Disclaimer: See the first chapter. If you don't believe me, I'm sure I can find a group of women to explain to you that men never seem to call.

A/N: And more to come. I guess this is getting in posted in stages of days. For those of you counting: that means the one after this will be the end of Wednesday and there is still a Thursday and Friday to go. I just got back and had to do some actual work today, but don't worry, there is plenty more to come. And, there is an end in sight – Horatio has to eventually go back to work, too. As always, thank you for the reviews – it brightens my day to know you've enjoyed something I've written.

"Uncle Horatio!" Madison called.

Horatio's head snapped up and he focused on his niece and then quickly checked the beach. Madison was standing with her hands on her hips. He set down his book and went to join her.

"Yes, Madison?" he asked.

She looked up at him with an accomplished grin. "Look what I drew," she said proudly.

In the white sand was a child's image of a dolphin swimming in the waves. She had used shells to make the dolphin's eye and a smiley face. There were little fish and bubbles around the dolphin.

She's an artist, he thought while looking at Madison's creation. "That's wonderful," he told her. "I think – I think it's a great drawing."

Madison beamed happily. "It's my dolphin. See? He has friends swimming with him and little shells to play with and –"

He listened intently as she told him the story of her dolphin, who went to school one day but then decided he wanted to play instead. Only his mommy dolphin found out and she came swimming to find him and take him back to school.

"And then –" Madison took a deep breath. "His uncle came to pick him up from school and they went for ice cream. Can we get ice cream?"

Horatio glanced at his watch. "Why don't we have our sandwiches first? Then we can have ice cream."

Madison looked at him and then at her drawing. "I want to play some more first."

"You can do that," he told her.

"But I want you to play with me," she said. Madison put on her 'cute' look once more and batted her eyes at him.

Horatio was about to say no – how do you play with a five-year-old? – when he remembered what Alexx had said the day before. Madison needs you. He took a deep breath and looked around the beach. There were other parents with their children; some building sandcastles, some playing catch and others swimming.

"What, what would you like to do?" he asked her.

Madison took his hand. "I wanna go look for seashells."

He let her drag him to the water's edge. "Okay," he said. "What shells are we looking for?" The 'trash' line – where most shells and ocean debris wash up – appeared to have already been scoured through.

"No," she said and pointed over the water. "We need to look out there!"

Out there was out in the water.

Alexx, he thought, it's a good thing I trust you.

"Okay," he said and bent over to roll up his pant legs. Feeling ridiculous, he followed Madison out into the shallow water.

A natural sand bar that runs far out into the ocean keeps the water near the beach shallow and warm. The sand shifted slightly beneath his feet as they waded out, with small shells occasionally poking up. Little fish darted away from their approach. Madison had taken his hand again and led him further along the sandbar.

"Stop here," she suddenly ordered. Madison pointed into the water. "We can look for shells here."

Horatio stared down into the water. It lapped midway on his shins but came up to Madison's knees. Where their feet had disturbed the bottom, there were little clouds of sand but the water itself was crystal clear. Madison knelt down in the water and started to brush sand away with her hands.

"Help me," she said, "I want to find shells to show Mommy. I think they'll make her happy."

He crouched down, doing his best to keep his pants from getting wet, and sifted through the sand with Madison. She was intent as she worked to uncover shells, her small face showing concentration.

"What, what kind of shells are we looking for?" he asked. He figured they could search a five-by-five square foot area, about three inches into the sand. It would be easier if they had brought shovels or some kind of whisk –

Horatio stopped his thoughts. He was not at work. This was not a crime scene. He was with his niece and they were looking for shells on a sandbar.

"Shells," he repeated. Madison nodded and flashed him a grin.

"Pretty shells," she told him. "All kinds of pretty shells." She pulled one up from the sand. It was a tiny conch-shaped white shell. "Like this one," she said, showing it to him.

Horatio took it from her and admired the shell in the sunlight. "That is a pretty shell," he said.

"Put it in your pocket," Madison instructed.

So he did. They continued to wade along the sandbar, stooping to search the lagoon bottom for shells. Madison found several pink shells, iridescent angel wings shells and fan-shaped clam shells. There were mollusk shells and one large sand dollar. Horatio's pockets were wet and full when Madison uncovered a full-sized, cream-colored conch shell.

"Oooo!" she squealed. "Uncle Horatio! Look! Look!"

Madison held it out, her face beaming in awe. She traced the edge of the shell with a finger, her mouth still in a little "o" of delight.

Horatio studied the shell and nodded to her. "It's beautiful, Madison."

"Can I keep it?" she asked him, looking up with blue eyes.

