This is dedicated to Anna Rennie-Clarkís dog, Res, who actually uses Sentinel flea control.

Thanks to Anna for asking me to write it. Mischief is accepted in all its forms. Thanks also to my betas, TAE and Anna. Mischief is better when itís somewhat understandable. Last but not least in any way, thanks to Ronnee for hosting my stuff. Mischief is best when shared.

Standard Disclaimer. I donít own The Sentinel (the show, the commercial, or the flea control). The Sentinel show is owned by Pet Fly and whoever they gave rights to at the present. I make no money, just comments from my fellow fans. (hint hint hint)

This is intended strictly for fun and has absolutely no meaning at all. It is not an attempt to make any sort of coherent commentary.

This is the sequel to Commercial Break, so you might want to read it first.


Commercial Break II
By: Lila Kulp

Simon sank into his easy chair. It had been another one of those days. Hell, it had been one of those weeks! It had been the kind of week where he expected at any moment to get a call saying that either the criminal they were after was in custody or one of his people was in the hospital. Thankfully nobody was in the hospital. This time.

Not that Ellison and Sangburg hadnít done their usual demolition routine. In fact Simon was suspicious that they were trying to add to the act. Jim had not only wrecked another of the department cars, but he did it by ramming the car he was chasing. To make matters worse, Sandburg had been the one driving the other car while the suspect held a gun on him.

At least there hadnít been any cows involved this week.

Simon suddenly flinched and almost just clear out of his chair as popping sounds started coming from the kitchen. Thankfully he remembered that it was only Daryl making popcorn for the Friday night movie tonight. Joan would not appreciate it if he had pulled his gun thinking that it was gunfire.

Daryl came out of the kitchen carrying two cans of soda. Simon really would have liked to have a beer, but since Daryl wasnít old enough yet he drink pop like his son. "Whoa, Dad you look majorly tense. Whatís up?"

Simon relaxed and smiled, the sound of his sonís happy voice relaxing him more than any beer could. "Nothing. Just a long week at work." Simon then got up and headed for the kitchen. "You find us something to watch and Iíll get that popcorn."

"Sure thing Dad," Daryl replied as he sat down and began flipping through the channels.

Soon both son and father were relaxed in front of the warm glow of the television set, listening to the soothing sounds of Riggs and Murtaugh insulting each other. The Captain of Major Crimes was actually beginning to forget about his troublesome Sentinel and Guide and the past weeks adventures.

When the first commercial come on Simon reached out and grabbed his drink, only half-paying attention to the TV, letting his mind wander.

On the television, a small dog is shown rolling on the furniture and the narrator begins to speak. "Most spot-on-flea-controls contain pesticides that can rub off in your home."

As Simon began to drink his cola, an image of Jim reacting to the herbicide from his encounter with a bed of roses last month flashed in his head. He grimaced at the memory. That was an experience he never wanted to repeat.

Then the narrator continued, "But there's no pesticide residue with Sentinel."

Simonís eyes grew as wide as saucers as he spat out his soda. "What theÖ?" He just barely managed to edit his comment, remembering that Daryl was in the room.

"Dad, whatís wrong?" came Darylís concerned voice. His dad did not normally spray the living room with diet cola.

Simon waved his son quiet and listened to the narrator with all his attention.

"Only Sentinel protects dogsÖ"

Simon watched the rest of the commercial in stunned silence. With his luck this could only mean trouble. His mind created numerous scenarios of government agents, media frenzies, love struck fans, Sentinel wanna-bes, and endless meetings with the Chief.

Simonís mind continued to run wild as he raced for the phone and quickly dialed a number from memory. After the second ring he started to get worried, "Come on, pick up the phone."

Finally the phone was answered on the fourth ring with a strained, "Ellison."

"Jim, itís Simon. Youíll never guess what I just saw on television." Simon wasnít sure, but he thought he heard the sound of laughter coming from the other end of the phone.

"Hee hee hee, oh wait, let me guess." Jimís words were interspersed with chuckles and fits of laughter. "It was a commercial for, snerk, Sentinel flea control." He was barely able to get the words out before he burst out laughing again.

"Jim! JIM! Damn it, Ellison. Put Sandburg on the phone," Simon growled, it was a growl designed to make people snap to.

It seemed to work because Simon heard Jim take a deep breath and his subordinate was decidedly more calm. A small smile crept onto the captainís face knowing that he could have such an affect even over the phone.

"Um, I donít think thatís such a good idea Simon," it was still evident in Ellisonís voice that he still had a huge smile on his face and it was only due to his military training and self discipline that kept him from cracking up again. "Heís currently rolling on the floor trying to laugh."

The mirth from the other end of the phone was contagious. The small smile that had crept to Simonís face had grown and was now a grin. "Trying to laugh?"

"Yeah, hee hee hee, he ran out of air right after you called." Ellison began chuckling again. "Heís going through the motions, but no sound is coming out."

The image of Blair, on the floor, laughing but with no sound coming out was too much for Simon. A chuckle escaped his lips.

"Dad?"

Simon turned at the sound of his sonís concerned voice. "Dad, is something wrong?"

Seeing his son standing there with a dishtowel in his hand and a seriously concerned look on his face normally would have cause the captain alarm. However, when said son is concerned about the phone call that involves a Sentinel who canít string a whole sentence together without laughing and a Guide who currently is laughing so hard he canít breath, the result is something different entirely.

Simon suddenly burst into riotous laughter. Jim and Blair obviously werenít concerned so he wasnít going to worry either.

"Hee hee hee, Simon? You think Blair and I should get a dog so we could get Sentinel for him?" Once again the Sentinel was having difficulty completing his words without laughing.

Simon doubled over laughing as a thought came to mind. "Wait, I have a better idea. How about we just get the K-9 units to use it?"

Daryl watched in astonishment as his father dissolved into laughing fit. After a few moments he just shook his head and finished cleaning the soda mess, glad that his father was able to relax after his hard day at work.

The End


Note: The thing with the cows is a reference to Anna Rennie-Clarkís story, Captain Get Your Kevlar (if she ever gets it done J )


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