I do not own anything from Charlie and the Chocolate factory. All rights and likenesses belong to Roald Dahl, Johnny Depp and Tim Burton. No profit is being garnered from this work. The next question in our series of "Ask the Oompa Loompa" comes from KayCee from Tecumsah, OK who asks: "Why do you all look identical? Tupik-Ra answers: "Our tribe has lived on an isolated island for thousands of generations with a fairly limited population. Certain characteristics are common, however, we are not identical by a long shot. I could ask the same thing of the population of Asia – they all share similar racial traits as well Would you call everyone there identical?" If you would care to ask Tupik-Ra a question about the Oompa Loompa, let me know and we'll see if we can get it answered.

– Stealth Phoenix

Adult content warning – if matters of adult sexuality bother you, skip and move on. You've been warned.

Chapter 29

Music thumped with visceral rhythm through the small room. Twist, spin, stretch, bow and slide – the two figures moved and danced with each other in sinuous elegance. Eyes were locked with rapturous intensity as they clung, pressed and moved with each other. Perspiration rolled down their faces, but exertion was ignored in the pursuit of a deeper pleasure. Their breathing quickened, hearts raced as they sought completion in each other's arms. The song rose to its climax as the shorter collapsed in a controlled fall into the other's arms to gaze lovingly into his eyes.

They moved toward each other, eyes locked…lips softened and ready to receive the other….

…when a rude pounding on the door completely disrupted the mood.

Spencer groaned in frustration as Reggie helped him stand upright from the final pose of the choreography he's been working on. "Bloody interruptions," he growled, grabbing a towel and his shirt where it was draped over the kitchen stool.

Reggie shot him a sympathetic grin before peering out of the eyehole to see who had so rudely interrupted what was about to become a rather romantic interlude. He gave a small cry and fumbled for the locks, "It's Ronnie!"

Locks conquered, Reggie threw open the door and grabbed the startled woman on the other side in a tight embrace, spinning her. "Dear God woman! Don't frighten us like this again!"

Veronica laughed at her brother's reception, "Yes, I promise not to have any more homes burn down the night of your wedding. Come on, like I planned that to happen?"

Reggie froze, staring at her for a moment in confusion, "Did you get extensions? What have you done with your hair?"

Veronica winced – less than a minute, a new record, "Long story."

Willy stood uncertainly on the threshold and Spencer waved him in, "Please enter our humble abode, Mr. Wonka. What brings you today?"

"Escorting Veronica and providing transportation to avoid cross-town traffic," Willy replied, removing the huge sunglasses and returning them to his pocket.

"Sorry – you caught me working," Reggie blushed, grabbing a towel to drape across his shoulders and mop his sweating face. "Ronnie, would you or Mr. Wonka care for something to drink?"

"If I would, I'll get it myself. Go clean up, you smell like ass." She said, giving him a fond peck on the cheek before wincing, "Ew!"

"I can take a hint. Back in a few minutes." Reggie promised, he placed a quick peck on Spencer's cheek before dashing off to the bedroom.

As soon as the door was closed, Spencer spun to Veronica, "Quick, grab the projector – we can unscrew the light bulb or break it or something to avoid the slideshow."

They moved like tigers, pouncing on the inoffensive piece of electronic equipment and partly dismantling it before Willy could even blink.

"What did that thing ever do to you?" he asked curiously.

"Death through tedium. Do you want to be subjected to 158 slides of 'wonderful' examples of Middle-Age, Renaissance and Romantic period architecture – and not the thrilling bits?" Veronica explained, taking the small light bulb out of the front end, subjecting it to a squint-eyed inspection before whacking it repeatedly against the table.

"Not particularly. I never was that fond of staring at buildings – even when I had to build them out of chocolate." Willy mused.

"This really is for the best – future generations will thank us. We do this for the betterment of mankind. Quick – he'll almost be done!" Spencer whispered, screwing the front lens and plastic mount back into position.

Spencer finished and dove over the couch in the pit area to sit as Veronica grabbed Willy's hand to jerk him to sit next to her in the love seat.

"Quick! Your coat!" she hissed, shucking her own with record speed. Willy was taken aback as she nearly attacked him, wresting the coat from his arms and throwing them neatly to drape over the single seat across from them. She had just sagged back in an exaggerated posture of relaxation when Reggie strolled back in, dressed and toweling his hair dry, "Shower's free."

