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. Thanks to Yva for all the support and inspiration. Cold medicine can be a great inspiration for many strange things but it also makes for short chapters. Sorry. – Stealth Phoenix

Chapter 36

Willy impatiently pulled his work gloves off and shucked the apron. He jumped to his feet and guided Veronica to take a seat on one of the stools around a workbench. "Okay – first thing. Are you alright?"

She nodded as he grabbed a green glass bottle and poured a bit into a waiting paper cup. He handed it to her and she gratefully sipped – it tasted like some sort of sweet dessert wine with bubbles.

"It's a new soda I'm working on for adults – taste like Riesling, but isn't alcoholic and has the same calorie content as any diet soda." He explained, taking the other stool and setting it to Veronica's side for Charlie before taking his own seat.

Charlie slipped onto his own stool as Veronica told her tale starting with the news at Reggie's apartment and ending with her ambush as she returned home.

Willy groaned and sunk his head down into his hands, once again clad in purple latex, "Oh love! I'm so sorry this happened to you." He looked at her miserably, "I was hoping you'd be able to duck this since you were staying here and I was trying to be circumspect when I visited you."

Charlie patted her shoulder sympathetically, "It started like that for me too - right after the golden ticket contest. I kept getting harassed on my way to school. Eventually, the principal had to hold a press conference and tell them I was off limits on school grounds. A couple of my teachers got fired when they gave interviews about how I was doing in classes."

"So, how did you manage to shake them off?" Veronica asked.

"Who says I did? There are a couple of really persistent reporters who follow me when I go out, but I'm a rather boring person I'm afraid and most of them wandered off to cover other things," Charlie admitted.

"Great – this on top of everything else," Veronica sighed. "I don't know if I'm cut out for such notoriety."

Willy nodded sadly, "I know I'm not. Why do you think I rarely go out?"

Veronica took his hand, "But Willy, why cut yourself off from the world because of a few jackals?"

He shook his head, "It's not just a few. Everything I was doing was subject to such intense scrutiny. When secrets leaked and the media was all over me about my reaction to that kind of betrayal, I vowed never to allow myself to be subjected to such blood-sucking again. "

She looked at the man she loved. "I don't think I could do that. I love your factory Willy, but I refuse to let them chase me away from the world."

"Why endanger yourself? It's not forever, just a little while – the case against Victor is coming together according to Cavenaugh. Just wait until that dies down before heading out again?" Willy pleaded.

Veronica stood and started to pace the room, trying to put her mixed feelings into words – and into words that wouldn't hurt him.

"Willy. What we have is so new and precious, I don't want everyone out there prying into it. I agree that staying here would be a good idea at first look, but," she paused and pinned him with a look, "How long would that be? A month, two months? More? I can't put my life on hold for that long."

Willy was mute.

She resumed pacing, "When you said earlier that the factory was my home. That's true to a degree." Veronica stopped and approached Willy, a tender expression in her eyes, "You're my home."

Charlie, with tact, took this as an indication that this was a conversation that he shouldn't be here for. "Excuse me, I'll catch up with you at the house. Are you still coming for Christmas dinner?"

They both nodded, not unlocking eyes. She cupped Willy's cheek as Charlie slipped out and shut the huge vault door. "He's a good kid. You chose well," she said softly.

"He chose me."

Veronica chose to sit in Willy's lap to continue the conversation, his warmth and touch enabled her to put the feelings flying through her head into order. He silently shifted to allow her more space and wrapped his arms around her, waiting patiently for her to continue."

"You don't want to stay with me do you?" He asked sadly, heart breaking with the thought of this wonderful woman leaving him behind.

"Willy. I love you and nothing will change that. I just don't think I'm ready to stay here with you day in and day out for the rest of my life. I happen to like life on the outside and I'm not going to surrender it to the media, Victor or anyone else," Veronica said.

Willy closed his eyes and willed with all his strength for the tears in his eyes to go away – not to humiliate him as she left. Charlie was right, he did make too many assumptions about her wishes and now he was paying dearly for it.

Veronica was leaving.

Seeing his misconception, she kissed him and held his face in her hands, rough thumbs carefully wiping the tears that refused to obey his wishes from his cheeks, "Willy. I'm not giving up on us. In fact this just makes me more determined not to be parted from you."

Feeling hope rise, he looked to see her hazel eyes just inches from his own, "You're not giving up?"

Smiling, she shook her head, "Never. I told you – I am yours for however long you shall want me. I never break a promise."

He hugged her gently, feeling reassured but confused.

"So, forgive me as I try to catch up, but if you don't want to stay here, and you still want to be with me, what else is there?"

"I'm looking at buying an apartment close to the factory. Something with rooftop access, good security and separate from wherever I decide to establish my workshop. I wanted to get some more ideas from you as well – after all you are going to be a very…" she punctuated point with a kiss, "…frequent visitor."

