THE RULES OF ACQUISITION- PT3

By George Glisson
Burns/Smithers fan fic
Rated PG-13....so far...

PLEASE READ PART 1 FISRT!

WARNING: Slashyness ahead...it's one-sided, but it's still slashyness...

CHAPTER 3- PLAYING BY THE RULES.....

That night, Smithers tried his best to sleep but, for some reason, his eyes didn't want to stay shut. He looked over at the Rules of Acquisition, sitting innocently on his bedside table...waiting to be read...He shut off his light and turned around, but he could feel the rules sitting there...waiting for him; silently calling to him. He tried to ignore them, but he only ended up tossing and turning in his bed until, finally, he turned the light back on. He glared at the rules before picking them up. Just what was so tempting about reading a set of rules, anyways? Still, he found himself curiously opening the book.
There was a little blurb on the title page.
"The Rules of Acquisition: Printed with the permission of the Ferengi Commerce Authority (FCA). Licensed to Paramount/CBS."
"Hmm...wonder where Ferengi is..." Smithers mused aloud. Nevertheless, he turned the page and started reading the rules.
"Rule number 1: Once you have their money, you never give it back.
Rule number 2: Money is everything.
Rule number 3: Never spend more for an acquisition than you have to.
Rule number 4: Exploitation begins at home...."

Smithers read The Rules of Acquisition nearly the whole night, and he still was't done with it. He had fallen asleep thinking about the rules, and they dominated his dreams.

Rule number 16: a deal is a deal.
Rule number 98: every man has his price.
Rule number 33: it never hurts to suck up to the boss.
Rule number 20: Trouble comes in threes.

Smithers awoke with a start as his alarm clock blared out some random rock song on the radio. It was 5:30. He hopped out of bed and jogged into the kitchen. Hercules was waiting by the back door, so he let him out. He opened a can of dog food and poured it into Hercules' bowl, then added a scoop of dry food and mixed it up. He set it on the floor just as Hercules came back to the door, scratching at it. Smithers opened the door and watched Hercules scamper to his food bowl, sliding around on the slippery tile. Smithers had to laugh, even though Hercules did that nearly every morning.
Smithers yawned and walked back into his room. He took a quick shower, got dressed, and fixed himself a bagel before it was time to leave for Mr. Burns' house.

