Chapter thirty-seven: Exclusively

After several days of stolen glances, random kisses in deserted corridors and several amorous liaisons at the office and in various places around the mansion, Burns was beginning to miss the simple act of sharing his bed with someone like he had a couple of nights ago and Bobo just wasn't cutting it anymore. Sounds of hot, mid-summer wind rustled just outside his window, whirring hauntingly through the shadows of his lonely, darkened bedroom. The silence and solitude seemed to echo off the empty walls and through his bones as he watched the silky blue curtains sway in front of the stained glass.

At the end of the workday, Smithers hadn't brought up the prospect of wanting to sleep over and Burns wasn't about to beg him to either, so they were left at a standstill and it was fast becoming irritating. The younger man had even loitered by his bed a tad longer than usual, waiting wordlessly for an invitation, giving ample opportunity even, yet Burns clung stubbornly to his own fastidiously crazy, twisted logic that it would somehow make him seem too vulnerable and clingy, characteristics which seemed to veritably work for Smithers, but such behavior was simply unacceptable and unbecoming of himself. tenasuiously

He had happily and unceremoniously turned his back to his assistant, scrunched up nice and snug beneath his covers and fell into the blissful state of slumber without a care in the world. To say that he had underestimated his need for companionship would be an understatement.

It wasn't until several hours later, when he'd woken up to such desolation, that the regret of his own stubbornness began to sink in. He wasn't accustomed to needing someone like this and it was still a bit alarming that so much of his time and his thoughts now centered on his assistant, or perhaps more accurately, his lover as that's what he'd come to accept him as now. Even the notion of thinking of Smithers as more than an assistant, more than a friend really, was still mind boggling.

What would he be doing right now? Was he already asleep? What possibly went on during the time that his assistant was away living his own life? However ridiculous he knew the notion sounded, it felt almost like whenever he went home, he ceased to exist until the next time Burns needed him again.

The clock by his bed indicated that it was well past midnight; two minutes before 1am to be precise and as he lay in his bed, watching the wistful, windy shadows of the night move across his window, an idea began to form. He sat up, flipped on the lamp next to his bed and pulled open the drawer of his bedside table, rummaging around until he found what he was looking for: the cell phone Smithers had given him months ago.

He didn't feel like leaving the comfortably warm haven of his bed to get the land line, so he opted for the more convenient route. He warily eyed the unfamiliar contraption within his grasp, running his fingers along it's sleek, black, minimalistic frame. It was nothing like his old phone, the familiar graceful curves of rich, white porcelain etched with delicate red roses. He felt overcome by the same strange feeling as when he had Smithers pressed against him for the first time, the unusually odd, yet pleasing feel of something new and certainly more masculine beneath his fingertips. It was new territory and he found it difficult knowing just where to start.

It was mostly all screen and there weren't many buttons on the thing which was disorienting. There was one lard button beneath the screen that didn't seem to do anything, but after a while he somehow managed to power the phone on and was greeted by the apple icon. Now that that hurdle was past, he had to figure out how to call Smithers or even what he was going to say to the man and he certainly wouldn't lower himself as much as to gush about how lonely and needy he was. No, he had to handle this with dignity and tact.

After much frustration, he had managed to get Smithers' name on there and found himself staring at a keyboard. So this must be how you send a text. Burns tapped the keys, proud of himself that he'd actually worked this out on his own.

-Smithers I need

He stopped typing, noticing that the words he'd been typing were now gone since he'd accidentally pressed send before he'd finished his message.

"Damn this ill-conceived contraption!" Burns spat with contempt as he tried to restrain himself from throwing it. "Why don't they just put a rotary dial on the thing?" He was about to give up and settle into his lonely bed for the night when the phone chimed and a message flashed across the screen with the name 'Waylon' above it causing his heart to skip a beat.

Wayon

-You text? Is this really you Monty? Are you ok?

