I looked like a complete mess the next morning. I hadn't had Smithers to bathe me, dress me, comb what little hair I had left on my head…I was a disaster. I didn't want Smithers to see me like that, but I had no choice. He came in early to pour my coffee, deliver my paper, and serve my breakfast: our beloved morning routine. You already have all these routines together, Monty. It's always been a romance waiting to happen. No, no. Stop those thoughts. They're wrong and unrequited. Remember that.

"Here you go, sir," Smithers said in an unusually flat tone of voice, bordering on angry.

I cringed, thinking of the penultimate night. "Smithers, I…I want to apologize for the other night. I don't know what got into me. She seemed like a perfectly nice girl. And a fit bird, that one. Yes."

Smithers offered me a frail smile. "Thank you for your apology. But it's too late."

"Too late?"

"I broke up with Clara that night, sir," Smithers said, turning away. "I thought that if she displeased you so, I could never really be with her."

"You did what?" I exclaimed, knocking over a bit of coffee, which Smithers immediately cleaned up.

Smithers reiterated, "I broke up with Clara."

"Because of me? Smithers, how could you, you idiot?"

Smithers shrugged. "You're my first priority. You know that."

I shook my head in shock. "Oh, Smithers, why do you keep doing this to me?"

His eyes filled with pain, Smithers asked, "What? Keep doing what to you?"

"Making me the one that ends all of your romances. Making me the one with the guilt over your obvious unhappiness."

Smithers stared at me in surprise. "I…I don't know what to say. I'm so sorry, Mr. Burns, if I ever…"

"Pish posh. Forget it. Let's forget this whole thing ever happened."

Gazing at and through me with his massive eyes, Smithers began to say something quietly, but stopped himself. After a few moments of the most awkward silence I have ever endured, I said, "Well, we should get on with our day then. Today I want you to refill my calligraphy pen, fire two employees, re-alphabetize my files, and…" I hesitated. Looking into Smithers' eyes as I spoke to him, I realized that I didn't want to forget this ever happened. I didn't want to forget the turmoil I had been through the last week. I didn't want to forget my revelation of love.

Smithers asked, "Yes, sir? Is there anything else you want me to do?"

"Yes, there is," I began nervously. "I want you to kiss me." I couldn't believe I had let the words trip out from my mouth into the air. Neither could Smithers. I had never in twenty-five years seen him look as utterly stunned as he did then. I didn't know if it was a good kind of stunned or not, though. For once, I couldn't read his eyes.

But I could read his lips. Still astounded, Smithers approached me and our lips met softly without another word spoken between us after my disquieting proclamation. We had kissed once before, when Smithers believed the world was going to be destroyed, and even then, I felt something. But it wasn't quite like this. No, nothing was quite like this.

After our lips parted, I didn't know what to say. What could I possibly say? We both stood there in silence until Smithers spoke. "Mr. Burns, I…does this mean…?"

"I don't know what it means. I mean, Smithers, you…Clara, your wife…and me, I've had 207 female companions…I don't know what this is."

"Sir, I, well, I…" Smithers mumbled. "I loved my wife and I was beginning to love Clara, but…it's always been you, Mr. Burns. If I knew there was any possibility of, well, this, I would never have turned to either of them in the first place. It's only that I began to realize that you were not in love with me and never would be, so I thought I should just try. I mean, I thought it probably wouldn't work, but I thought I owed it to myself to give a 'normal' relationship one more try."

"I see," I said quietly.

"But it didn't work. Even if you had loved Clara for me, it wouldn't have worked. Because it's you, sir. It's you whom I love," Smithers admitted freely for the first time in his life.

I looked down. "Smithers, I want to…I want to be with you. But I don't think I can wrap my mind around the idea of being with another man. It's just not me. It's just not right."

Panicked, Smithers responded, "Oh, sir. It is right. If you love me and I love you, what else matters?"

I shifted uncomfortably in my chair as I answered, "I have a reputation to uphold in this town. I need to be feared. And no one would be intimidated by a sissy pants."

"What's more important, sir? Your ability to intimidate or your ability to be happy?"

I looked at Smithers, then to my desk, then to the surveillance cameras, unable to know what to say. Then Smithers took my hand and said, "I love you, Mr. Burns."

And suddenly, I knew what to say. "I think you can call me Monty now."

THE END