TITLE: Calculating a Life
AUTHOR: losingntrnslatn (LosingInTranslation,
Jennifer)
DISCLAIMER: Don’t own anything associated with the show… I just like
playing with the characters in it from time to time. Dance Monkeys! Dance!
RATING: T - Teen (some mild language)
SPOILERS: Through US Aired Episodes
PAIRINGS: GSR
WORD COUNT: 1783
SUMMARY: A little piece of GSR Hope for the future.
A/N: I’m actually starting to like these Baby Bunnies. Another quick one
that I started as a result of a comment made on another story by a gratefully
faithful reader. Thanks for the Plot Bunny!
REVIEWS: Reviews are the way I know if people are enjoying the work or
not. So, if you leave one, THANKS! And if not, I hope you found at least a
little something to brighten your day, and thanks for taking the time to read.
“Ahhhhhhhhh!”
The noises had been coming from the office at increasing intervals all morning.
There were general exclamations of frustration, a great deal of swearing, and
many boisterous grunts and groans of varying degrees. He decided very early on
to simply leave well enough alone and continue with his own work, well out of
range for any potentially flying objects. Of course, that decision had come
after nearly having his face lasered off with a
profoundly dirty look following one innocent suggestion.
When his call for lunch went unanswered, he took the plate and a glass of juice
to set on the desk beside her. At first she seemed uninterested, but then
another string of epithets were unleashed and she grabbed for the sandwich
without once looking over. It was a seamless interaction between them, the one
automatically caring for the other, and it was almost as though she expected
the sandwich to materialize at her side. He smiled, kissed the top of her head
as she ripped into the sandwich, and quickly departed from the room.
As he settled onto the sofa to read through a casefile,
Gil found himself in a state of reflection. He was comfortable; in his work, in
his home, in his life, and it was not always that way. Exactly a year ago he
had sat on the same sofa, sleeping there day after day, not setting foot in the
bedroom other than to change his clothes, frightened that his life would never
be the same again, and feeling horribly lonely and isolated. Exactly one year
before, he was faced with the possibility of spending his life alone, with no
one in the other room swearing and gnashing her teeth in frustration.
“Bastards! Lousy stinking bastards!”
The dog came skittering away from the office door, seeking out the safety to be
found at his feet. He reached down and patted him on the head to comfort the
confused animal. “It’s okay, boy. She’s not mad at us.”
The casefile was forgotten as he remembered Sara’s
hasty departure, and the long months without her by his side. It was hard. It
was hard on him, not knowing what the future held for them, but he knew it was
worse for her, struggling to come to terms with the past, with herself. He knew
all about those struggles, and while he longed to have her with him, he
understood her need to fix things on her own. But the happiest day of his life
came when he found her sitting on the doorstep one morning, waiting for him to
come home.
“Damnit!” The sound of
papers smacking into the wall always seemed to accompany the cursing. He
supposed it was better than the dishes.
He gathered up the leash and decided to go for a longer walk in order to save
the dog from hearing Sara’s shouts and groans. Hank always hated seeing her
upset.
They walked quickly to the little park where all of his canine playmates would
be waiting. As he watched Hank playing chase the tail with the Australian
Shepherds from around the block, Gil wondered what his life would have been
like if Sara had not been able to return home. He knew that afternoons in the
park would have never happened. Finally leaving the lab might not have ever
occurred to him. He had always considered such a move as a sign of failure,
that he had let it get the best of him. And while it was the source of a great
deal of past pride, he knew that his time there had passed. But more
importantly, he knew that her time there was over.
Where Sara had once relished in the work, in the greater meaning of it, she
seemed to have lost that optimism in the process along the way. He had seen it
in her eyes long before that horrible night, even before the abduction, but it
frightened him to take away the one thing that brought them together. A
seriously bad case of the evil that you know kept him rooted there. But when
Sara returned, and she seemed to have found something else to hold onto, he was
surprised to find that their bond remained. They talked about his cases again,
they shared theories on different techniques, and he was learning more about
physics than he ever dreamed possible as she got back into her studies.
The biggest surprise came to him when Sara was offered a fellowship in
Returning from his evening walk with the dog, Gil found that the rest of the
house was dark, with only the light from the office spilling out into the
hallway. She had yet to leave the office and it was nearly dinner time. He went
to check on the food in the oven before girding himself up for a fight.