Close Reply

The reply button glared at him contemptuously, daring him to respond, yet he had no clue what he wanted to say or how to convey it. Just seeing Waylon's name on the phone had curiously provoked such a rush of delightful panic, sending his restless heart all aflutter. After much stalling, he tapped reply which conversely took him to another screen, not the keyboard as he was expecting. His frustration grew as he knew Smithers was likely waiting for a response. He knew that he couldn't type fast so every second that he dawdled through the various menus was nerve wracking. Burns sighed, disappointed in himself and his ineptitude with modern technology.

Smithers would just have to wallow in confusion because he was simply too frustrated to continue, so he dropped the phone back into the drawer and switched off the light, then he curled back beneath the sheets and resigned himself to the familiar solitude and to the emptiness beside him. He could handle another night alone just as he had for years; he wasn't that desperate for companionship.

He heard the phone chime again, but chose to ignore it, gripping the sheets tighter around himself. Soon after, he heard the familiar melodic ring of his trusty old rotary phone. He let it ring several times, debating whether or not to answer, knowing full well that Smithers was probably panicking on the other end. That fact made him get up and pick up the phone.

"Smithers I'm fine." Burns answered immediately upon putting the receiver to his ear. It was satisfying actually being able to verbalize his intent, a mode of communication he was familiar with.

"Oh thank heavens. I was worried sick!" Smithers blared excitably into the phone. "I thought maybe someone had cut the phone line and tried to break in! You don't know how relieved I am to hear your voice!"

"Yes, well... I didn't feel like getting out of bed so I thought the cell phone would be faster."

"You need me sir?" Smithers asked. Burns swallowed. Smithers had know idea just how poignant those words actually were in that precise moment on multiple levels.

"Not particularly, I just... I just wondered if..." he hesitated, unsure exactly how to voice himself. "Did you... remember to lock the doors last night?" Burns asked weakly.

"Uh, yeah. I did. Just like I always do." the suspicion in his voice was unmistakable; he wasn't buying it. "Mr. Burns what is it. I know something's up for you to call a one in the morning just for that." a pause, "You can tell me anything... anything at all." Burns tarried silently in the awkward moment.

"I couldn't sleep." Burns admitted.

"Oh. You... maybe need me to come over?" Smithers asked quietly. He could imagine the adorably flustered expression Smithers must be wearing right about now and it made his heart flutter all over again as he struggled to sequester his delight in this.

"Don't make a special trip or anything, but if you want to come over, then I certainly won't stop you." Burns words came out slightly more provocative and sexier than he had intended. He heard a sudden gasp and a sound as if Smithers had dropped his phone and a grin tugged the corner of his mouth. Smithers needed very little persuading.

"I'll be there in ten." and with those parting words, the phone clicked off abruptly. Burns laughed and sat the receiver back into its holder. Having Smithers at his beck and call was absolutely thrilling and he only wished he'd known it could be this way years ago. Of course Smithers had always jumped at a moment's notice whenever he was needed, but now it all seemed all the more exciting. Burns switched his lamp off and got back into his bed. He then placed a pillow behind his back as he leaned against the headboard and waited. It didn't take long before he heard Smithers shuffling about downstairs, then up the steps and finally cracking open his door. Light from the hallway illuminated from behind, revealing a black silhouette that was unmistakably Smithers. He heard the door cautiously click shut, the room darkening a degree.

"I came. Just like you wanted." Smithers breathing was ragged from his hurried pace, probably for a few other reasons as well.

"Apparently" Burns answered snarkily, rewarded by a smile that flashed across Smithers face as he stepped out from the veil of darkness and into the dim light of the room, sitting on the edge of the bed. Smithers' leg began to twitch nervously once the silence began to set in.

"Are you staying the night?" Burns asked.

"Do you want me to?" Smithers ventured, finally meeting his gaze.

"Yes." Burns stated firmly. It felt like some sort of turning point. Did this mean that Smithers would likely be sleeping over every night?

"Good. I couldn't sleep either." Smithers grinned, turning more towards him and leaning a little closer as his confidence slowly strengthened. "I really didn't want to leave earlier, but you didn't ask me to stay so-"

"You should have spoken up. I wouldn't have denied you." Burns spoke huskily. He leaned forward and drew Smithers closer, capturing his mouth in a kiss and feeling an eager moan humming against his lips.

