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Description
Realistic-style Monty Burns and Waylon Smithers. An illustration from "The Unfolding of Waylon Smithers," sepia-toned, and using one of my own photo of Corning Tower, the Egg, and pools of The Plaza for the background.
_____
Burns lead him down to the Plaza, past the reflecting pools, to the marble steps of the museum. The stairway was wide, going up to the promenade he'd stood on early in the day as the chopper landed.
The stairs were uniquely designed. They also functioned as stadium style seating. From there, one could sit and look out over the Plaza to the capitol building at the far end. Burns led Smithers up to the top row of seats, several stories above the street level, and sat down. He motioned Smithers to do likewise.
Sighing heavily, Smithers sat, and folded his hands between his knees.
"So, now that you've got me alone, what do you have to say?" Smithers glanced at his watch. "I don't mean to be impatient, but I can't be gone too long."
Burns shook his head. "It won't take a long time to say." He looked up into Smithers' face. "Do you know why I sent you away?"
Smithers shrugged. "You said I was nothing to you."
Burns held up a hand. "No, Waylon. I never said that. You said that."
"Fine," Smithers shifted his hands to the marble bench, and rocked back and forth.
"No, it's clearly not 'fine' Smithers." Burns sighed and looked up at the lurid sky. "Do you know what I saw tonight?"
"A disobedient employee making a fool out of himself?"
Burns made a face. "I wasn't talking about Preston. I was talking about you!"
Smithers leaned forward, then back. "I know. So was I."
"You see," Burns held up his hands. "There you go again! Always with the self-defeating attitude! You tell me I belittle you, and yes, I'll admit, I have. But you do it to yourself as well." Burns jabbed a bony finger against Smithers' head. "You're the one who lets anything negative that I've ever said live, rent-free, up in there." He tapped Smithers' head again. "I understand it, yes, I've not always been kind to you, nor appreciated everything that you do for me, but it's not that I don't notice."
Smithers said nothing, merely hung his head and regarded Burns from the corner of his eyes.
"I loved you," Smithers whispered softly.
Burns lowered his gaze and stared at his feet. "I know."

["The Unfolding of Waylon Smithers," Chapter 17 - www.fanfiction.net/s/11844152/… ]

Description
Realistic-style Monty Burns and Waylon Smithers. An illustration from "The Unfolding of Waylon Smithers," sepia-toned, and using one of my own photo of Corning Tower, the Egg, and pools of The Plaza for the background.
_____
Burns lead him down to the Plaza, past the reflecting pools, to the marble steps of the museum. The stairway was wide, going up to the promenade he'd stood on early in the day as the chopper landed.
The stairs were uniquely designed. They also functioned as stadium style seating. From there, one could sit and look out over the Plaza to the capitol building at the far end. Burns led Smithers up to the top row of seats, several stories above the street level, and sat down. He motioned Smithers to do likewise.
Sighing heavily, Smithers sat, and folded his hands between his knees.
"So, now that you've got me alone, what do you have to say?" Smithers glanced at his watch. "I don't mean to be impatient, but I can't be gone too long."
Burns shook his head. "It won't take a long time to say." He looked up into Smithers' face. "Do you know why I sent you away?"
Smithers shrugged. "You said I was nothing to you."
Burns held up a hand. "No, Waylon. I never said that. You said that."
"Fine," Smithers shifted his hands to the marble bench, and rocked back and forth.
"No, it's clearly not 'fine' Smithers." Burns sighed and looked up at the lurid sky. "Do you know what I saw tonight?"
"A disobedient employee making a fool out of himself?"
Burns made a face. "I wasn't talking about Preston. I was talking about you!"
Smithers leaned forward, then back. "I know. So was I."
"You see," Burns held up his hands. "There you go again! Always with the self-defeating attitude! You tell me I belittle you, and yes, I'll admit, I have. But you do it to yourself as well." Burns jabbed a bony finger against Smithers' head. "You're the one who lets anything negative that I've ever said live, rent-free, up in there." He tapped Smithers' head again. "I understand it, yes, I've not always been kind to you, nor appreciated everything that you do for me, but it's not that I don't notice."
Smithers said nothing, merely hung his head and regarded Burns from the corner of his eyes.
"I loved you," Smithers whispered softly.
Burns lowered his gaze and stared at his feet. "I know."

["The Unfolding of Waylon Smithers," Chapter 17 - www.fanfiction.net/s/11844152/… ]