Strange Candy

Summary: On the turn of Charlie's twelfth birthday, a new threat to the factory arises. Charlie learns how important a friend can be. Wonka learns how difficult mentorship can be. Wonka/Charlie friendship, non-slash. Wonka/OC.

Notes: To be quite frank, my dear Lady of Light, yes I can, yes I did…and yes it is. You will soon learn that I am an intolerably cruel when it comes to cliffhangers. Heh heh. Kokira—I mean, Mr. Wonka, I am indeed, a very short person. However, insinuating that I have any blood relation whatsoever to those poor Oompa Loompas is insulting. To the Oompa Loompas. You don't want to insult your own workers now, would you? Thank you for the wonderful chocolates.

I'm afraid, PucktoFaerie, that it is difficult to tell. Let's just say…If I'm smart, everyone will turn out unharmed and the world will live happily ever after. But I also have the IQ of a bag of potato chips. So there. Heh. Valerie Phoenixfire, erm…thank-you? I'm touched you were looking forward to it so much. And just so you know, it was very difficult to write that last part. I'm getting soft…SinisterChic, I hear you. Although I changed the secondary genre to suspense, I assure you there will be some April/Wonka later on in the fic. Just don't expect Nora Roberts to spring up and take over when it comes to my lame-penguin-typing-with-two-broken-pencils-and-a-blind-hamster attempt at romance.

Who's next…ah, Lynx Ryd— HOLY FUDGE—!

……

Um, no no…I…like…your reviews. In fact, I like them very much. Your reviews tell me exactly what parts of the chapter you enjoyed the most. Also, many of the things you mentioned I hadn't even realized I'd typed…wow…though…at first, when I saw them, I thought someone had reviewed and accidentally hit the 'submit review' button one too many times. But that's not the case. Hehe. Clearly. Wow. Thanks!

Serious Note/Apology: I sincerely, sincerely must not get into the habit of replying to every single review. Thus said, if I make no response to someone's review (or reply very shortly) in the upcoming chapters, it does not necessarily mean that I'm ignoring your review. It does, in fact, mean that I must not make my headers too long. I get easily vexed with people who take up half their fanfiction with review replies, so I don't want to end up vexing myself. Hehe.

Disclaimer: Consult previous chapter.

Chapter Six: Pretense of Tolerance

The corners of Mr. Wonka's mouth dropped when Charlie's eyes fluttered shut. A surge of panic overtook him and he leaned forward slightly. His trembling hand hovered in the air just before him. "…Charlie?"

To his tremendous relief, Charlie had not fallen into an endless sleep. Sometimes, he remembered, the Oompa Loompas would fall asleep and be so gosh darned exhausted that they couldn't wake up! The first time he'd discovered this was happening, while routinely visiting the Oompa Loompa sick ward, he'd ordered his little workers to take a nap during the day so they wouldn't tire themselves out so quickly.

This caused him to lapse into serious thought, which was as uncommon a thing as little boys falling into his chocolate river. What was he supposed to do now? Clearly, Charlie had to be moved somewhere he could get some proper sleep, but where? His house in the Chocolate Room seemed like the obvious choice, because there Charlie would be taken care of by his p…his p— his mom and dad.

The only problem was, there was no direct route from here to the Chocolate Room, and the boat certainly didn't run backwards up the rapids. The elevator was out of the question. How could he prevent the boy's head from cracking against the glass and stay balanced while carrying him? No, the glass elevator was most definitely a method of travel for the conscious and wary.

Which left only one option: Mr. Wonka had to carry Charlie all the way around the tunnels, up the stairs and through the Donglejuice Harvesting room, himself.

He looked down, unsure of how he would carry his cane and Charlie at the same time. In a very plaintive manner, he glanced from the boy, to the polished walking stick on the floor. Charlie. Cane. Charlie, to Cane. Cane to Charlie. Charlie or Cane?

Charlie won.

Finally, with an infamous pout on his face, he reached out and cautiously hooked one arm under the boy's knees, and the other around his back. With a great amount of effort that pulled at his face and his muscles like taffy, Mr. Wonka stood up with Charlie in his arms. He almost reeled off balance, feeling awkward both without his cane and with such a heavy burden. When was the last time he had to carry something bigger than a whicker basket?