"Is this what you wanted me here for?" Smithers stammered, still a bit dazed.

"I just didn't want to sleep alone, but now that you're here..." He leaned back in for another kiss, this time he was the one gasping, making little sounds as Smithers made quick work of opening buttons on Burns' shirt.

Soon, the two were bereft of all clothing, panting and desperately clinging to each other as they found themselves lost in the throws of passion, Smithers straddled above him, his back arched as Burns acclimated to this new and decidedly less strenuous position that he seemed to now favor as he watched Smithers moving above him in the dim moonlight cast from his window. His fingers gripped onto Smithers' legs, sliding up languidly and coming to rest on his hips, thoroughly enjoying the view before him. Burns reached for his lover's eager arousal and received a low rumbling groan of approval.

"I love you... Monty." Smithers panted, his voice deep and gravelly as he became completely lost.

"I know."

He struggled to keep Smithers in his grasp, give him pleasure as well, but it was proving difficult given the way Smithers was moving; however the younger man seemed to be enjoying himself anyway if his lustful sighs and other various vocalizations were any indication. It wasn't long before the two were spent and utterly exhausted. Smithers straightened his glasses, the light sheen of sweat glistening across his forehead as he collapsed next to Burns with a heavy sigh.

Once their breathing had leveled off, Smithers placed his glasses on the side table and pulled the covers over them and they settled into a comfortable position. Burns wrapped his arms around Smithers and curled up against him, reveling in the satisfied feeling of belonging with someone, no longer feeling the pangs of being so alone as he had earlier.

"Mmm Bobo..." Burns teased. Smithers laughed softly, pulling Burns' arms tighter around himself. After about a minute, Burns spoke again, uncertain if Smithers was even awake to hear him. "I love you too," Burns admitted softly, surprised at himself that he wasn't in the midst of passion or even completely drunk while making such an admission. "happy?"

"Very." Smithers answered.

- o – o – o -

It was Friday morning. Smithers sat at his desk, happily typing away in his office and finishing up some errands that Mr. Burns had given him. On his desk sat a couple of cinnamon pastries on a plate from the local bakery and a cup of freshly brewed tea prepared exactly to his preference: one sugar and just a smidgen of milk.

He had been greeted with such hospitality for the past few days, ever since he'd found that eloquently crafted, heartfelt poem in Burns office addressed to him. All of the special treatment and hoopla surrounding him certainly felt nice, but it was entirely unnecessary. He had always been there for Burns' convenience and, in all his humility, it felt odd having his boss fuss over him like this even if they were tangled in the midst of a heated romance.

The funniest part was that Burns never mentioned any of it. Not the tea and pastries, not the poetry nor the flowers left on his doorstep, none of it. No doubt Burns must have arranged for one of his workers to place everything for him since he never was one for doing his own footwork, but the sentiment was there none the less and it had him grinning like a kid in a candy store. He knew Mr. Burns had often afforded such luxuries on his girlfriends, but who would have guessed that Mr. Burns, the man with a heart supposedly made of ice, could be such a romantic with him?

He took a sip of tea as he stared up at the monitor and scanned over his nearly finished memo on energy-efficiency and how it would negitively effect their profits, satisfied in the fact that Burns would approve of his hard work. He slouched over his desk, resting an elbow on it's wooden surface, his head propped on one hand. His fingers absentmindedly brushed across the blue, furry fringe framing his computer monitor and he sighed wistfully. Burns words from the previous night were on constant replay.

'I love you too... happy?'

All too soon his attention was averted as the door opened and Stella came waltzing through, without knocking first of course. She sat down on the edge of his desk, crossing her legs and simply stared at him. Smithers, still slouching over his desk and resting his head on his hand, looked up at her questioningly.

"What?" he asked.

"Nothin'." She answered unenthusiastically.

"Did you come just to gawk at me?"

"Yeah. I love a man in glasses." she quipped, laughing softly. The veneer of joviality she projected obviously hiding something as her whole demeanor seemed more melancholic than usual. On someone normally so hyper-active and gauche it was quite noticeable and a bit disorienting.