"Thanks Love! I won't be but a sec." Spencer twittered, passing Reggie and giving him a quick goose before shooting into the bedroom.

"I'll wait until he gets back before showing you the pictures. I know he likes to add his own comments. Have you ever been to Spain, Mr. Wonka?" Reggie began to boot up his laptop to pull up the PowerPoint presentation he'd designed of their vacation.

It was like watching a train wreck, Willy thought to himself. You could see it coming, and yet it was too fascinating to look away.

"Several times, particularly Madrid and Seville," he replied in a distant tone, watching Reggie's movements with cat-like curiosity.

Veronica nudged him sharply.

"You'll probably appreciate the Persian influence on the arabesque and tile work," Reggie said enthusiastically as he plugged the laptop into the small portable projector. "Ronnie, be a doll and lower the screen for me please."

"Reggie, I don't think Mr. Wonka would be interested in your honeymoon pictures," she said. Willy's reaction was going to give them away and they'd be subjected to a three hour lecture on arches – arches of all things.

"Actually, I think it might be interesting," Willy fluted, then gasped at the sharp elbow rammed into his ribs. Veronica shot him the Evil Eye™ – what was he doing?

"Great. Ronnie, if you please?" Reggie said, flipping on the power to the projector.

She glared at Willy before throwing herself to her feet and stalking over to the collapsible projection screen that had been set up against the far wall. She managed to get the bloody thing to stay down on the third try and resumed her seat next to the smirking Willy.

Spencer re-entered the room as Reggie frowned at the projector. "What the hell…it worked during the test run this morning…"

Spencer shot a warning look at Willy to control himself from where he sat silently shaking with laughter next to Veronica. "What's wrong? You had it up this morning."

I'm sure you did, Veronica thought darkly, pinching Willy as he started to wheeze with laughter.

Reggie unscrewed the mount and removed the bulb and inspected it. "The bloody filliment is busted. It must have gone during the test run. Sorry Ronnie, I know you were looking forward to the show."

Veronica was gracious in her victory, "That's okay Reggie. Maybe next time."

Willy had managed to regain control of himself, even as his eyes watered from the effort. The innocent expression and right note of disappointment from Veronica was almost too much. She had an amazing amount of acting talent – had he not witnessed the sabotage himself, he would be tempted to believe her.

Plus, now he had leverage should he ever need a favor.

"Speaking of dim bulbs, Ronnie, did you ever get a hold of that Victor fellow?" Spencer asked from his sprawled place on the couch.

Willy's glee drained away even as Veronica chuckled, "Oh yeah."

Reggie took his place by his partner's side. "What's so funny?"

"Victor took out a restraining order on me. Apparently he found that phone call very threatening." She said dryly.

"That's a bit overkill, wouldn't you say?" Reggie asked incredulous.

"You didn't actually threaten to castrate him with a spoon, did you? I thought you were joking." Spencer sputtered. Veronica was about as threatening as the Care Bears.

"No. I placed the call from Mr. Wonka's office and Willy wisely recorded the conversation," Veronica said.

The two men shot a look at Willy. "Why would you feel the need to record a conversation with Veronica's old boss?"

Willy began to get a sinking feeling in his stomach even as Veronica squirmed uncomfortably next to him. He looked sternly at her and her small apologetic shrug said volumes.

She hadn't told them.

"That would be to help the police with their investigation," Willy said primly. He loved her, but he'd be damned if he was going to lie to her brother for her sake – especially for something she should have told him in the first place.

"What investigation? Ronnie?" Reggie's brow furrowed as he glowered at her.

"Thanks a lot. Now I'll never hear the end of this," she muttered at Willy.

"Ronnie, what have you managed to get yourself into now?" Spencer said, shaking his head.

Veronica sighed, I guess I have to come clean.

"Willy's security system in the studio picked up an intruder the night of the fire. That intruder apparently broke in and got caught – he used my heat lamp to free himself and escape. The police picked him up the next morning in the hospital and took him into custody," she explained, wondering if there was any way to gloss over the next bit.

"So what does the pillock Victor have to do with anything?" Reggie asked a hard light in his eye.

Veronica squirmed again, "Um…he might be responsible for hiring the burglar?"

Willy cleared his throat gently, giving her a reproving glare.

She shot him a pleading look.

He shook his head slightly and gave the two men watching the exchange a pointed look.

Veronica sighed.

