A Taxing Situation

by Merry Amelie

Title: A Taxing Situation
Author: Merry Amelie
Archive: MA only
Category: Alternate Reality, Qui/Obi, Romance, Series
Rating: PG
Summary: Monty and our lads share the tax blues.

Series: Academic Arcadia -- # 197
A chronological list of the series with the URLs can be found under the header 'Academic Arcadia' at the Master Apprentice ML.

My MA story page is here.

Feedback: Is treasured at MerryAmelie@aol.com.
Disclaimer: Mr. Lucas owns everything Star Wars. I'm not making any money.

For
My beta team: Nerowill, Emila-Wan, and Carol
Mali Wane for posting
My former betas: Alex, Ula, and Padawan Sue

Here's a recommendation of an ideal Qui/Obi story for this time of year: Midnight Fantasy by Master Elayna

For Stacey and Master Elayna

"Married in New York and Massachusetts...strangers elsewhere."

Monty spoke in the same forceful way Ian had last heard when his brother had defended him against a playground bully a couple of decades ago. As Monty paced back and forth in the den at Padua, it seemed more like a lion's den, Ian thought. Monty's snarl was certainly reminiscent of a caged lion, which was not that far removed from a protective older brother. Ian almost snorted out loud at this observation.

He and Quinn heard the dangerous inflection in Monty's voice, and it made them feel better right away. Monty had just completed their taxes and was furious with the results.

He held in his hand a print-out that resembled an old-fashioned ledger sheet -- even down to the green eye-ease paper -- where all of the numbers had been painstakingly crunched. It fluttered in the breeze generated by both Monty's stalking to and fro and the air-conditioning vent on the ceiling. His fierce expression made the worksheet seem like a flag of protest.

It was April 14th, and Monty was as overworked as only a C.P.A. at the tail end of tax season could be. The circles underneath his eyes had become concentric. He was demoralized as well as bone-tired, having calculated that Quinn and Ian had lost several thousand dollars in the last year alone, since their marriage was not recognized by the federal government. As both their accountant and brother-in-law, this "gay tax" infuriated him, especially when he considered all of their charitable donations. How much more could they possibly give, only to be slapped in the face on the federal level, year after year?

The professors tended to shrug this inequity off with weary acceptance of an untenable situation, but it exasperated Monty, who had done his share of newlyweds' taxes -- including his own, back in 1999 -- and realized that couples married for five minutes had it better than his nearest and dearest.

All three of them were in the den on Sunday afternoon -- Monty finally sitting down on his father's easy chair, with Ian and Quinn sprawled over the couch. Monty had gone over the fine details and had summed it all up with his pithy remark.

Quinn was philosophical. "Equality is just a matter of time. It will happen, Monty."

Monty nodded, trying to rein in his anger. "I think you're right, Quinn. It's so frustrating to have to wait for it, though. But the momentum is with us."

Ian winked at them both; he wanted to jolly his brother out of his funk. "Not to mention the Force, Monty," he said in a droll tone.

Quinn winked back at him. "Exactly right, m'laddie." He smiled at his husband. "Just look at how far we've come already. When we met, marriage equality did not exist in the United States yet. When we got married in Massachusetts, we'd only won the right to marry there less than two years earlier. And when we renewed our vows in New York, equality had been in place for only a month."

Ian chimed in, with his best Bob Dylan impression. "The times they are a-changin'," he sang in his mellow tenor voice. "The landscape is already completely different after just a decade. And the support for equal rights has accelerated, especially since President Obama endorsed equality last year."

"He won re-election *after* supporting it!" Quinn marveled. He still had a hard time believing that marriage equality had helped, not hurt, in a presidential election. After all, he had become accustomed to state marriage amendments being used as a winning weapon, another trend which had been reversed in 2012.

Monty smiled, catching their enthusiasm. "Look at the way all of those Senators have just come out for it."

Ian said, "Yeah, more than half of them now."