"Fudgesticks," he mumbled, teetering backwards for a moment. Somehow he managed to topple forward again, planting his feet firmly on the floor to save himself from diving headfirst into the river of chocolate. "How does…one little boy…put on so much weight…in one little year? It must be all those vegetables. I keep telling Mrs. B about those nasty carrots and beans, but does she listen, Oswald? Nnnoooo, no one listens to Willy Wonka. Why do they think I don't put veggies into my candy mixes? It's perfectly gross, dreadful, unbelievably unhealthy, but they just don't seem to care. Am I right, furry little guy?"

'Furry little guy' was busily scampering after him as the chocolatier walked and rambled. Quickly, the ferret darted forward and clambered from his pantleg, to his coat and up onto his shoulder, where he looked down at the sleeping form of the boy in Willy's arms. Oswald's nose twitched curiously.

"Oh, I know," Mr. Wonka went on, as if the ferret had just spoken its feelings aloud. He paced briskly around the corner of the tunnel and down the gentle slope that led to the second chamber. "He needs his rest almost immediately, but not too immediately, 'cause goodness knows he just might fall asleep and never wake up! I really must-"

"You! Stop right there!"

Wonka froze where he stood and nearly lost his hold on Charlie, a complete and utterly baffled look coming across his face. For what seemed like hours, but in reality was mere moments, he stared with confusion at the two people at the other end of the tunnel. Without thinking, his cradling grip on the unconscious Charlie tightened.

"H-Hey!" he cried, suddenly recognizing one of the two people. "It's…you! The lawyer lady! How did you…you're not allowed in here!"

The woman bristled at the sight of the chocolatier. April's mind did a somersault as she registered what she was seeing. Absently, her hand shot out and rested on her partner's arm as the middle-aged agent reached for his gun. She couldn't be sure, but…

"Please…tell me that boy is alive," she said through fiercely gritted teeth.

Confused, Mr. Wonka glanced down at the boy in his arms and made a puzzled face. "Heh, alive…alive, um…you bet! He's so alive, in fact, if he were ever more alive, he'd be…fantastic." He gulped and his eyes darted sideways, towards Oswald. "What does that mean?" he whispered to the ferret perching on his shoulder.

"Okay, Mr. Wonka," said April, using her most instructive, yet demanding voice she knew. She advanced across the stone walkway carefully, ignoring the dull roar of the chocolate river. "We're just going to talk, but first…I need you to put Charlie down. We're not going to hurt him, or you. We just want to talk to you."

Willy was not about to do any such thing! He opened his mouth to speak, but yelped suddenly as something sharp bit him on his ear. "Ow! Oswald! Bad ferret, that was very bad!" he cried as the ferret leapt from his shoulder onto the ground. "Frizzled Froglegs, that hurt!"

He'd failed to realize that April's friend, the much chubbier and meaner-looking man standing next to her had reached behind him and brandished a small metal object towards him during the chocolatier's outburst. Although the April lady looked angry towards the man for doing this, Willy couldn't even begin to understand why.

"Louis, put the gun away!" April snapped, gesturing madly at him. "That is not how we're going to solve this! Put it away, dammit!"

If anything, her 'friend' Louis looked like he'd rather dive into the chocolate river than put his gun away. Mr. Wonka was simply confused by the whole thing – he had no idea what this thing Mr. Louis had and why the lawyer lady was making such a big fuss about it, but there surely was no more time to be wasting with idle chatter! Charlie needed help!

April was furious. With herself, first, for being so stupid and naïve enough to dream about becoming an FBI agent when she was little, and then at Louis for being so damn uncooperative! Knowing that steel would burn before her partner listened, she turned on Willy Wonka instead.

"Listen to me, Mr. Wonka, you have to do as I say. Put Charlie down, and we can discuss this like adults."

Willy grimaced. "Do we really have to? Adults take forever when they talk about stuff. And Charlie needs to go to the Chocolate Room!"

April threw an appraising look at the boy, who was indeed, covered from head to foot in what appeared to be dried chocolate. Her stomach twisted angrily and for a moment, just a moment, she wished that she were the one pointing a gun at Mr. Wonka, just so she could imagine…

"I think," she said dryly, "that Charlie has had enough chocolate today, Mr. Wonka. I'm only going to ask you this one more time, and then my partner will have no other choice but to shoot. Put Charlie down, and step away from him."

But Willy was also getting a little annoyed. Not only did he not understand why he needed to do as she said, but why she was asking him in the first place. Couldn't she see that Charlie was hurt? He needed his parents!

"Put him down, Mr. Wonka."

Mr. Wonka was irritated. "Okay, okay, keep you Whangsnozzers on a leash!" Gently, ever so gently as to not aggravate the boy's bruises, he lowered Charlie to the ground and stood up straight again. "You know, after Charlie saved your life yesterday and all, you'd think you would show a little more compassion for him."

