Veronica awoke one morning with an unexpectedly uncomfortable feeling in the pit of her stomach. It was Father's Day. Normally, this day did nothing for her, she hadn't had a father. Now that she did, she realized she hardly wanted to spend the day appreciating him. However, there was one thing that might take her mind from her own misery…

"My WHAT? Why on earth would you EVER want to do that?" Wonka looked stricken.

"I thought you were on better terms with your father!"

"Better, not GOOD." Wonka clarified stiffly. "Besides, you're not allowed outside. Can't take a chance on running into your f—ff—yours." He grinned superiorly and awaited her retort.

"We aren't going anywhere near Slugworth's shop, nor my house, nor anywhere else he might be. Besides… we can take the… elevator…" Veronica hated herself for saying this, but she had to get over her fear of it sometime, and besides, she had a better chance of getting out of this place if she just humored Wonka.

"Nope." Wonka said simply. "Elevator's out of commission again. Three Oompa Loompas got stuck in a tunnel between the caramel room and the marshmallow fluff room."

"But we should go see your father. I'm sure he'd be happy to see you."

"Do you know how awkward that would be? We'll be sitting at the dinner table, staring at each other, not saying a word. AND he'll be watching everything we eat and making sure we brush our teeth afterward. Do you really want to put yourself through that? I didn't think so." He said harshly, without waiting for an answer from Veronica.

"Humor him. It's Father's Day. Besides, if you had kids, wouldn't you want them to remember you?"

"Kids, me? Eww…"

Veronica sighed.

"We're going." She said, and seized him by the wrist, dragging him toward the front doors.

"Now wait a minute!" He whimpered desperately. He dug his heels into the tiled floor and snatched his arm back. "What if I don't want to?"

"It's Father's Day, Willy. He's your FATHER. You have to go see him." Veronica grabbed him by the elbow and dragged him on, panting. He was still jamming his heels into the floor, and was now determinedly skidding his cane along the floor too.

"I could say the same to you, little Miss Smartypants, but I don't think you want to spend another month tied up in that nasty, disgusting basement!" He tried one more time to yank his arm free, but this time he overbalanced and went crashing into the wall, dragging Veronica with him.

"Well, that was fun…" Veronica said sarcastically. "Are you going to follow me without complaint now?"

"No." Wonka said stubbornly. His blue velvet eyes flashed mischief. One purple gloved hand rose to brush Veronica's hair out of her face. As it brushed past her cheek, Veronica caught it and held it there for a moment… then leapt to her feet, dragging Wonka with her, striding to the door.

"Veronica!" He cried lamely. It was his last ditch attempt at stalling her, but as he had expected, his cry fell on deaf ears. Out the door they went, and as soon as they hit the warm June air, Wonka immediately assumed a dignified expression… as dignified as he could look, and stopped struggling.

They walked the first few blocks in silence, Wonka shooting furtive glances around him for Slugworth or his cronies. Veronica held her head almost unnaturally high, hoping to give the impression of having no fear. Her gut told her otherwise.

"You just don't want to go because of me." She finally said quietly.

"Poppycock."

"You're afraid he'll judge me… and you for your choice." She smiled supportively. "I can hold my own, thanks."

"I'm not afraid of anything. I just don't want to aggravate an already tense situation." He said simply, not looking at her.

The journey seemed to last forever. Wonka was feeling quite ill as they walked up the grassy plain toward the one lone brownstone. Veronica was nervous now too, but it was more excitement than nerves. She had made it all the way across town without being detected by Slugworth, she was going somewhere new with Wonka, which was always an adventure, and furthermore, she was meeting his father, which most likely meant that this day would be twice as insane as usual. She could sense Wonka's usually brisk pace slow to an agonizing crawl and she dragged him ahead, and she noticed that, though his face was determinedly set, his eyes were flashing levels of fear that she hadn't known he was capable of. At her insistent pace, he was moving ahead, leaning on his cane and bracing his shoulders slightly, as if fighting his own urge to turn tail and run. This urge had somehow become an invisible, physical obstacle, and though he kept pace and followed Veronica, he seemed to be doing it only with great effort. Finally, Veronica laced her hand with his and smiled, and the obstacle he was bracing against all but evaporated. He looked over at her with a grateful smile, and they walked up the steps of the little brownstone together.

"Do I have to do this?" Wonka whispered hoarsely.

"Yes, Willy. He will have seen us walking up. Who else would we be looking for?"

"Fine…" And Wonka raised a gloved hand and knocked on the door.

Dr. Wilbur Wonka, D.D.S. was not used to having guests. Most especially not on Father's Day. Who would be coming to see him on a day like today? His patients knew that he would see no one on Father's Day. It was his one day a year to peruse through all the scrapbooks and albums of his only son's great accomplishments.

