AN: As far as updating goes, I think I'd better stop making promises to update sooner...it seems to backfire on me. I'll spare you any detailed excuses, but let's just say that summer vacation isn't as carefree as it was when I was younger. I had hoped to have more time on my hands, but oh well. Even with the freetime I have had I've been taking my time on this chapter, going through several revisions before I felt ready to post it.
As always, thanks to my readers and reviewers. I greatly appreciate it when you take the time to review, just to help me concentrate and focus my efforts on improving my story and updating in a more timely manner. Also, I've been thinking lately that I would probably greatlyf benefit from the help of a beta reader. If anyone is feeling up to the task please feel free to contact me!
"Where to?"
Rowena started from her momentary stupor. "I'm sorry, what?"
"Where to?" Willy repeated, gesturing to the walls of neatly labeled buttons all around them.
"But I thought…" After the first break-in attempt, their tour had been postponed. She had naturally assumed that Willy would insist on postponing the tour again now that there had been another attempted break-in. "I thought our tour would disrupt the Oompa-Loompas' investigation," she told him frankly.
"No, I don't think so." Before she had been confused and a little flabbergasted, having just endured the brunt of the factory owner's suspicions of her involvement in the strange break-in. Now Rowena felt her blood begin to boil, her temper rising dangerously.
"What do you mean you don't think so? What was so different about the break-in yesterday from the one today? Why, I could have been home yesterday evening as planned, and none of…of this would have happened!"
"None of what, exactly?" His voice was low, his gaze intense. Charlie may as well not have been in the elevator with the pair. Neither of them seemed to notice he was there.
"This! This! All of it! You know, there was sanity in my life before I came here! Everything was structured, ordered, and neat! There were no flashbacks, no unpleasant memories dogging me at every turn, no nightmares! And had we finished the tour yesterday as scheduled, everything would still be structured, ordered, and…and neat!"
By the time she finished her little tirade she was all but shouting, but Willy did not look offended in any way. There was a kind of light in his eyes, as though he was smiling without his lips turning up at all. Confusion set in once again, and Rowena wondered for the umpteenth time about the man's mental health. More than that, she was wondering about hers.
She, Rowena Victoria Chantilly, insurance agent extraordinaire and the apple of her employers' eyes, had just shouted at a client. It was only the most recent way that she had crossed the professional line. The list of her offenses was growing, and included continual bickering, delving into her personal life, throwing a hairbrush at the client, and running about like a child in a candy world (which, admittedly, she was currently in and frequently encouraged to do). But most grievous of all, somehow, inexplicably, she was beginning to feel a certain attraction to her own client. It was all wrong, wrong, wrong, and she was certain she'd never be able to right her life—professional or otherwise—ever again.
That was saying a lot, seeing as all of the above had happened in less than two days' time.
"Hmm." Wonka examined her carefully, absentmindedly leaning forward on his cane. "Chocolate Room, I think," and he pressed the appropriate button. That was it, then. He was finally letting her go. She'd be sacked, which was no less than she deserved, and she'd return to her flat in London, never to think of Mr. Willy Wonka and his beautiful violet eyes again, determined to start a new life for herself all over again. And she could, too. She'd done it before. She'd do it again.
"Charlie, my boy, I distinctly remember your mother making me promise to have you back before lunch to get your chores done."
"Oh?" Charlie looked perplexed, but one glance from Willy and his confusion miraculously vanished. "Oh, that's right!"
"I do believe Rowena and I will continue the tour as planned, then we can meet up with you again in a few hours. What do you say to that?"
"Sounds perfect, Willy," Charlie grinned.
"What are you two up to?" Rowena asked bluntly, alarmed by the conspiratorial look in their eyes. Obviously, and to her great surprise, he wasn't throwing her out. So what else was going on? Being alone with Willy Wonka didn't sound like the ideal plan at the moment. Until she firmly tamped down on her unwelcome feelings for him, she would be safer having Charlie as a buffer between them.
"Can't get out of chores," Charlie shrugged, grinning suspiciously.
"Right," Rowena replied dubiously, folding her arms across her chest. "Well. We do need to get on with the tour." It wasn't a very spectacular effort as far as recoveries went, but considering her little outburst moments prior, it would have to do. Honestly, the sooner she was out of the factory and back into the real world, the better.
