It's not like she had expected him to look sad.

It's not that she was disappointed, or anything. Not by any means and not by how trimmed up clean and happy and unconsciously grinning he seemed. It just hadn't been entirely what she'd expected. In fact, it had been the complete opposite of what she'd expected to find. At least this way she was happily surprised instead of concerned. Because he looked far better, far brighter, and way more energized to see her than she'd expected.

Her last two breaks she'd missed out on heading back to DC because of other plans, other trips, and even the time before that he'd been his more recently usual rumpled and grumpish self. He'd been churlish after a tough case and griped at her when she'd nudged and pried too far into his personal life. Gill had just waved it off, told her not to take it too personally, but she'd still been concerned about it when she'd gotten back to class. Well, at least until he'd left her a voice mail that had been giddier than usual and all puns in some sort of pentameter or hexameter. Or limericks, maybe? She had no idea, she wasn't an English major.

But... this time? He looked nothing like she had feared he might.

Because she'd expected pouty and moody Cal Lightman, grousing about the crowd or traffic before giving way to the norm of affectionate and doting dad.

This way, though... he reminded her of what he'd been like when she was younger, when he'd first started the firm and he'd been off to meetings every other minute with Gillian. When she'd gotten insatiably bored by his lack of presence and decided to read all the books she could lay her fingers on in the house (starting in his office). When she'd re-organized his vinyl by color and then alphabet just to annoy him into giving her attention. When she'd started to realize that he and her mother may have a sort of love for each other for-ever-and-ever-amen but living with each other had been a really idiotic idea. Staying married had been an even worse one.

This was different, though – and it started in the crinkles at the corners of his eyes as he smiled on the sight of her. There was a surprisingly patient and loving look on his face as he caught sight of her and just watched her move toward him with a growing smirk. His hands were stuffed in his pockets and a dark overcoat slung back lazily from his hips as he balanced back on the heels of his boots.

Boots with a nicely cut two piece suit and a Cheshire grin.

Jesus, some things never. freaking. changed.

"You look happy," Emily said exuberantly, smirking as he growled a playful noise and wrapped both arms around her. He squeezed hard on her, snugging her up into his chest as he buried his face in her hair and let off a dramatically sighed sound.

She laughed into how far he managed to tug her up off her feet as he swayed back on his heels, taking her and her carry on up as he started turning a silly circle. Emily tugged tighter around his neck as she drew her feet up, trying to keep from clipping some of the other passengers as they continued on around them.

"Hell," he breathed out sincerely, voice dropping into obvious warmth and affection as he lowered her loosely laced boots back to the polished flooring. "I've missed you, girl."

"Good God," she said softly as both her hands scrubbed against the short trimmed beard that covered his jaw, tweaking against the bits of gray, "what is this?"

"Y'don't like it?" Cal mugged impishly as he lifted his jaw into her teasing, pursing his lips up pouting as she studied him intently. "Foster says it's distinguished."

"I think it's nice." She pried his head to the side by the jaw and pinched lightly on him, smirking as he grunted a supposedly annoyed and pained sound. "And who dressed you this morning, staffers at New York Fashion Week?"

"Funny little thing, ain'tcha?" Cal rolled his eyes as he tugged at the strap of her carry on, lifting it off her shoulder so that he could wing it over his own and tuck her close again. "Was in high court. Certain specific demands regarding my appearance were made."

Emily panned him a disbelieving glance before looking down the charcoal jacket and white dress shirt, her brow lifted high as she tugged at the knot of his tie. "And you did as you were told?"

"Oi! I'm exemplary at followin' orders. Gettin' outta the noose soon as we're in the car, though." His defensive tone had wended toward tender as he'd tugged her into his side, arm looped around her shoulders tightly. "How was the flight?"

"Slept some," Emily shrugged as he steered her toward the baggage claim area.

She felt him slow their steps, intentionally lagging them as the rest of the passengers hurried past them. There was a loose and comfortable relaxation to him that she surprised her, made her smile as she turned her head and studied him for a moment. She smiled into how deep but warm the crinkled lines around his eyes seemed, how crooked his grin was as he turned his jaw into meeting her scrutiny. He caught the way she was watching him and chuckled as he turned into her leaning.

His kiss went buried in her hair just before he exhaled a sort of relief and dropped his head against hers, "And your mum?"

"Crazy busy," she explained, sure to keep her voice neutral with how close he was leaning. "Lunatic speed, per usual. We had dinner late last night and breakfast at five."

"Well, you're relaxin' here." He kissed at her temple chastely before nodding them forward a little quicker, his pace picking up as they got closer to the large and wending baggage belt. "Gill wanted you over for dinner tonight but I told 'er to sod off."

"Dad."

