A Subtle Confession (Mr. Burns x Smithers)

Chapter fourteen - Spontaneous

"Smithers, we are to attend a charity event anon," Mr. Burns said grimly to his assistant at the end of the day. "Now, it isn't as if I want to attend this event, but I'm being peer pressured into it from one of my old Yale buddies. His name is William, and he is even more ancient than I. But not a word to him, as I would like to get this event over with, and not get sucked into a pointless conversation with him about politics and economics. Bah, I could care less."

"Of course, Sir. Should we go shopping for the appropriate clothing beforehand?"

"Not at all, Smithers. I don't see why either of us should put the thought into an event for such a cause of charity."

Smithers helped his boss into their limo before taking off towards the charity event. It was held at a rather large Christian church at the edge of Springfield. Smithers could tell Mr. Burns was dosing off in the back seat of the vehicle.

Smithers and Burns pulled up to the church before examining the place closer. There seemed to be about a hundred people already inside, dancing and drinking. Smithers rolled his eyes. Maybe this will help Mr. Burns open up a little more. "Sir, we're here," he said, gently shaking his boss.

"Wha . . .  what? Oh, yes, very well. Help me out, Smithers."

Walking into the event, it was clear they were just slightly overdressed. While Smithers and Mr. Burns wore posh suits and ties (or in Smithers' case, a bowtie), all of the other guests wore casual but formal clothing. Smithers wondered why Mr. Burns would even bother going to such an informal event.

"Why, if it isn't ol' Burnsie!" An energetic voice rang out somewhere within the crowd. Out walked a man, significantly older than Burns --- and it showed, since Mr. Burns looked even younger than his age. He was slightly fat, and wore a doofus - like grin.

"Ah, yes, hello, William. This is Smithers. Smithers, this is William, the one I told you about."

"Oh yes, it's very nice to meet you, William," Smithers said, extending his hand for the man to shake. Mr. Burns rolled his eyes as they shook hands.

"Well, Burnsie, have yourself a good time here tonight. Maybe loosen up a bit so you and your boyfriend can have a little fun later," he said with a wink.

"Bah-what?!" Mr. Burns exclaimed. "He is not my-!" he started to protest, but William had left, leaving a bright read Burns and a chuckling Smithers. "Smithers, stop your cackling!"

A few drinks, and one awkward and apart dance later, Mr. Burns lifted his finger. "Smithers, I demand we return home now. I have had enough of this cheap buffoonery."

"Very well, Sir."

Smithers helped Mr. Burns back into the limo, and shot him an amused glance through the rear view mirror. Mr. Burns rolled his eyes.

"Smithers, I hope you know that we're not . . ." he trailed off.

"Yes, I know. It was merely a humorous joke, nothing more."

"Yes . . ."

All the ride back, Mr. Burns continued to shoot his assistant glares, and even a few curious looks every now and then, as if lost in thought. Smithers returned most of them with a chuckle. 

Suddenly, but quietly, Mr. Burns touched a hand to his heart, then clamped it. Smithers didn't notice until. Mr. Burns made a sort of choking sound. Whipping his head to the mirror to see what was happening, Smithers pulled the vehicle over in panick.

"Sir?" he asked frantically.

"S-Smithers-!" Mr. Burns choked.

"What-what's happening?! I'll call 9-1-1."

"No, don't . . .  bother. Let me die in peace."

"Nonsense, Sir, you're not going to die! Take deep breaths, please," Smithers said as calmly as he could. Mr. Burns allowed himself to become a bit more relaxed before moving into a coughing fit once again. After a while he started to calm down, and his hand left his heart.

"I . . .  I believe that was a panic attack, Smithers."

"What? What could you possibly have to worry about right now?"

"What do you think, Smithers?" Mr. Burns snapped. A look of realization swept over Smithers' face. "I-I don't know what to feel, or how to act . . .  I need help with my emotions, Smithers. I-I just don't know if you're the one to give me that help," that was a lie. Mr. Burns knew damn well that Smithers was the one to give him the help he needed, and what was worse in his mind was that he wanted Smithers to help him. To give him what he wanted. "Smithers, I love you. don't underestimate that. I'm just not sure . . ."

"It's okay, Sir. You don't have to explain yourself to me. You can write a whole novel with just the look in your eyes."

"Bleh! I'll have none of that sappy nonsense at the moment, Smithers, but I do appreciate the intent. Just drive me home."

"Sure, Sir."

Waylon drove a couple more miles before he noticed Mr. Burns stirring in the back of the car. "Is anything wrong?" he asked.

"I think it would be best if you stayed at my house tonight."

A/N: So, I have an announcement to do with this story! I officially have an ending worked out, and this story will be 20 chapters long. That means, I have only six chapters to write! As always, thank you so much for reading!
-C

(Image credit: MissNeens, Deviant Art)