Heyyy! How is everyone?

As always, I want to take this chance to thank everyone who's been following this story. For the alerts, favorites, reviews… oh my. All of you are just awesome! Thank you so much! You have no idea how much it means to me. :)

Okay, so for this chapter, it's gonna be a bit lighter. A break. A breather. A filler. Or whatever else you want to call it. After all the tension and the drama in the previous chapters, something lighthearted should be needed. And hopefully, still entertaining.

So, here you go with the next update! Enjoy!

Chapter 5: Dysfunctional

"As much as I love hosting couple's therapy…" – 2x02

Sleep avoided Nikita again that night.

If this was going to keep up, she may start taking sleeping pills very soon. But she's hoping it won't come to that.

Getting bored with just lying in bed for hours, Nikita got up and got dressed for an early morning run. She figured that she might as well get fit and be productive if she couldn't sleep.

Padding through the house as quietly as she could, Nikita decided to make a minor detour and slipped in to Ilya's room to check in on her. She almost laughed, seeing that her daughter was splayed all over her bed sleeping peacefully even though her blanket had almost slid down to the floor. Ilya had always been a twisty sleeper.

Which also got her the moniker Little Twister, as Alex fondly called it.

Sleepyhead, Shorty, Twister, and all the other pet names… it's a miracle that Ilya still knew what her real name was.

After re-tucking the pink-and-green quilt, Nikita planted a light kiss on the young child's head and left the room.

On her way to the stairs, she tried not to listen or look at the newly-occupied guestroom as she passed. She didn't want to deal with that right now. She needed to relax.

It was still dark by the time Nikita got outside but the beginning of a sunrise was already evident in the horizon. The dark blue ocean was calm, lapping lazily next to the fine, white sand. The soft calls of early morning wild birds echoed in the distance.

Sprinting along the shoreline of the beach, Nikita breathed in the cool, salty breeze to ease her troubled mind. God knows, she needed that so much after her talk with Michael last night.

Breathe in, breathe out.

Truth be told, she really was happy that Michael was back, that he wanted to step up and be the father he had never been to their daughter.

But a question lingered in her mind… what about the two of them?

Though he said they would make things work, Nikita doubted if they ever could.

Last night, when Michael was calling Cassandra on his phone, Nikita got up and left, not wanting to hear their conversation. She sadly remembered the reason why she left all those years ago without telling him in the first place.

Though Michael didn't really admit that they were together and even acted confused when she told him off for being a hypocrite, Nikita knew that it was bound to happen. That kiss was her proof. Someone couldn't live with a person as beautiful as Cassandra for all those years without something happening. Especially when they already had a past, and a child, together.

There was no point loving a man who probably had feelings for someone else. Even if it was Michael.

It was a gnawing ache in Nikita's chest knowing that there was probably no hope for the two of them. Division, Daniel, and now Cassandra… There was always something or someone that got in between their relationship. Maybe she and Michael were just not meant to be.

Maybe.

But for the sake of their daughter, Nikita would just have to bear with it and move on. She didn't know what else she could do.

For now though, all she could do was run. And she didn't stop until the first rays of the sunrise appeared in the skyline.

It was time to go home and face what would yet become another complex day.

Kicking off the sand from her shoes, she slowly jogged up the stone steps that would lead her back to the house. Entering through the back door, Nikita was suddenly greeted by a delicious, mouthwatering smell. Peering into the dining room as she walked in, she smiled when she saw a plate of steaming tofu scramble set in the middle of the dining table. Like some sort of offering.

Nikita curiously stared at the food for a few moments and then called out, "Owen?"

"Oh good, you're back." His head popped up comically behind the kitchen counter, "Just in time."

"It's six in the morning, what are you doing up cooking?" Nikita asked, taking a seat and pulling the plate towards her. The aroma of the tarragon and saffron were so heavenly that it made her lightheaded. She chuckled. "What happened, Alex kicked you out of bed?"

"Very funny," Owen gibed, straightening up and pulling off the apron he was wearing. He sat across from Nikita and offered her a fork, "Bon appétit."

Taking in a bite, Nikita shivered in delight. She let out a laugh. "I swear, this is so yum."

"Okay, I just gotta ask," he said, watching her in awe and amazement. "Haven't you had enough tofu scramble back when you were pregnant?"

"Umm…" She thought aloud. "No. If I still had a reason that could force you to make this everyday, I would."

"Yeah," Owen chuckled. "Bet you would, bossy as you are."

"Hey, I was pregnant! I had cravings."

"And you were bossy as hell. Like, more than you usually are."

"Shut up." Nikita rolled her eyes.

"It's true." Owen said, picking some unseen lint from the table. He looked back to her with an amused expression on his face. "Though I think that was just Ilya. Do you know that she's starting to become Little Miss Bossy herself?"