Willy cheered immediately, finally understanding what she was saying.

"You scared me there." He sighed with relief. "I thought the media would be too much for you and you were leaving me forever."

She smiled, "No way. I just want my own space for the time being. After all…" Veronica shifter to straddle his lap, lips laving his with attention, "…we have just now become lovers. It's a bit presumptuous to jump right into cohabitation. Right?"

Willy's ashamedly pushed his initial reaction to grab her close and hide away with her somewhere in the far reaches of his factory until the media blitz blew over, "Yes dear."

She awarded him with a bright smile and a slow kiss that robbed him of breath. They parted a moment later to lean their foreheads together.

"I don't mean to get greedy. I just don't want to share you with the world. I'm sorry," He said.

"It's okay, I forgive you. Just don't try to protect me without me asking first, alright?"

"Deal. Hungry?" Willy asked, running a hand over her legs with soft pressure.

"For you? Starving," she growled, throatily – the adrenaline rush from earlier feeding into her revived libido.

Willy cleared his throat and flushed as she leaned closer to nibble on his earlobe, "Minx! I meant for Christmas Dinner with the Buckets."

Reluctantly, she slid off his lap and straightened her clothes, "I guess so."

He rose and collected his hat and jacket from the coat hooks by the door. Pulling on his jacket, he asked, "So what did you get those two reprobates for Christmas anyway?"

"Reggie got his favorite CD of Big Band music and Spencer got another sock monkey."

"Sock Monkey?"

"It's better to probably never ask. Safer that way."

--

Across the globe, Victor Brahm was doing what he did best - sucking up to the rich and famous.

The Christmas party he was catering for a well known Daytime star known for great acts of Charity was going well. All the guest were chatting with each other and the hostess herself had come over to thank him for working on Christmas.

"For you, dear lady? Anything?"

"Have you seen the house, Victor? I think you'd find it interesting," she offered with a gleam in her eye.

Victor grinned charmingly at her. It was not a secret that her long-term relationship was falling apart and she was on the market for a new young stud to add to her stable.

She wasn't too back on the eyes, Victor thought. Not exactly his taste, but if she was interested, he'd be glad to service her and still have his own ladies on the side. She'd be good for business and a few choice words about him on air would provide enough opportunities for years to come.

Discretion was the key word to all these Hollywood affairs.

He wiped his hands and removed the apron from around his waist before she took his hand and led him to a crowded living room.

Victor smile and greeted guest, shaking hands and accepting compliments with aplomb. His hostess led him over to the tree to admire some of the blown glass ornaments.

"Aren't these just charming? I found them on-line and had them shipped here since they weren't available in the states yet." She cooed, fingers caressing the ornaments with a sultry look in her eye as she stared at him.

Victor regarded the ornaments. They were nice, the translucent glass gleaming in the soft light, but he really didn't find any household decoration that interesting.

"They're spun sugar!" she breathed in his ear, "Latest and greatest from Wonka. He's apparently been working with some up-and-coming artist. Between you and me, my accountant tells me that he's donating all the profits to the artist to start up their own business."

Really? Victor perked up. Maybe she was hinting that she was following Wonka's steps and planning on sponsoring him with some project. Then Victor looked closer at the decorations she was caressing so delicately. Spun sugar? Wonka?

He started to get a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach.

"Do you happen to remember the name of the artist he was working with?" Victor said softly, looking into her eyes with what he hoped was longing. 'I'm pretty familiar with most of the confectionery artist out there."

"Something Carmichael. I don't remember the first name," she said, setting the ornament down and stroking his hand with an acrylic tipped finger.

Victor struggled to keep the fury off his face.

Veronica!

The bloody bitch!

She'd played him and made her move on Wonka.

That should have been his contract!

Realizing that he had been frozen for too long, he turned to his hostess, "Really. I find that fascinating."

She moved her caresses up his arm in a meaningful trail, "Victor darling, you look stunned. Would you like to sit down? Someplace quiet, perhaps?"

Realizing that she was making her move, Victor allowed himself to be tugged from the room, up the grand staircase and down the hall to the master bedroom suite.

He put his body on autopilot while his mind raged at the injustice.

He'd leaked the information that Veronica was fucking Wonka to his buddies in entertainment news and as predicted, they'd leapt on it like starving wolves. It didn't matter if it was true or not, the pressure of the paparazzi would soon drive her from his side. The implications of their incestuous business dealings would also give weight to his own claims that she was setting her hooks in the Chocolatier after casting he (the poor suffering victim) aside in her blackmail plot.

He was so good - he should write for soap operas!

Still. The bitch had gotten filthy rich off of Wonka and he couldn't let that stand. Maybe getting Jim to file a civil suit for damages would help ease her of some of that cash.

His lovely hostess was guiding him to lay back on the bed and he mentally set aside his thoughts for the moment.

It was time to work.