NOTES: "It's the first time I've spent the night away from Maia."

SPOILERS: through Suffer the Children

DISCLAIMER: The 4400 and all things associated with it belong to other people.


TWELVE STEPS

STEP 4: SHARING

It was quarter to ten in the enchanting town of Fairview, and Diana had already used the hotel gym until her calves ached, showered, set out her clothes for the next day, called Maia to tell her good night and checked on her sister at the same time. Having just FTPed her day's report to NTAC, she surfed futilely through the few channels the hotel provided while checking on her email. She'd thought it a pointless task, given she'd checked her inbox just a few hours earlier, but there was one new piece of mail. It was from Marco's personal account. With a smile, she opened it.

Fairview must be relaxing if you're ready to call it a night before ten.

MP

She noted that it had been sent just a minute earlier, and suddenly, she had an inspired cure for her boredom. Flicking off the TV, she quickly typed and sent a reply.

It sure is, if you call being surrounded by a bunch of small-minded, hate-mongering Philistines relaxing.

DS

Her software noted an offer to chat, and she activated the program.

M: They can't all be small-minded, hate-mongering Philistines. The principal sounds like a decent guy.

D: I suppose, but if you could have just heard what some of the "unchanged" kids we interviewed said! Suddenly I feel much better about Maia being tutored at home instead of going to school.

M: It's normal for kids to be the mouthpieces of their parents, and a lack of exposure to Philistines now won't protect Maia from them later or make it any easier for her to deal with them.

His reply made her snort.

D: How reassuring.

M: If you'd wanted reassurance, you should have said so. Children eventually grow up and usually become their own people. Speaking of which, Maia's doing fine. No misadventures with food, perfect scores on math.

That she wasn't expecting. After what she'd told him about April, was he worried about Maia?

D: I know. But how do you?

M: I called to see if you were back and chatted with her. She really has a knack for math. It amazes me to think she grew up in an era when girls were discouraged from learning math and science.

D: Being on this case has got me thinking about how she isn't getting any formal arts training.

She was still in awe of Michael Ross' violin performance.

M: She draws and writes, and you cook together.

D: Yeah, but what about music? I remember what a big deal it was, having the teacher come over, practicing every day, the satisfaction of getting a piece right. Did you take music lessons?

M: Piano and guitar.

Somehow, it didn't surprise her; he had nice hands. She'd always been a bit self-conscious about her hands, partially thanks to piano. No matter how hard she'd tried, she could never manage a one octave span.

D: Do you still play?

M: Yeah. Guitar, mostly. Olivia took mom's piano. Having it around made dad sad. Sometimes I play on Grandma Pacella's. A guitar is so much easier to move, and it's quiet enough the neighbors don't complain. You?

D: Not since I moved away from home.

M: Do you miss it?

D: Sometimes I did, especially early on. But science was always my real outlet. Music just made me feel like a grown-up, sophisticated.

M: You don't need a piano to make you grown-up or sophisticated.

She couldn't help but wonder if it was meant as a general statement or a comment about her. Either way, it made her smile.

D: Maybe not now...

M: You're thinking about piano lessons for Maia.

It amazed her how, even without seeing her face or hearing her voice, he knew what she was thinking.

D: She hasn't asked about it, but I think it would be good for her.

M: Piano wasn't a choice for me.

It hadn't been a choice for Diana, either, but that hadn't bothered her at the time.

D: Was that a good or bad thing?

M: Both. Neither. It's good for discipline, math, building bonds between the left and right brain, hand/eye coordination, and there are silent ones that won't disturb your neighbors. Olivia recommends the lady who comes to teach Gianna. Gianna likes her, too.

D: I was thinking I could take her to a teacher, instead, give her a chance to get out.

M: Working for NTAC might make it tough to keep a regular schedule without the teacher coming to you.

D: Tell me about it.

M: Would you rather talk?

D: Yeah, but reception here stinks. How is it we end up staying at the only hotel in Washington where you can't use a cell phone? Plus, I've already used my daily landline quota talking with Maia and April. I don't want to have to explain to Nina why I was calling you at 10pm on the government's dime.

M: Didn't realize she was such a bean counter.

D: That's because you basement dwellers never have any travel expenses.

M: You're just jealous because we have all the best toys.

It wasn't wholly untrue. That was one of the primary reasons field agents ever went down there, to use some of the equipment the theory room agents had been able to procure by skimping on venue and office supplies. When NTAC had been formed and given its own building, Marco had gotten his team to agree to taking the unappealing Intel Room 3 and keeping their old desks in order to afford some of their more impressive technology. He had argued to his team that they would have more privacy and peace and to Nina that the limited space would restrict the growth of his department and utilize an undesirable corner of the facility. Nina had had no qualms about their decorating the place as they saw fit, so Marco and the rest had transformed the cold concrete tomb into a lively, almost fun little space.

D: Sometimes, I wish I was down there with you, instead of out here, dealing with things like this.

M: But you're so good it.

She knew he ment it sincerely, not as flattery.

D: Maybe, but it that doesn't make me feel any better about having to deal with cases like this. I swear, half the reason she's in this situation is because the parents are holding grudges against her from when she taught them as kids.

M: At least you get to directly affect results. Half the time, I feel like no one listens to us, and I know most of the rest of NTAC doesn't know what to really do with us. If it weren't for you, all we'd do is crunch numbers and datamine.

D: Miss me?

M: Always.

It was one just word on a computer screen, so why had her heart skipped a beat? Whether casually written, a late-night confession, a flirtatious suggestion or a calculated response, she couldn't be sure, but it caused her pulse to speed up. Maybe she was just tired and that was affecting her responses. She didn't want to think it was more, at least not tonight.

D: I've got an early day, tomorrow.

M: Yeah. I hear Ms. Tobey is going back to the classroom, and you and Tom will be forcing the fine folks of Fairview to do the right thing. Good luck with that.

D: Thanks. Same time tomorrow?

She couldn't talk like this to Tom; he was uniquely unsympathetic. Being stuck four hours from home with no one to discuss the more personal aspects of work had made her really appreciate her daily discussions with Marco. The promise of another chat gave her something to look forward to other than the guilt of saying good night to her daughter over the phone.

M: Count on it.

D: Good night.

M: Good night.