Disclaimer: All I own is the plot. Thank you. Also, for those of you who pay attention to eye color, I have decided to give Jones brown eyes instead of his natural green ones. Don't ask why...I don't know.

He wants her. Yes. He can't recall the last time he's wanted someone so badly. The healthy color on her body, the sparkle her eyes give off when the sun kisses them, and...those curves. Oh! Those long, sleek curves. He'd give anything just to touch...just to slide his hand along them. His fingers twitch. "So close..." But so very far away, too. All he can do is stare; The sounds of the office can't penetrate his attention. All he has to do is get up, walk...

"Jones?"

A stack of papers fall onto his desk. DS Benjamin Jones reluctantly tears his eyes away from the sexy black Volvo sitting quietly out in the car park. His carriage to the quiet place he calls his castle... "Yes, Sir?"

Blue eyes, despite being set into an older, wrinkled face, stand out proudly, stare at him with a neutralness he's come to know well. They neither smile nor frown, just simply stare. "Study that over the weekend."

Jones nods, and with the same neutralness, "Quiz on Monday, Sir?"

DCI Barnaby pauses all movement, gives his young DS a look that displays his thoughts without giving him reason to speak them. Really?

He allows the corners of his lips to be pulled up into his signature grin. He loves pushing the old man's buttons, no matter how much the old man doesn't enjoy it himself. He nods shortly a few times, reaching for the manilla folder. "Read it over the weekend. Got it. Have a good weekend, Sir." His twitchy fingers finally scoop up the set of keys lounging on his desk, and with a triumphant smile, he gets up from his desk and strides for the door.

Leather interior has never felt so good. Like a teen driving for the first time, he grips the steering wheel eagerly. The engine sends excited shivers down his back, the purrs of both big and little gears working together give him another reason to smile. It's true what they say about vehicles, he decides. When the engine feels good, so does the driver.

It all comes together as he finally sets on his way. The friction of tires and road beneath his body, soothing away all of the aches of a long week of work, the gentle rock of the vehicle on every curve he pulls the steering wheel to, the calm blur of blacks, blues, greens and browns as he whirs past the trees in nothing but the buttery light emanating from the front of the Volvo. He can't help but allow a sigh to resonate from the warm refines of his throat. Finally, a moment in which he has nothing to worry about.

His hands adjust the wheel slightly as he prepares for another curve in the road, only this time, something isn't right. As he rounds the last couple of feet, something stands in the middle of the road...something short and golden, and...directly in his path. All he can think to do is the one thing you're not supposed to do: jerk the wheel and slam on the breaks. The ploy works, for he misses the obstacle, coming to safe, if not rough stop just a few yards away.

"A little girl." He thought. He'd almost hit a little girl. He flung the door open without thinking, began to get out of the vehicle as quickly as he could, only...to be gagged on his seatbelt. A strangled sound, which can't be described aside from that, choked out of his throat as he felt his body sink back into the seat. He didn't even have time to think, really. He just flung the seat belt off and headed down the road at a sprint after locating the small figure just up ahead.

"Are you all right?" He asked. Then after a few deep breaths, "What are you doing? Why are you in the middle of the road?" His voice defined the word flustered.

The child couldn't have been older than five, the top of her head only reaching to his waist. Dark messy hair had fallen down in her face, blocking her eyes from his view. She tugged on the collar of her t-shirt, like bored children do, not daring to look at him as she kicked feebly at something invisible on the pavement.

Jones's senses heightened, causing him to look up and down the stretch of road. They needed to get out of the middle of it, quickly, before another car rounded the curve. Quickly (albeit awkwardly), he placed his hands on her shoulders, pushed her in the direction of the ditch and his car. When he felt that they were safe, he knelt down to her level, brushed some of the hair out of her eyes...striking blue ones, and asked, "Where are your parents?"

The child stared at the ground...or his shoes, he couldn't tell which.

He shifted his weight. "Do you have a name?"

Still, she stared at the ground.

Jones sighed. "I'm a police officer, you don't have to be afraid."

She looked up at him quickly. "Police?"

He nodded. Finally, he was getting somewhere. "Mhm. And I'm going to help you. But, I need to know who you are, and where your parents are at."

The child looked back down at the ground. "I dunno, mister."

Jones cocked his head to the side. "Were you looking for them?"

She looked at him again, and this time Jones could there was fear in her eyes. "Police?"

He nodded, his brows drawing together. "Yeah, police."

The child did the most unexpected thing, then. She threw her arms around him, buried her face in his neck. Jones's eyes widened, looking frantically about while he seemed frozen in place. He reached up, hands hesitating, and pat her on the back.

"I'm going to take you to the police station, okay?" When the child didn't move, he gently peeled her off of him, took her by the hand as he stood. So much for a peaceful evening...

I shall not post any more until I get some feed back. I haven't written anything in a while, so if it's complete and total rubbish, I completely understand. Please be mindful that I'm just warming up. :) Thanks! Reviews are the wood for my fire!