Hey everyone!

Terribly, terribly sorry for the late update! Tons of things happened and, ugh… you do not need to hear those things. ;)

Anyway, you all probably want to read now so I'll save my A/N for later. Scroll down!

Oh, and thank you THANK YOU to all my faithful readers out there! And for my reviewers, a Mikita kiss for you all. I could just hug you guys to death.

Okay, shutting up now! Read and enjoy!

Chapter 6: Jealousy

"You said you needed my help." – 2x03

"Holy sh–"

"No swearing."

"–aaah! That stings!"

"Not my fault you walked into the nettles."

"Oh yeah? Gee, I wonder who rerouted the trackers that led me there." Birkhoff spat, sarcastically. He flinched as Nikita pulled tightly on the elastic bandage she was wrapping on his slightly swollen and itchy arm. "Hey! Ow! Victim here!"

Nikita's lips twisted into a smug smile. After securing the bandage with a metal clip, she lightly tapped her friend's cheek and told him, "Karma, Nerd."

He mumbled an inaudible curse as she sauntered away.

Returning back to the sofa, Nikita smiled when she saw that her spot next to Michael was taken over by her daughter. Ilya was seated comfortably, happily nibbling on a Red Vine while pulling on a stray thread on the hem of her father's sleeve while Michael was watching her with amusement. Claiming the seat on the other end of the sofa, Nikita grabbed her mug of coffee from the table and settled in. She gave a sideward glance. Ilya was sandwiched between her and Michael. It made her unavoidably admire how this looked a lot like a family portrait scene.

She glimpsed at Michael and met his gaze for a moment.

The slight gleam in his eyes made her know that he was thinking along those same lines.

"So, Ilya, since you won," Michael said, looking down at her. He was clearly enjoying his daughter's fascination on something so trivial. "Where do you want to go?"

She stared up to him with bright eyes and brought out her dimple with a smile. "London!"

Nikita choked on the coffee she had been sipping. Birkhoff and Michael raised their gaze at her but she avoided them by setting her cup back on the table and staring at the young girl instead. She couldn't help it – she got uncomfortably surprised. The place held memories and people that she'd rather not think about. And Ilya never mentioned anything about wanting to go to London, or anywhere in Europe, before. So with Michael's sudden appearance, and her daughter saying she wanted to go that place, it was enough to catch Nikita off guard.

And that caused her to feel like her heart was being gripped and pricked by pins and needles.

"Of all places…" Birkhoff muttered, scratching his bandaged arm. He asked, "Why London, Shorty?"

The 4-year-old frowned at the mention of the nickname. She glared at Birkhoff with steely emerald eyes for a moment and then stuck her tongue out at him.

Birkhoff laughed, affronting the young child even more. Michael and Nikita couldn't help but proudly watch their daughter.

Oh, she definitely was something.

"Ilya?" Nikita asked, getting her attention.

Looking up to her mother, Ilya suddenly grinned and announced, "Because I want to visit the Queen!"

A smile forced its way onto Nikita's lips. Relief washed over her, realizing that her daughter's reason to going to London had nothing to do with… her. And then Nikita remembered that Ilya didn't know anything about her mother's issues and she almost laughed. She definitely had to keep her mind from blowing things out of proportion.

Amused, she asked her daughter, "The Queen, pumpkin?"

"Mm-hmm." Ilya nodded. "And then I'll ask her to make me a princess!"

They all chuckled. Apparently what Alex had dubbed the 'Princess Phase' had already caught on to the 4-year-old.

As most kids, Ilya had developed a certain new habit. And hers was following or wanting things after she watched them from television. Just a couple of weeks ago, she wanted to be a mermaid after watching The Little Mermaid. The whole household had to put up with her dragging them to the beach all day. At one morning even, Nikita and Alex got a bit sunburned after staying in the sun too long, looking after the young girl.

Not wanting a repeat of any similar incidents in the future, everyone had made it a point to screen whatever TV show or movie the young child would be watching. They all agreed that God forbid if Ilya found her way through pulp or sci-fi shows with the habit she was in right now.

And thankfully, it seems it didn't take long for her to switch from wanting to be a mermaid to becoming a princess. It was less of a hassle.

Looking over Ilya's head, Michael gave Nikita a bemused, questioning glance.

She explained by mouthing the word, 'Anastasia'.