"Progress on every front," said Quinn.

All three of them beamed at that statement.

Monty started to unwind now; he took his brother-in-law's advice to heart about 'living in the Moment' and put his legs up on the hassock at the foot of his chair. He knew he had a lot to be grateful for, despite his empathy with Quinn and Ian's tax plight. He had also finished the tax returns of his parents, Ginny and John, and his own little family. Now he could relax for a couple of days, at least until his corporate clients needed his expertise once more.

Monty smiled at the thought of having a bit of free time again. Even his engagement to Kathy had been determined by tax season; they had gotten engaged on April 15th of 1999, celebrating his relative freedom from his taxing workload.

Jo came into the den with watermelon lemonade and her homemade ginger-vanilla cookies on a tray. She put it down on the coffee table, careful to keep it far away from Monty's ledger-sheet print-outs. "Here you go, boys. All your hard work deserves some refreshments, Monty." She ruffled her older son's hair, darker red than Ian's and less spiky.

She sat down on the remaining sofa cushion by Ian's side and ruffled his hair for good measure. Quinn chuckled; her gesture was one he frequently did himself, and he certainly enjoyed seeing it from a different point of view. Ian was happy for another reason; he'd had to move over to make room for his mother, so that now his thigh was pressing into Quinn's leg in a delicious way, which the cookies could never rival, even Jo's secret recipe.

Though they still looked the picture of innocence, Monty shot them a knowing smile. Jo, however, seemed oblivious, her mind on their W-2s.

"So what's the damage this time, fellas?" Jo asked. She was all too aware of the excessive taxes on her boys and felt the injustice just as viscerally as Monty did.

"A few thousand dollars, Mom," Ian answered without rancor.

All three men could hear her indrawn breath in the quiet room.

"Oh, my goodness!" she said. "Somehow, I just never get used to this. You poor kids!" She patted Ian's arm.

"Thanks, Mom," said Ian warmly, grabbing a cookie. "We were just talking about the same thing." He gave her a peck on the cheek. "We're so lucky to have an understanding family."

After sipping his lemonade, Quinn said, "It really makes a difference, Jo. As more families find out about the problems gay couples go through, the word is getting out and we have more allies."

Jo opened her mouth to answer but was interrupted by the best sound a grandma could imagine -- Lelia's laughter. She and her boys could hear it all the way from the living room, and that let them know the little girl had started watching the second "Night at the Museum" movie -- a DVD her uncles had given her, knowing she had a crush on Ben Stiller. This was a good reminder to the grown-ups of less taxing pursuits. They all got up, ready to explore the Smithsonian with her, Kathy, and Keith.

Ian and Quinn hung back a little, just enough to steal a hug and a kiss. Ian had perfected this technique at family gatherings, since he was always too impatient to wait until they got home, or, at the very least, had real privacy. Although they'd felt comfortable enough for years to kiss in front of their family, they still preferred the intimacy of being alone.

Jo, being the discreet mother that she was, resisted the impulse to turn back and wink at her boys.

Oblivious to his mother's impulse, Ian kissed Quinn soundly, tasting the delectable flavors of their snack, along with his herven's own spice. He said, "It feels good to see Monty getting so worked up about our taxes." He grinned into the Skyhawk on Quinn's t-shirt. "Guess he'll always be my big brother."

Quinn nodded into soft copper strands, already gilded by their springtime strolls along the bike path. "You're lucky to have him." He felt a passing shadow of regret at not having siblings of his own, although Monty had treated him just like another brother for years now. "You really won the brother lottery, laddie mine."

Since their telepathy was all but Force-enhanced, Ian sensed the complexity of Quinn's emotions and hugged him closer. "Not to mention the husband sweepstakes, ma guid-man." Ian stood on his toes and gave Quinn a kiss that would do any wedding proud.

Ian's hip bumped the tax worksheet off the table, so it meandered down to the carpet, its legalese forgotten in the tenderness of the Moment.