Archive of Our Own

Ilya stares up at the tree in continued disbelief and anxiety, Anya’s soft whimpers echoing down from behind the leaves and tugging at his heartstrings. He’s been standing under the branch she’s precariously sat on for close to twenty minutes now, praying she doesn’t move too much and fall, or that the branch she’s on which looks worryingly thin won’t crack and drop her. 

They’d been on a nice walk. He’d taken today off at Sveta’s insistence, since she’d been nagging at him to take a break for weeks now but they’d finally closed on the big contract at work yesterday. To celebrate he’d taken himself & Anya out for brunch and they were walking the long way home through the park.

And then that fucking squirrel. 

Ilya was sure it was some kind of evil tormentor designed to drive both Anya and, merely by proximity, Ilya insane.

Anya had ended up in the upper boughs of the tree, and Ilya had attempted to climb up to get her himself but the lowest, thickest branch had creaked ominously under his weight and he’d not wanted to risk injuring himself on top of it all. He had just waited for a few minutes instead, hoping Anya would be able to make her own way down.

When it became obvious that hadn’t been happening, he’d given up and called the non-emergency line, and now he’s just waiting for the firefighters that the nice lady on the phone had assured him would be on their way as soon as they could. He hopes it won’t take long, hopes that Anya stays safe on her branch until they arrive.

He hears voices a few minutes later and is relieved to see two men he assumes are the firefighters; wearing black slacks and black shirts, one of them with a pale brown jacket with reflective banding around the chest and hips.

“Hello!” he calls, waves a hand and the one without the jacket lifts a hand back in greeting as they adjust their course across the grass to where he’s standing.

Ilya blinks as they get closer, the jacketless man on the left like something out of a fantasy Ilya hadn’t even known he’d had. He’s maybe just an inch or so shorter than Ilya, with broad shoulders evident even under the ill-fitting shirt. He walks with purpose, like every step is thoroughly thought out and his foot is placed exactly where he intends, and there’s something that feels like competence that just oozes out of the man, to the point that Ilya finds his mouth going dry.

“You the guy with the dog in the tree?” The other guy speaks first. He’s… sort of handsome, Ilya supposes, a little shorter and slighter than his partner, but not nearly as captivating as the fireman on the left, and- fuck those are freckles, Ilya notes as they come within speaking distance. He hopes that any quiet whimper that leaves his lips is mistaken for those coming from Anya up in the tree.

“Yes, hello,” he manages to reply, and Anya’s soft cry drags his attention back up to where she’s staring pitifully at him from her perch above. He offers a quick soothing few words in Russian, before turning back to the men who are watching him.

“I’m Shane, and this is Hayden. Can you tell us what happened, sir?” The hot fireman - Shane - asks, and his voice is soft and soothing and Ilya could listen to it all day. Fuck.

“I… we were on walk,” he gestures roughly back down the path they’d come from, “and there was ah, this fuc- this squirrel,” he flushes, “teasing Anya. My dog,” he adds, as if they couldn’t work it out from context. Fuck, but the soft brown eyes boring into his face are making his tongue go thick in his mouth, English slower to come as he tries to squash the very inappropriate thoughts running in circles through his head instead. “She is very good, usually, has excellent recall, she is very well trained. She has never even attempted to climb trees before. But this time, she managed to get up there,” he points upwards. “And cannot come down.”

“Right,” the two men step in closer and Ilya gets a whiff of something vanilla and woodsy as Shane almost brushes past Ilya, craning his neck to stare up into the tree.

“Is okay, Anya,” Ilya soothes softly as his dog whines again, shifting back and forth on the branch in a way that’s doing nothing good for his heart. “Just- stay still, good girl.”

The firemen are muttering to each other, and Ilya tries to listen in but he’s suddenly exhausted, the potential hope of them being here taking some of the weight of working out what to do off his hands.

“Okay, sir-”

“Ilya,” Ilya corrects the firefighter gently.

“Okay, Ilya,” Shane doesn’t smile at him but there’s something warm and gentle in his expression. “I assume you’ve tried to get her down?”

“Yes,” Ilya nods, and explains what he’d tried; the treats, the begging, the attempt at climbing before he realised it was a little too stupid, even for him. 

“Okay,” the beautifully freckled man nods again thoughtfully. “We’re going to go and get a ladder from the truck, okay, so we can go up and get her down? She’s friendly, right? She won’t bite one of us if we try to pick her up or anything?”

“She is very friendly, she loves humans,” Ilya promises, “Not quite as much as squirrels, though, it seems,” he adds ruefully, and his head snaps back at the quiet, amused laugh that falls from Shane’s thick lips that Ilya shouldn’t be thinking about wanting to bite, not while his canine daughter is stuck up in a fucking tree.

“Okay. Well, if you can just stay here. Keep talking to her, or whatever you need to keep her there and safe as she can be for now. The truck is about five minutes away, so we’ll be back in fifteen, maybe, once we’ve got what we need.”

“Okay,” Ilya nods, and watches the two of them walk away again, heart pounding so fast in his chest he thinks he might need emergency assistance soon enough.

“Christ, it’s really up there, eh?” Hayden says as they return, carrying a ladder between them and trying to work out the best place to put it.