"Are you being sarcastic?"

"Maybe." she answered. he opened his mouth to speak but she interrupted, asking the same question he was just about to ask."Is everything alright? I haven't talked to you, or even seen you much in the last couple of days. Been busy?"

"Oh, yeah. Mr. Burns is keeping me quite busy." he laughed, sitting up a little straighter in his desk chair. "He's a real handful."

"I can imagine. I'm happy for you." she smiled sadly. Lately he had been neglecting his friends, the few that he still had, without really noticing it. Everyone had taken a back seat to Monty and even his out-doorsy hiking buddies that he used to hang out with were probably wondering what was going on with him. He shook those thought off for the moment.

"You'll never guess what I received from Monty last night around one in the morning." Smithers grinned, knowing just how suggestive his wording had sounded when really he was only referring to the text message. Certainly she'd have some witty way of twisting some sort of crass humor out of it; that should cheer her up.

"Hmm... what?" Stella asked, distracted. Smithers wasn't fooled something was obviously on her mind. "Okay. What is it?" he stated flatly. "I know something's bothering you so out with it."

"Well, I don't really want to talk about it." Stella whined in her distinctively northern... perhaps Bronx accent, though he wasn't quite good at deciphering regional dialect as his own was quite bland, standard, middle-American. She picked up one of his pastries and took a generous bite out of it which he chose to ignore for the moment. "It's just... why to I always have fall for the gay ones?" Stella mumbled, her words muffled with food.

Smithers stretched his legs beneath his desk and shifted in his seat uncomfortably as he eyed the way she was sitting in front of him, legs crossed, shaking her foot with a slow rhythm. He was no expert at heterosexual flirting, but is that what she was doing? She wasn't looking at him, but down at the crumbs on her skirt, picking them off and indiscreetly putting them into her mouth. No she couldn't be flirting, but he must have been still gawking at her because when she looked up at him her eyes grew wide.

"Stella. You and I were never... I mean I like you and all, but-" Smithers stammered.

"I know, I didn't mean that! I just meant- every time... every damn time, I let myself fall for people that could never love me back. I've matched up everyone in my family, even my own widowed mother married my school guidance counselor because I brought them together." She laughed weakly, hopping down from his desk and brushing off her skirt. "Maybe love just isn't for me. I mean not everyone needs a relationship right?"

"No, not everyone," Smithers replied, "but you're different. You... being the cupid matchmaker that you are, you thrive on romance even if it's watching others live it. Look at me... if I can win the heart of Springfield's biggest womanizing Casanova then that means there's hope for anyone!" Smithers spoke, still a little flustered at talking about himself and Burns. Stella stood with her arms crossed pensively, looking as if she were in deep thought.

"Well, I think Carl seems like a nice guy." she said. "We met at a restaurant once and ate dinner together... or was it Lenny? I forget which. They're always together."

"Don't get too enthusiastic about either one of those two just yet." Smithers turned towards her in his chair, his hand near his mouth in a very hush-hush, gossipy way, "I don't want to out anyone, but once, I saw the two of them leaving the utility closet looking a bit red in the face and disheveled if you catch my drift." said Smithers, prompting them both to catch a case of the giggles. "Though I could be wrong." he added for good measure.

"Well there's always Moe and he's a great kisser." Stella added with a sigh as her laughter began to subside.

"Tell me about it." Smithers concurred. Stella's eyes grew enormously at this and Smithers winced at the timing of his statement. He honestly thought he'd told her about that one experimental kiss he shared with Moe on the steps of the courthouse.

"Smithers! Are you nearly done with those errands?" called Burns from the other room, interrupting their short-lived camaraderie. Smithers sighed with the relief that he seemed to have cheered her up somewhat. Stella picked up the newspaper on his desk, casually flipping through it as Smithers left the room and entered Burns' office. Burns was leaning against the edge of his desk with his arms crossed as if impatiently awaiting his arrival.

"I'm nearly done sir, I just have to check it over for accuracy..." Smithers softened his voice, letting his usual, all-business tone fall by the wayside as he continued, "and I must say... I really appreciate the sentiment."

