"Pleeeeeeease, Ezra."
"No, Buck."
"Oh, come on. I got all the forms and receipts and everything."
Ezra sighed. "And you've waited till the very last minute to do
this."
"PLEEEEEASE?" Buck looked at him hopefully.
"And don't try that puppy dog look on me. I'm not one of your lady
friends--thank goodness," he added under his breath.
Buck waited.
"Oh, all right! All right!"
Ezra took off his jacket and sat back down at his desk. "But you'll
pay me the same as you would H&R Block, you understand? By the hour. In
cash."
Buck nodded. "Can we get started now?"
Ezra sighed. "Fine. Might as well order dinner. And from a
restaurant." Buck opened his mouth to reply, but Ezra cut him off.
"McDonald's is NOT a restaurant. Do you want me to do this or not?"
Buck's mouth snapped shut. He just nodded and opened the drawer of his
desk. "Here y'are. Here's the forms." Buck put them on Ezra's desk.
"And here's the receipts."
"A SHOE BOX?" Ezra's nose wrinkled with distaste. "What
shoes were in these last? Not new ones, am I right?"
Buck shrugged. "It's all there. I've saved everything."
Ezra peered into the box and pulled out a crumpled paper between two
fingers. "What's this? A Butterfinger wrapper? What did you do, run out
of toilet paper?"
"That's a receipt."
"Ah, yes, now I see. I missed the crayon." Ezra paused, looking
through the odd scraps of paper, food wrappers, and cocktail napkins. He
studied one of the scraps of paper. "What's this? Dependents? Five of
them?" He looked at Buck, his mouth open in disbelief. "Where do you
come up with five dependents?"
"Melissa," Buck replied simply. "There's Susan, Carla,
Sarah, Victoria..."
"Buck, I don't care how much cat food you buy, you cannot claim her
pets as your dependents!"
"Theyr'e big cats! You should see how they eat--"
"--I don't care if they're Bengal tigers and you're Siegfried--"
"I took 'em to the vet, too--"
"--NO!"
Ezra sighed and loosened his shirt collar. Why on earth was he doing this?
Probably to keep Buck out of jail, no doubt, for which the rest of the team
would be appreciative at least. So would he, because no doubt he'd have to
handle all of Buck's paperwork during his incarceration.
"Okay, order from that Sezchuan place, LiPong's, while I work on
this..."
The evening dragged on.
"How's it comin', Ezra?"
"Fine, Buck. Is it your plan to ask me that every 15 minutes?"
"Just checkin'."
Ezra had long since removed his tie and now his shirt sleeves were rolled
up. He leaned back in his chair and absently put his pencil behind his ear. He
tentatively plucked a stained cocktail napkin out of the box. "Would you
mind translating this one for me? I'm not handling these any more than I have
to."
Buck took it and squinted at it carefully. "Business dinner. I think.
No, one o' them seminars."
"At the Gentleman's Dollhouse? You wouldn't happen to remember which
seminar that was?"
"Aw, hell, Ezra, that was afterwards. Besides you know I don't stay
awake for those seminar things. I just go where Chris tells me."
"Indeed." Ezra idly wondered that, if that was so, why wasn't
Buck in a very 'warm' place. He had distinctly heard Chris make that little
travel suggestion on more than one occasion.
Little by little and one by one, the many scraps of paper moved from one
pile on the desk to the other pile. Ezra sighed and rubbed his eyes. How
anyone could have their finances in such disarray, he couldn't imagine. He
smiled as he thought of Maude. His mother always enjoyed doing her taxes. It
was like a big game to her, to see how many deductions she could claim. Maude
owed a debt of thanks for her big refunds to Sally Struthers and all those
little Central American kids she's sponsored--and claimed--over the years.
Ezra stretched and yawned. Buck hadn't badgered him now for at least 30
minutes. And no wonder. The ladies' man was snoring, his feet propped up on
JD's desk. Ezra looked at his watch. It was after 11:50 and he was running out
of time. He straightened up, and prepared to electronically file the return.
He sighed in relief, glad to be done with the onerous task at last, and vowing
to never do it again.
"Mr. Wilmington?"
Buck snored loudly in reply. Ezra put on his coat and nudged the ladies'
man with his foot. "Wake up!"
Buck started awake. "Huh? What? Did we make it?"
"I just filed it."
"Yeee-ha! Thanks, Ezra! Filed all of it, didja?"
"Indeed. You now owe me for filing your 2001 return. And you owe the
government, but I got every receipt accounted for on your return."
Buck stopped celebrating and gaped at him. "Wait...wait...That's it?
That's all you done?"
It was now Ezra's turn to gape. "What do you mean 'all'? I've spent
four hours on this while you slept through the whole thing!"
"But we ain't done!"
Ezra looked at him in confusion and a bit of growing impatience. "I
just told you--I filed your 2001 return. AND at 11:59 exactly, I might add, so
you just made the deadline, thanks to me."
Buck shook his head.
"Then perhaps, Buck, you should explain to me what the problem
is."
"That's 2001! Those receipts go back to 1999! We got two more to
do!"
Ezra took off his coat, and sat down with a sigh. It was going to be a VERY
long night.
The End