When they got to work, they started their normal routines. Mr. Burns shut himself up in his office, Smithers got his coffee and newspaper ready and brought them to him...it started out like any normal day...but after lunch, things started to get interesting.
Smithers was reading the rules and eating his ham and swiss sandwich.
"Rule number 111: Treat people in your debt like family...exploit them.
Rule number 112: Never have sex with the boss's sister."
At that, he snorted and shook his head. That was a rule he could follow. No one would want Mr. Burns' ugly sister anyways, especially not Smithers. He went on to the next rule.
"Rule number 113: Always have sex with the boss."
Wait....Smithers stopped reading. Had he just read that right? He blinked and rubbed his eyes before reading it again.
"Rule number 113: Always have sex with the boss."
Well...Now there was a rule he would love to follow....if only Mr. Burns would let him--
"Smithers! Get in here, now!" Mr. Burns barked through the wall, scattering Smithers' thoughts.He jumped, his heart pounding and his face flushed. He took a few deep breaths and got a drink of his water before he walked into Burns' office.
"Is...something...wrong, Sir?" Smithers asked as he neared Mr. Burns' chair. To Smithers relief, Mr. Burns seemed to be angry about the accounting books in his hands, and not at him.
"What do you mean, 'is something wrong, sir?'" Mr. Burns said in a mocking tone, "Of course there's something wrong, you nincompoop! Look at this...we've lost 10,000 dollars in the past four months!" He shoved the book in Smithers' face. "Why didn't you tell me about this?"
Smithers fumbled with the book and ended up dropping it on Burns' desk. "Well, to tell you the truth, sir, I wasn't informed either!" He said truthfully, in his own defense. He expected to get lectured about what his job truly was, but thankfully, Mr. Burns didn't press the matter.
"How could this have happened?" Burns got out of his chair and started pacing. "Someone could be stealing our business....but there isn't another power plant within miles of here!"
Smithers shrugged. "Well, there's one in Shelbyville and one in Capital City, but I don't think--"
Burns snapped to attention. "There's a nuclear power plant in Capital City?" He had stopped pacing and was now looking a bit more angry.
"Well...yes, sir." Smithers said, "But I don't think it has anything to do with--"
"When did this happen?" Burns demanded.
"Uhh...A few years ago sir...it was all over the news--"
Burns banged a fist on his desk. "I already have enough competition from Shelbyville as it is!" he snarled.
Smithers was pretty sure he knew where this was going...but he hoped he was wrong.
"What do you propose we do about it, sir? They already provide power to more than half of the poulation of capital city!"
Burns paused.
"Yess...more than half of the population..." He said, a smirk spreading across his face. Smithers could almost see the wheels turning in his head. Suddenly, Burns grabbed Smithers by the shoulders. "Smithers, I am going to purchase that power plant!"
Smithers gaped at him. "What!?"
"Yess..." Burns said, letting go of Smithers and turning to stare evilly out of his oversized windows. "Burns brand electricity will become an empire! Why, soon, I'll control the power of the entire state!" He said, spreading his arms and breaking into peals of maniacal laughter.
Suddenly, he stopped mid-laugh. "Well? What do you think?" He asked staring over his shoulder at Smithers.
Smithers looked down at the floor. "Uhh...w-well...I...I..I don't know if that's--"
"Excellent." Mr. Burns said, tenting his hands; no longer caring to listen to Smithers' stammering. "Pack your bags, Smithers, we're going to Capital City."
Smithers sighed in defeat. "Oh, boy..."
******************************************************************************
The next morning, Smithers found himself on the outskirts of Capital City, inside Forbes Nuclear Power Plant. As they walked through the plant to get to the owner's office, Smithers noticed how clean and professional the offices were...Carpeted floors, no cracked paint, no peeling wallpaper, no radioactive leaks...and the ceilings were spotless. Moreover, the offices were a good distance away from the plant itself. A handsome man with slick, short black hair and glasses walked up to them.
"Can I help you?" He asked stoically, sounding doubtful that they had permission to be there. Smithers noticed on his name tag that he was the safety inspector: Gary Tanneth.
"Uhm, Yes." Smithers started. "Could you direct us to--"
"Where's the owner of this place?" Demanded Mr. Burns, excitedly.
Gary raised an eyebrow, taken aback by Burns' outburst. He looked as though he was about to show them out when Smithers came to the rescue.
"I apologise, sir. My name is Waylon Smithers, and this is Mr. Burns, billionaire and owner of the Nuclear Power Plant in Springfield." He said, putting some weight behind Mr. Burns' credentials. "We have a business proposition for the owner. Would you take us to him?"
Gary hesitated, then nodded, sending a wary glance in Burns' direction. "Very well...follow me."
Burns looked at Smithers, surprised at how well he'd handled that...But he wasn't about to voice it. It's almost as if he's taking lessons from someone...Burns thought. Little did he know that he had a book of rules to thank.

With Burns' charm, 25,000,000 dollars, (and Smithers' help), their pitch to buy Forbes Power Plant met little resistance. By the end of the day, they found themselves speeding back to Springfield with the deed to Forbes Power Plant, and a new income that was sure to pay for the cost of buying the new power plant in less than 6 months.

"This calls for a little celebration, Smithers!" Burns said as they opened a bottle of Auchentoshan 21* back at Burns Manor.
"Heh, it sure does, sir..." Smithers said, hiding the fact that he thought Burns' scheme was a little too far out. Rule of Acquisition #45 came to mind: "Never confuse temptation with opportunity."
He shook the thought out of his head and poured the scotch, dropping three ice cubes into each glass. He almost never voiced his opinions about Burns' schemes unless he was sure they'd agree on them. He knew it felt wrong sometimes, but it wasn't like he had much of a choice if he wanted to keep his job.
"Ahh, Smithers...I can almost smell the money I'll be raking in by tomorrow morning..." Burns said, smirking and swirling his glass.
"Does this mean I'll get my Christmas bonus this year, sir?" Smithers joked, feigning hopefulness. He knew Burns hadn't given him a Christmas bonus in years...and he wasn't about to start now.
"Of course not. Smithers, I thought you knew me better than that." Burns said, giving Smithers an amused look.
Smithers laughed and look a sip of his scotch. "Just figured I'd ask, sir."
"Hmm." Burns said. He suddenly became very quiet, staring into his fireplace. Smithers saw something like...regret...flash across his eyes, but it only lasted a second. He put away the last of the scotch in his glass.
"Pour me another, will you, Smithers?"

