Hey!

Just wanna say a huge thank you to everyone who read, and a Mikita hug for those who reviewed! Everyone is so sweet. I swear, I was grinning like a crazy person while reading them. Haha.

Well, anyway, I guess most of you already know where this story is heading. ;)

Okay, so…

Update time, guys! Enjoy! :)

Chapter 1: Expectations

"You cannot keep putting me in the middle of your relationship. It's not fair to me. It's not my job." – 2x02

Barbados.

He should have known, he thought. Nikita always dreamed for a place by the beach.

It just never occurred to him that she'd actually go for that dream without him. Or at least, telling him.

He had to find that out through a MI6 agent.

Took them long enough though, almost driving him mad with the wait. He couldn't believe it took them 6 years before they managed to get a location. Nevertheless, he was thankful for the agency's help.

With blessings from Cassandra and his now-11-year-old son, Max, Michael wasted no time chartering the earliest flight he could get to the tropical island.

The sun was already preparing to set in the Atlantic by the time he arrived. Smoothing the crumpled paper he had been holding on to ever since he left London, Michael checked again and made sure he was at the right address. But since this was the only structure in a half-mile radius, he didn't really need to doubt if this was it.

Set at the end of a cul-de-sac of palm trees, was a beautiful 2-storey villa. Clearly Spanish-inspired with the verandas, balconies, large windows, and shingled-roof made out of reddish-brown clay. Though it exuded a rather comfortable and homey quality despite the isolation, it still maintained a sense of picturesque elegance in an understated manner.

Just the way Nikita liked it.

Michael felt his chest tighten a bit. This was the house Nikita pointed to him in a magazine the last time they were here, a few years back, after that whole thing with Ramon. Nikita said that she wanted this house, or at least, something that looked like this. He told her back then that they were going to buy this one when everything with Division and Oversight was over.

But it seemed she didn't really wait.

What bothered him most was that, why didn't she tell him?

And that's just the first question. There was still a long list of things he wanted to ask her.

Making his way up the house, Michael was met with a familiar-looking black Maserati pulling out of the bricked driveway. The car purred to a stop the moment the driver saw and recognized him. Stepping out of the car, while pulling off his sunglasses, the first thing the driver said was:

"Oh, you've got to be kidding me."

Michael raised an amused eyebrow at him, "Nice to see you too, Birkhoff."

"No, no, no, no," he muttered, walking up to his friend, "What are you doing here, Mikey?"

Eyebrows knitting in confusion at the strange welcome, Michael asked, "Where's Nikita?"

A brief smile passed Birkhoff's face. Then, placing his hands on Michael's shoulder, Birkhoff turned him around and pulled him down the driveway. He told him, hastily and with a sense of nervousness in his voice, "Y'know, it's great to see you and all, Mikey. Totally missed you, man. Oh, and I'm fine, in case you wanna know. Nikki too. But now's not really a good time so you should just get back to London. Speaking of which, how's that kid of yours – Max, right?"

Michael stopped walking and turned back to stare at his friend, puzzled. This definitely was not the reaction he was expecting. There was something making his friend act this way. "Birkhoff," he said, almost warningly, "what's the matter?"

"What? Nothing!" He scoffed, but his voice raised an octave higher. Birkhoff cleared his throat before talking again, "Nothing, Mikey. What makes you think that?"

"Because, for starters, it doesn't need Shadownet to know you're lying."

"Oh, I uhh…" Birkhoff trailed off, busted.

Grabbing the split-second opportunity, Michael stepped around his friend and made his way back up the house, his interest piqued because of Birkhoff's reaction to his presence. Though a second later, Birkhoff overtook him and stood in front of him, blocking his way. Michael took a step to the side, but Birkhoff followed. He took another in a different direction, but his friend continued to oppose him.

Realizing this was going nowhere, Michael sighed and asked, slightly annoyed, "What, Birkhoff?"

Knowing he couldn't exactly take the other guy on physically, Birkhoff exhaled deeply and then just admitted, "Uh, I just don't think it's such a great idea, man."

"What is?"

"You seeing Nikki."

Crossing his arms across his chest, Michael asked, "And why is that?"

Birkhoff sighed and stared at his friend as if he was talking to a kid, "You don't see it."

The statement struck a sense of déjà vu with Michael. A slight frown crossed his features. "See what?"

