Most six year old girls signed up for ballet class and pranced around in sprawling, pink tutus, but not this little girl. Most children cried when they skinned their knee, and most fathers picked them up and kissed them, but not in this family. Most kids were taught that fighting was wrong, but this mother smiled every time her little girl landed a solid kick. Michael and Nikita's daughter was certainly not like most girls.
Their bundle of joy had been conceived somewhere fitting only for Michael and Nikita. They had been holed up in a disheveled lean-to in a port city on the coast of the Gulf of Aden, hiding from a few very angry Somali pirates. The superspy couple had a few hours to kill before their planned extraction would be there to fly them out of Somalia. Michael had pulled his shirt off to try to escape some of the brutal desert heat.
"Someone's been in the gym with Owen," teased Nikita as she ran her slim fingers over his bare chest.
"You know, gotta impress the ladies," Michael replied, slipping his hands under her thin, white t-shirt. It wasn't long before her shirt was flung across the room and the two assassins were intertwined on the sandy floor.
Nine months later, Nikita gave birth to the most beautiful baby girl in the world. Owen had been praying for a boy, but the rest of the team had known from the start that a mini-Nikita was coming their way.
The whole team gathered in the cramped room in Division's medical bay. Nikita lay sweaty but glowing in the bed with Michael standing by her side. In his arms slept a tiny baby, swathed in a quilted red blanket that Alex had spent hours trying to make. The stitches were a little crooked and uneven in places but Nikita loved it more than any of the items she had splurged on in the past nine months. Birkhoff had joked about Nikita using up all Division's assets at Babies R Us, and he was only half kidding as her total had run well into the thousands range.
The little girl had big, shining black eyes and sleek, dark brown hair that was surprising long and thick for a new born. Her olive skin shone under the stark Division lights. She was a small baby, who at first might seem fragile, but Alex knew that she would be one of the toughest kids when she grew up. Alex carefully received the baby from Michael and was struck by a longing, maternal sense as she caressed the new born.
"What's her name?" Alex asked without removing her eyes from the stirring infant.
"Aden Michaela," Nikita announced happily, "For her unique but incredible place of conception, and for her father." Michael and Nikita's eyes and smile met. It was clear that they loved each other, and their daughter, greatly.
Michael stood behind the large glass window, looking down over the training area. Aden Michaela sat happily in the middle of a sparring mat, chattering rapidly with Alex, in Russian. At just six years old, Nikita had already taught little Aden Michaela four languages: English, Spanish, French and Russian. Michael insisted she learn Mandarin next but Nikita wanted her daughter to start enjoying some normal six year old activities. This past Saturday, Aden Michaela had participated in her first ever ballet class. And following the lesson, she declared it was also her last dance class.
Aden Michaela preferred Aikido to ballet. She was already taking down boys twice her size but it was hard for her to find anyone to spar against. Children and teenagers were rare inside Division and Michael did not want Aden Michaela showing off her skills in public classes. There were too many risks involved.
It was sad, Nikita thought, that Aden Michaela didn't have any friends her own age. Alex was pregnant with her first child but still there would be a six year age gap between the two children. Nikita and Michael had allowed some relationships to blossom between Division agents and civilians so there were some agents with kids running around. But these children were not encouraged to enter Division so rarely did Aden Michaela see a young face. Nikita and Michael had determined early on that they would homeschool Aden Michaela.
One normal activity that she participated in was recreational soccer. The children's league met Sunday mornings at a big park. Aden Michaela's team wore yellow uniforms that made them look like honey bees buzzing around the field. The disorganized group of girls had a lot of fun running up and down the field. Michael was convinced that his tiny athlete was the best of them all even though she was the shortest of them all. He often garnered strange looks from other parents when he cheered her for knocking another player down. Michael was never known for his great sportsmanship.
Though Michael and Nikita worried about their daughter often, is it a good idea to raise a child inside Division, is she suffering from not having a normal childhood, is she lonely, is she in danger, they knew one thing for sure: their little angel was the most loved child around. A bubbly smile was always plastered on her face, assuring her parents that they were doing a good job raising her.
Aden Michaela was a strong, smart, beautiful girl, living an extraordinary lifestyle. On the streets she might look like just your average first grader, but Aden Michaela was no ordinary child. There was no one like her; Michael and Nikita were proud of that.