"This is the most compassionate thing I've done all day," said Louis acidly, speaking for the first time. His arms did not even waver as he trained the 'gun' on the chocolatier.

"Now, step away from him," April instructed. "I'm going to come closer, to check something."

Now, letting go of Charlie was one thing. He was still in Willy's reach, which still made him feel secure, but being ordered to go out of arm's reach of the boy? Mr. Wonka did not like that idea at all. It must have showed on his face in some varying form of a frown or a twitch of his lips, for April repeated, even more sternly.

"Back away, Mr. Wonka. We are authorized to use any force necessary to protect the lives of innocents."

Willy wasn't sure how he knew, but for some reason, not doing what April told him to do felt like a bad idea. She seemed pretty sure that something terrible would happen if he didn't follow her instructions, but how could that possible be? They were over there; he was over here.

Still, something told him to back away from Charlie as she directed, and he did with utmost uneasiness. To his surprise, Miss April appeared to deflate with relief as he left Charlie's unconscious body and stopped to stand about a yard or so away.

April rushed forward and crouched next to the boy, pressing her fingers against the left side of his neck. Mr. Wonka flinched, ready to leap forward at Charlie's defense, but she only stood up again and brushed her long hair over her shoulder. "He's alive."

That seemed to make Louis, the other agent, visibly relax. But only by a little. The barrel of his gun-thingy-ma-jiggy was still aimed at Mr. Wonka and it did not look as if it were going to be withdrawn anytime soon.

"Alive," April repeated a little wearily. "But he's breathing shallow and he's feverish. It sounds like there's fluid in his lungs. He was on the verge of drowning, and recently." There was no lack of malicious loathing as she stared at Willy Wonka, for in her mind, he was the tyrant who had caused this boy to suffer.

Mr. Wonka clearly did not notice. "I told you Charlie needed help. His p…his mom will know what to do."

April only half-heard what the chocolatier was saying. Instead, her gaze was now fixed on something that had caught her eye, a slight glimmer amidst the brown, crusty chocolate that covered the boy. Slowly, she knelt down and reached for the shiny fold of paper that stuck out from the top of Charlie's pocket. She gasped as she recognized it.

"My. God. This is the Wonka wrapper I gave to Charlie yesterday!" she snapped, turning the nearly ruined bit of foil over in her hands. "This foil is evidence, specific proof that the chocolate bars were poisoned, and you…you…" Whatever restraint she had rattled against her nerves like a malevolent thunderstorm. Slowly, she stood up and pointed at the chocolatier. "You knew exactly what you saw when you looked at it! You knew you'd been caught putting toxins into your chocolate, and you just had to destroy the evidence! The evidence, and the single person who knew about it; Charlie! You tried to drown him in chocolate? You…you…bastard!"

April would very likely have gone on with her outraged accusation, had a light moan not broken the moment of silence that followed thereafter. Two sets of eyes snapped towards Charlie, who now squirmed as he began to rouse groggily from his state of unconsciousness. The boy opened his eyes, blinked and made some very unhappy grunts as he felt his bruises stir with him. But he managed to wearily push himself into a sitting position.

Only then did he seem to realize what was happening. And unfortunately, the first thing he saw was Louis, wielding a pistol, though blurry eyes. Alarmed, Charlie jerked his head around to see what this unexplained stranger was trying to shoot. And his blood ran ice-cold.

Too late did Charlie realize what the second shadow held. There was a brief flicker of light and the dulled sound of a bang. Shadow-Wonka jerked, wavered on his feet for what was surely an eternity, before then collapsing.

"No!" His voice tore from his throat hoarsely as he lurched to his feet. Blindly, he half-stumbled and half-ran towards the man holding the gun. "Stop it! You won't…I won't let you hurt him!" With that, he made a wild grab for the outstretched gun.

Louis was too startled to do much more than pull back on the gun, which was now the object of a flurried struggled. Charlie, who was understandably much weaker than the older agent, clawed furiously for the weapon. He didn't know why. He didn't want it; he just wanted it to go away. To make this man, this monster, this fiend, this shadow go away, or—

Suddenly, a pair of strong hands seized him around the middle and pulled, separating the boy from the bewildered FBI agent. Charlie struggled with all of his might against those arms, but to no avail. Whatever little energy he had regained was spent and he gave in, panting in exhaustion as those hands set him firmly on his feet, a safe distance away from Louis.