He smiled and rolled his eyes in amusement.

Though thinking about it, Nikita didn't know how her daughter thought of the British monarchy when the movie was supposed to be that of the Russian's... Where the hell was her daughter getting all these information?

"But aren't you already Mommy's princess?" Michael asked the little girl.

Nikita glanced at him. She was grateful that he had agreed to not telling their daughter about his real relation to her yet. They mutually decided that they'll wait for the right time before setting her straight. For now though, all Michael had to do was bond with Ilya and gain her trust – though that didn't seem to be a problematic one.

"But I don't have a crown." Ilya pouted, solemnly looking at her father. "Princesses have crowns... And they have castles."

"Oh, I think the castle can be arranged." Nikita said. She sat back on the sofa, crossed her arms across her chest and looked pointedly at Birkhoff.

He stared back at her blankly at first. Realizing and comprehending what her look meant, Birkhoff's face contorted into a horrified expression. He leaned forward in his chair, enunciating every word of his reply, "Uh, no. No way. N to the O – no."

"Not your call, Nerd." Nikita reminded him smugly. Her lips pulled back into a taunting smile. "Ilya won."

Birkhoff made a face. "I'm not buying a castle!"

"Rules of the game, remember? If Ilya wants it, she gets it."

They stared at one another.

"Crap."

Knowing it was his time to scram before his friend thought of any more ridiculous idea to deplete his bank account, Birkhoff grabbed his sunglasses, computer tablet, and cellphone from the coffee table and fled the living room. A few seconds later, his voice saying, 'I'm going out!' echoed around the house just before the front door slammed. There was a sudden purr of a revved up engine by the driveway outside and the squealing of tires as the car accelerated on the road.

Nikita laughed at her friend. He can never tell when she was joking.

When Ilya leaned on her mother's side, Nikita wrapped an arm around her. She looked at her daughter, then to Michael, and smiled. It was one of those moments she had always dreamed of. The three of them complete… Happy.

Her heart gave a slight squeeze.

Okay, at least the two of them were. Nikita was… well, not completely there yet.

But she'll have to make do with that.

Silently, she and Michael contented themselves to watching their daughter play with a small kaleidoscope she had found inserted in between the seats. Nikita ruffled her daughter's hair and kissed the top of her head. She was just too adorable for words.

But when Ilya suddenly left and ran off for the kitchen to get another Red Vine, Nikita felt a bit uneasy. And lost, with her arm wrapped around nothing but air. She immediately felt this awkward mood that filled the space left between her and Michael. She glanced at him through the corner of her eye and saw that he was just as somehow relaxed as ever.

Maybe this was just all in her head.

Still, Nikita shifted uncomfortably on her side of the sofa. She could feel her heart rhythmically thudding in her ears. Being alone with Michael after last night, and knowing that her friends had listened in on their conversation, it just unsettled her. And with all her focus earlier gone, the feelings she had been suppressing at that time had crept back up and sort of made things a bit awkward. Again.

Trying to keep calm, Nikita fiddled her thumbs and focused on them as if they were the most entertaining thing in the world.

She wished that Ilya would hurry up and come back already.

Then, just about as Nikita almost had it with the silence, Michael had reached over and his warm hand covered hers, squeezing lightly, reassuringly.

Her heart did a little back flip. The little traitor. Nikita looked up at him and gave a small smile. But other than that, she didn't know how else to respond.

"Nikita," Michael said, almost hesitantly, "what's wrong?"

"I don't know," she admitted, staring at their conjoined hands. It was so warm and so familiar.

"Well, what –"

The ringing of her cellphone made Nikita jerk in surprise. Her heart may have just skipped a couple of beats right then.

That was so uncommon and so unlike her.

But nonetheless, Nikita thought it was a welcomed interruption.

Pulling her hands away from Michael's grasp, she reached into her back pocket to get her phone.

She looked down at the screen.

Unknown Number.

A slight frown passed her features. This was strikingly unusual. No one from outside should be able to contact anyone inside the house because of the call barrier Birkhoff had placed over the area. Only registered numbers were allowed to make outgoing and receive incoming calls freely. It was for their safety. Other numbers should have pinged an alert in Shadownet and made an automatic trace of the caller.

But no such thing happened.

Color Nikita intrigued.

