Disclaimer: I don't own anything from Tim Burton's Corpse Bride

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"And so en', who's the new chap?" Tom asked over a lunch break which consisted of discount canned tuna. All of Tom's lunch mates lifted their heads a little in the direction of the new comer, whose eyes darted around nervously at the floor with all of the attention.

"You mean the gangly one with the peaky complexion?" George replied, "Well didn'tcha know that's Van Dort Jr. and I hear he's come to work here with his father since the guy's getting on in his years."

"Interesting," Tom pondered, "he can't be more than twenty." Tom chewed on his tuna for a second longer before asking, "We should call him over. What's his name, then?"

"I think it's Vincent." George replied and the others shrugged in agreement.

"Hey Vincent!" Tom called out gruffly to the young man, "Come and join us won'tcha?" The poor Van Dort boy seemed to freeze up in a panic, perhaps thinking that if he stopped moving that the others wouldn't notice him. After a moment of this Tom turned back to his company with his mouth full of tuna half opened and an 'is this guy for real?' kind of expression on his face. The others shrugged again. And the Van Dort boy stayed frozen.

Tom finally had an opportunity to talk to the fish merchant's son later in the day when the pair of them was gutting fish together. At first Tom decided to stay quiet because lunch had been so awkward but Van Dort kept making feeble noises as he shelled out fish innards. "Are you alright, then?" Tom finally asked.

Jerking his head up, Van Dort nodded apologetically, "I didn't mean to bother you." Tom felt sorry looking at the boy in the international 'don't hit me' stance.

"You aren't bothering me t'all." There were a couple more moments of silence before Tom started up again, "You know the smell? You get used to it an' all. Give it a month or two." The younger man nodded but didn't look very convinced. "You aren't a man of many words then, Vincent?"

"Victor." The boy said.

"Huh?" Tom replied.

"Umm, my name is Victor, not Vincent." Victor wriggled his fingers around in the working gloved. "I'm afraid my conversation skills leave something to be desired."

"Ah, that's okay, Victor. I'm sure you make up for it with other amiable qualities." Tom smiled as he cut through a particularly nasty fish which sent Victor over the edge. He turned green and flew off to the nearest bin.

After returning to his post Victor added, "I'm a bit squeamish as well."

Tom shrugged it off, "S'all right, some of my best mates have been a bit thin skinned." Victor tried to smile and so did Tom; simultaneously Victor's knife slipped from his hand and stabbed into the matting just an inch off of Tom's foot.

Victor's smile vanished as he gawked, "My apologies, I-I, I my. Oh dear, dear. I, um…a bit clumsy too I should say." Victor scratched the back of his neck and then went to grab the knife out of the mat.

Tom was starting to lose faith in any redeeming qualities Victor might possess. He tried to joke, "Better hold onto that sucker with two hands." He chuckled nervously and mock held his gutting knife with two tight hands.

"Of course, yes, two hands I should agree." Victor was now pink. Soon, gutting resumed and silence settled back into the environment except for the methodic sound of knives and fish guts.

Lunch came the next day, and so did the canned salmon. "Nice variety, isn't it?" George nudged Victor, who was the newest member to the lunch table. Victor was unable to tell if George was being sarcastic or not so simply nodded and chewed on the fish a little more animatedly.

There were no real guidelines to be a part of the lunch group. Some were old, some were new. Some married with a handful of kids and others were all on their own. Victor would have fit in perfectly except that he happened to be the owner's son.

William was tottering in the distance and Victor noticed it right away. Tensing up he began to chant quietly, "Please don't come over here, please don't come over here, please don't come over here…" Whether Tom just wanted a good laugh or slight retribution for Victor almost cutting off his toes the other day, he called out, "Why hello, Mr. Van Dort, nice day today, iddn't it?" William beamed and chuckled nasally as he made his way forward. Victor went into the not moving, not being seen panic tactic again (poor lad).

"Why hello, Tom!" William's mustache bristled a bit, "Hello George, Avery, John, Mayhew, and me only son and pride, Victor!" William chuckled…again. Victor died inside…again. "I see you're making lots of friends already, Victor. I told you that work was the place to meet people." William added for the other workers, "Poor boy never had any friends at school."

"Dad!" Victor curtly said and added pathetically, "please?"

William chuckled.

"So," George started, "Victor here is going to run the company someday, isn't he?"

"Well, I imagine so," William answered, "although he doesn't show very much…potential for the type of work, you know?"

"Daaad!" Victor withered.

"That's only to say, he's more of an intellect." William added. The other men nodded (Victor could tell that it was with sarcasm that they did this). "He plays the piano quite well and he's always reading or drawing—"

"That's enough, really, Dad." Victor tried to interrupt.

William just completed his thought as though Victor hadn't said anything, "--butterflies."

Avery chimed in, "Well how lovely is that, sir. You've got quite a strapping son. My little girl also likes drawing them butterflies, maybe she and Victor should have a play date."

William saw no joke and was only confused. After bristling his mustache again, he left saying, "Well, then, looks like the fish cart has arrived. Come along Victor, let's get and inventory count." If Victor had been a dog, his tail would have been between his hind legs as he followed after his father.

As time went on, the workers got used to Victor's peculiarities and a routine fell back into place, although whenever anyone gutted with Victor, they kept a safe distance away. Lunch was the same as always and Victor had made it a habit to bring some paper and graphite with him to draw rather than eat. What had once been a joke to Avery was now admired because Victor really did have a talent for drawing his butterflies.