"Sentiment?" Burns uncrossed his arms, shooting Smithers a questioning stare. Smithers stepped forward, almost effortlessly pulling the thin man into an embrace. Burns remained rigid in his arms for a moment before finally relaxing.

"The tea and pastries... everything." Smithers explained in a quiet, low voice near Burns' ear, causing the older man to shiver in his arms.

"Um... you're welcome?" Burns replied weakly, almost more as a question than a reply. It was really adorable that such small gestures of affection, a hug, a low whisper near his ear could melt that frigid heart so easily. What was even more adorable was the way that Mr. Burns continued to play innocent about all of the gifts and poetry.

"Oh, don't feign ignorance sir, I always knew you were a romantic at heart." Smithers laughed, still holding him close, slightly tighter now. Burns lightly stroked his back as if unsure what to do with his hands.

"W-whatever you say... but what is she doing here?" Burns asked. Smithers didn't have to turn around to know who he was referring to.

"Oh, don't mind me, I'm just looking through the classifieds... still looking for an apartment." said Stella.

"During work hours?" Burns asked, irritated and still trapped within Smithers' arms.

"Jeez, hold on, it'll only take a second!" the raven-haired woman whined, "Every time I find a place, someone always beats me too it. Besides, I'm desperate to move out of Lindsey's."

Smithers felt Burns tense at the name and took that as an opportunity to finally brake away from the embrace and give him a little distance as he prepared for the scolding that Stella would likely receive.

"Really? You still live at her place? Does she ever mention me?" Burns inquired.

"No, not so much anymore. She doesn't let me in on anything anymore like she used to. She says I'm a hindrance to her grand schemes and that I make too much noise and clutter, but between you and me, I act all annoying and hard to live with just because of how she treated you and Waylon."

"Monty. M-maybe you should j-just forget about her..." Smithers stammered, his voice wavering uncomfortably as old fears and jealousy reemerged, simmering just below the surface.

"Jealous?" Burns smirked sadistically. "It's alright Waylon. I'm just fishing for information, know thy enemy and all..." Burns winked, seeming genuinely pleased in Smithers' jealousy, but that reassuring wink did manage to assuage much of his concern. Burns turned back to Stella, "Now tell me, who does she pal around with these days.

"Well, there's her best friend Cookie Kwan," she began, counting them down on her fingers, "then there's Mayor Quimby, those two have struck up quite the friendship lately as well as Aristotle Ama... Amadost... Aeropostale?"

"Amadopolis." Burns corrected. His eyes grew intense with something that was unreadable, yet there was a slight gleam of excitement behind that stare, as if the game were on and he was up for a challenge. "So old Ari is in league with the devil too? And I always considered myself as one of Lucifer's henchmen."

"Actually," Stella began, "she hangs around with several of my friends too. Sid Lockhart and his sister Kendra, you danced with her at the banquet if I remember correctly. And Sid was the one..." she turned to address Smithers, "you remember Waylon? Right before the banquet in my bedroom when I caught the two of you together?" Smithers' heart sank. No. She was not about to open that can of worms. She couldn't! "The one you were making out with in my bedroom, remember?" she stated innocently. Smithers swallowed hard as a lump began to form in his throat.

"Um... that must have been someone else." he attempted to speak, but his voice cracked awkwardly. "I don't know anyone by that name."

"Come on, you remember. I walked in an caught you in your underwear making out with that young guy and threatened to hose you two down? You must have amnesia not to... remember that..." Stella grew silent, obviously realizing what she'd just revealed. Smithers eyes darted to Burns and his heart sank even more. The look of hurt and betrayal in those eyes was something he'd been unprepared for and it brought his world to a grinding halt. Burns looked away.

"A... young fellow?" Burns spoke steely, revealing no emotion. "Right before the banquet?"

Smithers swallowed nervously. He knew he had nothing to feel guilty about since it had all been a complete misunderstanding and totally unintentional on his part, but how could he even begin to explain?

"Oh no... NO!" Stella wailed. "Just... just kill me now. Seriously."

"It's okay Stell..." Smithers uttered.

