Note: This story was made in honor of the fictional series it was based on, and done so without any intent to make money. All respective copyrights belong to their respective owners. The "Simpsons" characters borrowed for this story don't belong to me but the ones made for this fanfiction are, so please don't use them without permission.

HOPELESS DREAMS by Silvertide

"Waylon? It's me, open up."

"Go away."

"What was that? I can't hear you, can you open the door?"

"I said go away!"

"I know you're angry right now but- wait, I think I still have the key for the door. Ah. I do!"

"No! Don't open that door. Please Mabel, just leave me alone!"

A young woman opened the door into the apartment of Waylon Smithers, former employee of the richest man in Springfield. The woman, Mabel Kitchner, walked into a room barely lit by sunlight peeking from behind a shaded window. She tiptoed around dim shapes strewn across the apartment floor and pulled up a window shade. Daylight shot out of the window, revealing a disheveled man sprawled on the apartment floor. Several bottles, soaked with the scent of cheap beer, surrounded the man crumpled over with despair.

"Waylon, have you been drinking again?" asked Mabel.

"Leave me alone, I can't stand to have you see me like this," moaned the man on the floor.

"Oh my poor Waylon, did you drink yourself to sleep?"

"I didn't sleep."

"I see," said Mabel with a sorry look, "How did the job interview go?"

"It didn't. When I called yesterday afternoon, they told me someone else got the job."

"That's awful, no wonder you spent all night drinking again. Here, let me help you up," said Mabel as she tried to lift Waylon to his feet.

"No, no, you don't have to-"

"It's okay, let me help you." The young woman held up Waylon as he staggered to stand on his own two feet. "With your qualifications you'll find a new job in no time. I'm sure of it."

"You really don't have to check up on me like this, I can take care of myself," insisted Waylon, "You've helped me out more than enough already."

"Don't worry about it, I'm just paying you back for all the help you gave me when I was just an interning assistant." said Mabel as she helped Waylon take a few steps.

"You've been a very good friend Mabel, I just wish that- wait, what do you mean by 'was just an interning assistant'? I thought you-"

"Oh! I mean when I was just starting out as-"

"Burns promoted you, didn't he?" Waylon pushed Mabel away, breaking her hold on him.

"No! No, he- I mean- oh, I wish I didn't let it slip out like that," replied Mabel sorrowfully.

"How long?"

She looked to the floor, avoiding his glare.

"How long, Mabel? Tell me!"

"Last week," said Mabel, still staring at Waylon's apartment floor. "He asked me if I wanted the promotion after you left, I refused, but everyday he kept insisting I take the job. Last week he started demanding I take the promotion or he'd-" Her voice began to choke up as she tried to finish her sentence. Then she became silent and tried her best not to cry.

"How could you!" Waylon glared at Mabel with pent-up rage. "You've taken my job? After all I did to help you, and you betray our friendship by taking my old job, you-"

"I had no choice, he threatened to tell my father I was sleeping around with the employees at the plant," said Mabel as she held back tears.

"So? We both know that isn't true, you could have refused-"

"I can't. You know how important my father's respect is to me. He'd never believe me over him."

"You've betrayed me. Get out."

"No, listen to me. I had no-"

"Get out!" screamed Waylon.

"Wait, I-"

"Get Out! Get Out! Get Out!"

"But-"

"Leave! Now!"

Trembling with fear, Mabel backed away from him, then turned and left his apartment. The door slammed behind her. Holding back tears, she ran back home as fast as she could. Blaming herself for what had happened, she had been taking care of Waylon ever since he quit working for Burns. Her friend rarely went out, he spent most of his time in his apartment. Alone. She took care of basic necessities for him, such as buying groceries and cooking his meals. Poor Waylon was not able to even make a sandwich without bursting into tears over his separation with Burns. After all she had done for her friend, he still looked at her with scorn, with hatred, with the mistrust one would give an arch-nemesis. But not all the time. Some days, he treated her as the friend that she was, and occasionally looked at her as something more. Those few days encouraged her to keep helping, but no amount of motivation could overcome this latest outburst.

