Hey everyone :) Sorry it's been so long. I recently sustained a concussion and it's not been the best of times :P Now well on the mend, and thought I'd publish something small. I do promise that the Skeletons sequel is on the way :)

I'd like to dedicate this fic to Roots4Miami, one of the most keen, committed H/K fans out there - keep up all the support for this fandom!

Horatio parked his hummer and weaved his way through the large airport car park, oblivious to the heat of the Miami sun.

Three years, he thought as he entered the arrivals building. He felt the swell of butterflies in his stomach; for some reason he couldn't help but be nervous. Looking down, he was slightly shocked to see that his hands were shaking as they fiddled with his sunglasses.

With twenty minutes still to wait, Horatio trailed over to a café and bought himself a coffee, before sinking into one of the couches that had a good view of the arrivals board.

As the plane finally touched down on American soil, Kyle closed his eyes and savoured the feeling of returning home – alive and unharmed – with the majority of his platoon. They had suffered their losses in the black midst of war, and Kyle spared the brave men that he had once known a thought as he looked forward to seeing his family and friends once more. Opening his eyes, Kyle met his comrades' relieved and excited grins with an equally eager one of his own.

It was good to be home.

Horatio couldn't help jumping to his feet immediately after the announcement ended. He checked his watch and abruptly binned his untouched coffee before striding over to the arrivals gate, bouncing slightly on the balls of his feet. Belatedly realising that his hands were still shaking, he stuffed them into his pockets to hide them.

Kyle sighed in frustration as the entire platoon was stalled at the compulsory security checkpoints. He fixed his gaze on the double doors that were metres away from him, knowing that just beyond them his father was waiting for him.

Horatio couldn't help but gasp as he watched Kyle walk through the airport terminal doors.

His son had grown: taller than before and just as lean, at first glance Kyle looked thin and brittle, but on closer inspection his body was primarily muscular and undoubtedly strong and resilient. His skin was tanned and his hair blonder and spikier than Horatio remembered.

Kyle walked with long, confident strides, his stance proud and full of conviction. Still kitted out in his standard khaki uniform and heavy black boots, his skin was clean of all the Afghani earth that had often dusted his cheeks.

His eyes had changed the most. There was no youth, no innocence. Though an immensely troubled childhood had meant that most of those qualities had already been stripped from Kyle, there had still been lingering vestiges within his gaze. Now, Horatio found himself mourning the loss of those last shreds of naivety.

A small, tender smile spread across the lieutenant's lips as he met his son's eyes.

As Kyle smiled back at his father from across the airport, he could see that he hadn't been the only one to change. His father had aged, if only slightly. His shoulders were slightly slumped, not as broad and proud as Kyle had known them to be, as if they supported a crippling burden. Those eyes were jaded and weary, suggesting that Horatio had endured a rough three years of his own.

But currently there was a bright spark of happiness as those eyes were fixed on the figure of their son, and Kyle was more than happy to keep it that way.

He upped his walking pace, his smile rapidly growing into a glowing grin as he approached his father, abruptly dumping his back on the floor.

Horatio beamed as he extended his arm in offer of a handshake, mimicking Kyle's actions from the last time they had seen each other and said their goodbyes.

Kyle let out a short laugh as his father's gesture, remembering the moment well. Still grinning, he shook his head fondly before throwing his arms around his father in a fierce embrace.

Horatio sighed happily, tightening his arms around his son and burying his face into Kyle's shoulder, relishing the feel of having the boy home and in his arms. After a long moment he pulled back, one hand moving to cup Kyle's face lovingly. His eyes glistened with tears as mirrored Kyle's watery smile with another of his own.

"I missed you," said Horatio, struggling against the lump in his throat.

"I missed you too, Dad."

Horatio's smile widened as he hugged his son close once more. "I can't believe it's really you."

"You'd better believe it," Kyle replied, giving his father one last squeeze before breaking the embrace. "Because I still call dibs on the couch and the TV remote."

Horatio laughed warmly and clapped his son on the shoulder. "You drive a hard bargain, Son," he said as he bent to help Kyle with his bags. "But I'm sure we can come to some arrangement. It's good to have you back."