"Hello?" she answered, uncertain but curious.

"Nikita."

She stopped short, unconsciously catching her breath.

She'd know that heavily Belarusian-accented voice from anywhere.

Cassandra Ovechkin.

Well, this was unexpected.

"Is Michael with you?"

Nikita blinked, getting over her astonishment. She glanced at Michael. He was watching her curiously. She felt a pang of fury. Her lips mashed into a thin line. Why the hell was Cassandra calling her if she was only asking for Michael? Couldn't she directly call him instead? She wasn't an operator, for God's sake.

Her mocha cheek flinched. She replied a terse, "Yes."

When she was about to rip her cellphone away from her ear to give it to Michael, Cassandra's voice filtered in, "Can you go somewhere private, please?"

Nikita narrowed her gaze onto the floor. "Excuse me?"

"I need to talk to you."

Thrown off by Cassandra's request, Nikita froze. She needed to talk to her?Was this some sort of joke?

Still on the edge on what she would do, Nikita remained seated on the sofa and stared intently at a single spot on her knee. She didn't have to listen to her. She didn't like to. She didn't want to.

"Nikita?"

Giving Michael an undeserved glare, Nikita got up and left the room in a huff. She realized that this unwarranted call would be uncomfortable enough and she didn't need to have Michael listen in on one side of it. He might hear something that would just further estrange their already-strained relationship. Nikita chewed on her lower lip. She had never been so annoyed of a person before.

When she was out in the patio, she said, "Okay, Cassandra, talk."

"I assume Michael arrived safely? He never called since his plane touched down at the airport. And I can't seem to contact him."

Nikita looked up at the horizon, her ire disappearing for the moment. Something didn't seem to add up. Her eyebrows knit in confusion. Last night, she distinctly remembered that Michael was trying to call Cassandra –

Michael was trying to call her. Nikita had already left earlier and just assumed that he had managed to talk to Cassandra.

But she didn't know that he never got through.

Nikita glanced at the missing car in the driveway.

And then it clicked.

Oh.

Birkhoff.

He must have redirected or blocked all of Michael's incoming and outgoing calls. It was the only plausible explanation.

But… why?

She took a deep breath. Right.

Nikita had known that her friend was almost as angry, hurt, and offended as she was when Michael chose Cassandra and Max over them. Birkhoff didn't really say it to her but she knew from how he acted. He said all these justifications and reassurances, but it was more for his sake than hers. As time passed though, Birkhoff managed to somehow get over it (far better than she ever did) and he promised that he'd kick Michael's ass when he got to see him again. Nikita laughed at that one because she already knew then that it was just all words.

'Til now, that is. She never expected her Nerd to actually pull through with some kind of revenge plan (even though it was arguably in a small-scale, petty way).

Closing her eyes, Nikita smiled and shook her head in disbelief at Birkhoff's surprising, underhanded slyness.

But Cassandra must have been worried, a guilty thought surfaced. Nikita's eyes fluttered open.

Well, at least now she knew that the woman looked out for Michael. After everything, Nikita inadvertently found that she couldn't hate Cassandra for that. If she really cared for Michael, then she could accept that. If Michael was happy with Cassandra, then maybe she could accept that too. It may take a while, or maybe never, to get used to seeing him in the arms of another woman but if it is what it takes… then so be it.

Everyone keeps on telling her that she is such a martyr, sacrificing a lot for the sake of others and the greater good. That she's some sort of saint. Or some doomed superhero.

But she was far from perfect. No one just sees the other side of her. The incredibly jealous, insecure, and selfish side of Nikita. And she didn't care if it was wrong. She was a person who wanted things too. Who deserved it after everything she's done.

Her precarious feelings only intensified when it came to Michael and their current situation.

She knew she couldn't stand in the way. It was just so hard to let go.

But she had to. Her selfishness couldn't stop the fact that Michael deserved happiness in his life too.

Even if it is meant to be in the expense of her own.

Accepting her fate, Nikita's antagonism slowly fell away. Or at least, not all of it.

She still didn't like Cassandra.

"He's here." She answered abruptly. Frowning slightly as she remembered something else, Nikita questioned, "How did you get my number anyway?"

There was some slight static. "Your friend, a one Seymour Birkhoff, called and gave it to me."

Nikita's eyes narrowed in disbelief. "Birkhoff called you?"