He brushed the top of her head. "Yes. But, I think it's time we headed back for lunch."

Madison nodded solemnly. She held her handfuls of shells close to her swimsuit as precious treasures. Since her hands were full, Horatio gently guided her to shore with his fingertips on her shoulder. They waded back to the beach; another father, playing with his two sons, nodded to Horatio as they passed.

They toweled off back at their beach blanket, sprinkling sand across their belongings. Madison lay on her tummy, playing with her shells, while Horatio spread out their lunch. She set the shells aside to take the sub half he offered her.

"Uncle Horatio," she asked, studying the shells while she ate. "How do fish breath?"

"Uhm." Horatio thought for a moment. Fish breathing. "They have gills on the side of their heads and take air from the water, I guess."

Madison bobbed her head while she ate and thought about it. "Do you know everything? Mommy said you're really smart."

He didn't know about the little red-head in front of him for the first four years of her life. He didn't know his brother was alive and missing for five years. He nearly lost his team because he was too wrapped up in his own grief to see their pain even when it presented itself loudly.

Horatio glanced out to the open water. The last year had taught him one thing: He didn't know everything like he once thought he did.

"Madison," he said, "I think you're mommy is a very smart woman. The thing is…the thing is, grown-ups only know more because they've had time to learn it. Someday, you're going to be just as smart as me."

Madison crunched through a potato chip. She picked up the large conch shell again. "Can I be a policeman like you when I grow up?"

"You can be anything you want," he told her.

She grinned and kicked her feet against the beach blanket. Madison inspected her seashells while they finished lunch. When she looked like she'd doze off, he covered her with her towel to keep the sun from burning her fair skin.

Horatio pulled his book out again after wrapping up their trash. He settled back and tried to read but Madison's words echoed in his ears. Can I be a policeman like you when I grow up?

No, he wanted to tell her. Be a teacher, be lawyer, be a reporter, be anything other than a cop. Something in his chest hurt; Horatio thumbed through this book, ignoring the pages, unable to identify the pain. Madison stirred under the towel and he heard navigator birds and children calling to each other on the beach.

Grow up, have a career, get married and have red-hair children, he silently told her. Have something with doors and a long life with your family.

Madison rolled over and opened her ocean-blue eyes. She sat up and tugged at her messy braid.

"Why are sad?" she asked him.

"I'm not sad," he said smoothly and smiled at her, closing his unread book.

Madison stood up and walked to his spot on the blanket. "You look sad," she told him. "Mommy sometimes looks sad, too."

"And, and what does she tell you?" he asked her.

Madison shrugged, Horatio's own mannerism mimicked back to him. "That I make her happy by being here."

Horatio gathered Madison into his arms and close to the pain in his chest. She giggled and squirmed, resting her head on his shoulder. "You make me happy by being here, too, Madison."

She kissed his cheek. "I like you, Uncle Horatio." She wiggled out of his arms and ran her hands through his red hair, making it as messy as possible. She giggled. "Now you look like me."

Horatio groaned, reaching for a comb that wasn't in his back pocket. He settled for smoothing his hair with his hands.

"Why don't you go play?" he suggested with a grin.

Madison shifted her weight from one foot to the other. She glanced past him to the little building just past the palm grove. "Uhm," she muttered. "I gotta go to the bathroom."

Horatio glanced across the beach hoping to catch the eye of the mother he had seen earlier. Her blanket was empty. He debated calling Alexx but decided harassment about geckos was more than enough.

"Okay," he said, picking up his wallet and putting his shoes back on. He stood up and took her hand. "Let's go."

They walked – well, he walked, she hopped – the distance to the public restroom. The doors for the men's and women's rooms were side-by-side. He frowned, looking from door to door. Obviously, Horatio couldn't enter the women's room. But just as obviously, he wasn't letting Madison go in there alone.

"Alright," he said, taking a breath. "Stand right here. Do not move." Madison nodded, still shifting her weight from foot to foot.

Horatio stepped inside the men's room and took out his badge. "Miami-Dade Police!" he called. "I need to secure this restroom."

There was some flushing and one teenager groaned, "Aw man! I didn't do it!"

"I don't care, son," Horatio told him. "Everyone out."

Three men – two adults and the teenager – quickly left, passing by Horatio. He checked on Madison just outside the door, and then opened the doors to the stalls. He lowered one seat, wiped it and laid toilet paper on it. Then he fetched Madison and quickly led her to the stall.

"Here you go, sweetheart," he said, closing the door. "Wash your hands when you're done. And don't touch anything else in here."

Madison nodded and struggled with her suit. Horatio went back to the main door and took up a guard station until she was done.