--------------

Title:Magna Pacella.

Sequel to Magna Skouris which is a sequel to Magna Graecia.

Prequel to Magna Maia.

Author:Rodlox.

Summary:Marco learns of Eamon's intervention.

Rating:T.

POV:Eamon.

Author's note:Eamon Pacella has guest starred in another 4400 fanfic of mine: in the third story of the 'Chat with Ducks' trilogy (http: s 2965545 1 ...in which each space is a / ) This uses slightly different backstory, having no Jordan/Diana history, but Eamon is the same.

Eamon's disability is the opposite from that of Isadore Bell's (who appears in a 4400 fanfic here: http: community. dianamarco 8418.html#cutid1)

-------------

Marco's taken me to see the third 'X-Men' movie. He knows I sympathize with Rogue, empathize with Marie. Its just as much a risk for that character to touch someone as it is for me to touch someone...which is why I never offered to shake the hand of that Diana Skouris. I'm just not always as quiet as Marie.

"It'll be nice to have another Diana Pacella in the family," I say, trying to ignore the sight of a perfectly good waterfountain being turned into an accident waiting to happen. "After all, the last one was, what?"

"1802," Marco answers automatically, then probably hears himself. "What do you... You didn't, did... Eamon?"

"What?" and pass him the popcorn.

"Thanks and no. You talked to her, didn't you? I went to that meeting at work...you said you were going to the museum." I'm your cousin, I don't lie.

"I did," I say. "And she was there."

"Interesting coincidence." And I know how little he believes in those things called 'coincidence.'

"I'm telling you, it was," sipping at my soda as the Mutants rally together. "And if I had use of both my arms, Marco, I'd've embracd her myself." Since its a dull scene, I look over, and he's got one of his 'I'm trying not to react' faces on. Okay, back to the film. "So, since I can't, have you at least?"

"That's none of your concern. I thought you wanted to see this movie."

"Marie's not in this scene," I say dismissively. "So what about Diana?"

"She's not in any of the scenes." Oh so funny. Forgot to laugh.

I sigh and raise my left arm, angling it in a way that there's only one arc for it to follow. "Cousin," and he looks: my arm's all set to swing across to the railing next to me...there's only half-a-seat between my butt and it. If my hand hits the railing, I'll be in pain, with a big mark at the impact site... If my hand misses, my shoulder at least gets jarred, possibly dislocated...

...and either way, when my body tries healing the damage done, we both know what'll happen.

"You wouldn't," Marco says, very quietly, very directly. Any other time, you'd be right, cousin. However...

"If the only way for you to be with the woman of your dreams is for me to be away, breathing through a tube and eating through a straw, then that's what I'll do."

"That won't be neccessary." Well that's a relief. I happen to like having a hand. "But you need to stop pushing."

"'Pushing'? You think I'm pushing? Remember uncle Urban?" Urban Thomas Pacella, named after a Pope.

"I remember."

"Know what he would've done?"

"As soon as I first mention Diana, he'd insist that I marry her."

I nod. "No dates, no nothing. GET OUT OF THAT LINE!" I shout at the screen, my cry echoed by other members of the viewing audience. "Aren't I nice?" grinning and watching the screen.

"You're family." Times like this, you're really your mother's son -- that whole 'you're family, 'nice' and 'mean' are irrelevant when it comes to family.' Bull. "Can you back off a little? At least don't bug Diana."

"Who's bugging? I had a nice chat with her. She's got really kissable lips, you know."

Absolute, utter silence.

"What?" Marco asks me, his voice colder than anything Iceman could accomplish.

"Well they look kissable. And with a reaction like that, don't try telling me you can't have feelings about her...or at least her lips."

"I work with her. On a daily basis. We have to..." and he goes on and on. I think he's trying to convince himself more than me...because he knows I don't like losing arguments.

"This is because of Sheila, isn't it?" I interupt. Good grief, antelope horns? Oh the punmeister will grab that and run. Ooooh. My bad.

"Diana is nothing like Sheila." I should hope not. You were nearly twenty then, helping me and dad console poor Sheila Beckett, just having been dumped, when lo and behold, she abruptly asked, 'aren't I pretty?'

You told her 'yes' and froze. I was sitting across from you at the table, cousin; I saw how relieved you were - tried to hide it, though - that she didn't pursue that answer.

Marco stands up and moves three seats down the row. Hit a nerve, didn't I?

He finally comes back just as Juggernaut starts playing chase - or tag - with that through-the-walls girl. "I'll talk to Diana," he tells me as he sits back down. "And you're going to the 4400 Center."

"Good, now -- what?"

--------

The End.

Author's note: the "breathing through a tube" was inspired by a line from Methos in the tv series 'Highlander'.