A/N: Sorry I haven't updated immediately. Stupid high school and homework were getting in the way, so there wasn't much time in-between. ...In this chapter, Moe and Smithers babysit Maggie together and total cuteness ensues.
(Third-Person P.O.V.)
Over the next week or so, Moe and Smithers had gotten more familiar and friendlier with each other. It was like they had an "it" friendship around Springfield similar to Lenny and Carl's: one was almost never seen without the other. Even Mr. Burns, the head boss of the nuclear power plant (and one who was usually unacquainted with the news of the world), found this to be true.
"Hmm...how strange," he thought out loud, "The Smithers family has always been attracted to the Burns family. Even Waylon Sr. showed utmost affection at times. I guess Smithers Jr. was never into me. Very strange, indeed." If he had any idea of what Smithers Jr. had thought of him over the course of his life, he would've been befuddled beyond belief or he would've ignored and denied it. After all, Charles Montgomery Burns was more unpredictable than one would think, regardless of how shallow he seemed at times.
The whole town was equally surprised to hear that the title of "Burns and Smithers" had receded all of a sudden and converted to "Moe and Smithers". Even Homer Simpson, who didn't seem to have a clue about a thing most of the time, was confused about this new epidemic.
"I called up Moe and Smithers. They agreed to babysit Maggie while we're out. Isn't that nice of them?" Marge asked her husband.
"Yeah, sure. Real great of – wait, what?! 'Moe and Smithers'?! What happened to Burns?!" Homer blurted, nearly choking in surprise on his doughnut.
"Well, I think it's sweet. Poor Smithers could never seem to catch a break when he worked for Mr. Burns. And now that he's with Moe, I hope they have a very happy future together," Marge sighed contently.
"B-But nobody likes Moe!" Homer protested. This was all mind-boggling for him.
"Homer! That's not very nice! Now, what do you say?!" Marge scolded.
"Sorry, Marge," Homer replied meekly, as if he were an orphan from Annie apologizing to Mrs. Hannigan. After a short while, the doorbell rang. Marge answered it and found Moe and Smithers standing on the front doorstep.
"Hello, guys! Come on in!" she said cheerfully. They walked inside and took off their jackets at the same time. Homer was weirded out by their consistent choreography. "Thanks again for offering to babysit Maggie," said Marge.
"Oh, that's no problem, Midge. Where is the precious little darling?" asked Moe. Smithers stood quietly at his side, smiling.
"She's sleeping right now, but she'll be awake in time for dinner. Her sleeping schedule is very pronounced," Marge answered, chuckling.
"Can we go now?!" Homer demanded boredly, like the perpetual three-year-old he was.
"Homer!" his wife scolded curtly, before finishing what she had to say. "Feel free to use whatever's in the kitchen to make yourselves some dinner. If you need anything, my cell phone number is on the fridge. Bye, boys! Take care of yourselves!"
"We will," the two men promised, waving good-bye to Mr. and Mrs. Simpson as they left. Once they were out of sight, Moe turned to Smithers and said mischieviously,
"I wonder where they keep the beer." Smithers rolled his eyes.
"Very funny. Not on my watch is that happening," he scoffed. Moe laughed.
"You're a real buzz-kill, you know that?"
"But you wuv meeee~!" Smithers sang jovially. Moe snorted at that.
"Ugh. Barf," he replied. The two men laughed at their silly conversation before zoning out and looking at each other in content silence. Most people did not like "awkward" silences or silence in general, but to Moe and Smithers, the type of silence they shared was comfortable and intimate, if you will. Sometimes, they zoned out for so long that they forgot all existence around them.
"Hi," Smithers said at long last, coming back to the real world but still smiling.
"Hello," Moe replied just as jocundly, joining his friend in reality once again. They always ended their silences by greeting each other, which most found to be odd. Then again, others found their silences to be odd as well.
"Wahhhhh!" Maggie cried from upstairs.
"Well, that was fast," Moe commented. The two men ran upstairs into her room and picked her up out of the crib. Moe held her and talked to her as Smithers watched in admiration. Once they got downstairs again, they decided to make some dinner for themselves. But first, they had to feed Maggie.
