I seriously have a lot to apologize to. Eeeep!

Firstly, to you readers. This update took longer than necessary. So sorry about that!

I'll just give a short explanation why: I was off being a football/soccer fangirl for a few days. Then I was still high on fangirl cloud nine for a few more days after (because after the game, my favorite player actually smiled at me, then walked over and held my hand – oooh *faints* HAHA!). Ahem. And then, when I finally got to finish this chapter around a week ago, my computer crashed. Ugh. Horrible experience. And I wasn't able to save the file anywhere else so I had to wait for the thing to get fixed so… yeah, those are the reasons for the late update. I'm really, really, really sorry everyone!

And secondly, this chapter is dedicated to Sheem. So sorry I wasn't able to post this earlier for your birthday! So, belated birthday gift? :D

Right. Okay, so before you read on… Reviewers, thank you. As always. And I really love you people.

And to those who PM'ed me to update! Haha! Well, here it is!

Oh, and for those who asked, yes, I am still gonna continue with this story! There is still so much to write! :D

So I'll shut up now. Here's to hoping this chapter is to your liking!

Enjoy the update! :)

Chapter 8: Birthday Gifts

"I can't deny you something I want myself." – 2x06

Saturday couldn't come any faster.

An ecstatic laugh filled the air.

Ilya rattled the box of her brand new, state-of-the-art gaming console. Even the simple, generic sound just made her chortle with happiness.

Behind the girl's back however, Nikita gave Birkhoff a pointed stare.

He just responded with a smug look and said, "Well, someone has to teach her about technology around here."

"Oh, please, Nerd," Nikita scoffed, teasingly. "You're just finding an excuse to buy the thing. I know you've been looking for another ever since Owen spilled beer on your last one."

"Hey!" Owen cried out defensively from the lounge chair he was sitting on, "That was not my fault!"

Alex, who sat next to him, sniggered. Focusing her camera on him, she took a picture before she nudged him in the ribs and rolled her eyes. "Yeah, right."

Nikita smiled, watching everyone's interactions. She had come to love and exist for these moments. And she had Ilya to thank for it. Not just for bonding them closer together, but also for bringing out a certain joy in all of them. The child had created an atmosphere that allowed them all to act in ways they have never been before because of who and what they were. All the seriousness and sobriety they were forced to learn in their life before and back in Division have been undoubtedly curbed to a certain degree.

Because of Ilya, they were all given a chance to live the moment, the present.

Maybe even regress to act like a child too at times.

Nikita glanced at Michael, who was on the bean bag situated next to hers. She saw that he was clearly enjoying the whole thing as much as she was.

Well, it is special since it's his first experience with his daughter's birthday.

And also for the fact that he was seeing first-hand what Nikita meant that the little girl was being spoiled too much by her aunt and uncles.

Getting impatient with the interruptions, Ilya poked her mother on the leg to get her attention. When Nikita looked at her, she pointed excitedly to the presents left unopened on the coffee table.

"Ohh," Nikita chuckled, reaching for smallest box remaining and giving it to her daughter's waiting hands. She asked aloud, "Now who's this from?"

"That's from me!" Alex informed, happily taking snapshots like she always did during these occasions. Taking pictures was the only way to preserve things because memories can sometimes be unreliable narrators, she would always say. That's why she became the self-appointed photographer ever since she found out Nikita was pregnant.

They had all agreed that when everything would finally blow over in the future, they will, at least, have good and funny memories-filled pictures to look back to.

However, all the pictures taken have never been printed out. At least, not yet. It was all sent and stored in various hidden devices that can be updated wirelessly – a system Birkhoff had designed to pattern after Percy's black boxes. Leaving no physical trace. Just one of the safety precautions they had to take. Because even if they may have been out of the radar for 6 years, Division, Gogol, and other enemies were still out there. Dangerous people were still looking for them. So their security was the one thing they could never let slip (though having an MI6 agent locate them meant that there had to be changes to be done soon). And until the war was over, they could never really settle down.

It was also for that reason that even though they have lived in the beautiful Caribbean villa for a long time, it was still just a temporary home. So there weren't any real personal touches in the house. They could still leave everything in a moment's notice. No qualms, no attachments. Start all over once again. Nikita had already prepared Ilya for that, when the moment comes.