Once they reached the Chocolate Room, Charlie waved enthusiastically as he disembarked the Elevator, breaking into a run and disappearing over a grassy knoll. That left just Willy and Rowena, standing stiffly in opposite corners from one another. "Unless you have any objections," he informed her, "I think I know just the place for our next stop."
Rowena shrugged noncommittally, pretending to be fascinated by something in the distance rather than meet his eyes. Soon the elevator was in flight again, and the silence was pressing in on her from every angle.
He was so very close. Even if she couldn't see him she could feel his presence, that strange electricity he possessed that she was increasingly becoming aware of. No, Willy Wonka was not like other men. He was far, far more dangerous, she was beginning to realize.
"I didn't really think you were involved, you know." His words pierced through her thoughts, catching her totally off-guard.
"You could have fooled me," she responded in a darker tone than she had aimed for. She sighed and tried again. "I guess I can understand. It's a rather strange coincidence, after all, these break-ins coinciding with my visit to the factory." Now Rowena cringed. That almost sounded like a confession to her ears.
"Sometimes a chocolate bar is just a chocolate bar," Willy philosophized. A smile tugged at the corner of her mouth, but she steadfastly denied it. Business, Rowena, she chided herself. This is business, not pleasure. Now knock off that smiling, if you please.
"Let's just hope we've seen the last of them. I mean, let's just hope you've seen the last of them." 'We' implied that she would be around if another one did occur. If they could finally stick to a reasonable timetable, Rowena emphatically decided she would not be.
Willy said nothing. She should have been grateful. Instead she was simply unnerved. He was watching her again, she knew it. Even worse was the fact that she knew she'd be watching him, too, if she could do so undetected.
When the Elevator landed, Rowena had to fight the urge to rush through the doors. She didn't care where they were headed so long as she didn't have to stand so insufferably close to him in such a small space. Exiting the glass contraption, she read the name of the doors in front of her aloud: "Strawberry-Juice Water Pistols Room…?"
Willy grinned down at her, nodding excitedly. "Oh, trust me. I think you're going to like this."
The doors slid quietly open. Rowena gasped; they had just stepped into the Wild West. This was no cardboard set from a Hollywood back lot. It was a true Western ghost town, just like two or three she had seen during her childhood of adventures. From high above them, the hot, afternoon sun burned down, as though they were actually outdoors. She found herself wondering whether or not they actually had stepped outdoors. But no, that was impossible. It was a cool spring day outside of the factory, not dry and arid. England was hardly known for its dry, desert climate.
Taking a few more steps, the pair stood in the wide dirt lane of the ghost town, tumbleweed rolling past their feet. They passed the general store and an apothecary's shop along with various other establishments, all eerily empty and most of the windows broken in.
"Willy," Rowena breathed in awe, surprised by how authentic everything looked. "This is incredible!"
"I know, right?" Willy chirped, clapping his hands together enthusiastically. "The Strawberry-Juice Water Pistols Room has undergone a few changes, thanks to Charlie's ingenius ideas. You see, it used to just be another boring high-tech shooting range, but my young protégé thought we could do better than that."
He was leading her to a building in the middle of the town, labeled with fading painted letters SHERIFF. Inside was another replica from the Old West, a dirt and grime covered Sheriff's office complete with two empty jail cells. Hanging on the wall, sparkling clean compared to everything else around them, were what Rowena could only call costume pieces: Cowboy hats, vests, and gun holsters with shiny red pistols tucked neatly inside.
"Oh, dear." Rowena had just remembered something very important. Ready to take some notes of this new room, if you could call it that, she had realized that her briefcase had been left in the Licorice Jungle. "I've left behind my notepad," she explained to Willy, turning around to leave.
"You won't be needing that here." She met his unblinking gaze with a bewildered one.
"Why ever not? I'm behind as it is. I can't return to my employers empty-handed."
"Consider this part of the tour off the clock."
"No, I can't do that," she explained, thinking of her precious protocol. "My notes are very important, Willy."
"So I've noticed. Don't you worry your little head, Rowena. My Oompa-Loompas will take good care of your briefcase. We'll have them swing it by when we're finished here."
"Finished with what exactly?" She wasn't sure she really wanted to know. "Can't we just go back for it now?"
