Old rumors never die; nor do they fade away. They simply lay dormant for a while until the next appropriate time appears.

TERRY ANN KNOPF, Rumors, Race, and Riots

In a dark car somewhere outside Causton, two men, the older at the wheel, the younger in the passenger seat, sit in silence.

It has been exactly one week since Ben Jones was able to drop the "acting" from his status as Detective Constable. His dream has finally come true, he's a CID officer and he's working for a man whose work he has admired for a while already – Detective Chief Inspector Tom Barnaby.

"What do you make of rumours, Jones?" Barnaby's question seems to come out of the blue and startles the DC out of his thoughts.

"Uhm – there's always some truth in them?" It would be much easier to answer for Ben if he had any idea what had triggered the question in the first place.

"Often, Jones, not always."

The young DC nods, but doesn't really understand what they're talking about. "Yes, Sir," he says, because it always seems a good approach towards your superiors.

A minute or two pass in silence before Ben gives up his attempt to get to the bottom of the comment. He twists a little in his seat so he can look at his superior. "Why did you ask, Sir?"

Barnaby doesn't take his eyes off the road as he casually replies, "Oh, just wondering. You know, there's always a lot of gossip going round the station."

Ben nods enthusiastically. "Oh yes, just the other day Meyers from traffic mentioned that WPC Murray is having an affair with..."

He is interrupted by the DCI, lifting his left hand off the wheel, holding it up like a traffic warden stopping a line of cars. "Yes, thank you, Jones. It wasn't a request to be brought up to speed with the latest gossip."

Chastised, Ben turns back to look straight ahead. "Sorry, Sir."

Again time is passed in silence, only interrupted by the ticking of the indicator as they take a right turn.

"You haven't heard then, yet, have you?" Barnaby still doesn't look at his new junior partner.

Ben looks at the DCI's profile, a puzzled expression on his face. "Heard what?"

"Oh, you'd know if you had heard. I'm not sure if it's still going around anyway. But now that you're my right hand," he finally glances at Ben, "or rather my left, you might hear a rumour about me."

Ben is slightly miffed at immediately being degraded from right to left hand before he realises that Barnaby is referring to his being left handed. He resists the urge to roll his eyes, that probably wouldn't go down well with his superior. Occupied with that trail of thought, it takes his brain a moment to catch up with the end of Barnaby's sentence: A rumour about the DCI? He tries to come up with anything but no, he hasn't heard any rumour about his boss, not a single one.

"No, I haven't." He looks at his superior expectantly but the older man doesn't seem willing to tell him anything specific.

"If you do, just remember there's not always truth in rumours."

Ben shakes his head a little, wondering why his boss is being so secretive. If it's a rumour going round the station, he's likely to hear it anyway; so why the mystery?

"You could just tell me yourself," he suggests, trying not to sound as curious as he is.

Barnaby glances at him once more for a brief moment. "I suppose I could," he agrees. But he doesn't.

Ben would love to ask, to probe, but this is his immediate superior and he doesn't want to get on the wrong foot with him, so he keeps his mouth firmly shut.

He is none the wiser by the time they reach their destination and their interview with a man related to their current case makes him forget all about the rumour. Standing at Barnaby's side, he takes notes, watches, learns. Back in the car twenty minutes later, he is flipping through his notes trying to find a clue somewhere among them, when Barnaby once again startles him out of his thoughts.

"Do you know who Gavin Troy is, Jones?"

Ben gives him a puzzled look and flips through his notes some more, trying to find the name among them. But then his brain provides him with sudden insight.

"Oh. Yes, Sir. I never met him but I know of him."

The DCI nods. "He is a good friend, even went out with my daughter a couple of times," he states, throwing Ben a look that clearly warns him off attempting to do the same.

Why is Barnaby telling him that about one of his previous sergeants, Ben wonders. Just to warn him off trying to date the boss's daughter? Not knowing what to reply, he simply nods and his gaze wanders back to his case notes.

But this time, Barnaby hasn't finished with his chosen topic. "Some officers had a little misconception about him." When he glances at his junior partner, he is met by a mix of puzzlement and curiosity. He looks back to the road ahead before continuing. "Someone thought he was my lover."

Ben's mouth nearly hangs open at that statement and he first nods, then shakes his head in disbelief. "Which he wasn't," he comments slowly.

Barnaby throws him a meaningful look.

"Which of course he wasn't. Good friend, took your daughter out. Got it," he quickly ads.

"Exactly."

So that must be the rumour that might reach his ears through the grapevine, Ben concludes. He studies the DCI out of the corner of his eye, wondering how anyone could get the idea that Tom Barnaby, happily married and seemingly protective father of an adult daughter, might not only have had an affair with a junior officer, but with a male junior officer, was beyond him.

"I see what you mean about not all rumours having some truth in them, Sir."

"That's why you're working with me now while Scott jumped at the first chance to get away. He let himself be deceived by rumours."

Ben shakes his head in disapproval. Admittedly, he's not known the DCI personally for long, but he's happy to trust his word more than any gossip overheard in the locker room. Some hero worship might play into that, but so what? Pleased that Barnaby has decided to tell him about the rumour himself, he leans back in his seat with a small smile playing on his lips and returns his attention to their current case.