"Yes. About an hour ago actually. He was vehemently berating a lot of things too."

Nikita stared into the distance. None of this was making sense. An hour ago Birkhoff was still playing Hide-And-Seek with Ilya. So unless he was calling Cassandra during the time he was supposed to be playing the game… It was odd. Why would Birkhoff call her? He wasn't the type to talk to people he didn't know. Her curiosity getting the better of her hostility, Nikita asked, "About what?"

"Something about 'Bonnie and Clyde', and 'three's company', and 'meant to be' and some other things that I lost track of..." Cassandra trailed off. Her light voice filtered into the earpiece a moment later, "But I deduced that it seems I have some explaining to do."

Nikita sat down on one of the lounge chairs. Her knees suddenly felt weak as she had a feeling on where this was going. She repeated, "Explaining?"

"About me and Michael."

"Oh no," Nikita whispered. She clapped a hand to her mouth, confirming her suspicions on what her friend must have said to the former Belarusian first lady. This was definitely crossing the line. First, listening in on her and Michael's talk last night, and now interfering with this too? Birkhoff had definitely become too nosy for his own good. Enough was enough. She quickly backpedalled, "No, don't listen to Birkhoff, Cassandra. It's not any of our business –"

"Nikita," Cassandra said, her voice soft and gentle, "there's nothing going on between me and him."

She blinked.

"And why should I believe you?" Nikita suddenly snapped. Her quick temper made the words tumble out of her mouth before her mind had time to process it. She regretted her brashness almost instantly, but she was sick and tired with the lies. She didn't need it. Most of her life had already been composed of lies and she didn't want to add more to it. She needed the truth this time.

Even if it just might break her.

Cassandra was silent. After a few moments, there was a slight scuffle in the background. "Because you want to."

"What I want is different from what is happening." Nikita pointed out, her voice firm and brusque.

"But I won't lie to you, Nikita. Not about this, not about Michael."

"With all due respect, Cassandra, but you've already lied before."

"Circumstances were different last time."

"So you expect me to believe you just like that?" Her free hand clenched into a fist. Nikita said, "That nothing happened?"

"Yes. Nikita, your friend," Cassandra hesitated for a moment, "he told me the reason why you left... What you saw."

Nikita tightened her grip on her cellphone. That fateful image of Michael and Cassandra seared through her mind. Dormant jealousy flared up. Her anger also rose, feeling slighted and betrayed that Birkhoff chose to share that information with Cassandra.

"I'm afraid you've misunderstood, Nikita. That kiss… It was for a mission."

Nikita felt like her heart had sunk. She couldn't help but blurt out, "What?"

Cassandra's voice seemed a bit distant as she commented, "I must say, you Americans certainly have a peculiar way of avoiding arousing suspicion."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Nikita demanded through gritted teeth.

"Nikita, I work for MI6 remember? What you saw…" She said, "At that time, I was on a reconnaissance mission. It was my first field work after Belarus so Michael insisted that he went with me to be an extra set of eyes. I discouraged him but I think you know how stubborn he can be."

"But," she sighed before continuing, "it turned out that I was lucky that he was there because I got sort of overzealous. Michael saw the suspicion and the threat before I did. What he did – his… unconventional tactic saved both our lives."

Aaaand that's it for now!

Honestly, this chapter was sort of a disappointment for me (but a HUMONGOUS THANK YOU to all those who keep on PMing me for the encouragement - I'll make it up to you guys!). It's just that this didn't turn out as I expected. It was, well... just different from what I had in my head. And then I think I busted in Nikita's characterization here... :(

Okay, so now my question, does anyone see Nikita jealous and impulsive enough to do what she did (y'know, transferring and not talking to Michael for a long time after she saw him with Cassandra)?

I mean, I'd like to think so but... what do you guys think?

So, Review, okay? I need all your help on this one. :)

Of course, you could also comment on whatever else you like/hate/whatever.

And so, thank you for taking time to read and I'll try to post the next chapter soon.

OH! And one, no... two more things!

Vote for the show, Shane, Maggie or Lyndsy in the TCAs! After an amazingly epic and mindblowing season 2, THEY JUST DEFINITELY HAVE TO WIN!

Lastly, October is like, what, 5 more months? Anyone experiencing Nikita withdrawals this early on? ;)

xx Dani