"You know something, Rowena?" By the tone of his voice it was clear he was changing the subject. "Some days I find myself at a standstill, frustrated by lack of progress or failed experiments or something to that effect. And I have found that the best cure for those strange and just gosh darn difficult days is to find an activity where I can just let it all out!"
"Let it all out…?"
"That's right! Let it all out. Expel the anger. Banish the bad vibes. Indulge in a little mayhem."
"That's not what I need to do," Rowena argued. "What I need to do is to get my briefcase back, finish the tour, get back to London and turn in my evaluation to my superiors!"
"You're awfully cute when you're angry." That innocent and honestly spoken statement left her open-mouthed and wide-eyed. Her surprise swiftly turned to indignation, as it very well should have, yet there was something more. Something else.
Pleasure. She was flattered. That couldn't be right...
"Willy, Mr. Wonka, please. Can't we just finish the--"
Pointing at the cowboy regalia behind her, Willy swiftly cut her off. "I think you'll make an excellent sheriff today."
"An excellent what?"
"Sheriff. You do know what a sheriff is, don't you?"
Crossing her arms across her chest, she retorted, "Of course I do."
"Well that's great, starshine! Here's your pistol." He had crossed the room and grabbed a gun holster, a cowboy hat and a gold sheriff's badge, pulling out one of the shiny red weapons and offering it to her.
Eyeing it with a mixture of curiosity and abhorrence, Rowena gasped, "What are we going to be doing with those? Shooting targets?"
"Of course not," Willy grinned, mischief shining in his violet eyes. "We'll be shooting each other. You'll be shooting at me. Now here's your badge."
She drew in a sharp breath, ignoring the proffered badge held out in his gloved hand. "I'm not going to shoot you!"
"And why not? You know that you want to."
"That's…absurd!"
"No, it isn't. You've got to get all of those conflicting emotions out of you, and this will help! Trust me, I should know."
"Conflicting what? What on earth are you talking about, Mr. Wonka?"
Willy tried another tactic, his tone of voice suddenly very calm and sincere. "Rowena. You are the daughter of Frederick Chantilly." Her eyes grew wide at his use of her father's name, but Willy continued uninterrupted. "Yes, I know who he is. Not only is he one of Charlie's heroes, but he also happens to be one of mine." Rowena couldn't believe her ears. The reclusive Willy Wonka knew who her father was? "Believe it or not, I was a bit of an adventurer myself once," he boasted, answering her silent question.
"The point is, you've traveled the world. You've met kings and explored ruins and recovered treasures, all without blinking an eye." My, but he suddenly seemed to know her extremely well. "So pick up that pistol over there, aim it right at me, and fire, gosh darnit!"
"But you--it will--I can't--" She was faltering, searching for any excuse that would help her escape. "It will stain your lovely jacket!"
He beamed at her, finding a compliment in her words. Childish excitement returned to his voice. "It sure won't! That's the best best part! The beauty of Strawberry-Juice Water Pistols is that they don't stain at all. The strawberry juice is absolutely delicious, of course, but without all the nonsense and grief of regular, icky staining juice."
"Because it…doesn't stain." Now she was beginning to understand. It was ingenious, like everything else Willy came up with. All the excitement of a water fight, the delicious flavor of strawberry juice, and not a single consequence.
"Willy, are you sure you want me to do this? I hate to boast, but I am a rather good shot."
"Oh, really, Sheriff?" He offered the sheriff's badge to her once more, grinning in triumph as she reluctantly pinned it onto her cardigan. "Just one last thing…" Without so much as waiting for her permission, he plopped the tan cowboy hat on top of her head, jerking down the brim so that her vision was temporarily obscured. "You're going to have to catch me first!"
Is that how he was going to play? Rowena jerked her hat back into place, but Willy had already gained a lead of several feet, fleeing from the building with an uncommon amount of both grace and speed. She wasn't far behind him, however--once she committed herself to something, be that strawberry-juice fight-related or otherwise, she was in one-hundred-and-ten-percent. Hastily buckling the gun holster around her hips, she grasped a Strawberry-Juice Water Pistol with each hand. Now she was on the hunt and ready for a genuine victory against Willy Wonka.
Willy had abruptly turned a corner into an alley way, dust kicking up behind him in his haste. Rowena tore after him, skidding around the corner and coming to an abrupt halt. Drat, he was gone!