“I did not know she could climb so well,” Ilya says, somewhat proudly. The ridiculousness of the whole situation is starting to settle in, the previously overwhelming anxiety fading to leave him feeling almost a little giddy.

“I think maybe we shouldn’t encourage her to be climbing trees,” Shane says a little dryly, and Ilya can’t help but laugh.

“She will be staying on her lead until I trust she will not run after more squirrels,” he promises, and gets an approving nod in return that lights up his chest.

The ladder is set up against the main trunk of the tree, carefully adjusted to avoid any of the larger branches. Anya yips as the branches shake and Ilya blinks as a warm hand covers his, suddenly gripping the sleeve of Shane’s jacket.

“It’ll be okay,” Shane reassures him softly, and Ilya forces his fingers to unclench. “We don’t actually get called out much to do tree rescues anymore, but I’ve done a couple of cat rescues, so I know what I’m doing.”

Ilya nods, watches as Hayden takes a step or two up the ladder, confirming it’s stable.

“Right,” Shane murmurs gently. “Have you got any treats or anything? Anything that’ll keep her calm or less likely to wiggle out of my arms.”

Ilya digs in his side bag and holds out a couple of Anya’s favourite sausage treats. Shane’s fingers brush his as he takes them and the spark of electricity almost shocks Ilya into breathlessness. 

“Talk to her,” Shane encourages, as he turns and starts to climb the ladder, Hayden standing at the bottom as if to spot him.

Ilya does as asked, and keeps up a soft stream of praise and reassurance up towards Anya as Shane climbs. Ilya can’t quite decide where to look, either at his dog or the round butt that's beautifully outlined as Shane's slacks tighten around the muscle with each rung of the ladder upwards.

Anya’s tail starts wagging as Shane gets three-quarters of the way up the ladder and almost within touching distance. Ilya can hear as Shane murmurs a soft greeting to her, wishes that voice could whisper sweet nothings into his ears, but his heart in his throat as he sees Anya take a single step towards the sausage in Shane’s outstretched hand.

Her paw slips on the branch and a cry wrenches free of Ilya’s throat but before he can panic his dog is safely scooped up in Shane’s arms and cradled carefully against his chest.

“Fuck,” Ilya whispers as Shane makes his way back down the ladder one-handed, slower than he’d gone up but clearly taking extra care with Anya. Ilya’s heart beats triple-time as they come within touching distance but he forces himself to wait until both of Shane’s feet are firmly on solid ground. 

As soon as that happens though he’s stepping close, practically chest-to-chest with Shane with only Anya separating them. She’s wiggling intensely in his arms as Ilya cups her face, scratches her ears and reassures himself that she’s back safe at ground level, murmurs soft reassurances and gentle admonishments to her.

“Thank you,” he murmurs, lifts his eyes to meet soft brown ones, watching him with something like affection.

“You’re welcome,” Shane replies softly, and Ilya’s heart thumps heavily in his chest.

“Shane, are we done here?” Hayden asks. “Jackie’s probably waiting with the kids.”

“Have you got her?” Shane asks softly, as Anya’s weight settles a little heavier on Ilya’s chest. He turns his hands to adjust his grip on her better, brushes Shane’s again and feels those sparks until Shane’s withdrawing and Ilya’s left with Anya panting heavily into his chin, watching the firefighters.

“Thank you,” Ilya repeats, glancing back at Hayden as well who gives him a short nod in return.

“I’ll be right there, Hayd,” Shane says, and Hayden huffs but picks up the ladder he’d taken down and heads down the path.

“Well,” Shane says, once the other man is out of earshot. “I’m very glad we could help you both today. But no more squirrel chases, please. I meant what I said, we’re pretty under-resourced, so coming out on pet rescues isn’t something we’re able to do much anymore. Hayden and I are coming off shift,” he adds, as Ilya frowns, “so we had time today, but it won’t be a common occurrence.”

“I promise,” Ilya replies, “She’ll be on her lead when there may be squirrels about.”

“Okay.”

Shane hesitates and it gives Ilya the courage to ask.

“Can I, ah, buy you dinner? To thank you for all your help?”

“Oh. I, uh- we’re not technically allowed to accept gifts,” Shane replies, the corner of his mouth pulling into a little frown.

“Well, if it was not a gift?” Ilya suggests, “More… a date?”

Shane blinks at him, but the tightness of his lips relaxes until they’re pulling into a smile.

“Yeah, yes. Okay.”

“Okay? Okay,” Ilya knows his grin is a little too wide as relief floods through him. Fuck, but he’s been through the emotional wringer in the last hour. From sheer terror to this flood of joy, he feels like he needs a fucking nap.

They exchange numbers quickly, and Ilya’s so fucking charmed as Shane leaves them with a gentle stroke of Anya’s head and a gentle admonishment to ‘be good’, though the glance he offers Ilya as he heads away makes Ilya think that the words might have been for the two of them.

He puts Anya back on her lead and carefully lowers her to the ground, where she immediately tries to head after Shane. 

“No, Anya,” Ilya sighs. “But do not worry,” he promises as he begins the walk to their home, his phone with Shane's number buring a hole in his pocket, “we will get to see Mr. Fireman again soon.”