One day Victor had tried out drawing a large bass, but when he got to the mouth he drew a cartoonish frown. "I don't think I can go on working here very much longer." Victor rarely said a word so all eyes were upon him. "I'm all wrong for it…" he looked around, "You all know it; I nearly filleted John yesterday after I slipped on some fish guts." The others shrugged and nodded with a murmured agreement of, "Yup" and, "It's true". Victor had hopped for some more advice or condolence, but it didn't come and everyone went back to their canned fish.

It seemed to be a common thought around the company that Victor lacked any enviable, manly traits. He lost to every arm wrestling competition in seconds with his tiny arms. He flatly refused to join in spitting contests after he spat one day in the town square and it hit a passing carriage window with an encrusted "E" on the side. Victor grimaced when the others shared their scars. He turned a deaf ear whenever the conversation turned to the girls at nearby taverns. He simply was lacking and no one could toss him any advice on his career problem.

It all changed. Victor had been out in the town square at the vending station; his small form swimming in the company apron as he sold a can here and there. Suddenly across the way, the Van Dort mansion doors burst open to reveal Nell in a flutter. She bounced down the first few steps and waved her arms about madly as she shouted in Victor's general direction, "MAYHEW! Get over here NOW!" Victor glanced backwards at Mayhew who shrugged back at him in return. As efficiently as the hunched man could, he left his vending position and hopped on top of the carriage to bring it around to Nell. Nell could be heard the whole time shouting about the importance of good service and how she lacked it. Victor was turning shades again.

Victor hadn't any clue of where she could be going, but he started to worry as the carriage came his way. Sure enough it came to a halt at Victor's feet and Nell shimmied out of the carriage. "Where on earth is your father, Victor!" The woman was in a frenzy and her little fan was working overtime; something big had happened.

"He's just inside the store, Mum…what's happened?" Victor seemed to be at a lack for air and loosened his collar.

Nell didn't hesitate to ignore Victor's question and proceed into the fish store. Victor was once again alone with Mayhew. "Do you know what's happened?" Victor asked worriedly.

"Dunno, but she's having a cow about something." Mayhew laughed and coughed and Victor turned his attention to the shop. He could hear his mother's brassy voice ring through the walls, but the words were incoherent. Soon he heard his father's nasally voice join and the pair made their way out of the store. They were talking amongst themselves, though Victor and everyone else could hear the conversation perfectly,

"How should we tell him, William?"

"Just like we told him about his dog's death…with a joke."

"Sounds good to me"

Both parents nervously laughed for a second longer before finally acknowledging their son. "Say there Victor, heard the one about the veterinary assistant and the obituary?" William started.

Victor looked more than a little annoyed, "What is going on?" he flatly asked.

"Not in the mood for a joke then?" William asked and Victor stayed stony, "Well then, right onto business."

"We're moving up the ladder, Victor!" Nell squealed, "You're going to lead us there."

"I'm doing what?" Victor was anxious.

"Well, Of course you're of age, son," William started up again, "and the opportunity has risen."

"What opportunity?" Victor's head was shaking in confusion.

"It was just in the post this morning, a letter from the Everglots." Nell seemed to think this explained it all.

"What was in the post?" Victor tried to keep his patience.

"You'll make a great match I'm sure." Nell continued.

Victor didn't like the sound of that, "match?"

"Yes, match, partnership, union…" Nell rang a list.

"Pair, couple, newlyweds!" William chuckled.

"New-eeeewly, newlywhats?" Victor was turning from pink to white.

"Newlyweds!" both parents shouted in joy and Victor fainted onto Mayhew.

Victor was slicing a fish through on his last day before he would be taking leave for the wedding. "It's not all that bad, Victor," Tom was saying, "I mean, wasn't it you, who was ready for a change from this place?"

"I suppose…but I wasn't asking for a—a—bride." Victor had trouble getting the words out. "Let alone the one I'm going to get. She's everything and I'm nothing…and I spit on her carriage window that one time." Victor slumped a bit.

Tom couldn't help laughing a bit; neither could Mayhew. "Maybe you could play at being mentally challenged?"

Victor elbowed Mayhew, "I don't think that will help." He angrily chopped a fish head off.

"What's she like?" Tom asked.

"I haven't a clue, I've never met her. I don't even know what she looks like, really. She never comes out of that house." Victor seemed hopeless.

"Well, don't look now, mate, 'cause she's just stepping out of her carriage." Tom said slyly.

Victor's eyes started look up, then went down in shame, but curiosity brought them back up. There was a little old woman with bun on her head, he thought he'd fallen for Tom's joke, but then the young Victoria Everglot made an appearance. She looked as nervous as Victor felt as the old woman handed her a parcel that must have contained her wedding dress. Victor's breath was short suddenly and he felt compelled to look at the girl. Victoria then looked up and met Victor's gaze, the two were locked into each other for a moment. They both must have known who the other was. Just as soon as Victor thought he would die if she looked at him any longer…she smiled. The moment was over and the two women across the square walked into the Everglot home.

All of the men prodded Victor in the side, "You suddenly look much cheerier…rosier if nothing else." Tom teased, but it was true, Victor felt something new for the soon to be marriage. The kindness in Victoria Everglot's smile gave him something to hang on to. He felt sure that everything would work out. The wedding might even go off without a hitch.

End

A/N: This was supposed to focus on Victor's life at the factory, but of course the wedding had to take over everything.