NOTES: I'd wondered how it was Marco had learned about Dr. Max Hudson and Diana's apparent interest in the pusillanimous physician. It was interesting to hear in the commentaries that Max was, indeed, originally intended to be a love interest for Diana. I'd always planned on writing about Max saying "no" and Marco saying "yes" to Diana and Tom's request for information. I think it might have been more interesting from Diana's point of view, but I'm really not too sure what she was thinking, romantically, during this episode. Was she in denial? Blind? Callous? Honestly not interested? Mommy's Bosses suggests otherwise. Regardless, I wanted an even split--six from Diana's POV and six from Marco's--so this one's Marco's. My apologies that this one isn't too cheerful, but I was trying to keep it in tune with the episode. Thank you for the beta, PurpleYin!

SPOILERS: through The Fifth Page

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


TWELVE STEPS

STEP 11: HONESTY

Being of Italian descent, Marco was, by nature and nurture, an emotional being. But, as a man of science, he preferred to be both logical and rational, and he liked to think these aspects of his character were not mutually exclusive. Yet he found himself at an impasse, with his feelings running riot over sensibility. Even in his current state, he was too self-aware to deceive himself. He was jealous, and it was making him petty, curt and irrational. Intellectually, he knew he had no right to any of it, that his behavior was unprofessional, uncalled-for and inappropriate, but he couldn't help himself. Sure, maybe having gotten little to no sleep for the past three days and doing the work of his whole department were contributing factors, but that hardly excused his attitude. To make matters worse, NTAC was facing another crisis, one that might make the last one look like a walk in the park.

He'd accidentally stumbled across his emotional pitfall while reviewing the files for the lockdown incident, looking for possible connections to the illness that was sweeping through the returnees. If only he hadn't found out. Sometimes it was difficult to argue with the old saying that ignorance is bliss. It was a stray comment from one of the 4400 about "perverse flirting between Dr. Hudson and that agent with the little girl." Such an observation was obviously subjective. That's what his rational mind pointed out, but instead of letting it pass, he dug deeper. In doing so, he uncovered more evidence that Diana was, indeed, attracted to the handsome doctor who was taking care of Maia. Worse, the physician had risked his life to protect Diana and the other women from the NSA agents and a rampaging Tom. Recalling all Diana, herself, had said about "Max," it was difficult to believe her preoccupation with the head of NTAC medical was purely due to his involvement with Maia's illness. But the backlog of urgent Theory Room work didn't offer any time to deal with it, let alone a chance to talk with her. Besides, what would he say? It wasn't as though she'd thank him for dumping his feelings onto her while her daughter was seriously ill. Considering that his research might somehow uncover a vital lead to the cure, she would likely think he had better uses for his time.

At least, with everyone else in the Theory Room on sick leave or farmed out to other departments or agencies, he had Intel Room 3 to himself. With no new abilities to contend with and all the focus being on NTAC medical, there wasn't as much to do, but there was still just the one of him to do it. Not only did the extra workload keep him distracted, being the only one around meant there was no one upon whom he might lash out. Unfortunately, it also provided him the perfect environment in which to stew over his situation with Diana as well as underscore just how alone he was.

With Ryland back as NTAC's director and the special agents "taken to the field," there had been no need for a morning meeting. That had meant he would probably not see Diana, which had suited him. Just as he'd settled into a round of thought-consuming number crunching, he'd gotten a phone call from Diana, asking for a file she should have had access to, herself. When he'd said as much, she'd insisted he bring it and hung up, doing little good to his mood. Upon his arrival, Diana and Tom had closed their office doors and explained that they had invited the neurochemist Dr. Burkhoff to share his research with NTAC medical, but that Max had refused to reciprocate. They wanted Marco to dig up the files for them.

He'd felt a lot of different things at that moment--satisfaction that Max had proven himself to be unreliable, pride in knowing he was the better man, aggravation at always being the one they expected to do this sort of thing for them, and vexation at the audacity of Diana turning to him when things hadn't gone as she'd hoped they would with Max. Had she really thought every guy would break the law for her just because it was the right thing to do?