It was a lesson she didn't want to teach to anyone. Much less her own child. But no matter how much she didn't want that kind of experience for her daughter, Nikita didn't have a choice. Ilya was born into an unconventional family who, is not only being hunted by black ops organizations, but is also composed of a group of spies and assassins who, supposedly, do not exist.

Oh, Ilya definitely had one heck of a life story laid out for her.

But as of that moment, the excited birthday girl ripped through the blue-and-green wrapping paper like a little Tasmanian devil. A twinkle appeared in her eyes as she saw the item. The gleeful laugh she made as she held the coral-colored MP3 player in her hands had everyone smile with her.

Nikita and Alex exchanged a glance. The former knew what that device meant to the latter.

Everyone around proudly watched as Ilya placed her new gadget gingerly along with the pile of her other gifts. She was undoubtedly thrilled with the things given to her, which included a children's cooking set, a box of Lego, some high-tech art supplies, more clothes and shoes (though Birkhoff grumbled at those because it meant that he had to tag a tracker to each one), a dollhouse, the latest gaming console, another set of novelty prank items, and books.

Many things that would've sent any child into cloud nine.

However, what currently topped the young girl's list for the moment was the castle Birkhoff bought. It was the first birthday gift she got when she woke up that morning.

Nikita had to admit, she was surprised at that one. Birkhoff really found a way around to get Ilya what she wanted.

Well, sort of.

When Birkhoff pulled the cloth cover to unveil the whole thing, the now-5-year-old didn't even seem to mind that it was just an inflatable, bouncy playground in the shape of a castle.

The remaining adults (who all had woken up – except Nikita, who just rolled out of bed because she still couldn't sleep – earlier to clean, blow up balloons, decorate the house, bake a cake, and whatever else) just tilted their heads to the side in amazement at the humongous toy set up in their backyard by the beach.

"I guess, technically, it's still a castle," Michael said, almost unsure of what he was saying.

Nobody commented further and instead, just admired how Ilya had already crawled in and bounced around in her pajamas. Even before breakfast, she was already giddy with happiness.

Nikita couldn't help but laugh. Her daughter was seriously being spoiled too much.

As the gift-giving continued, though she was still glad, Ilya was a bit confused when she opened other presents that happened to be a remote-controlled helicopter, a mini bow with a quiver of plastic arrows, a toy car and racing track, a small punching bag, padded body armor, a pair of gloves, and a miniature poker set complete with a box of playing cards.

Birkhoff and Owen roared with laughter at the expression of the two older women looking more horrified than the last as each of those presents were opened. Even Michael couldn't hide his chuckle.

Boys and their toys.

But they all shut up when Nikita threw them a withering glare.

Oblivious to what was happening around her, Ilya tugged on her mother's hand and requested for the last of her two unopened gifts.

"Right." Nikita suddenly smiled, turning back to her daughter. As if she wasn't about to wring 2 (maybe 3) men's necks just a second ago. Grabbing the violet box from the table, she said, "Next–"

"Wait!"

They all turned to look at Owen.

"Uhh…" He grinned sheepishly. Scratching the back of his neck, he said, "It's probably better if you open the other one first."

Nikita blinked and raised an eyebrow at him.

"Fine," She sighed, rolling her eyes. Exchanging the gift for the last one on the table, Nikita gave the blue box to Ilya. She noticed that it was slightly heavier for its size, making her wonder what was inside it.

But when the box was opened, eyes just widened and no one dared to say anything.

Except Ilya, of course, who frowned at first before breaking out into a giggle.

The object's polished finish gleamed.

Michael, managing to get over the shock fastest, said the first sentence out. In disbelief and building outrage, he turned to Owen. "A gun?"

Alex jabbed her significant other in the arm, whispering angrily, "What the hell were you thinking?"

"Ow!" Owen said, rubbing his arm. He defended, "It's just a BB gun! Geez… Besides, she has to learn, y'know. And what better way than to start 'em young?"

They didn't know how to respond to that.

At a glance, the toy could have easily passed for a real one. And with the target paper tucked into the side of the box, it was easy to make the assumption.

"The website I bought it from said it was ninety-nine percent accurate," Owen proudly declared.

Closing back on the lid of the box, Nikita calmly took the gift from her daughter and slid it over to the back of the pile. Ilya watched longingly but just kept quiet. If there was one thing her mother taught her, it was that firearms weren't a plaything. Fake or not.