"You're my daughter," his voice shot over hers with pitch. "At least, I believe I have the proper paperwork somewhere."

"Just tell her to come over. Gimme your phone."

"You've your own, klepto." He shoved her hand off, the other palm shunting her away from him playfully."Tell 'er yourself."

Emily slapped at his fingers, laughing as he caught against her wrist and swung her back into a half hug. "Why can't I use yours?"

"Because you have your own," Cal asserted quickly, mild softness in his voice as it betrayed him. "I know, I pay for it."

"Are there dirty pictures on your phone?" She just grinned at him, turning her head up into watching his face go completely blank, features masking over as he passed her an emotionless look. "Are you sexting someone? Who is she?"

He pushed at her lightly again as they neared the baggage claim, mindful he wasn't shoving her into one of the others waiting for the belt to get moving. "Get your bags before I leave you here like the pathetic orphan y'probably actually are."

Emily mocked shock and intentionally pitched her voice louder, "You are sexting someone, aren't you?"

He lifted a hand at her quickly and accusingly, "Shoulda sold you off ages ago."

"Gill's already at the house."

He nodded silently into the statement, one-handedly tugging the tie loose from around his neck as the other hand spun the wheel and veered them toward the parking exit. A quick glance to the side and he noted she'd already made herself well comfortable in the passenger seat, both her booted feet up on the dash because, obviously, she knew it annoyed the bleedin' hell out of him whenever she did it. Cal unstrung the tie from around his collar and tossed it into her lap, distracting her from typing back a quick text on her phone.

"Says she thought that was the plan?" The higher pitch of her voice, even in its softness, implied somethin' important – or, rather, something she thought was important. Not that he had any idea what.

Well, actually, he knew exactly what she was implying.

Just wasn't... completely prepared to tackle that conversation by his lonesome.

Cal squinted as another driver exiting the lot quickly cut him off and he leaned forward as the lane cleared, thwapping his fingers against her feet in a silent order to drop them. "Probably wants to go over what happened in court."

"Why?" Emily snorted as she complied then dropped the phone into her lap and lifted the tie, rolling it slowly up over the knuckles of one hand. "What happened in court?"

"Liars telling lies. Whatcha think happens in a courtroom?"

She blatantly ignored his deflection, brow arched and looking older than he'd remembered. "Why is Gill waiting for us?"

"I just told ya, Judge and Jury." Cal tossed back, feeling the defensive toss to his tone and trying to bring it back under control. "Jesus, why ya think? She wants to see you. Misses you for reasons currently unknown to me."

"We talk. Text." Emily shrugged off complacently as she leaned over the console and tucked the rolled tie into his jacket pocket.

"Yeah? About me?"

"About everything but you," his daughter answered drolly. "You know somebody sent her flowers last week? She sent me a picture."

Spring hydrangea and in blues and purples and all the painted in betweens. Mounds of them but still somehow delicate looking rather than clunky or ostentatious. Broad green leaves that had just flooded over the edges of the short vase. And he'd chosen them specifically for her while the woman in the shop had just smirked at how obviously fidgety the decision had made him.

"She's going to love whatever you choose." She'd been sure of that when she'd said it from behind the counter, eyes clear and full of honest humor.

"Sure, but she's picky, ya know? Exceptionally hard to please. Love that bit of her, actually."

He bit into his cheek and turned his glance away from his daughter at the memory, purposefully eyeing traffic rather than allowing her to see anything but a bit of his profile. "Yeah, I saw 'em."

"When I asked what the card said she told me it was too 'indecent' to share," Emily waved off and he tried to keep the grin from twitching over his lips as she picked her phone up from her lap again.

Well... yeah. For sure. It had been a little too risque to share with his daughter in particular.

But it'd put a simply beautiful blush on the woman for the rest of the day and he'd especially enjoyed later checking to see how far down her throat that flush had carried.

"Why we talkin' about this?" Cal asked, feeling his voice strangle up in pitch. "Why's it always Gill right off, huh?"

"Because you're spineless and you need a good shove?" Emily rebounded with a flat and monotone voice, nary a movement to her shoulders nor a flinch over her face. Nothing but flat cold and stark daughter-ish reality in her voice.

She wasn't gonna be gentle on him this trip – not that she ever really was. Because it seemed that apparently she felt she'd missed out on prodding at him the last few breaks. When she'd gone elsewhere than home and he'd distracted himself from pouting about it by annoying the unholy crap out of Gill. Which, really... either was entertaining. At least it had kept him amused.

Cal snorted and weaved them farther into traffic as he avoided the turn of her head. "What I need is a less invested daughter."

She dropped her head back into the seat and rolled him a blasé look, a smile inching its way across her lips as she continued her perusal of his beard and the suit. "Or a smack to the back of the head."