"Okay, Maggie. What would you like from the menu tonight?" Smithers asked playfully. Maggie giggled and pointed at a jar of baby food nearby.
"Ah, an excellent choice, madame," Moe spoke up. He retrieved the jar and brought it to the high chair where Maggie currently resided. When he got to her, he scooped up some of the mush with a plastic spoon and brought it spiralling towards her mouth. "Uh... here comes the beer bottle! Chug, chug!"
"Moe!" Smithers giggled, only half-lecturing him.
"What?" Moe retaliated just as playfully. He got Maggie to eat every last drop before they could feed themselves. Smithers put on a frilly pink apron that just-so-happened to be nearby and got out the materials needed to make the perfect meal. He was a perfectionist when it came to food. Moe walked over to Smithers and pretended to give him a spank.
"Make me a sammich, woman," he joked in a grumbly, masculine voice. Smithers gaped in mock-hurt and placed a hand on his chest.
"Well in that case, I guess you're not eating any dinner tonight," he declared playfully. The older man moped, sulked, and pouted out his lower lip.
"Aw, man! No, but seriously, what's for dinner?"
"I ain't telling!" Smithers said gently but obstinately. Moe sighed.
"Alstublieft?" he begged. Smithers perked up at this and replied with,
"Ah, dus je spreekt nederlands."
"U ook, zo lijkt het. Boeiend, is het niet?"
"Vrij," Smithers agreed. They continued to have gaging conversations in Dutch, developing a deeper appreciation for themselves and the language all thw while. However, of course, Maggie had to ruin the moment by crawling away.
"Hey, where's Maggie?" Moe inquired.
"Oh, God. We just lost a baby," Smither slightly panicked.
"Keep your shirt on, professor. She's around here somewhere."
BAM! A noise came from the ceiling. The two men mouthed, "You don't think," to each other before going outside and discovering -
"MAGGIE'S ON THE ROOF!" And sure enough, Maggie was crawling around on the roof. They did not know how she got up there, but they had to get her down, for sure. Smithers scrambled to get a ladder and Moe tried escalating up the rain gutter only to discover that it was slippery. He landed on the top step of the ladder, groin first.
"Doh!" Moe shouted, the pain shooting through his lower abdomen. Smithers cringed.
"Sorry, Moe!" Then, they climbed up the ladder to get Maggie down on the ground. Unbeknownst to them, she was right behind them as they peered over the edge.
"You don't think she fell, do ya?" Moe asked. Smithers was about to reply when suddenly -
SHOVE! "AAAAAAA!" SPLASH! Maggie pushed Moe and Smithers from behind off the roof so they landed in a swimming pool. They resurfaced, laughing their butts off. Kids these days, they thought. Even Maggie laughed, as she climbed back through the window.
Moe was pleasantly surprised when Smithers served him dinner back in the house: steak, mashed potatoes, and peas. After they were finished showering and putting Maggie to sleep, Homer and Marge returned. Their house wasn't upside-down or exploding from a radioactive substance: always a good sign.
"Thank you, guys! Here's your payment," Marge said, handing them each some money.
"No problem, Midge! She's real great!" Moe complimented. Afterwards, Moe drove to Smithers's house to drop him off. They stood in front of his step.
"You're so good with children," Smithers gushed warmly.
"Me? Nah, I – no," Moe said, blushing modestly.
"Are you kidding? You're amazing," Smithers chuckled. Moe looked down humbly before saying,
"Well, this is it. I'll see ya tomorrow." He stuck out his hand, but instead, Smithers strode to him in three steps and enclosed him in an affectionate hug. Moe hugged back, although he was rather surprised.
"Always," the younger man whispered into his ear, shortly before walking through the door. Moe stood there, blinking in confusion. Just what did he mean by that? What is this familiar feeling I've got? Why the hell am I thinking like one of those girls on television? Moe didn't know the answers to any of these questions. The only thing he knew was that Smithers smelled really good: like shampoo, tangerines, and honey-suckle.