She scanned her surroundings, keeping her eyes open for any sign of movement. The silence was unnerving, yet adrenaline was pounding inside of her. She wanted to run, to play, to act like a child again. She simply couldn't help it. Something about Willy Wonka and his childlike devotion to life was inspiring, really, affecting her in the oddest ways since her arrival in his factory. One moment they were fighting like children, the next they were playing like children. Yet the growing attraction she felt for him was anything but childish, and that was very, very disconcerting, to say the very least.
And, he was right. She hadn't even shot him yet--she would, she vowed--but she was still feeling some of her earlier tension slip away. Trying her best to clear her head, she carefully moved from the alleyway and back to the dusty lane of the ghost town. The crunch of her high heeled feet on the dusty ground was the only sound besides the occasional sigh of wind sweeping through the town. The apothecary's shop was the closest building and in her estimation the likeliest place Willy could have managed to escape to from the alley. Her back to the building, she paused beside the shop's broken front window, listening carefully. Hearing nothing out of the ordinary, she angled her head just enough to peer through the window, scanning the neglected shop for any sign of movement.
Fwp! Fwp! Two streams of ruby red liquid shot past her face, and if she hadn't have pulled her head back just in the nick of time they likely would have struck her right in the forehead. Willy had fired from behind the counter inside of the store, so quickly she almost hadn't seen him. Rowena didn't hesitate another moment before dropping to the ground in order to roll beneath the window, coming to land on the balls of her feet squarely in front of the door.
She could just hear the sound of rapid footfalls, and sure enough as she burst into the store, guns blazing, so to speak, she caught a glimpse of Willy's top hat as he disappeared through a doorway into the back of the shop. Hot on his heels, she fired her pistol at him, just missing him as he sped around a corner. He had fled into the stock room and out the back door, and Rowena was determined not to lose him so easily this time.
The alley she found herself in ran most of the length behind the buildings. Chasing after Willy, the newly appointed 'Sheriff' watched as her prey deftly slipped inside another back door to one of the abandoned establishments of the ghost town. He really was good at this game, wasn't he? If things went the way she intended, he was about to meet his match…
She followed at a slight distance behind him, slipping through the door stealthily and taking stock of her surroundings. The door led to another stock room, much larger than the one in the apothecary's shop but otherwise empty and unremarkable. Moving quietly into an empty corridor and cautiously moving along it, Rowena could see that a door at the far end was slightly ajar. She stood before it, placing her shoulder lightly against it.
Crack! She burst through the door, pistols drawn and ready, to be met with…nothing. That is, nothing but an empty saloon. Decrepit wooden tables and chairs were strewn across the large room, some of the splinters of broken chairs littering the ground here and there. Easing into the room further, Rowena could see the old bar at the opposite side of the room, the long mirror behind it still intact.
Lowering her pistols just a fraction, she was just about to investigate the stairs leading up to a balcony when something reflected in the mirror caught her eye. Willy hadn't slipped in before her! He was creeping up behind her! Whirling around to face him, she was totally caught off guard as he came barreling into her, taking them both to the ground. They rolled twice before Rowena landed on her back, Willy partially sprawled across her stomach and grinning in triumphant glee.
"Ha!" He exclaimed, his arms braced on either side of her. They remained that way, staring at one another in silence for an indeterminable period of time. His smile was slowly fading, and Rowena was absolutely mesmerized by those violet eyes of his gazing down at her. Electricity seemed to crackle around them, sparked by their close proximity to one another. Her thoughts were frozen, her heart leaping wildly in her chest. And by the look on his face, he was feeling as much of the inexplicable surge of something as she was. Rowena's dark eyes fell on his lips, seemingly fascinated to find them so near to her own…
"Rowena," he said, his voice soft and almost achingly serious. "Rowena, I…"
Fwp! Fwp! His eyes grew wide, lips thinning in surprise, and he gazed down at the fresh little blobs of strawberry juice on the left lapel of his jacket, just above his heart.
"Got you," she whispered, a smile curving the corners of her rosy lips.
Willy was the first to laugh, beginning with one brief, disbelieving chuckle before dissolving into fits of laughter. Rowena wasn't far behind, laughing with all the carefree joy she had felt so often in her youth. Rolling away from her and onto his back beside her, Willy managed to remark, "Excellent shot, Sheriff," before falling away into more fits laughter.