laughed as I was killed and maimed and tortured again and again," Carson growled, anguish dripping off of each word. "This? This is the least you deserve," he said, as a stream of fire exited his gauntlet, brushing against Walker’s struggling head. "Go to hell, Drury."

Posted by Duncan C. Young on 2020-10-26 19:51:30


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