Mabel flung open her apartment door trying to hold back the sobs. Her door slammed shut behind her as she threw herself onto her bed, wetting the covers with tears. Eventually she calmed down and sat up, hunched over with her head drooped in sorrow. Mabel looked around her bedroom and began to weep as her calm disappeared into deeper sorrow. Pictures of Waylon were scattered among various "Malibu Stacy" collectibles adorning her room. Realizing he may never let her visit again, she gathered up all of her photos of him. Snapshots of him and her at the zoo. Pictures of them at the circus. At work. Photos of them together. Pictures of just him. Holding down tears, she tossed them all into a cardboard box along with a handful of "Malibu Stacy" fan guidebooks authored by Waylon. The man who became who best friend would never look at her as a friend again. After taping the box shut and shoving it aside, Mabel took out a little pink book. The words, "My Malibu Stacy Diary" were printed on the cover.

As she dried her tears, Mabel found a pen and tried her best to write an entry:

Dear Stacy,

After today, you will probably be my best friend again. No matter what happens, you will always be my friend, which really means so much to me. Even when other "friends" in my life have disappointed me, you were always there ready to understand what I was going through. Today, I have something to get off my mind. Maybe telling you about it will help.

I have always had a problem with men I love making me cry. Whenever I disappointed my father, he always found something to say that brought me to tears. What is wrong with me? It is like my happiness depends on pleasing someone of the male gender. Today I have accepted that Waylon, despite being a great guy, is not "the one". I will never find happiness with him. I know he loves me. I just know it. But after today, it is obvious he loves Burns more. I don't know what it will take for him to choose me over Burns- short of turning into a bald, dirty old man.

Men. They are so stupid! I should just give up on them. Dumb Burns. I hate him. I am only working for him because my father wants me too. I am starting to hate my father too. Why does he want me to run his little business empire anyway? It is not like any of my half-brothers and half-sisters cannot do it. So what if I am his only legitimate child? People secretly born to women he never married can still run his company. Revealing the truth would not be that big of a scandal. I want to follow my dreams! I want to work in the doll industry. So what if I will not make as much money? I will be happy, that is more important than doing what some man wants me to do. I felt really sad when I started writing this, now I feel really angry! I should live my life trying to make myself happy, and if the men in my life do not like it, too bad for them!

This little chat really helped, Malibu Stacy. Thank you for being there. Thank you so much, Malibu Stacy.

After writing in her diary, Mabel put it away and looked around her room once more. With new sense of determination pushing her on, she rifled through her things, tossing her belongings about left and right. Every so often she would find a picture of her father, which was then tossed on her bed. When she finished searching through her whole apartment, every photograph of her father was gathered on top of her bed. The cardboard box full of pictures of Waylon was taken out. She tore the tape off. Her father's pictures were piled into it, she closed it again and sealed shut with fresh tape. Mabel shoved aside the box, finished drying her tears, and left the apartment.

Mr. Burns sat in his office reading the newspaper as his personal assistant, Andrea Giarrusso, groomed his fingernails. Her curly brown hair was frazzled from long days of serving her boss hand and foot. A vacant, bored stare was beginning to become a permanent feature on her face. Ever since Waylon Smithers quit, she had to take on his old duties of being Burns' personal servant. Giarrusso carefully filed at the brittle nails of his bony fingers, as Burns grew bored with his reading, and slumped in his chair. Suddenly, the newspaper was slapped on Giarrusso's face, knocking her glasses off. She sighed and without protest, she bent down to look for her glasses.

"Bah!" exclaimed Burns, "Today's paper is so boring. Giarrusso!"

"Yes Monty?" Giarrusso got back up without finding her glasses.

"Go find me a better publication to read. And do it fast, woman!"

"But I can't see without my glasses," replied Giarrusso as she went back to the search for her glasses.

"I said fast, woman!"

"Sorry sir, I will do it right away," said Giarrusso as she tried to blindly navigate around Burns' desk.

"Oh, and I like your new look."

"New look?"

"You look very pretty without glasses, you should leave them off more often."

"Thank you sir," said Giarrusso as she felt something crack under her foot. She bent down and picked up her glasses with a quiet groan. When she put them back on, she sighed upon realizing there was a large crack on one of the lenses.

"And one more thing, bring me a nice glass of lemonade while you're at it, I'm feeling a tad thirsty."

"Yes sir. Very good sir," said Giarrusso with the best fake smile she could muster.

A few minutes later, she returned holding a platter with a glass of lemonade and a sheet of paper resting on it. She put the lemonade on his desk, and handed him the sheet of paper, which was full of fine print.

"What is this?" asked Burns, looking at the paper.

"While you're enjoying you lemonade, I was wondering if you thought about what we discussed the other day."

"You mean the will?"