As the evening passed by, Smithers realised he was a lot more relaxed than he had been these past couple of days. He also realised that he had drunk most of the bottle of scotch. That would explain why he was having trouble speaking...and focussing.....and thinking...much less remembering what happened two seconds ago.
Burns watched Smithers as he put away glass after glass of scotch. At first he was amused, listening to Smithers struggle not to lisp, but after the 12th glass, he started to get a bit worried. Only a depressed man would drink that much scotch in such short a time...and he didn't particularly want an  depressed, inebriated Smithers passing out on his living room floor.
"Slow down, Smithers.....are you even tasting it?" Burns said, prying the bottle out of Smithers' hands.
"Oh...You'rrright...I prolly sshouldn't...haveany more..." Smithers slurred, putting down his cup, which promptly fell to the floor. It didn't break, and it had nothing in it, but Burns quickly picked it up anyway.
"Smithers, you're drunk...I think it would be best for you to go home now..." Burns gestured towards Smithers with the cup. He was now more than just a little worried that he would have a passed-out Smithers on his rug in the morning.
Smithers laughed and hiccuped once. "I dunthink...that'ssssuch a good idea...ssir," Smithers slurred. "I would...crassch int'a tree if I d...dr..dried ta trive...Imean...tried ta drive." He laughed again, seeming amused at his own predicament. Burns frowned.
He let Smithers sit there for a while until he was sure he was sober enough to stand by himself.
While Burns was waiting, he searched his mind for more options, but there really were none.
He coudn't drive Smithers home. Considering his current scotch-induced buzz, not to mention his blatant disregard for traffic laws, he feared that they might end up in a worse situation than Smithers would if he were driving.
A taxi was out of the question. He didn't know how to operate the telephone machine very well, and Smithers was in no condition to call for a taxi himself.
Plus, there was no way he was putting Smithers on a bus in his condition.
Burns' hands were tied. The only options were to let him pass out on the floor, or put him in the guest room. He opted for the latter.
"Well," He said, getting up. "Follow me, you inebriated monkey. You need to get some rest."  He motioned for Smithers to get up.
"Hokai, ssir." Smithers slurred.
Smithers was now sober enough to get up, but walking was a whole new rodeo. As he stumbled towards Mr. Burns, he nearly tripped over his own feet. He hesitated, straitening himself up and catching a few of his bearings before he attempted to walk again.
Suprisingly, he made it up the stairs no problem, but he still had to hold on to the railing for dear life. When they got into the guest bedroom, Burns turned on the bed-side lamp and motioned for Smithers to come to the bed.
Smithers toddled forward, concentrating hard on where he put his feet.
"Lay down, Smithers, you need to--ACK!" When Burns spoke, Smithers' looked up, his concentration was broken and he fell right on top of the older man.
"S...ssorry...ssir" Smithers said, his face flushing. Oops...Damn...He thought. He didn't know what was clouding his mind more, the scotch or Mr. Burns' enticing smell...but he found himself slowly lowering his cheek to Burns' chest.
A soft, "Ohh..." escaped his lips.
"Smithers! What the devil are you doing? Get OFF OF ME!" Burns yelped. Smithers could hear the panic in Mr. Burns' voice, but he didn't want to move; he couldn't move. Not yet...
He inhaled deeply, taking in that smell that was Mr. Burns' alone. He nuzzled his face against Mr. Burns' chest, which was rising and falling rapidly.
"Mr...Burnss..." Smithers said softly.
"Smithers, GET OFF!" Burns cried. He attempted to pry Smithers off of him, but he was pinned. No matter how much he struggled against the younger man, he simply wasn't strong enough to make him budge.
"You..smell so...good...sir..." Smithers said, clutching needfully at Burns' lapels. As he pressed his ear against Burns' chest, he could hear his rapid heartbeat.
Burns was all but clawing at Smithers' jacket by now. "Wha--Smithers, if you don't get of off me this instant, I'll--"
"You'll what?" Smithers suddenly said, slowly looking up at the older man with a dreamy look on his face. Those eyes would have melted anyone, had it not been for the awkwardness of their situation.
"I-I...I'll....I'll--" Mr. Burns stammered. For some reason that was far beyond his comprehension, he found himself at a complete loss for words.
Smithers maneuvered himself further onto Mr. Burns, nuzzling his neck. He felt Burns try to flinch away. If Smithers were capable of rational thought at that moment, he would have been appalled at himself, but he simply couldn't think strait.
"Smithers..." Burns yelped, turning his head away. "Stop...this instant..."
"GAH..." He flinched and squeezed his eyes shut when he felt Smithers' tongue slowly trail up his neck.
"Smithers! GET OFF OF ME!" Burns yelled in a high voice, trying to wriggle free.
