Hello all of you,

Here comes something very different: I am a huge fan of Midsomer Murders and the characters of Tom and Cully Barnaby. So I thought that a quick one-shot was in order to capture the moment Cully actually realizes what her father does for a living and that the world is not only black and white.

I hope you like it and I promise that I will return to Thema con Variazione very soon. The next chapter is halfway done :) But I think I will return to the Barnabys once again because there is a nice idea by John Nettles himself about his character that I would like to delve into.

Anyway, enjoy this little piece!

Kleines

Cully's Question

When Tom Barnaby left the police academy with the highest grade possible, his mentor, an old and experienced police officer, took him by the arm and led him away from the festive mood.

"Well done, Barnaby!" the veteran was not one to waste many words. One last time he practiced his stern look on the man who had been his best student in many years.

"Thank you, sir!"

Teacher and student were looking at each other, judging and evaluating and the old man could tell that whatever advice he had to give would be politely listened to but Tom Barnaby was no longer willing to heed any advice because he was already off to make his own experiences. He sighed silently and spoke nonetheless:

"You, Barnaby, have been the best student I ever had and this is why I worry about you"

"Sir?" Not for the first time the startlingly blue eyes of the young man in front of him took him by surprise and forced him to choose his words more carefully than he liked.

"There is a thin line between a cop and a murderer, Barnaby. You can see more than the ordinary – you can understand the criminal. So watch your every step – you will not want to cross that thin line." Without further explanation the officer turned and walked away and Tom Barnaby realized for the first time that the man was really old with his slumped shoulders and tiredness that was oozing out of every move.

The advice did not make much sense to Tom Barnaby but one of the reasons why he was so successful in his job was his excellent memory and the words never left him.

Many years had passed since that festive day in June. Tom Barnaby was happily married and his daughter Cully had just turned seven. Since she turned his life upside down he reduced risks as much as he could when he went out to catch a murderer – the thought of his beautiful and clever daughter growing up without a father was unbearable to him and him not being able to see her grow into adulthood was his worst nightmare.

If asked, Tom Barnaby, newly appointed DCI, would have said that, yes, he was happy, very much so. He had a family he adored, a job he loved and it didn't look as if this would ever change. He was, however, not one to show his feelings openly and therefore, his happiness was well concealed. No one could take his source of energy from him, even if the case was difficult, witnesses refused to speak to him and his new sergeant was hopelessly slow in everything he did.

One evening, he came home late and just met his wife in the doorway. Joyce was in a hurry and greeted him with a fleeting kiss: "Tom, excellent, I've been waiting for you - I need to hurry so that I can go to the assembly of the book club. Cully is already upstairs and asking for you. Dinner is in the oven. See you later!"

With these words, his wife jumped into the car and was gone. Tom waved after the headlights and smiled. Yes, he was lucky that Joyce had everything under control and even managed to do some social activities. She might be a horrible cook but there were more important things in a relationship than that. He didn't spare a glance to whatever was reduced to ashes in the oven although his stomach was grumbling but went up the stairs to Cully's room.

His daughter was huddled up in the blanket but her eyes were wide awake and there was no trace of sleepiness in her voice when she greeted him with delight: "Dad!"

She stretched her arms out to him and he sat down on the bed and cradled her to him. She beamed up at him and he smiled back at her. Suddenly, however, her smile was gone and something serious settled on her features that was not really fitting for her age.

Tom Barnaby knew his daughter well and sometimes he would recognizes traits of himself in her. He braved himself for whatever question was coming this time and his assumption had been right, when the little girl in his arms started tentatively: "Dad, I've been thinking..."

He couldn't help but smile to himself. His seven-year old daughter had been thinking – the results were always fascinating and opened up completely new perspectives to him. So he prompted: "And what have you been thinking about, my darling girl?"

"You are a police man, Dad..." He just nodded and waited for her to continue which she did after a short pause: "Well, Josh says..." Here she hesitated again and he cursed Josh not for the first time. Cully had declared that she would either marry her dad or Josh from school. The boy had been nothing but trouble but Cully was fond of him and Joyce was convinced that well-behaved Cully could actually learn something from this rascal. His opinion on that matter was very different but he couldn't bear the idea of causing her pain by telling her to not play with Josh. So Josh remained her favourite playmate for the moment.

He listened obediently to what Josh had been saying: "Josh says that a police man catches thieves..."

"Josh is right – that is what I do. If someone steals something, I am going to catch him..."

"But Josh also says that you catch people who have killed other people..."

For a second Tom Barnaby froze with horror. He had always tried to protect Cully from the more gruesome aspects of his job but now he needed to say something. After a moment he conceded: "That is also right..." He knew he sounded lame and wished that this conversation would be over soon. But his daughter was not yet finished: "And I've been thinking, dad, why do people kill other people?"

Instinctively, he pulled her closer, wishing he could protect her from all the evil that was out there. He sighed deeply and looked into her eyes that were just as blue as his. Finally he said: "You know, Cully, not all people are good people. Some people are bad and they kill other people..."

"I know, dad, but why do they do this? Just because they are bad?"

Suddenly, Tom Barnaby heard the words of his mentor again: "There is a thin line between a cop and murderer..." He thought back to some of the cases he had had in the last few years: A woman had killed her husband because he had been so ill that living had been endless pain; a widow had poisoned her neighbour to protect the neighbour's child from further abuse; a man had shot a mad old woman blackmailing a family into financial ruin. Some of the murder cases had been marked by a selfless love for others and Tom Barnaby had felt horrible when he finally caught the murderer. He could actually understand the murderer and his motif and sometimes, late at night, when he couldn't sleep, he wondered what he would have done and yes, sometimes, he came to the same conclusion as the murderer.

With Cully's eyes full of trust and thirst for knowledge in front of him, he realized that he could indeed understand the criminal and that he would without hesitation turn into one if his family was in peril. This, however, was nothing that he would impart to his daughter. But she also deserved a better answer than the general remark that some people are just bad. So he tried to explain:

"No, Cully, not because they are just bad. Some people are really just bad and kill other people, that is true. But sometimes it is not so easy. Some people kill because they want something that others have – that is bad. Some people, however, kill to protect their family, some people kill because they love someone so much – it is difficult to explain. Maybe, when you are a little older, you will understand."

Cully looked up at him with big eyes and asked: "So, people who killed someone are not bad people?"

He sighed: "Most people are, yes, but there are a few who are not. But this is not an excuse for killing someone. Killing is always bad, it doesn't matter why they did it."

Cully frowned and admitted: "I don't understand that, dad..."

He smiled a little sadly down on her: "I also don't understand, Cully. But maybe, one day, you and I will understand..."

Cully nodded and finally sleep was settling on her. She just murmured: "I will tell you, when I have found it out, dad..."

"Yes, do that, my clever girl. And now go to sleep..."

"Good night, dad..." Cully was already drifting over to sleep and didn't hear her father's response. Tom Barnaby watched over his daughter's sleep and fought his own tiredness. It seemed to him that the time for easy solutions was over. He had wished that it would have lasted a little longer but on the other hand, Cully was too intelligent for easy answers. But next time, he would discuss something less difficult than the reasons why people murdered each other.

While he was pondering all of these things, sleep slowly conquered him and he gave in to the temptation of curling up next to her. Instinctively, Cully moved up to him and he held her in her arms in his sleep. He was softly snoring when Joyce returned from her meeting and tiptoed into the bedroom. A tender smile crept onto her face when she saw her husband and her daughter squeezed onto the small bed and she realized that she had been extremely lucky in marrying Tom Barnaby.