"Have you thought about it?"

"What is there to think about, I'm not going to put you in my will."

"But if something ever happened to you, all your money would go to the government and bankers that don't care about you. Or worse yet, maybe the money will go to charity! Wouldn't it be better if your money went to those who really care about you?"

"Well, I suppose it would..."

"Your money should go to those who took care of you. To those who made your life better. To someone like me."

"But if I put you in my will, you might be tempted to do something unseemly like... poison my lemonade!" Burns pushed the glass of yellow liquid away from him.

"Oh, don't be ridiculous, I would never do something like that. I just want to make sure that your money goes to people who deserve to have it."

"And you think you're one of them."

"Well who else in your life cares about you?" asked Giarrusso as she caressed his bald scalp.

Burns slapped away her hand and stood up with indignation in his eyes. "So you just want my money? And I thought you genuinely liked me, but now I know better. All these shows of affection were just to butter me up so you could bewitch me into putting you into my will!"

"No! I-"

"Enough! Get out! Consider yourself fired."

"What? But- But-"

"Are you deaf? I said you're fired."

"Fine," replied Giarrusso as she slapped Burns in the face, "I never liked you anyway. The way you were treating me really wasn't worth the money!"

As she scornfully stomped away, she passed by Mabel in the hallway.

"Is he in his office?" asked Mabel.

"If I were you I would quit and leave that stingy old man all alone."

"What do you mean by- hey, what happened to your glasses?"

"I am through with working for him. You should quit and leave him all alone without any assistants around for him to abuse."

"You quit?"

"No, he fired me. You're the only one left now. Congratulations."

Giarrusso continued on and left Mabel standing speechless. Burns' last assistant went on and walked into his office. The old man was in a foul mood. He was tearing up the unsigned piece of paper that was handed to him moments ago, when he noticed Mabel walk in. His eyes instantly perked up and he beamed a smile.

"Mabel! Good to see-"

She slapped him in the face. "Shut up."

"How dare you! Do you want me to call your father?"

"Go ahead. I don't care anymore. I don't care if you fire me. I don't care what kind of lies you tell my father. In fact, I don't care what he thinks of me anymore either. You have no control of me."

"What? Is this some kind of bluff? I can call him right now, you know."

"Go ahead."

Burns reached for his phone and began to call her father, but Mabel stood in front of him with her arms crossed, unmoved. He hung up, realizing she was serious. "You really mean it now, you're not bluffing."

"Here," Mabel handed him a sheet of paper, "This is my resignation. I quit."

"But- but you can't quit, I just fired Andrea now which means-"

"You're out of assistants."

"How could this have happened? First Waylon, then you-"

"You happened."

"Are you saying this was my fault somehow?"

"Yes, because you acted like a jerk."

"But I'm not a jerk, my behavior has been exemplary."

"You should stop lying like that, your nose might get longer. Before I go, I want to thank you for something I've learned from my experience here."

"What's that?"

"That I can never find happiness with a man, because men only care about their happiness, not mine. All my life I tried to make my father happy by doing what he wanted me to. Then when I came here, it was my job to put up with and try to please you. Then there was Waylon. I'm tired of it. I'm quitting, if my father calls looking for me, tell him he has to find someone else to run his little empire, because I'm not the one who's going to do it!"

"You're giving up on training to be the owner of Kitchy-boy's business empire? But you're his only heir."

"No I'm not. He has plenty of other children, I'm just the only one born in wedlock."

"Hmm. I should have known, he was always good with the ladies."

"There is just one more thing I have to say to you before I go. Actually, it's more of a request."

"I probably won't do it, but continue on."

"Rehire Waylon."

"What? That traitor!"

"Yes. Rehire him. He's the best employee you ever had. I don't think you're right for him, but he can't go on living without you. Besides, no one else can tolerate the abuse from you like he can. Waylon needs you and you need him. And if you do rehire him, treat with more respect."

"Why would I give him more respect, I'm better than he is!"

"Personally speaking, the dirt under my shoe is better than you are. But that is beside the point. If he comes back and you want to keep him, you have to make him feel appreciated. From what he told me, he started to perform badly after you made him feel undervalued. He is a great assistant, don't forget that."

Mabel turned away from Burns and left. He sat at his desk for several minutes, not knowing what to do. The glass of lemonade and the pieces of the unsigned will sat on his table, untouched. Burns picked up the newspaper he threw at Giarrusso, and tried to read it, but he knew that he was putting off the inevitable. He sighed as he reached for the telephone and dialed a familiar number.