It's not like Nikita didn't want her daughter to learn how to handle a gun. She did, but not yet and certainly not now. And it should be for self-defense only. Because a better part of her life, Nikita had always kept a weapon within an arms reach. Still does. There was no other reason except that it had already become an extended part of her limb. She knew it like she knew the back of her hand. And she defended and killed with it.

Nikita didn't want that life for Ilya. She didn't want her daughter to learn what she had to, what she was forced to.

Because for one reason, no child with an adorable pout like Ilya's should even be subjected to that.

But the young girl's moue slowly formed into a grin when she saw Owen sneak a wink at her.

Catching Owen's gesture out of the corner of her eye, Nikita turned to him and warned in a light voice, "If anyone gets hurt – even just a scratch – you are gonna be in so much trouble."

She saw Michael glance at her. His lips twisting into a smug yet approving smirk.

"Well, it's been nice knowing you, man," Birkhoff teasingly mumbled to Owen, patting him on the back.

"Shut up, Computer Guy."

When things settled down, Nikita handed Ilya the last gift on the table.

Feeling Michael's hand grasp hers, she smiled. So it was his gift. She had been wondering which one of the gifts was his. And since he wouldn't say anything to her when she asked what he bought, it just made her all the more curious. It was a moment of truth then. Fate probably saved the best for last, perhaps? This was a special moment for him.

For both of them.

They all watched in amusement when Ilya's face lit up as she opened the box to reveal a stuffed toy Dalmatian – her new favorite dog after watching that Disney movie a few days ago. But what really caught her attention was the small but sparkly tiara sitting comfortably on the stuffed animal's head.

It was enough to send the birthday girl into an elated rush.

Nikita had never seen her daughter so hyper.

She jumped up and down the throw pillow she had been sitting on, excitedly showing off the glittering circlet she placed on her head.

"Mommy! Mommy! Look! I'm a princess!"

Nikita laughed as Ilya ran up to her and wrapped her arms around her in a tight embrace. She then dashed around the patio to give everyone a bear hug. And mostly to hear compliments about her new semi-circle head ornament.

But what surprised Nikita most (though it really shouldn't have), was when her daughter practically threw herself at Michael and hugged him longer and tighter than the others – apart from her mother, of course.

Over the past week since his arrival, Nikita gave Michael and Ilya whatever chance they could spend with each other. She was almost hesitant at first, since she didn't know how her daughter would react. But her worries were all for nothing because Ilya was just unconsciously drawn to Michael just as a daughter would be to her father.

She trusted him.

Nikita couldn't deny it though: she was getting a bit jealous that her daughter was spending a lot of her time with Michael instead of her, and that his attention was focused more on the young girl. And then she'd catch herself and just laugh. She was jealous of a little kid. Her own daughter.

But as it turned out, everyone else in the household was feeling the same way too. Some of them were even taking it harder than expected.

Just yesterday, Nikita caught Birkhoff and Owen huddled in the corner aiming a tranq dart at Michael while he was watching Ilya run after a butterfly in the garden. She thwarted their plans and also gave them both an earful about how they were the child's godfathers and should start acting like one.

Because, honestly, she just couldn't bring herself to not see the smile that graced Michael's lips whenever Ilya animatedly talked to him, or how her green eyes just gleamed when she manages to get her father to do something for her.

It was really quite a sight to see.

It was also because of that she was content sitting by the sidelines and watching how everything was unfolding.

That afternoon, veggie shake in hand, Nikita seated herself comfortably on the porch steps by the driveway. She was amusingly observing Michael teaching the young girl on how to ride the purple bike her mother had given as a birthday present. They looked cute. The bike even had those multicolored tassels at the end of the handlebars. And, even though it had training wheels on, Ilya was surprisingly a wobbly driver.

But Nikita knew her daughter was in good hands. Since Michael was the one who taught her to drive a car, a boat, and a plane back in Division, Nikita was sure he could most certainly handle teaching his own 5-year-old daughter on how to ride a bike.

"Huge turnout this year."

Nikita glanced up and saw that it was Alex, sans her camera. She smiled but gave her a questioning look, remembering that the younger woman disappeared with her beau into some parts of the house earlier that afternoon. And usually, they didn't come out until later. Much later.

