(A.N. Decided I had to re-post chapter 30. There was more of it left to tell. Thank you for your patience, I know this isn't exactly what you expect when you want updates, but it's a lot more difficult to write in a dorm room than alone. If inspiration hits me, you'll know it. Until then, I wish you all Merlot colored coats and Whipple Scrumptious Fudgemallow Delight filled dreams.)

"Candy, candy, candy, I'm so sick of candy!" Veronica groaned one morning, not long after Wonka had awakened her. "Can't we do something else for a change?"

"Like what, silly? This is a candy factory!"

"Don't you make anything else? Cookies? Chocolate cake? Anything?"

"Well… funny story…" Wonka removed his hat and began spinning it in his hands, not looking at Veronica. "No one here can bake."

"No one. No one here can bake anything? No cookies, no cakes, no pies, no nothing?" Veronica asked incredulously. "But the Oompa Loompas…"

"The Oompa Loompas can't make cake to save their lives! And neither can I. In fact, the only person in this entire factory who can use an oven is Mrs. Bucket! Isn't that neat?"

Veronica burst out laughing. The candymaking equivalent of Santa Claus and his elves, and they couldn't even make cookies?

"Don't laugh, you can't boil water without burning it!"

"But I can melt chocolate now, and make marshmallow fluff and caramel sauce too!" Veronica grinned. "If you could have known my mother, she would have taught you a thing or two about baking!" She grinned.

A brief mental image of Veronica's mother passed through Wonka's mind, but she was so like Veronica he could hardly distinguish between them.

"She didn't teach you anything!" Wonka said cheerily. "But I did!"

"Not to say she didn't try." Veronica said huffily.

"Well, obviously she didn't try hard enough. That pretty little noggin of yours isn't as rock-hard as I thought." He rapped on her skull and she withdrew, scowling at him.

"Ow!"

Wonka giggled at her.

"Hey, buddy, I wouldn't be so nasty or it'll come back and bite you later. Don't forget, you have a lesson today. And, oh, what's this? I seem to remember you saying something about me getting a day off today?" Veronica grinned. "I think your chocolate can live without you for one day. How about we do something fun?"

"Fun? But… I have fun all the time, don't you?"

"If you wanna call it that, sure…" Veronica said sarcastically. "Come on, it's the middle of June! Charlie will be out of school in a matter of days, and we won't get another chance until September…" She grinned.

"But… You scare me when we're alone. And I've had just about enough of these lessons of yours!"

"Hey! Other than the lessons, when we're alone, YOU make all the advances, not me."

"And what would you call what happened in the elevator, smartypants?"

"That doesn't count. I was hysterical. I thought we were going to die."

"And afterwards?"

"…I was still hysterical."

"Were NOT."

"Come on… We're wasting time! Let's go do something FUN! Please, Willy?" She batted her eyelashes and smiled sweetly.

"If you insist…"

"GREAT! Now, what to do… Where haven't I been in this factory yet?"

"The places you aren't allowed to go."

"Poppycock. I'm an adult, I can go where I please."

"If you can find 'em. I'm sure not taking you there, no sir."

"Well then, what do you do for fun?"

"Make chocolate."

"Besides that."

"I don't… Well, sometimes I take the great glass elevator for joyrides, is that ever a rush!" He was on the verge of giggling again, but as he saw the look on Veronica's face, he cringed and looked away. "Hey, I know!" and without explanation, he seized Veronica by the wrist and dragged her from the room.

She soon found herself trudging up an endless looking spiral staircase to who knew where? Wonka was practically sprinting up the stairs, his long legs taking two steps at a time, Veronica barely keeping up. The staircase was very spindly and very unsafe looking, and it wound itself through what Veronica determined to be the oldest part of the factory. The machines that they were now rapidly rising above were silent, ancient, and built for workers far larger than the Oompa Loompas. There were the skeletal remains of huge steel contraptions here, rusted out bodies of the first workhorses to power this factory. Wonka didn't spare them a second glance as he clanked noisily up the wrought-iron stairs. Gradually, after an eternity of climbing, Veronica looked up and saw a tiny light at the end of the path. She assumed it was this that they were climbing toward, but what could be nestled so high up? She panted and crawled up a few more stairs, before collapsing onto one, resting her head on the one above. Wonka kept climbing for a few moments before noticing that she was no longer following him. He turned and looked down at her, then came back and crouched down beside her on the narrow stair, balancing between her and nothingness, for there was no rail on the inside.

"Where are we going?"

"I would have taken the elevator, it's much faster, but you don't seem to like it much." He giggled. "Go figure…"

"It tried to kill me." She huffed.