Waylon Smithers slumped in his apartment sofa. The lights were off, and the only light in the room came from the television set and a small opening in his window shade. He was watching a video of an old cartoon he watched as a small child. It was the episode of the Malibu Stacy cartoon where the main character fell in love with a young business man who had no time for love. Waylon sat up intently as the video reached the episode's climactic scene.

"But why Steve? Why can't we be together?" asked Malibu Stacy.

"I have dedicated my life to my career. As much as I love you Stacy, we cannot be together. I just do not have time for love," replied Steve, the young business man in the episode.

Sad background music began playing in the background as the Steve character walked away from a crying Malibu Stacy. Suddenly the telephone rang. Waylon wondered why there was a telephone sound, he never remembered a telephone being in the scene. He heard the phone ring again, and he paused the tape, realizing it was actually his apartment telephone. He picked up the receiver.

"Hello?" asked a familiar voice on the other end of the line.

"Mr. Burns?" Waylon's eyes lit up with surprise.

"Smithers? Is that you?"

"Yes, it's me. What- Why are you calling?"

"I want you to work for me again."

"And what if I don't want to?" asked Waylon, trying to mask his joy.

"Well, I have realized that although I do not consider you a... friend, you are my..." Mr. Burns struggled to finish his sentence, as he loathed to say anything sentimental. "...my closest acquaintance."

Hearing Mr. Burns call him his closest acquaintance lifted Waylon's spirits. "Really? ...er, I mean that doesn't change anything, you still haven't shown the proper appreciation for all the work I did for you."

Unseen to Waylon, Burns rolled his eyes at the thought of thanking anybody, but he put on a smile and said, "Thank you Waylon, for all the work you did for me all these years. You really did great work for me, and after comparing your years of service with my other employees, I realize that you were simply the best employee I ever had..." At the other end of the line, Burns quietly sighed and continued, "I said all those awful things about you to Mabel out of anger. I didn't..." Again, Burns struggled to say something so out of character for himself, "...I didn't really mean it. Can you please pardon my past transgressions of our... acquaintance, and come work for me again?"

Elated to hear Burns say something so close to a sincere thank you, Waylon gladly accepted Burns' offer. Tears streamed down his face as he realized that being an acquaintance is very close to being a friend. And friendship is not that far off from what he wanted his relationship with Burns to be. For the first time in what felt like far too many days, Waylon Smithers felt happy again, happy because there was hope for his dreams to come true.

One year after Waylon was rehired, he found himself escorting Mr. Burns to a party of wealthy business owners and rich investors. Burns was having a long discussion with a group of old friends, and Waylon found himself completely uninterested in their conversation. His eyes wondered the room and he saw a familiar shade of golden yellow hair sticking out of a crowd. Waylon excused himself from Burns as he made his way through the crowd. After circling around a small crowd of rowdy rich men drunk on expensive wine, he saw a beautiful young blonde feeding an old fat lady wearing ornate jewelry and out of fashion clothing. The blonde was Waylon's old friend, Mabel Kitchner.

"These shrimp pastries are incredible. I want you to get the recipe for these and make some for me first thing tomorrow morning!" ordered the old woman.

"Yes ma'am," replied Mabel.

"Of course don't forget to prepare the report on the factory's earnings, and open up for the workers tomorrow before you get my breakfast ready.'

"Understood."

"Oh yes, and give me another sip of that champagne from northern France."

Mabel put a glass of champagne to the woman's lips as she drank a small sip. All of a sudden, the old woman spit the drink back at Mabel's face.

"I said the champagne from northern France, this is from southern France! You should keep better track of which is which," scolded the woman as she pointed to several glasses of wine on a nearby table.

"How dare you!" Waylon saw what happened and could not stop himself from intervening. "How dare you treat this woman this way? It's demeaning enough that she's feeding you like she was your slave, how can you spit at her like that?"

"Who are you to tell me how to speak to my personal assistants? Do you know who I am?" asked the old woman. Mabel recognized Waylon and smiled while her boss' attention was away from her.

"No, I do not," replied Waylon.

"I am Matilda Booring, owner of the largest Malibu Stacy factory in this state, the co-owner of several power distribution companies and the majority shareholder of several Fortune 500 companies. Who are you to question the way I treat my hired help?"

