AN: Welcome one and all to my first CatCF fanfic. This story is mostly based on the 2005 movie, although the delicious Mr. Wonka is in some ways a combination of both Depp's and Wilder's Wonkas. I hope you enjoy! Reviews are greatly, GREATLY appreciated!
Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to anything in this story other than my own original characters. I'm just a fan.
"So you want to insure the entire factory, Mr. Wonka?"
"That's right."
"I see. And may I ask why you've never insured your factory before?"
For one brief moment, the insurance agent thought she saw a strange look come over Mr. Willy Wonka's eyes. In that small instance, the woman had been almost positive that he'd regarded her with a deeply calculating and analytical look, one that even the most cunning businessman could never dream of emulating.
If it had been there, which she even now greatly doubted, it had disappeared with incredible speed. The strange man, though clearly an adult, was looking at her with childish simplicity now.
"Well, Miss…"
"Chantilly, Rowena Chantilly."
"Huh. Well that's a funny name."
Raising a tawny eyebrow, Rowena fought the urge to rebuke his comment. But, then again, it was true; she did have an unfortunately strange name. But when your father was an Ivanhoe enthusiast, you really had no choice but to live with the name you were given. Such was Rowena's case, and even though she had been subjected to ruthless teasing her entire life, she'd never once been tempted to change her name. She was Rowena Chantilly, and there was nothing to be done for it.
"Well, Miss Rowena Chantilly," Mr. Wonka continued, his purple-gloved hands placed atop his cane, "the thought never crossed my mind. I've been far too busy to think of silly things like insurance."
"Silly things…" Rowena muttered in disbelief, half certain that this striking fellow was mad. If his childlike behavior wasn't enough, his appearance certainly supported the notion. Beneath a long crimson velvet jacket he was dressed head to toe in crisp black. Atop his chocolate colored hair sat a dark top hat, shadowing his distinctly pale face. She'd never seen anyone like him anywhere at all.
"Besides, my Oompa-Loompas are so terribly efficient, I've never once worried about things growing out of control around here."
"Oompa-Loompas?" the confused woman mumbled, her rosy lips struggling to form the strange words.
"You really shouldn't mumble, Miss Rowena Chantilly. It's most unbecoming of a young lady."
Quirking her head to the side, she could only stare, mouth slightly agape. Just how was it that she'd been assigned to this case? Only hours before, she'd been in her comfortable office in London, sifting through files and typing up reports as per usual. When Geoffrey Milton had called her, the last thing she'd expected was that she'd been singled out to journey to the famed Willy Wonka Chocolate Factory to determine if it would be a wise decision for her agency to insure the monolithic factory.
It was going to be a very, very long day.
"But Mr. Bucket, you see, has convinced me that it would be in everyone's best interest to have the whole place insured." Mr. Wonka continued without pausing, a strange grin glued on his face. If he noticed Rowena's discomfort or confusion, he didn't show.
"I'm sorry," she interrupted swiftly. "Who is Mr. Bucket?"
"Oh, yes, how silly of me! Mr. Bucket is Charlie's father."
Charlie's father, of course. How silly of me, Rowena thought dryly. "I'm afraid you'll have to elaborate a bit more, Mr. Wonka."
Wonka's bright blue eyes regarded her curiously. It was clear that he thought Rowena was the strange one, as though it was impossible for her not to understand his disjointed explanations.
"Charlie's father, Mr. Bucket is Charlie's father." Seeing that the woman's dark eyes held no hint of recognition, he spoke slowly, exaggerating each of his words as though English was a second language to her. "Charlie is my protégé and friend. He is my partner here in the factory. Paaar-teh-ner."
"Really, Mr. Wonka!" Rowena burst out, exasperated. "I understand what a partner is, thank you very kindly." Smoothing her hands over her flared black business skirt, she sought for some control. It wasn't like her to lose patience with a person her company would potentially insure. But this man…he was unlike anyone she'd ever known.
"So a Mr. Bucket is your partner?"
"No, not Mr. Bucket. Charlie's my partner. Mr. Bucket is his father."
"But isn't Charlie's last name Bucket as well, then?"
"Of course, silly."
Taking a deep calming breath, Rowena paused to toss her silken blonde waves over her shoulder. "Then it would be safe to call Charlie Mr. Bucket, would it not?"
"No. He's Charlie."
"All right then, Charlie is your partner?"
The man had the audacity to clap, his face glowing with excitement. "That's right, Miss Rowena Chantilly! Now you've got it! Very good, very good indeed!"
"Right then," Rowena said as calmly as she could. "Then you've decided to insure your factory on the behest of your partner's father?"
"Right you are."
Nodding succinctly, she paused to jot a few notes on the steno pad she clasped in her hands:
Mr. Wonka seeks insurance on the behalf of partner's father. Behavior is extremely odd. More research of Mr. Wonka is advised.
"What are you writing?" Willy's smooth tones interrupted the silence.
"Just some notes, Mr. Wonka."
"Ah, I see. What do they say?"
Flipping the cover so that it obscured her written notes, she tucked the pad into the leather briefcase that lay beside her high heeled feet. "Just some simple notes to help me when I return to the office. They'll help us when we make our decision on whether or not we can insure your factory."
The heat was stifling, Rowena suddenly noticed. She was dressed in light business clothes, professional and feminine looking. Her silk pink cardigan was light enough, yet it was beginning to feel very much like a parka. In the massive entry hall that they stood in, she would have thought it more likely that a chill would have descended upon them and not oppressive heat.
"Is it always this warm?" she asked politely, glancing around.
"Oh, yes," Mr. Wonka assured her pleasantly, still eyeing the suitcase she'd slipped her steno pad into. "The Oompa-Loompas are much more comfortable this way. But if you'd follow me, I'm sure you'll be more comfortable in the next phase of my factory."
As he gestured with an oddly graceful arm, Rowena paused to grasp the handles of her briefcase before stepping in the direction he indicated. Mr. Wonka easily fell into step beside her, his strides much quicker than her own. She was naturally petite, easily a head or two shorter than the strange man even without his hat. Quickening her pace, she rushed along to keep up with him.
It took several long moments to reach the end of the vast corridor, and to her great astonishment, the doors that awaited them was no larger than that of a doll's house.
"Mr. Wonka…?" she asked unsteadily, glancing in his direction to find his eyes trained steadily upon her face. He was leaning over her slightly, his gaze strangely piercing.
"Very few people ever get the pleasure of seeing my factory," he told her solemnly, his suddenly sane and serious tone of voice shocking to the woman. "I hope you understand what a treat you're in for."
Swallowing, she could only not shakily, unable to tear her eyes free from his gaze. He held her paralyzed a moment more with his hypnotizing blue eyes, and then he looked away and she was free. Producing a large set of keys, Willy stooped over the little doors and placed a tiny key smoothly into the lock. With a loud click, the ground seemed to shift beneath them.
Bracing a hand on the wall, he slowly pushed the revealed doors open.
"Well then, my dear Miss Rowena Chantilly. Here we go.
