NOTES: After digging up a description of the upcoming episode Lockdown, I expect this to be decanonized by Sunday. Regardless, my muses insisted I write it, so it's getting posted. It's a bit more thoughtful than fluff, but I confess it's also completely indulgent. Diana/Marco. Unbetaed. Enjoy!

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

SPOILERS: through Hidden

RATING: T

It was late by the time she got home. Unlocking her front door as quietly as possible, Diana Skouris slipped out of her pumps so as not to wake her daughter with the sound of heels on the entry floor. Draping her coat over the back of a dining room chair, she padded into the living room to find the television on but muted. Marco was stretched across the sofa, fast asleep, the remote on the floor beneath his dangling hand. The scene stirred something warm within her. Setting her shoes next to his under the coffee table, Diana knelt for the remote and switched off the TV then studied the man in blissful repose on her couch.

She'd gotten a call into work just after eight. The regular sitter already had a job, and their house keeper was having a birthday party for her son. Mrs. Skalko down the hall had watched Maia three days earlier, and Diana didn't feel right asking twice in the same week. So Marco had been her best hope for an emergency babysitter while she and her partner tracked down a wayward 4400. Besides, Maia hadn't seen much of him while April had been staying with them. Even though it was a Saturday night, Marco had accepted without hesitation, just as he always did. Twenty minutes later, he'd arrived with a laptop in one hand and a board game in the other. She'd told him elevenish; it was now the small hours of the morning. He looked so cozy and peaceful that she was torn between leaving him be and waking him so he could leave. With a pang of guilt, she realized she hadn't even asked him about his plans, just taken for granted he'd be there to help.

Unguarded in his slumber, his relaxed face was almost childlike except for the dark stubble and glasses. He had such shapely lips. She often watched people's lips as they spoke, but it surprised her to consciously observe this intimate fact. Slightly parted, their inviting curves ignited temptation in some reckless part of her heart. Taking a moment, she examined that urge. Was she romantically interested in Marco? He was smart, charming, a reliable friend. Although a bit scruffy with his rumpled clothes and underbrushed hair, he was not an unhandsome man. Actually, he was one of the most stylish men she knew, an issue the other Theory Room guys teased him about, not that such superficial attributes should really matter. She'd been too distracted with worries about one of Maia's visions to appreciate the comforting hug he'd given her recently, or perhaps she hadn't wanted to appreciate it. Either way, she could still remember the spark of awareness that had shot through her the first time he'd touched her, just a supportive hand on her shoulder. That on top of her current reaction suggested a definite attraction. Marco had certainly expressed interest, however teasingly. So what was keeping her from him?

Was it that they were coworkers? Office romances were almost never a good idea. Still, considering how distant their departments were, it seemed a paltry excuse. Was it his age? He wasn't that much younger than she was. Both his position as head of the Theory Room and the thoughtfulness of his frequent advice to her suggested a maturity that easily equaled her own. Was it because she had Maia? Certainly, she felt she didn't have enough time for her daughter, but spending all day, every day with her wouldn't be enough. And was she really supposed to forego all other relationships until Maia turned eighteen? Besides, Maia liked Marco. Was it that she questioned Marco's intentions? It wasn't as though he was the kind of man who talked to her chest. Without asking him or giving him the chance to tell her his intent, how could she know? Yet he had put himself in a very precarious position for her sake, one that could lose him his job or worse. He may have acted like it was a small matter, but his forgery of Maia's diary had given her the chance to shield her daughter from NTAC's prying eyes. How much more serious could he get? When he'd offered her the diary, it had sent a thrill of excitement and dread through her. It was almost like the feeling she'd had when Maia had asked to come home with her. Something about being wanted terrified her.

That was it. She was afraid. The last time she had truly opened her heart to someone, it had left her emotionally bankrupt. She'd thought she would never feel love again, then lonely little Maia came along and threw a wrench into the workings of her solitary existence. It hadn't been easy, but it had been worth it. Nothing brought her the same satisfaction as being Maia's mother. What kind of satisfaction might she find with Marco? Was she ready to take another big personal step? The recent experience with her sister had shaken her confidence, but sending April away had left her with an unexpected emptiness--she missed having another adult in the house. In spite of that nagging ache, she didn't want to make another mistake, least of all one that might negatively impact Maia's life. Yet wasn't it irrational and self-defeating to avoid something for fear of failure? And Marco wasn't a something; he was a someone. He didn't deserve to be treated like a potential problem. From weaving everyday life into work conversations to babysitting her child in the middle of the night, his involvement in her life had developed incrementally. Despite the occasional nudge in the direction of something more, he had never pressured her, and it wasn't as though it was something they'd have to rush into. Perhaps, if she let him stay, she could discover how she felt about seeing him in the morning, sharing her space in a more familiar fashion than having a quick meal before leaving him to babysit while she went on an assignment.

Diana stood and pulled the blanket off the armchair to drape it across Marco. Perching on the edge of a cushion, she reached out, gingerly removing his glasses and setting them on the coffee table. She'd never really had a good look at his face without them; it was beautiful. Thick, dark lashes twitched against his smooth cheeks, and he opened his eyes. They were black in the halflight of the living room.

"Diana...?" He sat up straight, blinking at her uncertainly as though he'd been caught snoozing on the job. Then his worried frown faded into a quiet smile. "You're home. How'd it go?"

"Later than planned but otherwise fine." The casual quality of her voice surprised her, considering how his waking had affected her pulse. So much for her little plan. "I'm sorry I woke you."

"Huh?" He took in his surroundings, noting the blanket and squinting to read the wall clock in the living room. "I'm sorry you had to work so late." He seemed perfectly content to stay where he was, leaving to her the decision concerning his departure. Then again, there was no way for him to get up without displacing her. He was always careful with her like that; it made her wonder what had happened in his life to make him so cautious despite his flirtatious exterior.