"I'm sorry." she moped. "It was a misunderstanding really! Quite funny actually; tell him Waylon."

"C-can we just be alone a minute?" he touched her shoulder cordially, his eyes fixed on Burns. She left without another word, and it was like she'd suddenly taken all the air with her. He took a deep breath. Burns turned his back, pacing slowing as he often did when conflicted over something.

"You don't have to explain to me," Burns stopped in his tracks, still remaining remarkable unwavering and unreadable. "It's not like I'm a jealous wife... er husband... whatever. You have no obligation to me." Smithers' eyes grew wide with disbelief. No obligation? What did Burns even consider they were to one another for him to even make such a statement?

"Are you kidding me?" Smithers held his hands out to his sides, palms up as he spoke to Burns' back. "I have every obligation to you! You're the love of my life and I have every obligation to you and you exclusively! I love you and I owe you the world!"

"You don't owe me anything. All the lovers of mine that you've put up with for so many years... you've stood by when all of them left." Burns turned his head slightly, acknowledging him. "So I suppose it's my turn to be a little jealous don't you think? Let's just call us even shall we?" Burns turned towards him, closing the distance between them and standing so close, so distracting.

"You see, that's the thing. That Sid or whatever the hell his name is, he wasn't a lover. I only knew him barely five minutes before-"

"Shh. We're even." Burns silenced him with a kiss. Smithers had the feeling that Burns took more comfort in calling them even than he did. Maybe deep down Burns felt a little guilty even though he shouldn't. All those past loves were simply like thorns on the vines of love that had finally ensnared them together. Though, he couldn't deny what sweet revelry he took in having Burns actually jealous over him for a change.

"You were in your underwear when he kissed you? How did that happen exactly?" Burns asked after a moment. Smithers sighed exasperatedly, Burns was really enjoying torturing him a little too much.

"I was changing into my tux and he walked in on me... the sneaky bastard." Smithers retorted, his patience exhausted. "He was just a young, impressionable guy... wore a lot of black. I don't know what he saw in me but... he suddenly felt inspired to kiss me and that's when Stella walked in."

"You didn't have to go into that much detail. I believe you." Burns paused, after a moment adding, "I trust you." He looked nervous to even admit that, even more than actually saying 'I love you.' For someone like himself, trust wasn't something that was easily given.

"Really? That means a lot! I'm so relieved to hear you say that." Smithers said, affectionately gliding his hand down Burns' arm.

"So it's settled then." Burns steepled his fingers together as if he were about set up a business proposition, "We must set up some ground rules just to be clear. The relationship will remain exclusive... if those terms are acceptable for you that is..."

It took him a moment to register what was being said to him. For once, Burns wasn't being vague and wasn't mincing words and his heart was playing a symphony at that prospect. Burns wanted him and only him and he had to make sure there was no room for doubt before he got his hopes up.

"You mean as in, no more girlfriends... or boyfriends honing in, vying for your... or my affections? If that's what you want then I'm sure you already know my reaction!" Smtihers was positively beaming.

"Fine. Wear this then."

"Wha- wait WHAT? What the hell is that?" Smithers exclaimed and he felt something cold and metallic being forced into his palm.

"Shut up! It's not what you think! I'm not asking for..." Burns hesitated... a tense, uncomfortable expression crossing his features. Smithers pulse was running rampant as he viewed the golden band with its intricate, silvery Celtic pattern that Burns had forcefully pressed into his hand. Probably pure gold and platinum no less. Burns scratched his neck as a deep crimson hue began to color his cheeks.

"Don't look at me like that! It's not a damn wedding ring, it's just... it means you're taken. Off the market. I don't want any young, teen-aged hooligans or anyone else honing in on what is mine and if they see this then..."

Smithers fought the tears that threatened to fall as he tried to swallowed down his emotions. He didn't care if it wasn't an engagement, all he cared about was that he didn't have to share Burns anymore. No more staying up late at night worrying that some gold-digger was trying to rob him blind or steal his heart away and break it all over again. That is, if Burns was willing to keep his end of the exclusivity.