"Whew…Charlie, I think I should really…introduce you to my therapist," commented an out-of-breath, yet familiar voice from behind him.

Charlie jolted and spun around. "Mr. Wonka!"

Whatever cheerful greeting Mr. Wonka had reserved for him, however, was cut off by the unmistakable click of a gun being cocked. On his very instinct, Charlie whirled about and stretched out his arms, as if they would serve as some sort of pathetic shield for Mr. Wonka.

He could see his face and his eyes, purple, the only colour amidst the black, blurry figure. There was something odd about the way he was standing, as if he were trying to protect something from the other shadows…

"Wait! Stop! You don't understand!" Charlie yelled, when he saw the agent's gun being re-aimed. "He doesn't understand…I mean, he doesn't know what it means, or what it is! Please, he's innocent! Please…please, don't shoot…" And he squinted his eyes, waiting for any moment for that telltale sound and the impact…

A derisive snort was what he heard instead. He opened his eyes. Louis lowered his weapon and made an annoyed look. "I'm not gonna shoot you, kid," he drawled. "But I want answers. April-" he grouched, holding up a hand to silence her before she could intervene. "Not now. You've jumped to conclusions one too many times today. For now, I'm revoking your license to question the suspect, and be lucky that's all I'm gonna do, so don't complain!"

April's jaw dropped, but she quickly snapped it shut. She accepted her punishment in silence, whether it was or wasn't fair game. She shot a very angry glare towards Mr. Wonka, who fidgeted under such demeaning eyes.

Charlie didn't care what went on between them. He was still eying the gun. "No guns," he demanded. "I'll tell you everything that happened, but don't…don't point that at Mr. Wonka."

The balding man wiped his brow with his sleeve, due to the sweltering temperature of the river tunnels. Then he re-holstered his gun. "So, your name is Charlie, is it?"

Cold relief washed over him. Charlie nodded numbly. "Yes, sir. Charlie Bucket."

"Well, Charlie, my friend and I are agents of a law enforcement agency called the FBI. Do you know what that is?"

Of course, Charlie heard about them on television all the time. He even remembered watching a TV show about them once, but the picture hadn't been very clear and the audio was fuzzy. Still, he knew what they meant, and if that were true, then…

"Mr. Wonka…isn't in trouble, is he?" he said.

"Charlie, did you show Mr. Wonka that candy bar wrapper I gave you?" April cut in, heedless of what Louis had ordered her.

Charlie gasped and his hand went to his pocket immediately, feeling a surge of panic when it proved to be empty. "Oh, no! I forgot all about the Wonka wrapper! I was going to show it to Mr. Wonka today, but then-" He stopped himself before he could say 'I fell in the river'. The last thing he needed was for them to find out he'd been endangered by a creation of Mr. Wonkas'.

"Then what?" pressured April, as genially as if they were talking about last night's news.

"I…I forgot," the boy finished, a little hesitantly.

"Well, who wouldn't forget after they tumble head-first into a giant river of melted chocolate?" said Wonka, with a little laugh. It was a forced, shaky laugh. Apparently he was torn between two feelings towards Charlie's frantic concern for him. "That would definitely make an elephant forget, or so my mom used to say."

"You fell into the river? Of…melted chocolate?" Agent Wallstein's brow furled unbelievingly, but he made the pretense of tolerance. "Did the blue fairy save you?"

"Louis," April shot warningly. Not because she accepted any of this as true or even possible, but for points in professionalism.

"No," said Charlie, defensively. "Actually, Mr. Wonka saved me. I…got dizzy, and slipped. Mr.Wonka found me and pulled me out. Now if you don't mind, I'd like to go home and take a shower, and I'm sure Mr. Wonka has a lot of work to do."

Only April heard Louis mutter "I'm sure he does," as the comment was made under his breath. How desperately she wanted to slap him. As if today weren't disaster enough, there was no was she could pin this crazy chocolatier for child abuse if the boy claimed to have been saved by the man. Especially not in an international suit. However…

"Weren't not quite finished, Charlie," she said, perhaps too harshly. "There are a number of children in Gladwin, Michigan who have been poisoned by small increments of diphtheria, ingested through the chocolate in Wonka candy bars."

There. She'd finally said it. Pity the poor boy had to hear it, though, she would rather have left him out of the situation. Her resentment was reserved for Willy Wonka alone.

A raw lump formed in the back of Charlie's throat. "What?"

"No!"

