A/N: Aha! It's time for a new chapter! Who knows how long this one will take me…but I'll get it down, I swear. I love this story too much.

Chapter 10

*beep*

Molly looked up from her copy of Jane Eyre that she had to read over winter break. An IM screen had popped up on her computer screen. Putting down her book, she trudged over to the computer to check it out.

dancing banana: I'm bored.

Molly smiled to herself. Cracking her knuckles, she started to formulate some sort of witty comeback to the chocolatier's statement.

Faded Galaxia: Well, maybe you shouldn't have shipped Charlie out. He would have kept you company.

Zing.

There was a pause. Molly started to wonder if Willy had gotten offline after her comment.

dancing banana: Touché.
Faded Galaxia: Serves you right.
dancing banana: Well, for him to be 'the next Willy Wonka', he needs to go do that stuff by himself…he's gone on enough expeditions with me. Besides, he has a way of getting a hold of me if things go wrong.
dancing banana: And ZIP! I'll be there.
dancing banana: So no worries.
dancing banana: :)

Pause.

dancing banana: So…I'm bored.

Molly smirked. He was so obvious.

Faded Galaxia: What do you want me to do about it?
dancing banana: Well…are you bored, too?
Faded Galaxia: Uhh…

Molly looked at her Jane Eyre book, and then back at the screen.

Faded Galaxia: A little. I'm reading Jane Eyre, and it's good, but I don't feel like reading today.
dancing banana: Ok. We're both bored. What do people do when they're bored?

Another smirk. Obvious.

Faded Galaxia: Uhh….I don't know, what?
dancing banana: They hang out, silly! You should come over.
Faded Galaxia: …it's snowing. Really hard.
dancing banana: *sigh*
dancing banana: Well, fine. I'll come get you.
Faded Galaxia: You're going to bring the limo out here?
dancing banana: My goodness, your beret must suck the brains from your head.
dancing banana: No, I'm going to drive my car.
Faded Galaxia: ….You have a car?
dancing banana: You'll see.
dancing banana: :)

dancing banana has signed off.

"Shit!" Molly jumped up from the chair, grabbed her book, and ran into her room. She scoured her closet, looking for something cute to wear. When she didn't find anything, she ran into Miranda's room and went through her closet.

"Uhh, Molly?" She turned around to see Miranda sitting on her bed, Sherri in her lap, giving Molly a quizzical look. "What are you doing?"

"Oh my God, sorry!" She jumped over to Miranda, gave her a hug, and patted Sherri on the head. Then, quicker than she had jumped over to them, she ran back to the closet and started throwing cute shirts on the floor. "I need something cute to wear."

"What you're wearing is cute." And it was – she was wearing her Smithereens t-shirt, dark blue flare jeans, and her trademark beret. But Willy was coming to see her. Her. Just her. No one else. She needed to look her best.

"Besides, what do you need it for?"

'Shit. Make something up.'

"Uhh…my friend Eric is coming to get me. I really like him. I want to impress him." Good cover. Molly pulled out a flowy emerald green top and put it up to her torso. It went well with her dark blue jeans. "Can I borrow this?"

Miranda shook her head and waved her hand nonchalantly. "Yeah, whatever. Just don't ruin it."

"Eee! Thank you!" Molly gave Miranda another hug and bolted to her room, quickly putting the shirt on. Upon looking at herself in the mirror, she found that it did wonders for her. Not only did it make her look more dressed up, it brought out the red in her hair and the green in her eyes. It was also flattering in such a way that it made her look like she had a butt. 'Yes,' she thought, turning around, looking at herself. 'This is perfect.'

*beep*

"Eee!" Molly ran back into her room and checked the computer screen.

dancing banana: I'm here. Come outside.
Faded Galaxia: How are you IMming me in your car?
dancing banana: Cell phone. Duh.
dancing banana: Grab your coat, it's cold and snowy.

"Okay, I'm going out! Be back later!" Molly grabbed her uniform coat (it was so warm, it seemed like the perfect choice) and bolted out the door. She stopped on the threshold, though, because she didn't see his car. All she saw was a station wagon that her and her sister would affectionately call a "Woody" – it was one of those white ones with the faux wood paneling on the side. It was only after further inspection up and down the road that she realized that that station wagon was the only one on the road.

"What the hell…" She cautiously walked up to it, holding her beret on her head so that the wind wouldn't take it away. Leaning down, she looked in the window…only to see Willy Wonka giving her a toothy grin. He excitedly motioned for her to come in the car. Molly smiled, shaking her head.

