DISCLAIMER: The Sentinel and its characters are the property of Paramount Television and Pet Fly Productions. No money has been or will be made from this work of fiction. This story belongs to the author. Permission is given to archive.

RATING: G

This is a tribute to our international friends and neighbors following September 11, 2001. Initially posted to the SentinelAngst List, then included in the award-winning tribute zine "Mourning."

Feedback is always welcome.

Family In Our Hearts

by

Alberte


Family In Our Hearts   Jim tiredly tossed his keys toward the basket by the door
Jim tiredly tossed his keys toward the basket by the door, not caring whether they landed in it or not, and closed the loft door behind him.  His leather jacket dropped onto its usual hook, and his feet moved by their own accord into the kitchen.  He snagged the last cold beer from the refrigerator shelf, then shuffled into the living room and plopped down onto the sofa.  The TV remote was found hiding between the cushions, and he clicked the TV on.  Tired of the daily, depressing news, he opted for a Canadian station instead.  Thank goodness for cable.  He took a deep pull at the bottle.

Ever since the stunning events of September 11 last week, all of Cascade PD had been on extra shifts.  City and county emergency response plans had been reviewed and updated, and heightened security was now deemed necessary for state and federal buildings, as well as many public events.  Many groups and individuals had called CPD, asking for support and consultation in upgrading their security arrangements.  Jim had personally spent many extra hours comforting and consoling frightened friends and neighbors.  As tired as he was, he knew that he would willingly be back at it after a good night's sleep.  It was little enough, compared to the efforts of police and firefighters in New York City.

Retrieving the remote from where he had dropped it on the seat cushion beside him, he turned up the volume on the TV.  As much as he would hate to admit it, the loft was too quiet without his energetic roommate there.  Blair had planned to spend a weekend with friends in Vancouver, British Columbia for months, and had only followed through with his plans after much encouragement from Jim.  At least it was a drivable distance and he didn't have to fly, Jim mused, unable to resist nervous thoughts about taking to the air even though he knew that security had been greatly heightened at the airports.

Barely paying attention to the TV screen, he suddenly sat up, thinking that he'd caught a glimpse of a recognizable figure in the background of the scene being shown on the Vancouver TV station.  Uniformed police officers and firefighters were shown standing on street corners, holding up bins and boots, some with American flags pasted on the side.  Almost everyone who walked by slowed to dig into their purses or pockets, tossing their contributions in and accepting handshakes in return.  He began to listen in.

"...local firefighters will be at the Coquitlam Mall throughout the weekend, accepting donations for New York 9-11 relief efforts, and city police will be on downtown street corners as well.  A couple of local businesses, Sears and Eatons, will allow you to charge your contributions to those credit cards.  So far, we estimate that approximately $150,000 has been raised in the Vancouver metropolitan area, and over $250,000 in British Columbia so far..."

Even as he listened, he saw a familiar man in a Cascade PD t-shirt with a red, white and blue scarf wrapped around his head, approaching police officers on a street corner in downtown Vancouver. He handed each of them cup of coffee and a sandwich from a large cardboard box, shaking hands with each and garnering an occasional hug from them in return.

Jim leaned back against the sofa with a grin.  It did his cynical heart good to see brothers in blue, even across the border, hanging together in times of crisis.  And Blair...even "on vacation," Blair would find a way to contribute, in his own unique way.

He stood and walked over to the phone, pressing the buttons that would speed dial Blair's cell phone.  Blair's voice would be a welcome interruption to the uncomfortable quiet that surrounded him.

* * * * * * * * * *


Only Jim and Blair's involvement in this snippet is fiction.

Many thanks to our friends and neighbors in Canada and around the world, for
opening your hearts and your wallets to aid us in these dark days.  You are
truly family of the heart.


THE END

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