It wasn't necessarily that Dr. Wonka missed his son terribly. But he had told him flat out that he would never be a chocolatier. He had hurt him terribly, and had been isolated from him for so long… Dr. Wonka was proud of what his son had become, despite his insistence on a more stable career, a more stable life. The only thing that bothered Dr. Wonka these days about his son was the fact that, in all the years he had been collecting newspaper clippings, he had not once seen any indication that his son might pursue something other than chocolate. He had never been married, he had never even been formally seen out on the town with someone. Dr. Wonka was afraid that his son would end up alone, like he seemed to be nowadays.

So the knock on the door was a shock to the aging dentist. He had a sneaking suspicion of who it might be, judging by the muffled knock. Only someone wearing gloves would produce a knock like that… Dr. Wonka smiled. So maybe his son was making an attempt to rejoin humanity now… He opened the door. What was this?

"Willy! Come in. And who is this?"

"Veronica Lightfoot." Veronica said with a small smile. "I'm a friend of your son."

"Just a friend?" Dr. Wonka looked a little let down.

Veronica elbowed Wonka surreptitiously and he looked up, startled, fumbling with his hat.

"Happy F…F… Hi, Dad." He mumbled.

"I wasn't expecting guests." Dr. Wonka said trivially.

"We have reservations for dinner. We wanted to ask you to join us." Veronica smiled.

"We do?" Wonka looked horrified.

"Yes, Willy, remember?" Veronica prompted.

"Oh. Yeah…" His blue velvet eyes gazed at the polished wood floor, then flitted up and met Veronica's, flashing dark and dangerous for a moment. "Veronica, can I talk to you?" He pulled her aside. "Since when do we have dinner reservations, or did you think of everything, little Miss Smartypants!" He hissed. "You know I don't like…"

"Anything?" Veronica whispered, finishing his sentence. "What will it hurt?" She turned him back around to face his father and he gulped and forced a grin.

Exactly one half hour later, the trio was seated around a table at the fanciest restaurant the little British town could boast. Wonka was twisting his napkin in gloved hands, staring at the pristine white tablecloth. Veronica sipped water nervously, shooting an occasional glance around for a waiter. Dr. Wonka smiled a little unnaturally at the pair, as if to prompt them to act naturally. Unfortunately, this seemed to be as natural as it got…

The candles at the center of the table flickered. The soft clink of silverware and glasses filled the air around them, but Veronica, Wonka and his father still sat in silence. It had long since grown uncomfortable.

"Willy, say something…" Veronica hissed into her water glass. She stepped on his foot, a nasty gleam in her eye. Wonka started and dropped the little sugar packet he had been scrutinizing.

"Did you know that the state flower of Arizona is the…" He began, but Veronica elbowed him in the ribs.

"And no making conversation based on what you're reading off the back of sugar packets!" But she was grinning. Wonka sighed hopelessly.

"So… Dr. Wonka… You're a dentist. What's that like? Interesting?" Veronica asked lamely.

"Well… after the golden ticket contest, business increased dramatically. So I suppose I should thank you, Willy…" Dr. Wonka said quietly. Willy, who had resumed reading the backs of the sugar packets and was now stuffing them enthusiastically into his pockets, started.

"What? Oh… yeah." He grinned a little plastically.

Veronica sighed and patted his knee, causing him to leap out of his seat, eyes wide as dinner plates. Dr. Wonka was watching the scene play out somewhat detatchedly. This was his son… But on the other hand, at least he could be grateful that the boy had someone who loved him, despite his… unique qualities. After all, she had accepted his son, pointed, heeled boots, feminine features, and all. And she seemed fairly normal too. He watched her break into a grin as a flustered Willy smoothed the wrinkles in his frock coat, and carefully ensured his hair was in perfect place. Yes, she seemed like a normal, stable girl, if not a little quiet. He liked her.

By the end of dinner, Veronica found herself making lively conversation with Dr. Wonka, though Willy remained largely silent, concentrating first on his salmon, and then on a delicate dessert, eyes barely leaving the table unless to peek shyly over at her. He, more than any of them, seemed conscious of the eyes watching them. They were few, the curious glances of the patrons dining around them, but they were there, and their eyes stabbed into him like little knives. Finally, he stood with great dignity, retrieved his hat from the front desk where he had been instructed to leave it, and jammed it on his head, hiding his eyes in the shadow beneath the brim. Dr. Wonka looked at him, startled, but Veronica just sat quietly, and took his hand when he sat down again, hoping to amend for what she had done, bringing him out like this.