THEN
"What on earth happened, Monty?!" Smithers demanded.
"She thinks I keep you here as my pet and slave, and took umbrage at such."
Smithers rubbed his temples and put his head in his hands. He felt a headache coming on. "Did you even try to explain things to her?"
Burns rubbed his hands together petulantly. "I tried, but I am quite sure she didn't believe me." He shifted his weight from one foot to another.
"This!" Smithers wailed, "this right here is the reason I'm losing all my hair!" He turned to face Burns. "Couldn't you two play nice together, or at least be civil with one another!?"
Burns sulked. "I was trying to enjoy some time to myself. She didn't have to come snooping in like some… snoop!"
Smithers groaned. There would not be enough aspirin in the world for what he'd feel later. "I'll be perfectly honest," he said, massaging his head, "I have no idea what the trouble is between you two. She's my fiancée, you're my boss. Yet any time I even mention one to the other, I wind up getting the worst of it!" Smithers slapped an open palm on the table. "There shouldn't even be any reason for an overlap. I don't even understand where the tension is coming from!"
Isn't it obvious? Burns thought irritably.
"It's like you're in a competition over me, or something. There's enough Waylon to go around. I can be your colleague, and still be her fiancé. It's not even the same thing!" he yelled, throwing his hands up in exasperation.
Burns rubbed the bridge of his nose. It wouldn't be just Smithers who had a massive headache in a short while. Oh, my dear friend, if you only knew! he thought ruefully. There isn't enough of you to go around. Burns closed his eyes and pinched the spot between his eyes.
"How could you two go from cordial to screaming at one another in just two meetings!?"
It was a rhetorical question, Burns decided, and he didn't feel like answering. Smithers continued to rant and bemoan the tension.
Burns groaned. The words were on the tip of his tongue. She's jealous because she knows. Or, at least, if she doesn't know she has a damn good idea. Burns swallowed them down. Time to redirect the attention away from him.
"You did invite her to the Groundbreaking Ceremony, did you not?"
Smithers raised his head. "Yes…"
Burns nodded. "And I daresay she has not spurned the invitation, even now?"
"We spoke on the telephone the other night. She's still going."
Burns started pacing. "How is she feeling about the Capital City trip?"
"She's pretty mad that I'm not inviting her, but I think she'll get over it."
"Waylon, my good man, I shall make a concession for you. At the ceremony, I promise I shall not get in the way of you and lady, Roberta. By that same token, however, I expect nothing less than your attendance at my side when we take the first shovelful of earth." Burns continued to walk back and forth, hands clasped behind his back. "I will expect you to fulfil your required duties as esteemed colleague and collaborator in this public…" he waved a hand, trying to think of the word, "… celebration."
Burns faced Smithers again. "At the same time, I shall not take offense if you see it best to focus your informal attentions to your fiancée. This is, of course, a monumental compromise on my part. If I had my druthers, I'd find you devotedly at my side all evening."
Smithers stood up, and walked over to Burns. His face was weary, but his eyes had a sparkle of mischievousness. "'Devotedly,' eh?"
Burns raised an eyebrow. "Would you prefer 'proudly?' 'Enthusiastically?'" His lips curled in a playful smile. "'Tenderly?'" he offered innocently.
"Jeeze, Monty," Smithers laughed, blushing profusely. "Oh, I don't know. All of the above, I suppose?"
Montgomery Burns felt light on his feet. All of the above? Yes, please. It was the first time Waylon had ever said anything like that before. Burns took a deep breath, and tried not to let his feelings show on his face. He felt his cheeks warm a tad bit, but complimented himself for keeping his mouth a prim, straight line. If there was anything Monty Burns always desired, it was to keep his cards close to his chest.
THEN
The ceremony went off without a hitch. True to his word, Burns let Smithers and Roberta have their time together, and in exchange, Roberta didn't balk when Smithers attended to the formal requirements.
Johan followed at Burn's heel, not speaking much, lest his accident upset some of the more anti-German members of the crowd. Burns read his speech that Smithers had prepared, the golden shovel (it was real gold!) was used to turn over the first scoop of earth. Smithers' initial background screening for Uranium acquisition was submitted.
