Hey everyone!

Oh my God. I could not believe the number of reviews this story has gotten. A milestone. 110+ in just 7 chapters? Seriously?

I. Am. Speechless. and. WAY. Beyond. Elated.

I don't think there's even a word to describe how I feel right now. Okay, maybe there is – which is sick. Yes, I have been sick for the past week, which is also why I couldn't finish this update much sooner. But that's beside the point.

So to all you readers, and most especially the reviewers, THANK YOU SO MUCH for all the love you have given to this story. It means so much than you'll ever know. You have my undying gratitude.

I feel like crying. This fandom is just so awesome. Sigh…

Okay, enough blubbering now.

Well, anyway! This chapter! I really thought this was gonna be an easy one. Oh, was I ever wrong. Or maybe it was just the flu messing with my head. But this chapter had to be rewritten too many times. Still don't think it's the greatest, but… it's the best my fudged mind could produce. :)

And so… Update time, guys! Enjoy!

Chapter 7: Acceptance

"There's only one thing that's worse than losing a family, it's not having one." – 2x06

All the air in her lungs left her.

Her mind reeled.

Her heart, it felt as if it dropped down to her stomach.

Nikita stood up and walked over to the railings. A window overseeing the living room was visible from that point. Ilya was still playing with the kaleidoscope, while Michael was talking to someone in his cellphone (Birkhoff had probably already lifted the call barrier from it). She gazed at them, watching but unseeing. Her thoughts were somewhere else, lost in contemplation.

What had she done?

She couldn't believe it. All this time… She had suffered physically, emotionally, and mentally – for what?

And her daughter…

Ilya…

Nikita's blown-out-of-proportion, irrational jealousy had cost her so much.

Touching her lips with her trembling fingers, she whispered the first thing that tumbled out of her mouth, "Cassandra, I'm sor–"

"No, don't be sorry, Nikita." She interrupted, her voice gentle. "I should be the one apologizing to you. I didn't know. But circumstances were deceiving and impeccably timed. I would have probably done the same."

"But for six years," Nikita uttered, wiping an indignant tear that fell, "all the hate, the hurt, the anger… It's all for nothing."

"Love blinds us to many things." Cassandra stated softly. She was silent for a few moments before continuing, "Just trust in Michael, Nikita. He is a good man who loves you very much. You should know that you're very lucky."

Nikita didn't answer. She glanced at the sky, looking for some unknown response.

Was Cassandra right?

Should Nikita have known better?

Some silence passed through both ends. A kind of understanding between two women. It was time to gather their thoughts.

Nikita turned her back on the railings. She leaned her head on a post and let out a deep breath. Glancing out to the vast, blue ocean, she guessed she owed Cassandra some explanation. It was the least she could do.

So she told her about Ilya.

Cassandra was pleasantly surprised, having no idea about it ("Your friend never said anything about a daughter," she had said). But she was delighted enough to say that she was happy for her and Michael. And that she wished them the best.

During that course of the conversation, in some part of Nikita's mind, she realized that she actually hadsome unique things in common with the other woman.

Motherhood being one of them.

Being a spy was another.

Being a spy-turned-mother was even an entirely different thing altogether.

And that was just the beginning.

It was strange in any way she looked at it.

But it was true, she mulled. Life can really be unexpected at times.

Hell, she never even thought she'd ever like Cassandra, much less talking into the phone with her longer than necessary (and actually enjoying it).

But that's exactly what happened. The next hour or so was spent with the two women chatting in a rather polite and amicable manner.

At some point, there was one salient point that Cassandra couldn't help but stress to Nikita:

"Do you remember what I told you back in Belarus?" She said, "In our world, families are a liability. Our loved ones are our weaknesses."

She made sure that Nikita always remembered that.

But apart from that word of advice, Cassandra also narrated what Michael was up to when he was staying with her in London. She recalled the day Michael came back after finding out they had already left the safe house, and how he literally begged her to get MI6's help to search for a location. There were a lot of strings that had to be pulled just so that she could be allowed to divert some of the agency's resources for a personal matter.

Though it also did help that the MI6 owed Michael for saving her. So they were more lenient than usual.