Alex silently explained her early appearance by pointing her thumb over her shoulder and shaking her head. Nikita looked around to the front door and saw a glimpse of movement in the living room. And then as if on cue, Owen and Birkhoff's shouts got louder. Thinking it was serious, she listened closer and realized that the two men were bickering about which video game to play first on Ilya's new gaming console.

With all the new stuff, it seemed like there was currently more than 1 kid in the house right now.

Nikita chuckled softly. She rolled her eyes and patted the spot next to her.

Settling down, Alex bumped her ex-mentor's shoulder teasingly, and continued, "You know, this is gonna set the standard of every birthday after this one."

"Yeah," the older woman laughed, softly. She placed her glass down next to her. "But I don't even want to think about when she gets older."

"We'll blow the bridge when we come to it, right?"

Nikita nodded.

At that moment, Ilya made an awkward turn and almost fell off her bike. Alex and Nikita made an involuntary move to get up but Michael had already caught the young girl. The two women relaxed and sat back down when they saw that the child was safe.

But it turned out that she was more than safe. She was safe and happy. Ilya even giggled when Michael righted her back on her seat and fixed the tiara that had gone askew atop her pretty little head.

Nikita was still feeling uneasy though. It nagged at her that Ilya wasn't wearing a helmet. Even though she knew that her daughter would be alright with Michael near her, it still made her worry out of her skin – she couldn't help it, she was a mother. And the fact that her child was relentlessly adamant that 'princesses don't wear helmets' didn't really help. But since it was her birthday, Nikita let it slide. For today. The next time, however, her daughter was going to wear protective gear whether she liked it or not.

She couldn't deny though, the tiara was a nice touch.

And, even if she wouldn't admit it yet, Nikita was a bit fascinated by the glittering object. And how Michael managed to get it so fast. Or rather, what did he have to do to the Bank Of Birkhoff to get something valuable like that in so short a time. Because she had a funny feeling that those little gems weren't just rhinestones and cubic zirconium. But Michael was being mum about it when she asked. He'd just smile cheekily and tell her that it's 'for him and Birkhoff and the seller to know'.

But, thinking back, Nikita did remember hearing Michael talking to some of his contacts a few days ago. And based from personal experience, she knew that those acquaintances were very well-connected. Who knows, maybe one of them had an emerald-and-diamond tiara lying around somewhere.

Quite the gift for someone who would probably be over her 'Princess Phase' in a few weeks.

On the other hand, it was Michael's first gift. And he did have to make up for the 4 birthdays that he missed. Since Ilya was definitely delighted by it, Nikita guessed that it was worth it.

The multi-faceted jewels caught and reflected the rays of the afternoon sun, making them glint and sparkle. It was undeniably very beautiful. The green gemstones especially, popped out well against Ilya's brown hair. And it matched her eyes.

Ilya let out joyful laugh as she rode off on her bike for quite a few feet without Michael's assistance. With the slight wind blowing through her hair, and the complete excitement and contentment written all over her face, it wasn't hard to tell that the young girl did feel like a princess at that moment.

Glancing over to Michael, who looked quite proud too, Nikita smiled.

"So how are things with you two?"

There was a slight pause as Nikita almost forgot that Alex was there with her. She thought about her answer. Finally, she just settled on, "I don't know."

The younger woman looked down in acknowledgment; cheeks turning slightly pink, "Not my business –"

"No," Nikita said, looking at her. Shrugging, she explained, "I don't know. We said we'd work it out but so far, nothing. Sure, we'd hold hands and the occasional hug, but that's it... And then, of course, there's Ilya. You know how he's been spending most of his time with her."

"Yeah. Owen's been griping about that," Alex murmured, watching the father-daughter interaction with wistful blue eyes. There was some sadness that passed through her, Nikita noticed. Looking back to her ex-mentor, she said, "Maybe you should just finish this Ilya-not-knowing-her-father thing. Hasn't Michael already proved himself enough that he cares for her too? Besides, I think Ilya wouldn't really be surprised about it. She's a smart girl. After that, maybe then the things between you and Michael would finally work out."

Nikita sighed. "I don't know, Alex. What if Ilya isn't ready –"

"Oh, come on, Nikita," she groaned. "Give Ilya some credit. She's tougher than you think. She has your and Michael's genes. You can't get any tougher than that."

"But what if–"

A cry interrupted their conversation. Their gaze snapped to the young girl who was wailing on the driveway, her overturned bike just lying by her feet. Mother's instincts kicking in, Nikita automatically stood up to go to her daughter but Alex reached out and grabbed her wrist.