The weather cooperated beautifully, the caterers provided an ample spread of various foods and drink. Neither the owners, sponsors, nor attendees could've asked for a more perfectly run event. Roberta and Smithers appeared to have patched up whatever differences they'd had, and for the time being at least, everything seemed to be on an even keel.
THEN
"Have you ever been to Capital City before," Burns asked brightly as Johan carried their bags to the Rolls Royce limousine he'd parked out front. The summer sun was just barely cresting the hill, but Johan had taken the liberty of packing everything the night before.
The only personal item carried by either man was Smithers' leather satchel. He held it by the handle in his left hand. "Once; with my parents when I was young."
"What do you remember," Burns asked, cheerfully.
Smithers shrugged. "Not much, to be honest. We went to the zoo, and the aquarium I think." He handed his satchel to Johan, who put it in the back seat between the two men's seats. "Honestly I don't recall more than that. It was a long time ago."
Burns drummed his fingertips together. "I think you'll enjoy yourself. The symposium is taking place at the Palace Hotel. For the sake of convenience, I took the liberty of securing a suite at the top floor."
Several months ago, the idea of staying at the Palace Hotel would've left Smithers floored. Hearing it now, he nodded thoughtfully. He'd gotten used to the splendor and extravagance that Burns surrounded himself with. Quite used to it, in fact. He no longer gave a second thought about ordering Johan to secure an item for him, or prepare package some files for the mail.
Living in the manor had desensitized Smithers to the opulence of the so-called 'Burns lifestyle.' Like the paintings on the walls, or the statues that filled the various galleries, Johan had become just another fixture of the manor to Smithers.
Johan held the door open; Smithers and Burns climbed in. He shut the door behind them, and climbed into the driver's seat.
The limo purred to life. Burns rolled up the window between the driver's compartment and their own, then sat back and folded his hands behind his head. "Well, Waylon, my man, I think you will enjoy the city. I'll point out some of my favorite places to you."
Smithers was digging in his satchel for something. "I thought you said there wouldn't be time for sightseeing," he remarked, as he pulled out a large manila envelope.
"Oh, there won't be," Burns replied casually. He looked out the tinted window as they rolled out the west gate, and on to the main road. "But from our vantage point at the Palace, you'll see most the city." He smiled. "Our suite is on the fifty-eighth floor. You can see everything from up there."
"You've stayed there before, I take it?" Smithers asked. He pulled several pages of information on radiation protection standards, and started reviewing them; only half-listening to Burns.
"I have, but never with a shared room." He stretched his legs out. "Oh, I mean Johan stays there too, of course, but I let him field his own lodgings. My only requirement for him is that he never be inaccessible if I need him." Burns stared out the window. "I am highly selective in the company I keep."
Smithers didn't reply. He proof-read the first few pages and passed them over to Burns. Articles and preamble for the upcoming discussions. Critics of the Atomic Energy Commission were complaining about insufficient standards for safety in new nuclear generating facilities.
Concerned citizens worried about the fact there was no formal regulating group that oversaw and inspected safety at the current and proposed plants. Investors countered that the current standards were well and above minimum safety requirements. Tensions were mounting on both sides.
The Atomic Energy Commission was drawing flak from all quarters.
Burns' main objective was to ensure that the construction of the Springfield plant was not compromised. Smithers pointed out if there were any requirements that might come to be passed in the near future, it would behoove them both to be ahead of the curve. Build it right the first time, and we won't have to waste money on upgrades later, he pointed out.
As they rode, Smithers and Burns discussed their primary objectives, and decided on how they'd present their argument. Considering Smithers' plans had already been approved by the Atomic Energy Commission, neither of them expected much difficulty with the remainder of the project. Smithers was nothing if not meticulous in his work. Every i dotted, every t crossed. There was no detail that had escaped his keen eye.
Burns enjoyed watching Smithers work. He liked to see the passion with which the man threw himself into the projects. This suits you far better than teaching, Burns remarked one day as he watched over Smithers shoulder.
Smithers had looked up and smiled. It does, doesn't it. Smithers had even added a kennel structure on the plant diagram, a proper place to store the hounds. I'm thinking we should electrify the outer fence, he added. Just for good measure.
Ah, Smithers really did have a knack for this, Burns reflected as he watched the countryside scroll past the limo windows.