Cassandra chuckled lightly, she expressed that some of the recruits (because full-fledged agents were unavailable for her disposal) were enjoying the assignment and even made a bet on who could get the location first. The female recruits especially, swooned and got starry-eyed because they found the whole thing romantic.

However, she shared in a low voice, the whole thing also served as a test on how efficient their to-be agents were in locating a target. It took them 6 years so it just showed how… sub-par their tracking skills were.

"You really know how to disappear without a trace," Cassandra commended.

She continued by saying that they only found her location when one of the recruits decided to pursue the Barbados route off the intel Michael gave on the places where they have been. It was a long shot, Michael used to say, because they were only there for a weekend. They were fortunate that the recruit was persistent.

And if Michael wasn't dedicating his time towards finding her, he would be with his son. If he wasn't with Max, Cassandra related, he would talk to her and reminisce. She recounted on how he told her about his first meeting with a recruit named Nikita, how amused he was at her bold and spitfire attitude (Nikita smiled when she heard that one), some memorable missions they went on together, how they were unstoppable partners in more ways than one, and… what he would have wanted for the two of them in the future.

"It is a man in love," the ex-Belarusian first lady mused.

A pang of guilt shot through Nikita, learning that Michael gone through so much because of her. And then shame as she realized on how she treated him.

She definitely had to make things better between the two of them.

Sighing, Nikita looked over her shoulder and focused her gaze on Michael and Ilya, who were still in the living room.

Oh, she really had a lot of things to make up for.

"But for what it's worth," Cassandra said. She took in a deep breath and exhaled slowly, "and if it makes you feel any better, Nikita, your six years weren't put to waste. You gave Max and Michael something I could not – time. A chance for them to know each other. I don't know how I could ever repay you for that."

Taking in her words, and sensing that Cassandra really meant it, Nikita did slightly feel better. She was right: Michael and Max did have the chance to know each other as father and son. Wasn't that what she wanted for Michael? Wasn't that why she left him in London in the first place?

Cassandra's words were Nikita's validation that, at least, she had done something right. Sure, she may have sacrificed the time for Michael to be with their own daughter, but now, he was back and he could make up for the lost occasions.

And judging by the way he was clearly captivated by Ilya, it wouldn't really take that long.

A small smile formed on Nikita's lips.

"I think you already did."

I I

"I believe in you. And in us." – 2x02

I I

When Nikita walked back into the house, she was surprised to see Ilya dashing towards her, laughing yet seemingly squealing at the same time. Like they haven't seen each other for months and she was so excited to see her. But instead of hurtling herself into her mother's waiting arms, the young girl ran around and hid behind Nikita's legs.

"Oh, hey! What you doin' back there?" Looking behind her, she asked Ilya. But her daughter just kept silent and buried her face deeper. Smiling, Nikita placed a hand on top of Ilya's lush brown hair and smoothed it down affectionately.

A series of deep coughs to her right caught Nikita's attention. She looked up.

Her hand flew to her mouth as she almost snorted a laugh.

Michael was leaning against the wall rubbing his eyes and coughing.

On his face were streaks of vivid pink, obviously made by a small hand.

Oh, Ilya.

When Michael raised his disconcerted gaze to meet Nikita's, she had to bite the insides of her cheeks just to stop smiling. She even had to hold her breath. But her shoulders gave her away as they trembled with the laugh that got stuck within her chest.

In all the years she had known him, Nikita knew that it was rare for Michael to be caught off-guard by people. Situations, yes. But people, seldom. It was because he read them so well. She only knew a selected few that could put him in that unsettling position: Percy, Amanda, and, of course… her.

So for a 4-year-old managing to do the same to him… Well, it was interesting.

And incredibly entertaining.

Ilya was definitely their daughter.

Nikita laughed inwardly.

So, she thought amusingly, Michael was finally seeing the child's mischievous side.

Though thinking about it, the little girl was definitely showing a lot of aspects of her character to Michael in such a short period of time. He was lucky, Ilya rarely did that to other people she just met. It was an indication that she was beginning to trust Michael then.

It seems that her daughter had a pretty good sense of judging character too.

"Ilya," Nikita said, her voice straining to keep her composure. She still couldn't get enough of seeing the pink on Michael's face. It was definitely a sight she would probably never see again. Taking hold of her daughter's small hand, Nikita took her closer to her father and pushed her gently forward, "say sorry."