"Wait," she said quickly, cutting off Nikita when she was about to object. "Give Michael a chance."

Frowning a bit, Nikita reluctantly watched her crying daughter as Michael rushed over to scoop her up and cradle her in his arms. If Ilya's cries weren't tugging on her heartstrings, she probably would have laughed at the almost-terrified expression on Michael's face as he tried to calm their daughter down while surreptitiously checking if she had any scrapes on her. Luckily, there were none.

Nikita made a mental note that next time, along with the helmet, arm and knee pads, Ilya was going to have a pillow tied over her butt. She wasn't going to take chances anymore.

Alex chuckled then said softly, "Michael is so whipped."

As the two women continued to watch, Michael had whispered some things to the young girl. Surprisingly, Nikita thought, whatever it was, worked because the 5-year-old was already starting to quieten in record time. Those who raised Ilya knew that she wasn't a kid that cried that easily, but when she did, the hard part was getting her to stop. Even Nikita had some difficulty to do that at times. And she's already the child's mother.

So for Michael to do that…

As he settled Ilya down on her feet, Michael crouched down to wipe the tears that fell down the child's cheeks and pushed away the strands of brown hair that plastered on her face. She even let out a slight smile when her father planted a soft kiss on her forehead.

Oh, she was definitely becoming a Daddy's Girl.

If only she knew…

Feeling Alex's grasp on her wrist fall away, Nikita strode over to the two. A smile tugged on her lips as Ilya wrapped her arms around Michael's neck. It was such a charming moment.

Catching Nikita's gaze, Michael smiled then turned Ilya towards her and said, "Oh, now see? Look who's coming. Who is that? Who's the beautiful lady?"

A slight blush crept to Nikita's face, making their daughter titter.

As Michael let the young girl go, she ran to her mother. Nikita picked her up in one smooth and practiced lift. She kissed and nuzzled the young girl's cheek affectionately. Combing a hand through the child's brown locks and readjusting the tiara, she smiled as her daughter looked up to her.

Pushing her mother's hair back over her shoulder with her small hands, Ilya grinned, bringing out that dimple again. She hugged her mother, burying her face on Nikita's neck.

"You okay, pumpkin?" Nikita asked, stroking the child's back. She also covertly checked for any wounds or scrapes, just to be sure.

Ilya nodded.

"Did it hurt when you fell off your bike?"

She nodded.

Always honest Ilya. "Does it still hurt?"

She shook her head.

Nikita chuckled. "Do you still want to learn how to ride your bike?"

She didn't even hesitate to nod. She was tough.

"'Atta girl."

Ilya wriggled in Nikita's arms. Bringing her hands together, she cupped them around her mother's ear and whispered, "That's what Michael said too."

Turning slightly, she glanced at Michael. Nikita smiled. She remembered the times he used to say that to her.

Good times.

Nikita finally saw what Alex meant that there was no point keeping these two people away from each other anymore.

He was right. Just like with her, Ilya will always be his girl too.

Tucking a stray strand behind her daughter's ear, it was Nikita's turn to whisper something to her.

When she was done, the little girl pulled away slightly and looked at her mother, eyes wide.

But Nikita just smiled and nodded.

It took almost a second for the child to take in the new information. After that, Ilya pecked her mother's lips lightly and said, "I'll always love you, Mommy."

"And I'll always love you too."

Walking over to Michael, Nikita handed their child to him.

Ilya crawled excitedly into his grasp and latched her arms around him. She then placed a loud kiss on his cheek.

"I love you, Daddy."

Do I hear an 'aww'?

So! Ilya finally knows that Michael is her father! Yay. A special shout out to nikitafan4ever for guessing what's gonna happen in this chapter. :D

No Mikita reunion still though, right? Tsk tsk. Sorry, I'm just prolonging the agony. Haha! But it's definitely getting closer!

Well, next chapter should definitely be fun. *wink wink*

Okay, anyway! So how'dya all find this chapter? Good? Bad? Over-the-top? Not enough?

And how about the gifts?

Let me know in the Reviews!

Oh, and other comments, criticisms, suggestions are always welcomed, y'know! :)

So until next update, and before I get too lost into fangirling again…

Thank you so much for reading, okay?

Spread the Mikita love.

xx Dani