"No, she's not. You just definitely have some serious problems with authority, Owen." She laughed. It felt so good to have some humor so early in the morning. Pointing the tines of her fork to him, she said, "And don't even think of adding to Ilya's nicknames."

Owen replied with a smirk.

After swallowing another forkful of the delicious dish, Nikita tilted her head to the side and asked, "So what's the occasion? You don't usually wake up this early just to cook."

"Does there have to be one?"

Nikita raised an eyebrow at him. "In case you haven't noticed, no one in this house is a morning person."

Owen chuckled and leaned back against his seat, clasping his hands behind his head. He told her, "Says the person who was up way earlier, jogging by the beach?"

She smirked. "You guys heard me leave my room, huh?"

"We're all spies, aren't we?"

Shrugging, Nikita confessed, "Couldn't sleep."

"I know."

She slightly narrowed her eyes. "Know?"

"Okay, fine," Owen unlocked his hands and held them out, palms towards Nikita in a surrendering fashion, "Alex told me you were having sleeping problems. And when she heard you leave earlier, she, well... did sort of kick me out of bed and told me to make you something. After yesterday, she's worried about you. We all are."

"Thanks." Nikita let out a gentle smile as she looked down at her plate. She's so lucky to have such great friends who looked out for her. It made her heart expand in appreciation. Pushing around the remnants of the tofu with her fork, she said, "But I'm fine."

"That's what you always say," Owen griped. Placing his elbows on the table, he rested his chin on top of his interlocked fingers. He eyed her closely with his bright eyes as she ate the remaining tofu in silence.

"Stop staring, Owen."

He chuckled. Then commented, "You know, your scrawnier, scruffier other half can be quite a jerk."

Nikita snorted, glancing up to him. "Oh yeah?"

"Yeah. There you two were having your moment and then he mentions Cassandra?" He remarked innocently. "I mean, who does that?"

"Apparently Michael – wait." Nikita paused. Her eyebrows knitted as she tried to comprehend, "How'd you–? No."

Owen shrugged. "Wasn't me."

She narrowed her eyes at him, "Who?"

"Your little computer guy bugged your boy before he went to talk to you."

Nikita's fork fell on the table in a muffled thud.

"And all of you were listening the whole time?" Nikita asked, mortified. Slapping both her hands firmly on the table, she stood up suddenly, scraping the wooden legs of her chair against the dining room tiles. She exclaimed, an infuriated tone coloring her voice, "What the hell – have you people ever heard of privacy?"

"Oh, come on, Nikita, calm down." Owen laughed, staring at the woman, unaffected by her anger. "You know we're all kinda dysfunctional at best."

Covering her face with one hand, Nikita could feel her cheeks go warm as she dropped back to her seat. She couldn't even wrap her head around what she had just heard. Crawling back to her room and never showing her face for the day seemed like a good idea right now. Glancing up at the ceiling, she whispered, "Oh my God… I can't believe this."

"Want more tofu scramble?" Owen offered, trying to appease her.

"Hell no."

The next few minutes were spent in silence. Nikita refused to talk or even look at Owen as he tried to start a conversation. She didn't know if she was so angry or so humiliated at the moment. Because if there was one thing Nikita didn't know how to handle well, it was embarrassment.

Oh, Birkhoff was definitely going to pay.

Still trying to get her attention, Owen scrunched up his nose and playfully teased, "Who knew you could cry like a girl?"

"Owen," Nikita warned, finally looked at him. Her dark eyes flashing threateningly, "if you want to be conscious for the next twenty-four hours, shut up."

I I

"Super dedicated. Super focused. Annoying as hell." – 2x07

I I

Around midmorning, Nikita was found in the living room stooping over a laptop. She kept glancing at the watch as her nimble fingers skimmed rapidly over the keys, completely engrossed in configuring a program. There was only a very small window of opportunity for her to do this. So if she wanted this to work, her timing had to be perfect.

"Nikita?"

Gasping in surprise, she quickly closed the lid of the laptop and turned around, facing a curious-looking Michael. Seeing it was only him, Nikita relaxed and returned to her former task. Her determination temporarily overpowered her slight awkwardness and shyness in being alone with Michael in the same room. She was silently thankful that the soft tapping of the keyboard drowned out the silence.

"What are you doing?" Michael finally asked after a few moments of watching her.

"Getting even," she uttered softly, distracted.

"Okay then," he raised an eyebrow, amused. Crossing his arms against his chest, he questioned, "Where is Ilya?"

"Hiding."

"What?"

Out of the corner of her eye, Nikita saw Birkhoff amble into the room, mumbling something to himself. He was looking at the computer tablet he was holding so he didn't really notice that she was watching him. Perfect, she thought, just in time. Pressing the Enter button, she closed the window from the laptop screen to hide what she had just did.