Muttering a colorful Italian curse he'd once learned from his cousin, he'd shaken his head and left. Both of them had followed him back to the Theory Room, courting his sense of right and logic. Of course he would do it, but that didn't mean he had to be happy about it.

"This is going to take a while." He settled into his chair. "What should I do with them once I'm done?"

"I'm thinking someone might notice me or Diana dropping something off at The Center." Tom smacked him on the shoulder. It was the second time in as many minutes, and it had been annoying enough the first time. "Can you do it?"

"Sure." Not as though he wouldn't recognize Burkhoff.

"Good."

He heard someone leave, but even without looking, he knew Diana was still there.

"Marco, what's going on with you?" She sounded disgruntled yet worried, but he didn't check to see which was in her eyes. Fatigue was wearing his multitasking skills thin, and getting through the security around the medical files would take concentration.

"You don't want to know." At that moment, he really believed it.

The feeling of her hand on his shoulder caused him to stop and look up. Her gaze was guarded. "I asked, didn't I?" She had never initiated contact before, and it was doing uncomfortable things to his confused psyche. "Is it because we're asking you to do this?" Her voice was quiet, serious.

"Partially."

Tilting her head back, she leaned against his desk and pulled her hand away. It was as though she had taken his heart with it. God, it hurt. "If there was another way..."

"There was another way, but...it didn't work. I'm your backup." With a sigh, he let go of the uncharacteristic snideness in his voice. "Just...try to remember that I said yes while he said no."

That got him a snort. "A surly and reluctant yes."

"But a yes none the less. Look, I don't know about you, but I...I've barely slept since the lockdown." It was a poor excuse for his behavior. She deserved the truth. What did it matter if he told her? "And...well...I'm jealous."

Her eyebrows shot into her bangs. "Jealous?" She said it as though it was ridiculous. "Of who?"

How could she be so oblivious? "Max."

"Because we went to him first?" Both of her hands flew up in frustration. "It only makes sense to go straight to the horse's mouth."

"Not because of that."

Apparently, he'd conveyed enough with his tone and expression that he didn't have to spell it out, because she looked away and discovered a sudden fascination with a hangnail. She didn't wear nail polish, not even clear. It was one of the countless little details he loved about her. As she fussed with her cuticle, her mouth opened and shut a few times until she finally found the words she wanted to say. "Marco, I...now is not the best time for me."

"I know. I'm sorry. You asked."

Gazing out the office window into the empty corridor with a resigned smile, she nodded. "I did." She laughed at herself. "I guess, sometimes, ignorance really is bliss."

When it came to personal matters, Diana was not always the most articulate person, and, with him, she had a tendency to not say what she meant. So he didn't know how to interpret what she'd said. "Diana..."

"I don't mean to use you. I just..." Her shoulders swiveled in an unconscious expression of her discomfort. "With Maia so sick..." It was an even mix of desperation, frustration and helplessness.

After having been buried under the less pleasant emotions that had been dominating him, lately, the sudden surge of empathy that washed through him was refreshing, if not wholly welcome. "I'm worried about her, too." That got her to look at him. He'd revealed enough; it would be better for her if they fell back on their more detached, professional relationship. "But you're distracting me from accessing those files, and the sooner I do..." It would be better for him to stick to professional mode, too, no matter how difficult it might be.

"Right." With a shove, she straightened. "I'll see you later."

"Yeah."

A few moments after hearing the door close behind him, he reached for his antacids and tapped one into his hand. With no one else there, he hadn't been bothering to keep the bottle in a drawer. Washing it down with some water, he tried to ignore the chalky texture and fake, fruity flavor in order to focus on the task at hand. There were two ways he could break into the database--the careful way, which would take hours for him to cover his tracks, or the brute force method, which would take a fraction of the time but reveal himself to any decent hacker who might investigate the matter. Given the stakes, he went with reckless. It wasn't as though he'd be the only one to go down if this blew up in their faces, and as much as he might like his job, he had to admit that he really wouldn't want to work at NTAC without Diana and Tom.

Starting up his classical music selection to help soothe and inspire him, he shut out everything else and got to work.