"This looks like something I'd get for my first car," she said, sliding in on the leather seats, kicking the snow off her boots as she did.

"This was my first car," he said casually, adjusting his mirror. "I've just taken really good care of it. 160,000 kilometers on it, and it still runs like a dream." He shifted the car in drive and started to drive off. "So, aren't you going to ask me how I knew where you live?"

"Uhh, no, I wasn't planning on it, but I'll humor you. How'd you know?"

"Charlie." He smiled slyly. "He told me the general area. I figured it out by the Brighton Academy sign in the window." Molly turned around and looked. Sure enough, there was a sign for her wonderful school in the window that she had never noticed.

"Huh. I never noticed that."

"Well, anyways, it kind of surprised me that you lived all the way out here, and yet you're over at my factory all the time. You practically live there instead of here anymore."

"I like it better in the factory." Molly put her hands behind her head, closing her eyes, trying to keep back her blush. "It's a lot more fun than my actual life."

"Yeah, life is better in there…I've forgotten how dumb people are when they drive. It's been a while."

"Your license is valid, right?"

"Of course!" A billfold appeared out of nowhere and hit Molly in the nose. "See? Look for yourself." Sure enough, Willy's driver's license was valid. Strangely, though, that was the only thing in it.

"I don't like to carry anything else around with me- OH COME ON!" Willy hit the steering wheel in frustration. The visibility was rather low, and a car had just cut in front of them, hitting its brakes and almost causing a crash. "Stupid jackass…sorry," he looked over at Molly, who was wide-eyed with amazement at hearing Willy yell and swear like that, "I get a little road rage."

"I can see that." She handed him his billfold back, with which he stuffed back in his jeans- JEANS? – pocket. Upon further inspection, she discovered that he was actually dressed in regular people clothing – a long sleeved, deep purple t-shirt, light colored jeans, and a pair of black boots. The only thing unusual looking about him was his silly haircut and those latex gloves on his hands.

"You're wearing regular clothes."

"Gotta be inconspicuous when I'm on the road. Can you imagine someone seeing me in how I normally dress driving around? It would cause so many accidents. Plus, my hat is too big for the roof of the car."

"True. I never thought of that." Molly looked out her passenger side window at the countryside. It reminded her of the day on the train…only everything was white instead of wet. Her hand involuntarily flew up to the scar on the top of her head. She started to rub it.

"You okay?"

"What?" Molly realized what she was doing, and quickly stopped. "Yeah, yeah, I'm fine." She noticed he tensed up when their eyes met that time. "Are you okay?"

He took a deep breath. "Can I ask you something?"

Her heart fluttered. "Yeah, sure. Anything."

"Do you…" he looked both ways as he turned left. "Do you think this is…you know…weird?"

"I don't follow."

He sighed. "Well, you know…I'm old…you're…well…not old…"

"You're not old."

Willy laughed rather loudly. "You're funny. I am too old."

"No, you're not. And no, I don't think it's weird." To be truthful, she hadn't really thought about it. It was quite obvious to her that she had a huge thing for him, but his age hadn't really come into play in her mind. He couldn't be more than 10 years older than her…could he?

"How old are you, anyways?"

Willy parked the car in a garage behind the factory, shut the car off, and turned to her, a smile creeping up on his face. "Do you really want to know?"

Molly nodded.

"37." He unbuckled his seat belt and quickly got out of the car.

Molly sat there in shock. 37? 37?

'Shit. He is kind of old.'

"You are fast," Willy said as he collapsed on the mint grass in the huge candy room. With one arm stretched over his torso, he wiped his forehead with the other one, careful to avoid his latex-covered hand. Molly stood over him, hands on her hips, a huge grin on her face.

"I told you!" She sat down next to him, facing the chocolate river. "You just didn't believe me."

"You have to be the fastest girl alive."

"I did break a record," Molly laid down with her hands behind her head. "That wasn't even me trying. You're out of shape."

"It's all the candy." Willy giggled, rolling over on his side to face Molly. Just looking in his violet eyes made Molly melt like chocolate on a sunny day. 'God,' she thought, 'now I'm thinking in candy metaphors.'

"Do you actually eat your candy?"

Willy gave her a quizzical look. "Well, of course I do. I make it, don't I? Candy's my thing. I enjoy it. So yeah, I eat it." He yanked out a piece of grass and stuck it in his mouth. "See? I eat it."

"Cool," She replied, closing her eyes. The grass made the air smell like mint, but their was a faint scent of chocolate and peanuts near her. That was him, no doubt. Molly's mind began to tick…

'Oh my God, I'm seriously in love with him.'

