I do not own anything from Charlie and the Chocolate factory. All rights and likenesses belong to Roald Dahl, Johnny Depp and Tim Burton. Negotiations are continuing for Oompa Loompa services in exchange for chocolate-covered espresso beans – if the amount they're asking for is accurate these guys are jittery as hell or there are a lot more of them than first supposed.

Side note: The movie industry lost a titan Sunday with the passing of Stan Winston, master creature maker. Rest in peace, Stan. – Stealth Phoenix

Chapter 8

Veronica looked up in keen annoyance from her intense research into aboriginal artwork of the Indian/Jawa Ocean Islands. There was light reflecting off the screen from a strange angle making it difficult to see. She squinted for a moment then turned to glare at either of the men who had hovered over her most of the night trying to peer over her shoulder.

No one was there – and the light in question was the sun rising.

Mildly surprised, she turned to check the time on the computer – 6:38 a.m. Damn, she'd worked through the night without realizing it.

Veronica also realized, rather embarrassed, that sometime in the middle of the night, the pestering questions she had been ignoring had turned to pleading to turn the bloody computer off and go to bed, then finally the blessed silence had been the couple retreating to bed themselves.

She collected the impressive pile of printouts and sketches into a neat stack and rose to make breakfast. It was the least she could do for crashing their apartment and hoarding their computer.

She had just crafted beignets sprinkled with powdered sugar and chocolate dip when Reggie staggered out of the bedroom, heading for the heavenly smell. Veronica said nothing and smiled – he was barely conscious, moving on instinct alone. She poured him a cup of coffee, slid it over to him and waited.

It took two piping hot beignets and a cup and a half of coffee before Reggie looked up and grunted, "Morning."

Veronica took this as an invitation for conversation to begin. She sipped her own light sweet coffee and quietly apologized, "Sorry Reggie. I hope I haven't bugged you too much."

He waved a hand dismissively, nose buried in a long swallow. "Don't worry about it. I was just worried that you had finally snapped. I know Wonka is a secretive sort and I'll make sure Spencer won't pry. You know I won't."

Veronica's heart swelled and she leaned over to hug her brother. "Thanks Reggie. "

"What time did you crash last night?" He asked, running a hand through tousled dark brown hair – making it stand up in new and unusual ways. His hair was always a source of entertainment in the mornings.

"I didn't – I only stopped when the glare from the sun hit the screen making it impossible to see."

He shot her an irritated glance, "Ronnie, you're going to be a train wreck by the time Mr. Wonka shows up."

She shook her head, "No – I'll splurge on my fallback boyfriend – Mr. Coffee. In fact – depending on how the day flows, I might indulge in a triple espresso mint mocha. Mmmmm….mocha!"

"Mocha? Who's buying?" interrupted Spencer strolling out of the bedroom fully dressed and ready to go for the day.

"Well, look who's looking perky this morning? What catastrophic event has dragged you out of bed at this uncivilized hour?" asked Reggie, giving Spencer an approving once-over.

"Other than this manna from heaven? I've got a showing this morning at 8:30 and need to get the samples in order. Tim Burton's back in town doing some sort of remake of "Dark Shadows," He grabbed a travel mug and fussily placed a few beignets on a napkin for transport without showering powdered sugar everywhere.

"Spence – I want to make sure that you understand that Mr. Wonka is not a topic for popular conversation. I had to sign a non-disclosure agreement and get the verbal OK to even mention this much to you," Veronica said.

"No worries, Love! I swear by his tailor – which you have GOT to get the name of for me pretty please! – not to divulge any juicy details or even a vague suggestion that you are employed. In fact, who are you again and what are you doing with my lover, you tramp?"

She laughed and turned to Spencer to give him a hug and a peck on the cheek as well. "You really are too good for me."

"Yes, I am. Now excuse me – I've got to fly."

He hurriedly gave Reggie a kiss and smile and headed out the door.

Reggie shook his head in amazement at the antics of his partner – the man he was voluntarily choosing to marry, "Thank you Hurricane Spencer."

Veronica chugged the rest of her coffee and stuffed a beignet in her mouth. "I've got to get back – mind if I borrow your shower?" she asked around the mouthful of mush.

"Go ahead – indulge darling. I don't have to be at work until 10, so I plan on indulging in a few more beignets and coffee while reading up on the news. The shower is yours if you're done with the computer."

Nodding, she bustled to the bedroom and the promised bliss of the first hot shower in almost a month.

Willy had also worked the whole night through – although he was used to this and rather enjoyed the dubious pleasure of waking up various parties with his requests.

Tupik-Ra entered the Invention Room where Willy had sequestered himself this morning trying to catch up for weeks of neglect. He waited for the tall man to finish his current project, holding a blow torch to a line of licorice and a thermometer.

Willy cackled to himself in glee for a moment when the line snapped under the intense heat, "42.8C - If it gets much hotter than that, the kite will be on fire anyway! He turned to another Oompa Loompa who was taking notes for the candy-maker. "When Charlie gets back from school, let him know. I think this one is ready for production – roll with it would you?"

