Tagging: Nikita, Owen, Alex, Sean, Jaden, Thom, Michael.
Ships: Nowen/Mikita. Salex.
Rating: K. (For now.)

I am so sorry this took as long to update as it did. I hope that now I've got this pivotal chapter done, I'll be able to update faster next time.

And yes, it's definitely going to get a lot more interesting now.

The estate buzzed with activity. Everything was being prepared for the visitors that would shortly be arriving. Amanda commanded loud enough for it to be heard all the way outside and whoever dared to displease her got to be the recipient of her stress-induced temper. Outside, Robbie had been working for days but he kicked it up a notch now.

Nikita had seen him struggle to juggle it all though so instead of sitting inside and pondering what to wear (she had known what to wear well in advance, anyway) she headed out in shorts and a tank top and offered him a hand.

"Are you sure?" he asked, squinting his eyes against the bright sunlight, and she nodded decidedly in response. "Okay. Do you want to mow the lawn? You get to ride this beauty."

He patted a big lawn mower, the leather seat taunting invitingly. Nikita looked from the machine and then around. Yeah, the Udinovs really would need such guns to keep their garden neat.

"If you explain to me how it works I'll gladly mow the lawn," she said, smiling brightly. Robbie seemed instantly less stressed out and it made him look his age again, which was a meager twenty years (but people that needed money, well...).

After a short explanation Nikita hopped on and took it for a drive.

It was kind of relaxing, with the heat beating down on her shoulder and the grass being whizzed short beneath her. She could do this for a while and it did seem to tone her nervousness down.

Nikita had been as much nervous as she had been excited for what was to happen that day, but on the verge of Owen's family arriving it was especially the former that won out. She felt the pressure of having to make a good first impression. She was the next Elliot-to-be, someday, and, well.

She got about half an hour of mowing in before Alex finally figured out where she was and all but dragged her back inside. "Doing garden work like an employee? Damn Nikita, how ever are we going to make a proper lady out of you?"

It was a joke though—or so Nikita hoped, at least.

Hours after being thrown into the mass of people she couldn't believe she had been biting her nails for this. They weren't her kind of people—more Owen's, which was to be expected—but they were nice. Interesting. She had spent a good hour just listening to Owen's grandfather talk about his travels, about the things he'd seen. She had grown fond of one of his cousins immediately. Seymour was funny in a way that wasn't obvious.

And she had been able to hang out with Michael a little, at the back of the room near the table with food, daring one another to taste the things that looked the grossest.

"This is supposed to be food of the gods?" Nikita pulled a face at the oyster Michael had dropped into her hand. He was cutting a slice from a lemon and when he had, somehow, succeeded to do so without spraying the juice all over himself he squeezed it over her hand, some of it landing on the grey mush and some of it, inevitably, dripping down her fingers. "You sonofa-"

"Language!" Michael chanted, leaning back against the wall. "Wouldn't want the Elliots to throw you out."

"Oh please, you'd love that."

He mock-gasped and popped another slice of lemon into his mouth, pulling some faces of his own before spitting out the peel. "Milady, you have the most unbecoming image of me."

Nikita poked her elbow into his abdomen, causing him to sputter out a cough. She should've never told him about Alex's remark.

"Milady, such viole—"

"Oh shut up."

Eventually it was okay for them to leave the house so they spread out over the expanse of the lawn and scattered into tiny groups. Nikita lay down in the grass, arms propped underneath her head so she could enjoy the sun. It had been stuffy inside the lounge.

Alex seemed more eager than usual to claim her personal space and use her abdomen as a pillow.

"I just ate," Nikita whined. The weight of a young Elliot pressing on her filled stomach wasn't really enjoyable. Alex was too content to move though, it seemed. "Fine, but don't wriggle."

"Thank you Nikki!"