There was no denying it. She knew it was true. She was noticing all the little things about him…like the way the right side of his mouth always smiled wider than his left…the way his eyes twinkled when he was thinking of something clever…and the way he lightly blushed every time he saw her.

Wait…could that mean…

She opened her eyes and looked to her side. Willy had gotten up and was now standing by the chocolate river, no doubt bored since she stopped talking. Even with how much older he was, he still had the attention span of a 7 year old boy. Smiling to herself, she got up and walked over to him, hesitating slightly before making a move and putting her hand on his shoulder. He flinched, but only out of surprise – she could tell because he smiled when he realized who it was.

"Everything okay?"

He nodded. "Yeah, everything's fine. I just got bored."

She laughed. "That's what I thought. I could chase you again."

'Oh God…those eyes…don't blush…don't blush…don't…shit, too late. God. Why is he so dang pretty?'

"No, that's all right." He stretched. "I'm getting too old for that."

"You're still not old, you know."

"Yes, I am."

"No, you're not."

He pointed to his head. "I have gray hair. I'm old."

They stood there, looking at the river for almost a minute before Willy suddenly touched Molly's arm. "Tag! You're it!" He took off through the room and down the hallway.

"Get back here, Wonka! I'll kill you!"

And here, dear Reader, is where we come upon the 'happy fun time montage'. You know how they do it in movies – they show the good times between two or more people. Well, Willy and Molly's good times went on through Christmas and into the New Year. The entire time, Molly told Miranda that she was hanging out with Eric. And, the whole time, Molly fell deeper and deeper in love with the chocolatier.

The only issue she had was finding something to get him for Christmas. She did have a brilliant idea, though - she had had her camera in her bag one day, and, while she was out taking pictures of the flowers outside of the factory, Willy came up behind her and poked her. She quickly snapped a picture of the two of them, much to his dismay (and secret liking, she hoped). She bought a blank frame from the local drug store and made a cutesy kindergarten-like frame for the picture (complete with glitter and glued-on sequins), and gave that to him as his present. He seemed incredibly happy with it, which made Molly turn as red as a tomato. He got her a gorgeous - and obviously expensive - necklace with a small emerald pendant. She never took it off from that day forward.

Towards the end of her vacation, they spent nearly every day together. Miranda made her stay home for New Year's, saying with a crazy motherly voice that she was 'spending too much time with that Eric boy', and asking when she was going to meet him. Molly just smiled and said, "Eventually," which made her sister throw a pillow at her.

The last day of her vacation was a beautifully warm day; so she decided to walk to the factory. It was a bit of a distance, but she didn't mind – anything to go see her Willy.

"God, I need to stop that," she said out loud as she crossed into town. "He's not even mine."

"You're crazy," some person shouted at her from their car window, "Stop talking to yourself!"

She covered her eyes with her hands. "Oh God…" Looking around, she ducked into the retro store that she had bought 'Quadrophenia' from. The vinyl started calling to her, and she immediately got lost in the sea of black plastic discs.

"You've got a phone call, you've got a phone call, you've got a phone – ANSWER IT!" Molly jumped. Looking at the time, she saw it was 5:30. She had been in that store for 3 hours.

'Shit! I'm so late!' She had told Willy she'd be over at 3.

"Hello?" She ran out of the store and started booking it to the factory.

"Hey, is everything all right?" It was Willy. He sounded concerned. Her heart fluttered.

"Yeah, everything's fine. I was in a record store, and- "

"Ah, say no more. I lose track in them myself. Be careful on your way over here, okay?"

"Sure thing. I'll be there in like…15 minutes."

"Okay."

Awkward pause.

"Bye." He quickly hung up. Molly looked at her phone, and then shut it, breaking into a run. She tapped into her inner chi.

"Daddy, please! Stop!" Molly screamed as her dad hit her again. He had waited for her mother to take Marie to singing lessons before he went after her.

"You broke a record, hmm? Did something great, didn't you? Now you think you deserve nice treatment? Do you?"

"No! No, I don't! It just happened…" Molly cowered in the corner, already feeling some blood drip down from a fresh cut on her face. "I thought you'd be proud of me."

"PROUD?" He hit her several more times. She collapsed in a heap, sobbing. "I never wanted you or your disgusting sister. Marie is the only one worth praising in this house."

She shook her head to get the memory out of her head when a new one replaced it.

"Happy birthday Molly!"

"Thank you, Uncle Jack!" Molly hugged her uncle, secretly wishing he were her dad. Looking over, she could see her father's dark eyes boring into her again. "Hi, Aunt Sarah!"

