For two weeks, Wonka had turned Veronica away, not even allowing her into his factory to visit, too afraid she would show up in those stiletto heels and convince him to let her stay. Something about those heels… He shivered, hoping never to have to be under that spell again, unless he allowed himself to be. But Wonka couldn't just leave Veronica out there alone. If she was going to safeguard his secrets, he would have to give her some further sort of encouragement. So he bundled himself up as tightly as humanly possible, so that no more skin than that between his hat and the many scarves piled up around his face showed. Then, he announced to the factory at large that he was going out. All production stopped for a good five minutes as shocked silence turned to uproarious laughter on the Oompa Loompas' part. Finally, with an awkward clearing of the throat, Wonka turned and walked out the front doors. Everyone resumed working, quite embarrassed that he had actually been serious.

He walked down the long, straight road that led from the factory, somewhat hoping that he would simply know the way to Veronica's house. It was roughly five in the morning, snowing and dark, but Wonka walked on as if this were perfectly normal. His heeled boots clicked on the cobblestones, and his velvet blue eyes stared out from behind a pair of enormous sunglasses. He couldn't really see, what with the combination of morning darkness and sunglasses, but it didn't seem to matter. He was gravitating toward the location of his old shop, and he let his feet take him there. The place looked good. Whoever owned it now was keeping it in lovely condition. Then he saw it.

Veronica's old tan car, just down the street. Wonka lifted his sunglasses, just to be sure. Yes, that was definitely Veronica's car, it was piled with her belongings and sitting expectantly on the street, as if waiting for a long trip somewhere. Wonka walked up her front steps and pulled out his enormous keyring. Why bother to knock? Besides, the best kind of prize is a surprise! He shuffled through the keys a few times, trying one or the other, finally settling on a small brass one. This key opened the door, much to Wonka's satisfaction, and he strode inside, looking about at the bare walls. He poked through cupboards, and opened doors quietly, finally stumbling upon Veronica's room. She was asleep on her bed in yet another bare room. There were blankets on the bed, but nothing was tucked in, as if she were simply camping out here. There was the picture of Veronica and her mother, and the chocolate rose sitting on her bedside table. Wonka looked at the picture. That woman looked awfully familiar… But then, she looked quite like Veronica. He snorted slightly at the sight of the chocolate rose. That was for eating, not decoration, it was such a waste to just let it sit there, going bad. Perhaps he should work more on making them wilt if they got too old… Finally, his eyes settled back on Veronica. She was sleeping so soundly, and looked so comfortable, for being tangled in the mess of blankets. He had never felt quite so regretful at having to wake her up before. He took a deep breath and hesitated. The whole room… this whole place carried faintly the same quality that his purple comforter had now long since lost. He looked curiously at the sleeping girl in front of him. It had something to do with her, that he had known for a long time. But what was it? Finally, he stopped himself from wandering too far into contemplation and sat down silently on the edge of the bed. He tapped her on the nose and assumed an almost natural smile.

"Wake up, sleepyhead!" He said brightly. Veronica's eyes fluttered open. She shrieked and flew off the other side of the bed.

"How did you get in here?" She said, still very loud and very high-pitched.

"I have a key." Wonka said, holding up the keyring. It jingled mockingly. Veronica, panting, collapsed back on the bed.

"And where did you get a key from?"

Wonka thought about this for a long time. Finally, he turned to her with a bemused smile.

"I don't know."

"Wonderful. Why are you here? You won't even let me in the gates for two weeks, and then you ambush me in my own house?"

"Yeah, about that. This place is really boring!" Wonka said, gesturing at the bare walls.

"That's because I haven't unpacked my car. I'm waiting for the day they throw me out, so I can come live with you and 'learn the secrets of candymaking.'" Veronica said sarcastically. "Here, look." She handed him a large stack of unsigned letters, all counting down the days until she would no longer live here. Wonka read through them all, amazingly quickly, and then turned back to her.

"And… you haven't said anything?"

"To who? I wouldn't even know where to go to tell them I changed my mind!" Veronica whined. At Wonka's look of horror, she added quickly "But I haven't changed my mind…"

Wonka sighed, relieved.

"I can't do anything, just sit and wait, and that's the hardest part. All my memories of my mother are in this house. It's not just the pictures and material things, I can take those with me. But… sitting here… I can remember the night of my junior prom. The first night I ever wore those stiletto heels…" at this remark, Wonka shivered. Veronica grinned and continued.

