Disclaimer: Yep. Not mine. staring longingly at the telephone

A/N: Real Life continues to intrude, slowing me down a bit. Sorry this is short but it finishes Wednesday at the beach. Two and a half days to go, a fully-formed plot idea in place – as in this actually does lead to something – and it's been very hot here and I have no air conditioning. Thank you for the love and patience.

The Florida sun skimmed past its highest point while Horatio and Madison waded back to the shore after their second round of shell hunting. Far down the beach the ice cream buggy was ringing a playful sound as it drew closer. Madison heard it and started skipping, begging for an ice cream cone before they left for the day.

The buggy arrived just as they finished packing up their spot under the coconut trees. Horatio gave her money when it stopped near them and Madison and a group of children gathered around it. Each one vied for the spot closest the ice cream man. Horatio watched, amused. Madison had managed to squirm her way up to the front.

"Let me guess," a man said next to Horatio. He had walked over with his two boys, who had then run to join the crowd. "The little red-head is yours."

Horatio turned to nod at the man. "Yep."

"She's about five, six?" he asked. Horatio nodded again. "My boys are four and seven. They grow up so fast. It's, like, yesterday the nurse put Jimmy in my arms and now I take him to t-ball practice on Saturdays."

Horatio gave the man a lop-sided smile. "It seems like yesterday she came into my life," he confided. "Now she's managed to turn everything upside down."

"Yeah, well, kids will do that to you," the man agreed, shading his eyes to better watch his sons. "They change everything on you."

MttS

There was no protest when Horatio announced bedtime. Madison giggled through her bathing suit-shower before wiggling into her nightgown. She padded out to the living room, bunny in arms, to say goodnight to Horatio.

She found him sitting on the couch, leafing through a photo album. Madison climbed on the couch and under his arm to settle in Horatio's lap. He kissed the top of her head when she bent over the page to see the pictures.

"Who's that?" she asked, pointing to one of them.

"That," Horatio told her, "that is my mother. Your grandmother."

Madison nodded as if she understood. "She looks like you." Madison touched the face of the woman in the photo and then Horatio's cheek. "See?" she asked, as if he understood.

Horatio looked at the picture again, trying to see the resemblance that Madison noticed. He always thought he must look like his father, because neither Marilynn Caine nor his brother, Raymond, had the bright red hair he was known for. Madison watched him, waiting for a response.

"I do," he told her. Madison grinned.

"Where's your daddy?" she asked, looking through the pictures and turning a page in the book.

Horatio cleared his throat. Even coming from his innocent niece, the question still hurt. He didn't have an answer at six and he didn't have one at 46.

"I don't know," he told her honestly. "We grew up without one."

"Oh," Madison said brightly. "Just like me."

Horatio looked up sharply at Madison. She was smiling, pleased to have found a way that she and Uncle Horatio were a like. Except, between Raymond and himself, they had made sure she would grow up without a daddy. And Madison saw nothing wrong with that. It was his worst fear come true: he had become like the father he never knew.

He glanced at the clock. "I think, I think it's time someone went to sleep," he told her. Madison pouted and snuggled into his chest. Horatio set the photo album on the side table and carefully stood, caring her in his arms.

Using his shoulder to flip the light switch, Horatio carried his niece to her bed.

"Alright, sweetheart," he said, settling her between the sheets. "You sleep tight. We have another adventure tomorrow. I don't want you to be tired."

Madison hugged her bunny and burrowed into her pillow. "What are we gonna do?" she asked, then stifled a yawn.

Horatio sat on the edge of her bed. "We," he said, "are going to ride a glass-bottom boat and see brightly colored fish. But," he held up a warning finger, "only if you sleep."

"Okay," she said, sitting up. She pulled at his arm until he came near her, then she kissed his cheek. "I like you, Uncle Horatio. I like being with you."

He hugged her. "I like being with you, too, Madison. Now, go to sleep."

Horatio glanced over his shoulder as he flicked off the light before heading back to the living room. He picked up the photo album, considered opening it again, and decided against it. Horatio wasn't up to dealing with his mother right then. He took the album back to its place in the bookshelf and went to the kitchen. After a day in the sun – which managed to burn the part in hair, the only place he couldn't get sunscreen – he felt it was time for a very cold beer.

There was the soft padding of a five-year-old's bare feet. Horatio turned around to see Madison standing on tip-toe to reach one of the day's treasures from the kitchen countertop.

"I forgot my shell," she explained as she reached the conch shell. She cradled it in her hands and hurried back to bed.