"Look, I really owe you for this." His habit of attentively watching her eyes made her self-conscious. Looking at her hands in her lap, she saw they were fidgeting and willfully stilled them. "Why don't you stay? Maia and I can take you out to breakfast in the morning. There's this great little pancake house down the street. If you'd prefer, you could sleep in the guest room."

"I wouldn't want to impose..."

She nearly laughed. "You came to watch Maia on half an hour's notice. I'm the one who has imposed, but if you have plans for tomorrow morning..."

"No." His denial was a little too quick. "I don't have any plans."

"We have plenty of towels, and the sheets were changed just yesterday." Why was she trying so hard to convince him? "Do you really want to drag yourself back across town in the middle of the night?"

"Of course not, but..."

"But?"

"There's more to it than that." Usually so open in his speech, his hesitation after such a cryptic statement caused her heart to lurch. She shouldn't have pushed. A tension began building between them until he seemed to come to some decision. "I don't want you to take this the wrong way, and no matter what your answer is, it won't change my support of you and Maia, but I'd like to know...is there any chance we could become more than just friends?" The longing in his eyes belied his mild tone.

"I don't know," she whispered truthfully, "but I'm willing to find out."

Before some more analytical part of her brain interfered, she leaned over and kissed him. His lips were as firm as she'd imagined, but she hadn't anticipated they would be so skilled. There was no hesitation in his response, and he worshiped her mouth with unhurried reverence. Reaching up, his hands gently caressed her back. Their warmth seeped through her suit into her skin. Any question she might have had about her desire for him evaporated in the heat that washed through her blood. Leaning into him, she reveled in the feel of his arms as they wrapped around her, but she could sense restraint in him. A sliver of vexation worked its way into her psyche. How could he still have control while she had none? Then again, his reserve was understandable given that she'd never before encouraged his attentions.

Panting, they finally parted only to stare at each other, unsure what to do next.

"Tell me what you want." His voice was rough with emotion.

"What I want?" She wanted to drag him to her bedroom and...

"From this, from me." He kept anxiously running a hand along her arm as though to assure himself she was real. "We're not exactly following along social norms, so I don't know what's appropriate."

Appropriate? "I'm running on instinct at the moment." Some part of her was disappointed that there could be anything awkward between them after such a kiss. "What do you want?"

"Honestly?" He was plainly dubious about the prospect.

"Yes."

"You won't be scared off?"

"I don't know."

"Well, then..." He looked away from her, a ghost of a grin playing at the corners of his mouth.

"Tell me." She was surprised by the insistence in her tone, her fingers clenching the fabric of his shirt.

Marco took a deep breath and let it out slowly before squarely meeting her eyes. "I want you, Diana." He ran a hand through her hair, brushing her cheek with his thumb. "I want to make love to you every night and wake up to you every morning. I want to help you in times of trouble and celebrate the good times. I want you happy and safe, and I want you to want me the same way."

Overwhelmed, she wasn't sure what to say. At least there was no question of his intent.

"If I can't have that, I'll settle for being what you need me to be." His tone was resigned.

Smoothing his bangs, she gave him a reassuring smile. "I don't think I'm ready for all that just yet, but you shouldn't have to settle." She kissed him again with slow and tender care. Leisurely, he traced her jaw with his thumb then stroked her throat. It was comfortable and exhilarating all at once. If only she could bottle this feeling! Reluctantly, she pulled away. "For now, why don't you stay in the guest room, and we'll see how things go in the morning."

"You could sleep after this?" He flashed a quick, mischievous grin. "We could always make out all night."

"As nice as that would be, I don't want to have to explain what we've been up to when Maia wakes up."

"True." Trailing his hands down her arms, his look grew serious. "Just tell me you're okay with all of this..."

"Progress?" she offered with a smile. "I'm the one asking you to stay."

His expression grew a bit sheepish. "Right. Recall I was asleep five minutes ago."

"Let's get you to bed, then."

Standing, she offered him a hand up, which ended in a hug. It was not like the heated embrace they'd shared earlier but rather like that quiet moment in the NTAC parking garage when she'd confided in him about Maia's latest vision. This time, she let herself enjoy it, finding solace in being held. Having lived alone for so long, it was difficult for her to take comfort from anyone, yet somehow she knew Marco would never judge her weak for it. If only she could convince herself. His stubble against her cheek felt foreign but not unpleasant, and she found his breath on her neck surprisingly sensual. It would be nice to get used to hugging him. Eventually, he pulled back, and for a long moment, he simply stared at her. Without her heels on, her nose just came to his chin; it was a little strange looking up at him while standing. She wasn't sure what he saw in her eyes, but it seemed to satisfy him. With a nod, he bent to fetch his glasses off the table.

She led him to the spare room and turned down the bed for him. They said their good nights with shy smiles, then she was alone with her thoughts in her bedroom. Too tired to think very long, she mechanically shucked her suit, slipped into her regular sleeping tank and shorts and climbed gratefully into bed. For the first time since the month or so after she'd bought it, the queen sized mattress felt too big for her. Despite an unquenchable spark of anticipation about the next morning, she managed to fall asleep fairly quickly. Her dreams were warm and pleasant.

Waking to the smell of coffee, Diana slipping on her robe and made her way barefoot to the kitchen. There, she discovered on the table a breakfast of French toast, scrambled eggs, fruit salad, ham sautéed in orange juice and a fresh pot of coffee. On either side sat Maia and Marco, pleased with their efforts and smiling at her arrival.

She couldn't imagine a better way to start the day.