Based on the prompt by tealrose: "fireman (Devore up a huge tree maybe?)"
As always, I appreciate any prompts or reviews!
"What the heck?"
Alan asked, leaning out the window of the fire truck so far that John pulled him back in. John, with the patience of a long suffering fireman, sighed.
"What, Alan? And if you tell me it's a hot blonde…"
Alan smirked, but his face quickly was obscured as he leaned out the window again.
"Seriously, dude, what is it?"
John asked, once again grasping the fireman's uniform with one hand to yank him back into the fire truck.
"There's a cat stuck up a tree!"
He pulled over.
John and Alan, who had practically hopped into central park ahead of his friend, stopped when they reached probably the only tree in New York City that a cat could get stuck in.
A very nervous, bald man paced back in forth in front of it, wringing his hands and tapping his foot nervously. When John listened closely, he noticed the foot was subconciously tapping Oh-no-oh-no-oh-no in rapid succession Morse code.
Alan grinned widely.
"Hey man, what seems to be the problem?"
The nervous little guy stopped short, staring at him, and, from the tree, a little meow came as if to ask if he really was that stupid.
The little guy- Haversham- continued to pace nervously as the two firemen tried fruitlessly to rescue the disinterested orange kitty now washing itself in the tree.
Haversham looked close to a heart attack.
John heard him mumbling; "Neal is going to kill me. Who takes a cat for a walk anyway? I don't even like cats, why did I have to take care of it while the suits are out of town?"
Haversham looked horrified for a second at his own choice of words.
"Suits and Neal, yeah. And."
And he resumed pacing.
Alan had purchased a small piece of tuna from a vendor and was using it to attempt to coax the cat down.
"Nice kitty kitty."
He told it, waving the tuna like a peace flag.
The cat yawned.
So while Alan, and even John, had splinters and scratches from the evil cat, Haversham had gone paler, talking about how he is going to be home any minute. John, a seasoned firefighter, was frustrated and had cast his jacket aside long ago in favor of movement.
A cat stuck up a tree might not have been big news in the middle-of-frigging-nowhere-Ohio, where John was from, but this was New York. City of skyscrapers and about three trees. So there were people gathered around.
Haversham's foot tapped faster and faster and John and Alan considered just cutting down the whole tree or shaking it (okay, so it was a little far-fetched- Maple was maybe not the easiest to cut).
John was close to just giving up when a new, well dressed man joined the crowd. Haversham went completely still. The man strolled casually up to him, whistling with his hands in his pockets.
"What's up Mo-"
The man cut off his statement with a glance at the crowd and grinned in greeting instead.
Haversham started quoting something John thought was Vonnegut, while the man, who Haversham had called Neal, watched in amusement.
Winding down, Haversham's foot started tapping again. He opened his mouth. Shut it. Polished his glasses. Opened his mouth again.
Neal looked up, although his friend hadn't said anything.
He said, with a smile, spotting the creature in the tree.
"Come on, then!"
He patted his shoulder. With one deft move, the cat leaped gracefully onto his shoulder, digging in claws lightly so as not to damage the suit.
"Thanks for watching him!"
Neal called as he walked away. John and Alan sat down.
Haversham sat next to them quietly.