"Mikey, when you left six years ago to play house with little Max," Birkhoff explained, "did you ever stop, even for just a second, to think about how Nikki felt?"

"I did," Michael said, looking around the area they were in. He never imagined that he'd be talking about this (and to Birkhoff, of all people) in the middle of the driveway just minutes of his arrival. "But it was so hard at that time, and then Nikita told me to stay. So I –"

"Oh, that's just great," Birkhoff gibed as he shook his head lightly, "I thought you knew Nikki better than that."

The other man was silent.

"Of course she'd tell you to stay," Birkhoff continued, "it's Nikki we're talking about here. She's all about the picket fences and rainbows. You know how she's all hardcore with the family stuff. And with her and you and Max and the kid's mother, she'd rather take her self out of that equation."

"I didn't –"

"Y'know, she said that a part of her just wished you fought harder, Mikey. That you shouldn't have let her go just like that. Because that's all she really wanted: someone to fight for her."

Michael stared at his friend, feeling like he was hit in the chest with a sledgehammer. Birkhoff was right: he should have known better. Nikita had always been the martyr, sacrificing even her own happiness for the benefit of others. And he should've known her enough to realize that she wouldn't think twice if it was for him.

He should have seen that when she walked away from him in London.

"What happened, Birkhoff?" Michael asked his friend cautiously, scared of what he was to hear… what he had done.

"The first few days were rough," Birkhoff admitted, nudging a stray pebble with his shoe, "it was like trying to piece Humpty-Dumpty back together again blindfolded. I gotta tell ya, dealing with female hormones is beyond me. After the third week, I just had to call all king's horses and all – well, almost all – the queen's men."

Michael raised his eyebrows in disbelief. He couldn't even begin to imagine what may have happened during that time, for Birkhoff to call for help. And the fact that they didn't even bother to call for him made him feel worse. Guilt racked his mind. He should have been there for her.

He had to make things up to Nikita somehow.

"How is she now?" he asked.

Birkhoff scratched his head in uneasiness. He had always imagined and played this scene out in his head, on what he would do or what he would say the next time he met Michael again so as to make him pay for what he made Nikki go through. She was like a sister to him, and to see her broken and suffering, it brought out a protective streak in him.

But seeing the remorse and longing evident in Michael's eyes made things harder for him.

This situation was way much easier in his head.

"She's, uhh… better, I guess." Birkhoff confessed. Looking at his friend squarely in the eye, he said, "But that's the thing, Mikey, she is now. You walk in through that door, and then when you leave again, you're not the sorry schmuck who's gonna be stuck picking up the pieces."

"But I'm not leaving without seeing her, Birkhoff." Michael said firmly, shaking his head, "It took me and the MI6 six years just to find–"

"Seriously? That long?" Birkhoff's face twisted in incredulity. "If this were a kidnapping, we would've been dead–!"

"Yeah, well, you didn't exactly make it any easier. But that's not it, Birkhoff," Michael told him, "I have waited too long for this. And if I didn't fight for her then, I am now. I will make things work between me and her."

Birkhoff eyed his friend closely, unsure of what to do. "I don't know, Mikey…"

"And I'm never leaving again, not if I can help it."

"That remains to be seen."

"Do you really hate me that much?" Michael asked lightly.

"What? No," Birkhoff said. "It's just that… God, I hate being the bearer of bad news."

"What are you talking about?"

"Just," he shrugged, "word from the wise, my friend: expect the unexpected. People change over time, man... And it's been a long time since you've last seen Nikki."

Michael's eyebrows knitted, "What do you mean?"

Birkhoff looked at the orange-red horizon for a second before gazing back to Michael, "When you walk into that house, just don't expect that you're still the only one who holds Nikki's heart anymore."

Sooo… how was it?

Thoughts? Recommendations? Guesses? Corrections? Let me know!

And well, okay, I'm sorry for disappointing anyone who thought Michael was finally going to meet Nikita in this chapter. It's going to be in the next! So, please, patiently wait for it. :)

Thanks again for reading (and also to those who are gonna click the Review button down below)! Haha!

Oh! And one last thing! How awesome was that last episode? Nikita and Amanda rocked that one! Well, everyone did. So excited to see what's gonna happen next - better prepare our Mikita hearts for that one, I guess. Gah, I feel like April 20 is so FAAAAR away!

This show should totally get renewed. It should not even be in question.

- Dani