The little girl, who was looking down on the floor, buried her hands in the pockets of her blue-and-white polka dotted dress and shook her head.

"Ilya, that was not nice," Nikita said in a disapproving tone. "What do you say when you do something wrong?"

Her voice was crisp as she replied with a sharp, "No."

"Come on, pumpkin." Nikita encouraged. "You know that's not what Mommy taught you."

"No."

"Ilya –"

"No."

"Plea–"

"No."

Oh, God.

Here they go again.

Nikita almost sighed and rolled her eyes. Almost. It took just about the last inch of her willpower not to.

She loved her daughter. She really did. But sometimes her 'no' retorts just got to Nikita (and the others too, particularly Birkhoff). Ilya can be so stubborn when she wanted to be. They all knew that it was the normal attitude for children around her age but it can really get a bit… annoying, to say the least. Especially in some situations.

Though from what Nikita had learned based on experience, she just had to be persistent. It's not like Ilya can honestly be as stubborn as her mother.

And she had to let the child know who's the boss.

"Liane," Nikita warned lightly.

Ilya's gaze snapped to her. She knew that when her real name was used, it usually meant business.

"Apologize."

The young girl continued to stare at her mother. Defiance still evident in her bright green eyes.

Gazing back down, Nikita patiently waited. Ilya's lower lip started to slowly jut out. The usual first tell-tale sign that the young girl was giving in. Just a few more seconds…

Ilya bowed her head to her chest for a moment. Looking up to her father, she finally conceded softly, "I'm sorry."

Michael, who was observing the mother-daughter interaction in amusement, smiled and walked over to her. Stroking Ilya's cheek with his fingers, he winked at her. "S'okay."

Her adorable pout slowly turned into a smile.

"Thank you, pumpkin," Nikita said, cupping her child's face and kissing her forehead. Kneeling down, she looked into Ilya's eyes cheerfully. They were so undeniably like Michael's. Tilting her head to the side, Nikita smirked as she remarked, "See? That wasn't so hard, right?"

The child's smile transformed into a grin, bringing out her deep-set dimple.

Nikita chuckled.

But barely a second later, a mischievous glint suddenly appeared in Ilya's emerald green eyes and out of nowhere –

SMACK!

Michael barked a laugh as Nikita gasped and jerked away.

At that same moment, Ilya had made a run for it.

Nikita blinked a couple of times, her vision suddenly impeded by the pink powder her daughter had slapped on to her face. It stung and prickled.

No wonder Michael got disoriented by it.

In the back of her mind, Nikita cursed Owen for giving in to buying those novelty prank items for Ilya last week.

Well, it's not like he could've said no. Or any of them, for that matter.

How could a little girl have so much influence over them?

Nikita rubbed her eyes with the palm of her hand. It still stung a bit. Oh, she was definitely going to have a word with her daughter about using that thing again. When she finally managed to clear her vision however, Ilya was long gone. But her rascally giggle could still be heard as she was running up the stairs, fleeing from her crime scene.

She was fast, Nikita had to give her that.

Who would expect that a 4-year-old would manage to put one over 2 experienced and highly-trained spies?

Maybe that was what Birkhoff said about Ilya having 'spy genes'.

Standing up, Nikita spluttered the powder that entered her mouth. She took out a handkerchief (she'd been carrying one ever since she had Ilya) from her back pocket and wiped around her eyes.

"She's quite the handful," she heard Michael say.

"Yeah." She couldn't help but chuckle. Continuing to clean her face from the powder, which had turned somewhat sticky, Nikita shot back, "Wonder who she got that from?"

Michael laughed softly. Taking a step closer, Nikita almost cried out a protest when he snatched the handkerchief from her hands. But she decided against it as he took over on rubbing the gunk off her face. He said, rather amusingly, "You missed a spot."

She raised an eyebrow at him.

"Well, aren't you one to talk?" she told him, reaching up to rub off the residual streaks off from Michael's cheeks and chin.

For a few moments in resigned silence, they continued to clean the other's faces.

Being this close to him, Nikita realized that the awkward feeling she had earlier when she was alone with Michael was just genuinely all in her head. There was nothing uncomfortable about it. There never was. There never should have been. Jealousy really had distorted her view on every little thing that happened between the two of them.