Straightening up, she called out sweetly, "Hey, Nerd."

"What?" Birkhoff said, not once glancing up.

Putting her hands on her hips and balancing her weight on one foot, she tut-tutted. "You know, I think it's technically called 'cheating' to activate a person's trackers while playing Hide-And-Seek."

"Not my fault your kid's got some wicked spy genes."

"She's –"

"Wait a second," Michael interrupted, "Ilya has a tracker?"

"Trackers, dude. With an S," Birkhoff corrected, walking towards them. He looked up from his tablet to Michael and said, "Shorty's got more trackers than she can count."

Michael looked sideways to Nikita for confirmation. She gave a wry, sheepish smile and shrugged. "I had a microdot tracker implanted on her when she was born. And the earrings she's always wearing – Alex and Owen gave her that –"

"It's amazing that they're not just screw-locked, hypoallergenic pieces of gold jewelry, ya'know." Birkhoff muttered.

"And Nerd, here," Nikita continued, a small smirk creeping on her rose lips, "went on some kind of frenzy a few weeks back and decided to tag every piece of clothing Ilya had."

Michael's eyebrows went way up. He blinked in disbelief. "Does she really need to have that many?"

"Mikey," Birkhoff said, clapping a hand on his friend's shoulder, "sorry to say, but you don't know your kid. And with this game, I am not gonna spend half of my morning combing through an acre of land searching for someone who could be hiding anywhere from a cupboard, to under one of the beds. Like last time. Learned my lesson –," the sound of his tablet beeping cut him off. He tapped a few keys on the tablet and then exclaimed, "Ha! Gotcha!"

Without another word to any of them, Birkhoff turned around and disappeared to an unknown part of the house.

Michael glanced at his friend's retreating form then looked at Nikita, confusion written all over his face. He asked her, "What just happened?"

Nikita stared at the place where Birkhoff had disappeared. She smiled as she explained, "Around three weeks ago, Birkhoff and I made a bet that every Tuesday he and Ilya were gonna play this grand hide-and-seek game. If Nerd manages to find Ilya within an hour, I have to shut up with my comments on the kind of food he wants to eat for a week. But if Ilya manages to stay hidden and not get caught, Nerd has to take her to anywhere she wants using the jet. And he also has to buy her anything she wishes."

"Okay," Michael mused, looking like he didn't know whether to be amazed or appalled at the idea. "That's a bit –"

"Over-the-top?" Nikita offered. She scoffed and rolled her eyes. "Yeah. But surprisingly, they both agreed to it. It's a win-win situation actually. I get Birkhoff out of his computer chair to do some physical activity for an hour, and Ilya gets to enjoy her Tuesday mornings. Either way, I still win."

Amusement fully took over Michael's expression. "I don't recall Birkhoff being so open towards the use of his jet."

"Michael," Nikita said, glancing up to him, "another thing you should know is you just can't say 'no' to Ilya. She has this… charm that has everyone wrapped around her tiny fingers."

Michael smirked. "Wonder who she got that from."

She chuckled lightly. "Besides, everything has been fair 'til now. Ilya hasn't won. At least, not yet."

Taking in her words, Michael chuckled. He closely eyed the woman standing next to him. "Okay, what did you do?"

"Me?" Her doe-eyes widened. She asked innocently, "What makes you think I did something?"

She stared up challengingly to him for a few moments.

"Because I know you, Nikita." He finally said, stepping in front of her and looked into her eyes. A familiar smirk tugged on his lips. "And you have that look."

"Fine. Busted," Nikita laughed, trying to hide her sudden nervousness at his closeness. Looking away shyly, she confessed. "I rerouted all of Ilya's trackers. By the time Birkhoff realizes he's been played, it'll be too late."

"You really want Ilya to win, huh?"

Nikita glanced at Michael, the vengeful yet mischievous glint now visibly obvious in her eyes. "Just giving Birkhoff a taste of his own medicine. He's gonna learn that payback's a bitch. And expensive."

Well, that's it for now!

It wasn't really that funny but at least, it was a bit lighthearted, right?

And okay, so in this story, there is a hint of an Olex pairing. I really love Salex, especially after Dead Drop (btw, how awesome was that episode? And a stoned and loopy Sean was just hilarious!). But it's just… I've originally been an Olex fan for some reason. And since this story takes off right after 2x08, it was kinda hard to incorporate Sean in here. So, I had to go with Owen because it was much easier. Haha.

Anyway, like it or hate it? Let me know in the Reviews, lovelies!

Only 2 more episodes left for the season! Oh my God.

Oh, oh! To give you all something to look forward to what's in the next chappie, here's some teasers: Cassandra comes in, and Nikita further realizes the consequences of her rash and impulsive decisions.

Hee hee! ;)

xx Dani