"Fine. The man who got caught pointed out Victor as the individual who hired him to break into the apartment and was supposed to do something horrible to me."

Their reaction was all that she had imagined in a worst-case scenario and more…

"You mean that buggering idiot who called here actually hired a hit man to come after you?" Reggie yelled, even as Spencer groaned and sunk his head into his hands.

"Ronnie, why didn't you tell me this? Some maniac is after you and you blissfully tell Spencer and I...," Reggie switched to a blistering falsetto, "Go on your honeymoon! Never mind my apartment burned down and I'm being chased by some crazed stalker – go enjoy your vacation!"

Spencer settled for giving her a sad look, "Ronnie…"

Veronica just stared at Willy. See, this is why I didn't tell them, her look said.

"Guys, there is nothing you could do. I didn't want to pile worry on your shoulders when you're helpless to do anything about it," she protested.

"You've been gallivanting around in public…practically inviting some thug to…"

"Actually," Willy broke mercifully in, "She's been working non-stop since you left in my factory."

Spencer shook his head, still in disbelief, "I need a drink – who else?" He crossed to the kitchen and grabbed the bottle of Jack Daniels and held it up invitingly.

"Hit me," She replied before returning her attention to the distraught man, "Reggie – would you please calm down. Do you really think I'd just go waltzing around knowing that I'm in danger? We've already been taking precautions."

"I've got the finest security system in the world. No one gets in or out without my personal knowledge," Willy said, supporting her.

Spencer handed glasses around and poured. He slugged back his own before pouring another. "Not to get off topic here, but if Victor hired the hit man, why would he take out a restraining order on you?" he asked.

"I'm not sure. Willy thinks it was a premeditative move to throw the police off. He's accused me of blackmailing him and using the hit man as the go-between. Frankly, in either case, he's backed himself into a corner with the order since I turned over a copy of the only contact I've had with him to the police before the order even showed up."

Reggie sipped his whiskey and pointed a finger accusingly at her, "Don't avoid the issue. You didn't tell us about what was going on."

Veronica sighed and rubbed at her forehead with one hand, a headache was threatening. Willy slipped one hand into hers and squeezed supportively. She shot him a grateful, if weary grin.

Reggie turned his attention to the silent man sitting next to his sister, "And you! You promised to keep her safe…"

"I have. She's sitting here whole and healthy. I would never let anything happen to her if it is within my power to prevent it," Willy said firmly, gazing deeply into Veronica's eyes.

Even Reggie fell silent with the intensity of that promise. "You still didn't tell me…," he grumbled.

Spencer was a lot quicker picking up emotional subtext than Reggie, "Hello? What's going on here?" he asked, shooting the pair on the couch a questioning glance.

Willy was still holding Veronica's hand – the notorious germaphobe was holding her hand. Yes, he still had the glove on, but still...Veronica was leaning forward slightly, her posture protective of the man next to her from her threatening brother.

"Holy crap!" Spencer blurted realizing what he was looking at. Veronica had finally fallen in love! What's more - Wonka loved her back.

"What?" Reggie asked annoyed.

Spencer looked expectantly at the pale woman. She blushed and looked down at their joined hands before glancing at Willy with a shy expression. Willy seemed equally besotted and his eyes never left Veronica.

Even Reggie picked up on that one.

"Ronnie?"

"Yes, Reggie?"

"Is there something you would like to tell me?"

Veronica blushed further and seemed to find she and Willy's joined hands of intense interest.

Reggie turned a jaded eye on the Chocolatier, "Mr Wonka?"

Willy simply stared back, smiling, daring the man to comment. The smile and certain glint in his eye had nothing of humor in it and everything of a dark promise to inflict hell if a line was crossed.

It was a tactic that had served him well facing down vicious competitors and safety inspectors.

Reggie held the gaze for a moment longer and set his glass down without breaking eye contact, "Very well. Ronnie – I'm glad for you. I'm guessing you decided to tell Mr. Wonka – Willy – about…"

"Yes," she said, wishing she could sink into the floor to avoid this stupid conversation.

"Good. Mr. Wonka, I can tell you care for my sister and will treat her like the treasure she is. Just know that if you break her heart, I will hunt you down and kill you myself – it doesn't matter where you hide."

"And I'll stomp on the little wiggly bits that are left," Spencer chimed in, leaning forward to take his partner's hand in his. "Incidentally, I'm also thrilled for you two."