Waylon had heard of Ms. Booring before, being a huge fan of "Malibu Stacy" dolls, he knew of her factory. Many former employees had sued Booring for mistreatment and poor wages. One former assistant claimed that she made him work 100 hour workweeks, for 40 hour workweek pay. All Waylon could say in reply was, "I don't care who you are, nobody should get away with mistreating their employees this way."

"How rude! I-"

"Excuse me Ms. Booring," interrupted Mabel, "Please allow me to deal with this personally. Remember what the doctor said about your blood pressure?"

"Very well, Ms. Kitchner. I'll leave it to you- oh my! There's my old friend Glenda! Um, I will be over there chatting with my old friend. I'll call you if I need you."

Ms. Booring left Mabel and Waylon alone. They stared at each other without saying a word for what seemed like hours. After a half minute of silence, Mabel broke the silence. "Hi."

"Hi," replied Waylon with a friendly smile.

"So I heard you're back with Burns, is he nicer to you now?"

"Well, he apologized to me when he asked me to come back."

"I could never imagine him doing that."

"I never imagined you would be working for Matilda Booring. How did you get the job?"

"One of her power distribution companies does business with one of my father's coal power plants. I managed to get a hold of her through some company friends."

"So you finally made it into the doll industry like you wanted."

"Oh, it's better than that. Matilda- I mean, Ms. Booring, is a visionary factory owner! She is such a great business women, and her taste in fashion is exquisite! She is absolutely wonderful," gushed Mabel.

"But she has such an awful reputation, I heard she is penny pincher on salaries and-"

"The way she treats her employees seems awful, but she really is a great person once you get to know her."

"She didn't seem so great to me. And she doesn't seem to appreciate the effort you go through for her."

"Ms. Booring does appreciate me, she just doesn't always show it. Besides, helping to make her happier is better than trying to constantly please a man."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"After the last time we met, I realized that all my life I was following the hopeless dream of finding happiness with a man. After meeting Ms. Booring, I now know that I have to find happiness with another woman."

"But women can be just as bad! Ms. Booring only cares about herself, she doesn't care about your happiness. Instead of trying to please a man, you're just trying to please another woman! You're in the same situation, but with a different gender."

"Are you saying that I should try to just please myself and not care about the needs and feelings of others?"

"No, then you'd be just like Matilda Booring, a foul, selfish human being."

"You mean like Mr. Burns?"

"No, Mr. Burns is better than that. He is a great man who deserves to have his whims and needs fulfilled by the world."

"So you're saying that Mr. Burns is better than my boss? Does he care about your happiness?"

"Mr. Burns is a great man, so great that he cannot concern himself with the happiness of people who are less than he is."

"People like you?"

"Yes... look, we are going off topic here. Just please tell me why you're working for her, is it because she owns a factory that makes Malibu Stacy dolls? Because you do know there are kinder owners of bigger factories in other states."

"I started working for her because of that, but now I just love being with her, she's a great person to be with, I- I don't know how to put it into words. I feel fulfilled as a person knowing that I am with her. Even though she treats me a little roughly at times, I know that eventually, she'll feel the same way about me as I do about her..."

"When I look into your eyes as you talk about Ms. Booring, I get the feeling you're in love with her, is that it?"

"No, Waylon! The way I feel about her is nothing like the way you feel about Mr. Burns."

"What do you mean by that, Mabel?"

"Come on. It's obvious, I know you too well."

"Changing the subject won't change the truth. I know you Mabel, I can tell you're in love with Matilda Booring."

"I am not!"

"Worse yet, you're in love with someone who abuses your affections, you have to quit, Mabel. Being with her will take you further away from happiness, not closer to it."

"...I could say the same about you and Burns."

"My relationship with Burns is different. Listen, just take my advice, your dream of happiness with that woman will never come true. It's hopeless."

"The same could be said about your impossible dream of Mr. Burns-" Mabel looked over his shoulder and noticed her boss calling for her, "I have to go. But before I leave, I need to know something. Do you love me?"

"Well, I love you as a friend."

"Do you, or have you ever loved me as something more?"

Waylon pushed back tears as he lied to Mabel, "No. Never, only as a friend... Did you ever love me? As more than a friend, I mean."

Mabel knew he was lying, she saw it in his eyes. And Waylon knew she was lying when she replied, "No, I only saw you as a friend too. I have to go. Take care."

"Goodbye Mabel."

They both held back their tears as she walked away.

The End.