That startled them all for a stunned moment of silence. It was Willy who had made the outburst. His face was rigid, even twitching. His hands wrung themselves as the material of his gloves squeaked, portraying just how frightened he had become.

"Mr. Wonka knows what I'm talking about," she said conversationally. "Don't you, Mr. Wonka?"

Wonka looked like a lost four-year-old who had just been hit by a snowball. His mouth opened but no sound came out. For a painfully enduring moment, he seemed to flounder with a thousand words at once but could not seem to work them out with his lips.

In truth, Mr. Wonka was truly baffled and horrified. Poisoned? From his chocolate? Such a thing was not possible. Wonka chocolate was not like any other chocolate in the world! It was pure, untainted and never touched by humans, let alone anyone who would want to put poison into it!

"We can't issue an arrest, nor shut down the factory by law," April went on, ignoring Louis' furious glare. "None of the families wish to press charges. We can't release it to the media – thousands of people will become involved and the Bureau wants to keep the issue covered. We can't even take Mr. Wonka into the International Security office for questioning. That would be stepping over the legal boundaries for handling foreign criminals."

Charlie's face flushed angrily when he heard this. "Mr. Wonka is not a criminal! All he's ever done was make chocolate and invent new kinds of candy to share with the rest of the world! He wouldn't ever hurt anyone on purpose!"

"Charlie-" Willy started, sounding curiously stern.

"It isn't true, Mr. Wonka!"

"Oh, it's true," said April. She crouched down, eye-level to the boy. "Charlie, I asked you to give Mr. Wonka that bit of tinfoil because it had traces of the mold left behind by diphtheria on the inside of it. I know it's difficult to believe that Mr. Wonka would ever hurt someone, but sometimes grown-ups do things for reasons you might not understand…"

"Stop it!" he cried, wrenching away from her outstretched hand. How could she even suggest that Mr. Wonka would do something that evil? He backed away towards Willy. "I don't believe you. Even if it were true, he's still not guilty! You…don't know him."

He could tell by her unchanging expression that his words were having no effect. April gave him a look he supposed she thought was a trusting one. "Charlie, you shouldn't be afraid to tell me anything. If there's anything at all that you want to tell me about Mr. Wonka, I promise that you won't be punished for it. Did Mr. Wonka…hurt you?"

"No!" Charlie blurted heatedly. "Look, it was my fault I fell into the river! If that's so important, why don't you arrest me for being careless? That's what you really want, isn't it?"

April sighed and tilted her head forwards, unsure of how she should respond to this. If this child were acting for the sake of not angering Mr. Wonka, then he was definitely the best actor she had ever met in her twelve years of service in the bureau. She stood up. "Louis, let's go."

She turned around, fully expecting a red-faced Wallstein to bear down on her like a ton of bricks. Instead, she saw nothing. "Louis?"

The older agent was nowhere to be seen.

Mildly shocked, she spun on her heel to face the boy and the chocolatier. They were both gone. "Mr. Wonka!" she said sharply. Her voiced echoed on the walls of the tunnel. "Mr. Wonka! Charlie?"

Not surprisingly, the only answer she received was the serene bubbling of the chocolate as it flowed along in its riverbed. A sudden movement caught her eye and she snapped her head towards an open door in the wall. No, she thought. Not open. The door was glass, and behind that door stood Charlie and Mr. Wonka. The chocolatier had one gloved hand resting on the boy's shoulder.

Charlie looked worried. But April was not looking at Charlie, she was staring intently at the face of the chocolatier. Mr. Wonka wore an expression she'd never expected to see on the lunatic's face. It was steel, cold, and clear. There was no mistaking what it meant. Leave Charlie alone.

Those three words might have well been drilled into her head. A moment later, the room around the pair jerked and sped out of sight, leaving April dazed. An elevator! And one made of glass; the notion didn't even seem possible…

But then, today had been the most surprising day of her life. And among those surprises was the strange look on Mr. Wonka's face, almost as if he were daring her to take the boy away from him. Surely it couldn't be possible that this madman harboured any love for the child? That was almost as absurd as a python befriending a field mouse.

This man is full of mysteries, she thought angrily. And I'm not going to stand here untangling them. That bastard Louis is going to explain very soon why he didn't stick around for the tearful goodbye.

With that extremely unhappy thought, she turned and stormed away. Soon, she would get to the bottom of this, even if she had to break the rules to get there. She would slap that smug little grin from Willy Wonka's face with the hand of justice.

Sneak Peek: Terrible things come in twos for Charlie.