Willy relaxed and looked at Veronica with relief, the biggest hurdle to their relationship passed – the family approval.

"Thank you," Veronica whispered, sagging back to lean against Willy's shoulder for a minute and close her eyes. What a relief!

Willy regarded her for a moment, reaching up to brush a wild strand of hair away from her closed eyelashes. The tender gesture was not lost on the newlyweds and both felt a little better for seeing it.

Willy turned to the men, "Veronica has worked hard to complete her project – to the point of collapse. I would appreciate it if we could drop this topic for the moment and move on to other more pleasant ones."

"Thank you," she said again softly, opening her eyes and looking at him with tender affection before giving his hand an extra squeeze and letting go to take the glass of whiskey for a sip.

Reggie sagged, "I'm sorry. I just worry about you."

"It's all right. You're my big brother. It's in the job description."

Spencer leapt in, "Well… I for one would like to propose a quick toast then." The small group collected their glasses and raised them. "To new friends, new loves and new adventures. And as for the slimeball, Victor 'illegitimi non carborundum'."

Willy snickered and they all took a sip of the smooth whiskey.

--

Victor was enjoying his own evening as well. He was catering the Christmas party of a distinguished A-list actor and mingling with the crowd. The place was crawling with celebrities and the star-struck wanna-bes. He had just managed to convince a twenty-something young starlet that he knew Francis Ford Coppola and would put a nice word in for her.

She was expressing her gratitude in his favorite way back in a store room when his cell phone rang. He ignored it for the moment to enjoy the sensation of her plump lips and warm mouth wrapped around his swollen member. He rested his hands on her bobbing head and ran his fingers through her long dark hair.

She was quite skilled and between the powerful suction and her clever probing fingers, he was soon jerking uncontrollably as he emptied his load into her receptive mouth.

The starlet delicately spit his cum into the half-filled plastic cup of her drink and rose to pull a compact and lipstick from her tiny purse.

Victor tucked himself back into his pants with a grin. Corrections made, the starlet gave him a calculatedly smoldering look, "I hope you remember me fondly when you talk to Frank, Victor."

"You bet – how could I ever forget you Amber?"

"The name's Ashley."

"Whatever."

She slapped him and twirled on her impossibly high heels and tottered out of the store room, slamming the door. Rubbing his cheek and still smiling, Victor took the phone out of his pocket and checked the number - it was his brother-in-law. He hit the redial and waited.

Jim picked up on the second ring.

"Vic! Hey buddy how've you been?" The nebbish little man on the other end said in what he thought as a smooth voice. Victor though he sounded more like some reject disco jockey.

"I'm great Jim. How's Kay and the kids?"

"Kay's great – she's at a retreat for the weekend, and I've got the kids."

Yeah, he was sure she was at a spa – with her personal trainer Rick. Idiot.

"So, what's up? I'm working here." Victor said, making sure the storeroom door was closed and picking up the half-empty cup off the floor.

"The restraining order was delivered today. I made sure that the cops over there got a copy of the tape you got when talking to Ms. Carmichel. Things should start picking up after the holidays. The detective I talked to….Cavenaugh was his name…indicated that Jake was willing to come to some sort of deal with the DA – so are you sure he's on the same page as you?" Jim's nasal voice said.

"Absolutely – Jake will back up anything we tell him to," Victor allowed himself a lazy mental pat on the back for turning the investigation into Jake's arrest against the very woman he was sent out against. Nice job, Vic!

"That's it then. Hey – are you coming over for Christmas?" Jim's eager voice asked.

"Nah – I'm working then. Hey, I'll give you a call back later, I've gotta go bust some chops. Later!" Victor quickly hung up on the little nerd.

What his sister saw in him was beyond his comprehension.

Toying with the cup, Victor imagined Veronica's reaction to the order.

Her green eyes wide and liquid with tears, the thin hands trembling with fear, she turns on Willy Wonka to beg him to forgive her…Wonka turns his back in disgust and walks back into his factory leaving her standing alone in the snow filled courtyard – abandoned. "Oh Victor, I'm so sorry I didn't go to bed with you like you asked. It would have been the most magnificent experience of my life and now I've lost everything…" She breaks out into tears and slumps to her knees on the cold cobbles.

Yeah. He liked that image.

Unthinking, he takes a sip from the cup – only to spit the contents against the back of the door.