"Even then, I was sixteen years old, I had a date… some creep from the baseball team… but even then I dreamed that…" She turned red and twisted her blankets in her hands. "I dreamed that I could have met you. Asked you…" She wasn't crying, but she sounded like she was about to. "Even then I could dream. My mother didn't get sick until I was eighteen… But then, it seemed like no time before… And then she was gone and I was alone and I had to go work for that horrible agency… I'm sorry."

"For what?" Wonka asked.

"For… I don't know… unloading all my problems on you. You know, you're still like nothing I ever could have imagined." She smiled, trying her very hardest not to cry. She seemed to do that a lot around Wonka…

He, on the other hand, didn't seem to mind if she started crying. Her nose went all red, and she hid behind a tissue until she was so distraught that the tissue was crumpled and shredded and she couldn't hide anymore. And then she would start to tremble and would look so pitiful and as weak as a reed in the wind that he would just have to move closer and hug her. Of course then she would be crying all over his coat, and he would never be able to get out all the tears and snot and… Stop that!

Damn those dusty mind-corners.

But Veronica held her dignity and did not shed a tear. She cast about her mind for a new subject. Anything to get her mind off losing this house…

"So… ummm… After Valentine's Day… Why did you kiss me?"

The question hit Wonka like a brick in the face. WHAT? Since when were we asking questions about this? He thought frantically.

"Seemed like a good idea at the time." He said, feigning placidity.

"And then… you just ran away?" Veronica smiled slightly, seeing the forced look on his face. The strain in his voice made it abundantly obvious that she had stumbled upon just the right subject.

"Yeah, well, about that…" There was a pause, then Wonka looked up triumphantly and exclaimed "Mumbler!"

"I'm not gonna buy that, and you know it." Veronica said slickly.

"Ok, well, I was scared. I didn't want to prolong an awkward moment. You'd have done the same." Wonka said quickly, sincerely hoping she hadn't heard the whole statement.

"Scared? Did the great and infallible Willy Wonka just admit to being scared?" Veronica asked, Cheshire Cat grin spreading across her face.

"Unfortunately, yes." Wonka mumbled.

"Hmmm… well then…" Veronica said, calculating her next move. "Would you be scared if I did this?" She took one of his gloved hands and kissed it lightly.

"No…" Wonka said, looking at her uncertainly. What was she up to?

"Good. Well, how about this?" She pulled off the glove, one finger at a time, and flung it over her shoulder, then bent to kiss the back of his bare hand.

"Maybe a little?" Wonka said quietly.

"Hmmm… well then, what about… this?" Veronica was now kneeling on the edge of her bed, very close to the chocolatier. She turned down his high collar, just slightly, and kissed his neck. He shivered.

"More than that last one, yeah." Wonka whispered.

"Interesting. Well, what about this?" And she leaned in to kiss his lips, but when she was but a fraction of an inch away, he leapt from the bed, defensively.

"Yes, YES! Now, it's getting late, I have to go. There's work to do. Sorry…"

"That's right, run away again!" Veronica said mockingly. She hoped that this would insult Wonka's ego enough to keep him there a few minutes longer. She was pleasantly rewarded when he turned back to her, eyes alight.

"I am NOT." He said indignantly. "I'm very busy, you know that."

"Then let me come back with you. I'll help. I promise." She fluttered her eyelashes.

"I thought you said you couldn't boil water without burning it." Wonka said sharply. "Besides, you have to face your fears!" And he turned again to stride out of the room. Veronica lunged off the bed like a cat and caught him around the ankles. He fell in a heap in her doorway, with her still clutching at his feet.

"But I'm tired of being here alone! I only depress myself…" Veronica said. There was a long, awkward silence following this, as both of them were still lying in a heap on the floor. Wonka's hat had rolled out into the front room, and Veronica was laughing inside. He really did look much better with the hat on his head…

"Pleeeease?" Veronica said, saccharine-sweet. "Please Willy, for me?"

He just stared back at her. She was upside down, as was the rest of the room. He was lying on his shoulder, half upside down against the doorframe. She was still grabbing hold of his one ankle, in a desperate attempt at keeping him here. He sighed.

"This is against my better judgment, and my better judgment is always right… That's why it's better." He said at length.

"WHEE!" Veronica leapt up, clapping and jumping. She was as happy as a kid in a candy store… no, a candy factory, and after two weeks, she was finally going back. Maybe this time she could stay…

"But you aren't staying. You have to face your fears!" Wonka insisted.

"That's what you think…" Veronica muttered happily under her breath.