The family swarmed out around them and personnel was scurrying around to provide refills and little snacks before dinner was served. Nikita couldn't even think of dinner with how much Michael had made her taste. Michael... She craned her neck to look around but couldn't find him anywhere.

When she tried to grab her phone, Alex sighed. "I couldn't move either, stop it."

Nikita rolled her eyes but put her questions to rest... for now. Michael was mature enough to keep himself entertained anyway. So instead of worrying about him, she absent-mindedly ran her fingers through hazel curls and watched clouds drift by, going along in the silly game of trying to see shapes in them.

Alex was really good (more like creative) at that game.

Dinner got served in one of the most spacious dining halls the mansion had to offer, tall enough to house giants and broad enough to allow several tables parallel to one another. Again she saw the working people hurry their asses off, carrying enormous plates and bowls of food.

Amanda had outdone herself but Nikita felt too guilty to eat. This amount of food could feed half of Toronto's starving children. And she wasn't that hungry anyway.

Once upon a time her family had been starving, living on bread and water because otherwise they couldn't pay the rent. She felt like she was Katniss from the Hunger Games, in the Capitol only to be disgusted by what she saw on a background of District 12 poverty.

"Not hungry, love?" Owen asked when he leaned in, his lips ghosting along the shell of her ear. "There are a couple of vegetarian dishes."

She faked a smile. Owen was sweet, and he couldn't help it, right? He'd been raised in it like she'd been raised in the very opposite... "Ate too much earlier."

"Michael has a bad influence on you," he laughed and prompted by that, Nikita scanned her environments once more.

Ah! There he was. Sitting next to Seymour and seeming just as little inclined to eat something. She smiled at him but he was too absorbed in what his neighbor was saying.

She turned back to Owen. "I'll get some food later if I get hungry."

A firm kiss was planted on her cheek and then her boyfriend went back to eating while engaged in intense musings once more. Maybe with an exception of this one, family dinners were optional. She'd have to ask once they had some privacy.

The biggest surprise of that day didn't come in the person of one Seymour Birkhoff, though finding out just different he was had definitely been one. No, it came late that night, when alcohol had been served and the atmosphere had loosened up significantly.

Owen was not a man of fancy words but he demanded silence and allowed the crowd to circle around him. Nikita stood next to him, one eyebrow slightly arched because what is happening?

"Dear family. I can't express how happy I am to see all of you again... even you, aunt Pam." A dry chortle came from nearby, somewhere to her right. "And I'm really happy that you've all had the chance to meet my girlfriend. She's wonderful, isn't she?"

Nikita ducked into his side, burying a polite blush behind her hair. "Stop it," she whispered, her tone upbeat but a little fidgety. She didn't like attention, but she was getting all of it.

"I'm afraid I can't, Nikki. Because I love you. And I want my entire family to know."

There was a round of applause and Nikita laughed into her hand as she tried to compose herself. This was monkey and bananas. She was treated like a god damn celebrity. She was tr—oh god.

It all clicked even before Owen dipped down to his knee, even before he popped open a little box that contained a ring that was, surprisingly, modest but beautiful, even before he said, "I love you more than anything and I want to spend the rest of my life with you."

And even before he asked, "Will you marry me?"

The answer was obvious. No one had ever loved her but Owen, and all her affection was for the same man. But she looked around anyway, at all the hopeful smiles and Alex's barely contained, utter joy.

Her smile shone with a thousand watt. "Of course. Yes. A thousand times yes."

He wrapped his arms around her, spun her around. He took her hand, her eyes, her breath—she kissed him while the ring slipped onto her finger and didn't stop until the crowd had become as rowdy as any upper class family could get.

She only tore away from Owen when Elliot after Elliot demanded hugs and kisses. Alex jumped onto her back and cuddled her from behind.

Nikita couldn't stop smiling, feeling overjoyed and pressing back the worried thoughts that had been haunting her all week.

Michael was the last thing on her mind—but he couldn't stop looking at her, like he was witness to a disaster.