John looked from the tree to the short, slightly pudgy (but in a cute way) man that had his arms defensively crossed and was glaring at him like he was an idiot. And yeah, John tended to have the surfer boy 'I'm pretty and charming and not too bright' aura, but he was dressed in the yellow rubber that indicated he was a fireman. From most people, that at least got a look of respect.
"What, are you deaf? Great, the city sends one of its disabled morons to help me." The man let out a huff, then started waving his hands, his fingers folding in patterns far too quickly for John to follow. After a minute, he realized it was sign language, and the guy was speaking as well. "I said I need you to get Delek out of the tree and I need you to do it fast because the fate of the world of physics rests on my shoulders and I don't have time to deal with more incompetent city workers!"
"I heard you the first time, Mr. McKay." John smirked as the man continued to glare, turning just a little red in the face. "I just don't get why you can't get on a stepladder and reach up a foot to get your cat."
"I don't have to explain myself to you! I pay your god damned salary, so when I call I expect an immediate response with no judgments! God, do you respond to fires that way? No wonder the department has such a high fatality rate!"
The smirk vanished at that. That hurt, especially since John had lost two of his friends to the fire as well as five civilians. He nearly hauled off and punched the bastard, because really, where the fuck did he get off saying things like that? McKay seemed to realize what he said though, and the arrogance and annoyance faded somewhat.
"I'm sorry, that was…look, I'm very busy and I really don't have time for this and I just want Dalek back and to get back to work and I shouldn't have said that. So…could you?" McKay waved to the tree somewhat feebly.
It wasn't much by way of an apology, but while John could be vindictive, he wasn't about to ignore his job. So, he rolled his eyes, grabbed a stepstool off the truck, and put it by the tree. "So is it a height thing?"
"Not really, though I don't like heights much, either. I never get an apartment above the third floor, and even that's too high." John reached for the cat, but it moved back from his arms. There was a pause behind him, then: "Aren't they worried about your hair? I mean, just looking at it, I'm afraid it'll combust in the sun with the amount of spray you must use. Doesn't the station worry it'll explode if you run into a burning building?"
John froze, grinding his teeth for a minute. It seemed that just about everyone had an opinion on his hair. Ford always joked about it getting singed, Carson kept poking it to see if it was alive, and now this McKay… "I don't use hair spray."
"What, you mean it's like that naturally? I've seen Delek cough up better groomed hairballs. Have you considered a weed whacker?"
"You want me to get this thing outta the tree or not?!" That shut the smug asshole up. He had a stretch a little more, but he finally got his hands around the tabby's midsection. Unfortunately, his hands were ungloved, and the after a short battle with trying to keep a hold on the branch, Delek dug his claws into John's hands. "Owowowow! Stupid little…get over here, McKay!" John stepped off the stool and glared at the man, whose eyes were wide and was backing away. "Now! Get this little shit off me!"
"What, are you nuts?! Didn't you hear me say it's not a height thing? Delek just spent the last three hours in a LEMON TREE!"
"McKay, he's trying to tear my hands to shreds. Come over here and get him before I throw him at you." Though it was said in a quiet, calming voice, the fact that it was said through his clenched teeth clearly indicated he was pissed and serious. Unfortunately, it didn't seem to have an effect on McKay.
"Hello, deathly allergic to citrus. Unless you want a REAL 911 emergency!"
"Get ready to catch!"
"Oh very funny! Look, I've got a tub all set up in the basement--because there's no way he's getting back in without decontamination first--and I just need you to wash him and dry him and THEN I'll take him when he's not coated with poison!"
"Fuck that! Take the cat or I'm putting him right back where he was!" John didn't hear McKay's response, because right after saying that in his 'don't fuck with me' voice, Delek twisted and turned and got out of John's hands, only to scramble up and latch onto his shoulder, claws digging in deep because, of course, McKay had never gotten the damned thing declawed. He let out a howl, then grabbed the cat again.
Delek bit his fingers in response.
"MCKAY!" John glared at the man, panting heavily and trying not to call Ford over to take an ax to either the feline or its owner. "Get. It. Off. NOW!"
"I told you! Poison!" McKay hesitated. "Also, I think he likes you."
"I don't give a flying-"
"Look. Basement. He likes water." McKay held up his hands. "I know, most don't but he does. Once he sees the bath, he'll hop right in."
John was definitely going to have to see the dentist about the way he continued to rub his teeth together, but he stormed off towards the basement door McKay had indicated, the guy scooting away and giving him a wide berth. Once down there, it turned out McKay was right. Delek took one look at the water, climbed up to perch on John, then hopped into the bath.
Twenty minutes later he had a clean cat purring in his arms and McKay squeezing his hands together, waiting for him at the top of the stairs. Once there, John held the still content cat out, and McKay took it, where it curled up once more and resumed its happy noise making. McKay looked down, as if waiting for some sort of allergic reaction--which, John realized, he probably was--before looking back up, deep blue eyes torn between wary and grateful.
"Anything else you need?"
"No, no. I'm good. Um," McKay held his pet tighter, "look, you wanna go to dinner? I'll buy you whatever you want, sort of as an…" McKay's hand waved a bit at John's soaked shirt.
John grimaced, because yeah, McKay was kinda attractive, if you liked obnoxious arrogant loudmouths who had little regard for other people. "I'd rather not."
"Oh…" McKay seemed to deflate at that a bit. "You want money?"
John blinked. "What?"
"Well, I know Delek isn't exactly at his best when afraid, and you did bathe him instead of getting that grinning moron to do it." John knew the guy was talking about Ford, who he could see was flirting with Carson at the moment. If he wasn't so worried about fire safety he'd just lock those two in a room, but there'd be time to plot later. Right now he had to deal with McKay.
"Look, I don't want money. Just pay your taxes and don't start fires, and try to keep your cat outta trees." Because John really didn't want to go through that whole ordeal again.
"Right, right. Okay. Oh, um, he's had all his shots, so you should be good." McKay suddenly straightened up and snapped his fingers. "Fireman's ball. I always tell the girl to fuck off. This year I'll buy a ticket. No five, ten. Ten tickets. How's that?"
A grin was slowly spreading across John's face, though he was dearly fighting it. "And you have nine dates you can take with you?"
"What? Of course not. I can't just date any moron who comes onto me. Though there is this one blond physicist…" McKay seemed to go off into lala land for a minute, then jumped right back into the moment. "But you'll be there. So I'll…we'll do something." McKay sounded more uncertain about that, but he nodded decisively anyways. "Right. Well…see you then. I've got work to do. Nobel prizes to win."
"Right." John drawled out the word, and McKay stared at him for a minute, before turning and going up the steps to the apartment building, talking to his cat none-too-quietly about going into poison trees and interrupting his work and annoying cute firefighters.
John really hoped that last bit was a joke, because from the size of the grin on Ford and Carson's face, he wouldn't be hearing the end of this little rescue operation for a long, long time. That was alright. McKay was somewhat interesting, beneath the insulting and abrasive exterior. Like an onion, many layers and John had yet to find what he was really like.
And for some reason he was looking forward to peeling some of those layers away at the annual ball. Or at the very least, not being bored out of his skull…again.