When the forms first arrived, he was confused to see the large packet from the
IRS. It was addressed to Sara, so he had to wait until she returned home to
discover the reason behind it. Her explanation did not help to clear up his
confusion and his concern grew stronger. It seemed that Sara had always done
her own taxes, and she was convinced that this year should not be any
different. No amount of discussion was going to deter her from that conclusion.
He offered to call the accountant more times than he could count, but she was
adamant that it would be just fine. To avoid a senseless argument, he
reluctantly acquiesced.
“That doesn’t make any GODDAMN SENSE!!!”
Gil turned down the oven to warm and took a deep breath. The dog looked up at
him with a worrisome expression and he tried to smile it off. “Don’t worry
about me, Hank. But if I don’t make it back alive, the good dog biscuits are
behind the oatmeal.”
Solemnly walking those few yards to the office door, he prepared to throw
himself on his sword. When his eyes fell on her, he wanted to laugh, but he
knew it would only serve to make her mad at him.
He tried to keep his voice calm and his tone smooth, “Sara?”
“Why does this have to be so difficult?” Her hair was going in about ten
directions, there were papers strewn all over the place, her skin was flushed
and splotchy with the incredible frustration that had been building all day. “I
mean really, do we honestly need eighty damn pages to tell me that I can’t get
squat for all the money I’m pouring out to finish my degree?”
She shuffled through the haphazard stack to her left and retrieved the item in
question. “I have to enter any scholarship or fellowship income for the tax
year on line one. Then I have to enter the amount from line one that was given
as the result of teaching, research, or any other services, and subtract two
from one. What’s the friggin’ point?! That’s what a
graduate degree is for Pete’s Sake!”
He was about to attempt a logical resolution, but she continued to rant. “But
then you have to ask if it’s really a scholarship, or is it a tuition
reduction, because then there’s a whole other set of rules. After all, a
tuition reduction you receive for graduate education is qualified, and
therefore tax free, but only if you meet both of the following requirements;
‘It is provided by an eligible educational institution, and you are a graduate
student who performs teaching or research activities for the educational
institution.’ So, is it tax free, or is it taxable?! Make up my mind, damnit!”
Opening his mouth to speak, she shouted again, “Oh! And what’s worse? They have
these HOPE and Lifetime Learning credits now, which I won’t qualify for because
of the income scale, and that’s fine. But then I have to figure out, if it
falls under the scholarship rules or the tuition reduction ones, do I still get
to claim my tuition as a deduction? And where do I claim it as a deduction? A personal one, or a business deduction?!” She threw the
papers down and screamed again. “AAAAAHHHHH!!!”
With her shoulders slumped from the exertion, he moved closer had softly worked
his fingers into the overstressed muscles he found there. “Are you done?” The
decidedly male side of his brain wanted to say, “told you so,” but the rest of
him wanted to sleep in the bed tonight.
Her head lolled forward as he kneaded the high tension wires present in her
shoulders. “I just don’t remember this being so hard before.”
“Well, they’ve had to crack down on people abusing the system, and
unfortunately, that means the students doing it right end of up suffering for
it.” Seeing how overwrought she was with the process, he wanted to simply ask
again to let his accountant do the taxes, but he promised to let her do it.
With all of the changes in their lives, he knew the taxes would be almost
impossible for anyone other than a professional to decipher.
“This is a nightmare.” Sara reached up to stroke his left hand, and immediately
touched the solid band on his third finger, as though it were her touchstone.
“And I haven’t even gotten to the joint filing instructions yet. Let alone the
moving expenses, or the business deductions and self-employment taxes for your
consulting work…” She looked back to her husband and said, “I don’t want to
give in to this, but feel like I’m drowning in red tape.”
Gil leaned down to kiss her upturned forehead and smiled. He knew of only one
thing that would allow her an out, and get her out of this funk.
Crouching down to her level, he slipped his hands around, with the right
sliding to the opposite shoulder as the left came to softly rest on her belly.
“Just think of how bad it will be next year…with a dependent.”
A/N2: Thank you cabooklover for the Plot
Bunny!