They stayed there in silence for a few minutes. Then Wonka, sensing a change in her breathing pattern, pulled her back to her feet and on they climbed. It was probably two hours before the small round pinprick light high up in the distance became clear. It was growing ever closer, but it was obscured by a fancy wrought-iron grate and she couldn't see clearly what lay beyond. Still farther along, Veronica noticed that the iron grate was adorned with a complex art deco motif, with "Wonka" inserted everywhere in the pattern.

"You like it? I had to replace the old one about a year back… That one was boring anyway." He smiled slightly over his shoulder and climbed on. Finally, three and a half hours after the journey began, with legs like lead and an aching back, Veronica realized she could go no further without bumping into the grate. There was nothing up here.

"This is your idea of fun?" She asked, panting. Wonka, who showed no signs of fatigue whatsoever, smiled, eyes twinkling.

"You haven't seen the best part yet, silly!" And he placed his purple gloved hands on the grate and gave it an almighty push. It was solid wrought-iron and nearly twice as wide across as Wonka was tall, but it swung out of the way as easily as if it had been made of spun sugar. Wonka ascended the last few stairs and climbed out of the shaft, then pulled Veronica up and out. They were standing on the rim of the enormous central smokestack, nothing to support them, wind whistling around them, staring at the vast horizon. Below, the smaller smokestacks all hissed smoke, swirling around them in misty clouds. The sky was a vivid Caribbean blue, and from here, Veronica felt she could see a good part of the surrounding countryside. There they stood, one hundred stories up, on the white marble rim of the smokestack. Veronica suppressed a gasp. For a moment, she was certain that she would fall, either back into the shaft or out into the open sky, but as she wavered there for a moment, a hand reached out and took her by the elbow, steadying her.

"THIS is my idea of fun." Wonka smiled.

Willy Wonka, Willy Wonka, the amazing Chocolatier...

How long they just stood there, with the wind whipping at Veronica's hair, Wonka's coat, neither of them knew. Veronica was so taken with the scenery, she couldn't understand how Wonka didn't spend every waking minute of his life sitting up here. Wonka watched the exhilarated expression on her face. He had seen this view far too many times, he doubted very much that it had changed dramatically. In fact, this was the first place he had ever laid eyes on Charlie Bucket. At the same time a hopeful little boy gazed up at the factory gates, Wonka had been standing on the very pinnacle of his creation, staring down at his heir. He had spent a great deal of time up here, thinking, in the time his factory was besieged by spies, and then afterward, when he was alone. In fact, he could remember the very first time he had ever stood up here, staring at open sky. He was… somewhere in his mid- twenties… nevermind where. This had been amongst the first parts of the factory to be completed, the first place workers ever churned out chocolate, when the demands on the little shop on Cherry Street became too heavy. Looking off to the north, he could see the shop, and Veronica's house too. He had ascended the stairs that time too, the elevator had not even been conceived then. Looking out over the world, he had felt that he owned it all, for everyone was begging for what he gave them. What a price he had paid for that pride. Every time he came here after that first day, it had been to mourn the loss of another secret, or to try and forget another face that had haunted his dreams. All those displaced employees, that was the price of the sin of his pride. Their lives, too, had been dragged down, not just his. But time had passed now, and some of those wounds had healed, and he wasn't the same proud and arrogant young man. And maybe the great gods under the sky would see that now, for he had brought Veronica to share in the view of that great world that he lorded over, and would help him do what he knew he had to do.

Veronica sat down on the edge of the great marble rim, swinging her feet against the sky. She could stay up here forever. The fatigue of their climb was beginning to return and she sighed and leaned against the heavy iron grate, laying her face against the cool metal. The grate was enormous and she felt safe near it. Anywhere else, she was still afraid she might fall, but there, she knew she had enough space to relax. After a long while, Wonka too seated himself on the rim, knees pulled tightly to his chest.

"It's beautiful." Veronica finally said.

"Nothing special." Wonka replied, unconvincingly casual.

"If it's nothing special, why did you drag me up here?"

"I thought you might like it." He smiled. "And you do!"

"Go figure…" Veronica sighed, gazing out over the horizon.

There was another long silence as Veronica let the wind ruffle her hair. Up here, all you could smell was chocolate. It was like heaven on earth to her. At length, she stretched her sore legs and left the safety of the big, iron grate, sitting instead next to Wonka. He watched her, uncertainly for a moment. This was the part where things became most uncomfortable between them, wasn't it? But they didn't. She simply lay her head on his shoulder and smiled.

"Thank you." She whispered.

"For what?" He tried to relax, Veronica had now latched onto his arm and was quite comfortably close, for once.

"For sharing this with me."

"Well, in that case, I should be thanking you." He said, with no pretense of false cheer. The emotion in his voice was, for once, his own. Veronica just smiled.