"Hold...still, ssir..." Smithers ragged voice whispered into Burns' ear, sending cold shivers up and down his spine. Smithers' hot, scotch-scented breath, coupled with the scratchy feeling of stubble against his neck, was just about too much for Burns to bear.
Please make him pass out, please make him pass out, oh lord, oh lord...PLEASE... His mind was racing. But, Smithers continued, now sucking on an incredibly sensitive spot on his neck. Smithers, I swear, if you give me a hickey, I will MURDER you...He found himself thinking. But Smithers didn't keep it up for that long. Instead, he was slowly trailing kisses up and down Burns' neck. Then he said something that startled Burns even more than before.
"I...love you...ssir....God, I...want you..so bad..."
Burns' eyes grew wide. Oh god! Was he serious?
Smithers shifted his weight, and Burns was now able to feel a considerable bulge in Smithers' pants. Burns nearly screamed like a girl. Smithers may have been drunk, but it was obvious that he was dead serious.
OH NO WAY IN HELL. Burns' mind screamed.
"GET OFF OF ME, SMITHERS!!" Burns yelled at the top of his lungs.
"Don't want to...it would...be against the rule..." Smithers said distractedly, slipping Burns' tie over his head.
"What rul--Smithers, don't you dare--"
"You know.....I can be as...satisfying as any woman...ssir..." Smithers interrupted, starting to unbutton Burns' shirt.
"I-I beg your pardon!?" Mr Burns said, taken aback. He had been trying, and failing, to stop Smithers from unbuttoning his shirt, but this comment made him stop short.
"I can even be...more satisfying...than a woman..." Smithers said, staring into Burns' eyes with a longing that Burns had never seen before. Nobody; no woman nor man, had ever looked at him with such desire before.
Burns was completely shocked. His assistant, a man who had worked for him for over 30 years, was all over him, telling him just how much he wanted him. Of course, Burns had had his suspicions about Smithers' sexuality, but never had the matter been so bluntly confirmed as now. This topped the apocalypse scare.
Burns felt like he was going to be the one to pass out.
However, he was shaken from his thoughts when he felt Smithers' lips on his bare chest. Smithers was also trying to take off his jacket.
"SMITHERS!" He screamed. "GET OFF! NOW!"
He suddenly noticed that Smithers had stopped kissing his chest. He was blinking, breathing very heavily, and wore an exhausted expression on his face. His cheeks were so flushed, it was apparent that he had a fever. Suddenly, a drop of blood dripped from his nose, and he collapsed on the blankets next to Burns.
Mr. Burns leapt up, grabbed a tissue from the nightstand, shoved it in Smithers' nostril, and ran out of the room, slamming the door behind him.
Burns leaned up against the door, sliding down to the floor. He was shaking, and his heart felt as though it was beating its way out of his chest.
He took several deep breaths to try to calm himself, but it simply wasn't helping. He was nervously raking his fingers through his hair...it was all he could do not to not to hyper-ventilate. His mind was running a mile a minute.
Ok....so that was...he was..just drunk, Monty....He..didn't mean any of it......OH who am I kidding!? You SAW that look in his eyes...you FELT his...bulge--OF COURSE HE MEANT IT. OH GOD OH GOD. Why me? This isn't happening, this is NOT happening...oh......Calm down, Monty, or you'll give yourself a splitting headache...or..have another heart attack or..something....remember, the doctor said you can't have another heart attack, or you'll die...WHAT, IS SMITHERS TRYING TO KILL ME OR SOMETHING? I'm an OLD MAN! I can't take this kind of stress.....well, At least he didn't kiss me on the lips, then I'd probably--WAIT what am I SAYING? I don't care WHERE he kissed me or NOT!! That was just UNCALLED for!!
Burns buried his face in his hands. He felt like it was the end of the world.
He then realised in a moment of horror that he'd left his tie in the room, doing nothing to help calm his frazzled nerves.
Screw the tie! You can't make me go back in there! A part of him cried.
But what if he wakes up and finds the tie there next to him!? another part of him worried. What sort of ideas about tonight do you want him to get?
Burns shuddered and stood up. He took a deep, but shaky breath and slowly opened the door, peeking into the room. To his relief, Smithers was out cold. It appeared as though the excitement had been too much for him as well. Burns opened the door all the way, flinching and glancing in Smithers' direction when the door creaked. Smithers didn't move. Burns sighed in relief and patted his chest. He creeped up to the bed and quickly grabbed his tie, turning off the lamp and rushing out of the room as if there were a monster in the closet.

Mr. Burns finally settled into bed after having calmed down a bit. He still held onto Bobo tightly as he pulled the covers around him and tucked himself in.
He remembered Smithers saying something about a rule, but he couldn't, for the life of him, think of what sort of "rule" he was referring to, and he wasn't sure he even wanted to know.

He found himself easily dozing off, but considering the taxing experience he'd just had, he couldn't really blame himself.
He just hoped and prayed that tomorrow, Smithers wouldn't remember any of it.