"Happy birthday dear," she said, her eyes twinkling. "Where is that darling sister of yours?"

"Probably out getting drunk," her dad said, scoffing.

"Robert," her mom said, trying to hush him up.

"You know it's true."

"Miranda's not here," Molly started, feeling slightly anxious, "but I want to show you guys my new posters that grandma got me. Come on!" She grabbed both of their hands and led them up the stairs to her room.

Uncle Jack closed the door behind him when they were in the room. "Did he hurt you again?"

Molly nodded, tears springing to her eyes. "Yeah." She pointed to the now-scarred cut on her arm. She had a few other bruises that she wanted to show him, but he ran over and hugged her before she could get any other words out. "We'll get you out. I promise" Aunt Sarah came over and hugged her. All three of them cried.

"Finally, you're here!" Willy said when he saw her. He was wearing a deep burgundy sweater and black slacks. His hat was nowhere to be found…AND NEITHER WERE HIS GLOVES. Molly's mouth nearly hit the floor, but she kept her jaw firm and only nodded. "Come on in. I was getting worried." She felt him lightly touch her back, leading her in. Her stomach suddenly got queasy with butterflies.

'I love him. I love him. I love him.'

Molly couldn't ask for a more perfect way to end her vacation. There she was, sitting with Willy Wonka in front of a large fireplace, drinking hot chocolate that he himself had made especially for her. After a few sips of the amazing drink, she started to get really hot, so she took off her beret, shaking out her hair as she did so. She could have sworn that he was watching her, but, when she glanced at him, he was staring at the fire.

"So, how is it?"

"Hmm?" She put her beret in her backpack, and then returned to her hot chocolate.

"The hot chocolate."

She gave him the biggest smile she could. "The best I've ever had."

He leaned back in pride, a smirk on his face. The right side was up more than the left. "Good. I've still got it. I haven't had to make any for anyone else in quite some time. Sometimes it's hard to figure out what people like. I've been studying you, though, so I know fairly well."

"What am I, an anthropology project now?" She said with a giggle.

"No. I just study people." He put his cup down and looked at her. "Do you know what's in that drink right there?"

She looked down in the cup. "Uhh…hot chocolate."

He rolled his eyes, still smirking. "Yes, but not just any hot chocolate. It's your own special hot chocolate." He cleared his throat. "Milk chocolate, honey, skim milk, and a few dashes of both white chocolate and hazelnut."

"That would be why it's perfect, then." She took another sip, analyzing the flavors on her tongue. "I can definitely taste the honey and the hazelnut. It's perfect."

'I love him.'

"So what's in yours?"

"Mine?"

She nodded. He looked down at his cup, immediately appearing shy. "Well, I don't really have a set one for myself yet. I'm still trying to get my own perfect mix." He took a sip. "This is close, but it needs more chili powder in it." He took another sip. "Yeah, that's probably what it is." He shrugged. "I guess I can read other people better than I can read myself."

"Really." She put her cup down on a nearby table and stared into his eyes. "What have you read about me, then?"

He looked at her for what seemed like an eternity, and then put his cup down, leaning closer to her. "I can tell a lot of things about you, Molly. I can tell that you wear your beret as a sort of reminder of the better things in your life. I can tell that you did not have a great upbringing, evident by the scar up on your forehead that you try so hard to cover up." His gaze lingered for a moment before he continued. "I can also tell that there are many things weighing you down – many things that you feel like you are the cause of. I'm here to tell you that you're not the cause of any of them, whatever they may be."

Tears started to prick at Molly's eyes. 'He's right.'

"You should have been a psychiatrist or something."

He laughed a little. "I'm just good at that stuff, I guess. Always have been. A long time ago, when I used to actually hang out with people," he paused for emphasis, "everyone used to come to me with their problems, and I'd help them work them out. That was back when I worked for Cadbury, though…so that was a long time ago." He leaned back, resting his head on the chair behind him. "God, I'm so old!"

"Stop that! I'll throw this hot chocolate on you." She grabbed her cup threateningly.

He looked back at her. "Seriously, Molly. When were you born?"

"1992. Why?"

Willy did some math calculations in his head. "This factory was finished a year after you were born. I'm old."

"Whatever." She took a long drink. "So what was it like working for Cadbury?"

"Oh, I didn't really care about it then. It was more of a way to earn some money, since I needed it to get my own store and to make my own stuff. I was more of an actor back then, anyways." He stopped, his eyes suddenly four times their normal size. "Did I just tell you that?"

Molly laughed. "You were an actor?"