"But what does this mean for you? Are you going to be exclusive as well?" Smithers asked. He was a little afraid of the response he would get as Burns' affinity for the opposite sex was legendary.

"Of course." Burns flashed his hand towards Smithers, wiggling his fingers until a gleam of light caught his eye. Burns was wearing a similar peice of gold around his finger. Burns took a few steps back and childishly hopped up to sit on his desk.

"Your powers of observation are quite lacking Smithers. I've been wearing it for days. Seriously, could you possibly be that blind?" he scoffed, in a tone of what appeared to be mock-annoyance. "Though, you can't stop a man from flirting or sneaking a peek at the ladies every now and then. It's in my blood after all. Besides, the limits of my sexual prowess are already tested with your insatiability.

"Fair enough." Smithers grinned.

"Now as much as I'd love to stand around all day shuckin' corn with you women folk, I must be getting back to work. I have a staff meeting to get to and you have to supervise... er something I believe?"

"Right." Smithers took a step forward, placing his hands on either side of the desk where Burns was sitting, trapping him just as he was about to leave and capturing his lips in one long kiss that would have to last him for the next couple of hours until lunch break. His voice hummed in his throat as the kiss grew more passionate, knowing that he had to break away before it went too far. He finally pulled away leaving Burns leaning back over his desk looking completely disheveled and breathless.

"See you at lunch." Smithers flashed him a quick smile, quite pleased at seeing the state he'd left Monty Burns in as he left to fulfill his duties as senior executive supervisor.

- o - o - o -

Unbeknownst to Smithers, Mr. Burns had been keeping a keen eye on him ever since giving him that blasted ring and now he was feeling slightly regretful. Not that he didn't mean what it stood for and he certainly wasn't ashamed of his feelings anymore, but for the fact that it might cause more of a ruckus for him and his assistant than they really needed right then.

He sat his chair in front of his huge wall of security screens and watched as Smithers seemed to have garnered quite a bit of attention from what he assumed must be hecklers. After learning that most of Springfield already suspected his assistant's homosexual inklings years before he did, he was a little weary of what everyone would think. He was even becoming a bit more protective over his assistant, much like the way he felt when Smithers was a kid and had come to his mansion after school with stories of bullies, teasing and with the bruises to prove it. Though, most of it had been childish schoolyard fights, probably not directly related to sexual orientation.

He still remembered with much horror and great trepidation how things had been in the old days and how people like Smithers were often treated. Many ostracized and ridiculed, some brutalized, but nearly always the butt of everyone's jokes at the very least. Of course, this was no school yard and things had greatly improved over the years in respect to people's attitudes over homosexuality, but Burns didn't want to chance it. He continued to watch the monitor screen like a hawk for the first sign of distress. He might not have been able to protect Smithers much during his childhood, but he certainly had it in his power to do so now.

Smithers seemed to have quite the audience now and he cursed the camera for not allowing him to listen in on what they were actually saying. Unable to take the pressure of not knowing anymore, he quickly left his seat and prepared to confront the potential hecklers that seemed to be causing problems for his assistant.

A.N. - Sorry for the long wait again. I know it is frustrating to have to wait such a long time for new chapters to the point where you forget what was going on and have to catch up, but I do think the writing bug has returned and I hope it stays to inspire me. I got a lot of great advice from some wonderful people on Deviant Art that got me through a bout of writer's block and I'm very grateful for that. Burns struggling with text messaging was similar to my own struggles at texting the first time and keeping up with modern times. Luckily I'm a quick learner once I get started. XD

I thought this would be the last chapter, but I couldn't fit it all in here and I must let the story unfold at it's own pace. This thing was quickly surpassing 7000 words so I split it into smaller, more manageable chapters. I'll post the next part as soon as it's finished in a couple of days, not weeks this time. xD Thanks for all that are following along and for the reviews, I read them all and appreciate every last one. Much love to you all!

Up next: Burns goes to confront Smithers' supposed 'hecklers' only to discover that he may have read a little more into the situation than what had really occurred. More progress on Baines and Wallace ahead as the vampire apprentice graduates to full-fledged vampire and develops his own version of bloodlust.