But now, knowing the truth, Nikita couldn't believe how blind she became.

It was all in Michael's eyes.

The way he looked at her…

It was more than enough to know what he really felt about her.

She should have seen that.

Cassandra was right: she just had to trust in Michael.

Speaking of which…

"That was Cassandra, by the way," Nikita told him. "On the phone."

He paused. A crease formed between his eyebrows. He prompted her to continue.

Nikita shrugged her thin shoulders lightly. "She said 'you're welcome'."

Michael slowly nodded in comprehension. Tossing the soiled handkerchief on the nearest surface, he resumed to removing the last spot of the pink substance from Nikita's chin with his thumb. His eyes were glassy and unfocused as he did so, no doubt thinking of something.

It was a small weight off her shoulders but Nikita knew it was not enough. She still had to properly apologize (because the last time she did, she was crying her eyes out and she didn't think that counted). There were so many things she had to say but she didn't know where to begin. Or even how to say it.

"Alex called too. While you were outside," Michael suddenly said. Looking at her deeply, he moved his hand and curled it around the side of Nikita's slender neck. Running his thumb across her mocha cheek, he confessed, "She told me."

Nikita instantly knew what he meant, what Alex could have said. She now had a funny feeling that everything was planned. From Owen earlier that morning, to Birkhoff calling Cassandra, and now Alex… Though it somehow didn't surprise Nikita that their friends would orchestrate something like this to get her and Michael to kiss and make up. She was blessed to have such great people around her. They really have become a family who looked out for one another.

It helped though. It really did.

Now, Nikita knew what she would have to say, where to begin.

The most simplest of all, at the start of every reconciliation.

"Michael, I'm so sorry."

Nikita sighed and shifted her gaze away from him. Her voice was shaky with emotions when she said, "I should have known."

Michael was silent at first. He just stared at her, searching her face.

"Yeah, you should've," He then told her, softly. With his other hand, he tucked a stray lock of Nikita's brown hair behind her ear. "But it's okay."

"What I did to you and our daughter," She closed her eyes briefly to stem the tears that threatened to spill, "is unforgivable."

"You did what you thought was right," With both hands on either side of Nikita's neck, Michael made her look up to him. His green eyes were warm. There was a sad smile on his lips as he told her, "But it's done and over with. I'm here now."

Nikita replied with a smile of her own.

They gazed at each other for a moment before he tenderly kissed her on the forehead.

Closing the distance between them, Nikita wrapped her arms around Michael and pressed herself into him. She felt her body instantly relax as he returned her embrace just as tight. Closing her eyes, she buried her face into his neck, inhaling his familiar scent. She couldn't even begin to fathom just how much she missed him. The way she always felt in his arms, the way he always seemed to know her, the way she can be herself around him… just everything.

"We're gonna make this work," she whispered.

Whether she said it more to herself or to Michael, Nikita found that it didn't really matter anymore.

Because this time, she believed it.

And we stop there!

Anyone thought they were gonna kiss? Haha. If you did, well, sorry to disappoint you there.

But breathe a sigh of relief! The majority of the Cassandra thing is over (at last!). I honestly couldn't wait to get her out of the story. It's not that I hate her or anything, it's just that there's so much more in this story that could finally happen now that her part is almost done.

Because, as they say, acceptance is the first step to reconciliation.

And that just means one thing: a Mikita reunion in the works! I'm sure a lot of you are excited for that one.

Okay, so for next chapter! I'll give you a little teaser. The story will jump a few days, and set on a Saturday. If you can remember what that day means to a particular person in this story, you'll have a pretty good idea on what's gonna happen. Another hint, the answer can be found in one of the earlier chapters. ;)

But before we end, of course, I wanna thank you again for reading.

And don't forget to Review, okay? They are LOVE. And love makes the world go 'round.

So, until the next update then. Though the end of this chapter could actually serve as the end to the whole story if I ever wanted to discontinue it now. If I was mean and didn't love you guys, that's what'll I'll do. Hahaha.

But where's the fun in that? We're only like, halfway through the whole thing. There's still so much cliffhangers to write! :D

xx Dani