Title: Broken

Author: Morgan a.k.a. scgirl_317

Summary: "You took the world's best criminals—hitter, hacker, grifter, thief—you took us and you broke us." After they broke up, nothing was the same. For any of them.

Spoilers: 1.1 "The Nigerian Job", 1.3 "The Two Horse Job", 1.12 "The First David Job", 1.13 "The Second David Job", 2.1 "The Beantown Bailout Job"

Author's Note: Six months pass between the end of "The Second David Job" and "The Beantown Bailout Job".

Hitter

Eliot wasn't entirely sure what to do with himself. After working with Nathan for almost a year, the ex-insurance man's morals had started to rub off on the hitter. He had taken a few odd jobs since the team disbanded, but none of them had set quite right with him, and that unnerved him. So not knowing what else to do, he left the country. He found himself in Pakistan, and once again righting wrongs. The US government was doing some hinky stuff over there.

Eliot shook his head. "Hinky"? Hardison said hinky, but not Eliot. It was yet another indicator of how much the entire team had rubbed off on him. As much as he hated to admit it, he missed them. Not infrequently, he would find himself thinking about them, wondering what they were doing or wishing he had their backup on a job. He'd even check police reports, wondering if one of the crimes listed had been them. But they were very good at covering their tracks, and five months later, he had no idea where any of them were.

With a sigh, Eliot's mind returned to the present. There was no way he could stand by and do nothing while innocent people were dying. The fact that the American people had no idea what their government was doing in Pakistan only made things worse. But he would have to lay low for a while until things cooled off some over there. Helping the Pakistanis was a good idea, but it was a little much for one man. Even if that man was Eliot Spencer.

He decided that going back to the States was probably a good choice for now. He used one of his many aliases to buy a plane ticket to London, where he used his Air Marshal's badge to board a flight to Atlanta. A part of him considered going back to LA, but he knew that if he did that, he'd never be able to put that part of his life behind him. Staying on the opposite side of the country seemed like the smartest move.

Back on solid ground, Eliot found an apartment in Aiken, South Carolina—horse country where he could get a job that didn't involve hitting people. Somewhere where he wouldn't have to constantly watch for gang thugs, but also where folks wouldn't ask too many questions.

Two weeks back in America, he found an envelope taped to his door when he got back from a grocery run. Cautiously, he removed it and entered the apartment. He set the bags on the counter and opened the envelope slowly. Inside, he found a flyer for a production at a Boston theater with a sticky note taped to it.

"Please come, S."

Saying Sophie's acting stunk worse than a dead fish in August was probably being too kind, but at the moment Eliot didn't seem to care. Sophie had been like his sister, and he had missed her. With a smile, he began putting the food away so he could get ready.

He was going to the theater tonight.