He hung his head. "Yeah…I hung around with a group of beatniks who put on plays and stuff. Really, it was just a way for us to get away from our parents." He paused for a bit. "I had already been a runaway for a few years at that point, so it wasn't really any different for me."

"Wait, what?" He ran away from home? Seriously?

He nodded. "I ran away when I was twelve. I became friends with Joe Mitchell when I was sixteen, almost seventeen. He got me in the group after a little poking and prodding."

"I ran away, too."

Willy gave her a sad look. "I'm sorry. I know it's hard. It will get better, I promise."

She nodded. "It's been pretty good so far. No one's tried to find me yet, so I think I'm in the clear. It's been half a year, anyways," she took a drink. "But back to your acting thing. What plays did you guys do?"

"We did a lot of stuff by local authors, but the big ones we did were, umm…." he ran a hand through his hair, "The Glass Menagerie….A Streetcar Named Desire…Rumours…and Hair. That was a big one."

She nearly spit out her hot chocolate. "You were in HAIR?"

He nodded, almost in shock by her reaction. "Yeah, I was. I was actually one of the leads."

"Did you…you know…"

"Get naked on stage?" He smirked again. Right side.

'I love him.'

"That's for you to wonder about and me to know." He winked at her, and then turned back to the fireplace. They sat in silence for a while until a thought crossed Molly's mind.

"So you can sing, then?"

"Sure."

"Would you sing for me?"

It was his turn to nearly spit out his hot chocolate. "What? Right now?"

"Why not? I'd play the guitar for you right now if I had one."

"That could be arranged."

"We're talking about you, not me. What do you need, music or something?"

"Music would be nice, but I'm still not going to sing."

"Please?"

"No."

"Please?"

"No."

"Please?"

He shook his head. "I'm not singing. Not tonight."

"So, does that mean you might later?"

"Possibly, if you behave."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

His smirk never left his face. "Whatever you want it to mean. I'll go put on some music. I can hear the ringing in my ears. Never a good thing." He got up and walked over to the dark side of the room. Molly could hear him fiddling with a few things before "For What It's Worth" by Buffalo Springfield softly rang through the room.

"That's better."

"You picked this song on purpose. You can't really sing to this song."

"You caught me." He took a sip of his drink. "Definitely more chili powder."

They sat in silence until the song finished and faded into "Lay Lady Lay" by Bob Dylan. 'Another song you can't really sing to,' Molly thought as she looked over at Willy. He looked absolutely perfect bathed in the amber light of the fire. His violet eyes were sparkling with happiness as he stared into the fire, drinking his hot chocolate. When he finished, he looked down at the bottom of the cup, shrugged, put it down on the floor near him, and turned to her. "Wanna dance?"

"I thought you would never ask," slipped out of her mouth before she could control it.

'Thought you would never ask? What the hell is that supposed to mean? And why is he asking you to dance?' Her thought process paused as the walked to the middle of the room. He took one hand in his, and put one hand on her lower back. His skin was cool and soft. Molly felt herself blush slightly as she looked into his eyes and found him looking right back at her, eyes glittering even more than before.

'I love him.'

"Lay lady lay/lay across my big brass bed," Bob sang out as they moved almost silently across the floor. Willy was just full of surprises, as Molly was coming to find out. He was a great dancer. She had two left feet. She stepped on his feet a few times, which made her really nervous about his reaction. He just laughed it off.

The distance between them gradually grew smaller until she was laying her head on his chest. He didn't seem to care, since he gave her hand a slight squeeze when she did so. Molly could hear his heart through his sweater, and she was almost overcome with the love she had for him in her own heart.

'I just want to kiss him. That's all I want to do. I love him. I love him.'

"I love you," she accidentally whispered, lost in the moment. He didn't stop dancing. She was hoping he hadn't heard until she felt his vocal chords rumble.

"I love you, too."

Her heart leapt in her chest. Did she just hear that? Did that just happen?

She looked up at him, and was shocked to see that he had an incredibly sad look on his face. He looked as though he were about to cry. Tears pricked at her own eyes. "That's why I think you should go."

She dropped his hand in shock. "Wh-what?"

He put a hand over his eyes and turned around. "Please, Molly. Just go."

"I…I don't…"

"Please."

Molly stood there for a few more seconds, and then did what he asked her to do. She got a few steps outside of the factory before she collapsed in a heap, sobbing from the pain of her heart breaking.

A/N: Okay, so, I almost started crying writing that chapter. Seriously. I didn't want to do it, but I did it…it's an integral part to the story. Trust me.

Sorry for the long absence on this story! I loved it too much to let it die. ^_^