Willy lifted the welder's mask to reveal the pale features underneath and removed the heavy leather gloves. "Is that the building purchase?" he asked Tupik-Ra. The lawyer bowed and handed the thick sheaf of documents to the man. Willy hurriedly donned a pair of bright blue latex gloves this time and quickly paged through to find the stick arrows indicating where his signature was needed.

The Oompa Loompa seemingly read his employers mind and produced a pen, which was gratefully received and wielded with emphatic flourishes. "There – is there any stipulations about when I can start making changes?"

Turpik-Ra shook his head. Willy grinned with manic glee, "Excellent! Let Orville know that the building is ready for work and have the assembled team meet me here ASAP. "

He turned and marched over to a work table jammed with bottles and flasks of steaming, bubbling and in some cases, humming ingredients. Opening a drawer he pulled out a handful of wax paper wrapped treats with the consistency of saltwater taffy.

This was one of his most secret creations – made exclusively for his Oompa Loompas.

When he turned, a group of seven Oompa Loompas in massively oversized jumpsuits had lined up awaiting his orders. He handed a taffy to each and upon his signal, the candy was unwrapped and eaten. Under his watchful eye, the bodies of his seven workers started to stretch and grow.

First their limbs lengthened then torsos and heads. Within a minute of eating the treats, the Oompa Loompas were the size of full grown English adults. The jumpsuits were now of an appropriate size and the workers shuffled in place grinning at each other, getting accustomed to their new size and perspective.

This was the same team of Oompa Loompas that had left the factory three years prior to post the notices to the world about the Golden Ticket contests. It had taken weeks of extensive training to get used to their new sizes enough to ride the scooters used for transportation. Willy intended to take advantage of that experience and training now.

Willy shucked the welder's mask turned to face his workers in shirtsleeves with the heavy leather apron still covering his torso.

"Your job today is to go to 145 Bradshaw St, and go to the offices located on the top floor of the building. This is going to be the location of an artesian candy kitchen for our struggling artist. I want to get the renovations done as quickly as possible. The equipment is the same as the ones in the factory – in fact it's some of ours that needed to be updated anyway. The rest of the materials should be arriving within the hour. The taffy should be good for the rest of the day, but if any of you have any problems, don't hesitate – take cover in the truck and get back here ASAP.

He paused in his pacing to regard one of the workers who seemed to loom over him. "Nei-Vil, were you this tall before?"

Nei-Vil shrugged, "I think so, there were a lot of basketball jokes floating around."

They both shrugged and the Chocolatier continued, "There is some special communications gear I absolutely need to get set up today, so make that your priority."

"Any questions?"

There was a general glancing from one another and nudging before Nei-Vil raised his hand, "What about side-trips?"

Although the Oompa Loompas were fiercely protective of their world, they were also intensely curious about their adopted. This was an unrivaled opportunity for them to explore.

"Finish up early, and you can hit the Karaoke bar on Cherry Street on the way back – but be back here no later than sunset – I can't guarantee the taffy beyond that."

The crossed their hands and bowed. Nei-Vil managed to bump heads with Willy.

"Ow!"

"Sorry Mr. Won-Ka! I'm still getting used to this height – how you people manage to walk about so casually without toppling over is a mystery to me," Nei-Vil complained.

The extra-tall Oompa Loompa staggered back and together the group headed out of the Invention Room to head to the loading docks where their equipment and tools had been loaded.

Willy rubbed his head for a moment watching his workers leave and then returned to his various experiments. He had a lot to try and get through before tonight.

Veronica ran around her apartment in a flurry – thanks to a timely call from Mr. Wonka's secretary this afternoon, she now had a small advance to pay for little things.

Like food…

… And electricity…

…and glorious life-giving triple espresso mint mochas.

When she had turned on the lights for the first time in weeks – she was mildly horrified at the dust that had gathered in the corners and by the floorboards. Veronica was grateful for the caffeine-buzz as it gave her the ability to clean like a particularly civic-minded tornado.

The apartment, smelling like bleach, floor cleaner and fresh vacuumed air, never looked better – which really wasn't saying much.

The office overhead must have gotten the word from Mr. Wonka, since before she had returned this morning there was a crew of workers hammering furiously, pushing equipment and band-sawing like there was no tomorrow. She was tempted to go up to see the progress, but wanted to wait until Mr. Wonka arrived.

Veronica sat at her desk reviewing her notes again. Her ideas were arranged by category and she had arguments for and against arranged for all of them. There was a knock on her front door and her eyes shot to the microwave clock – too early to be her expected visitor.

She opened the door to see one of the workers from upstairs. He wore a dark blue jumpsuit and baseball cap. Dark skin crinkled at the corners as he smiled with bright white teeth. "Ms. Carmichael?"

"Yes?"

"Good afternoon – I am sorry if we were disturbing you. I am Ori-Vil – or Orville if you wish. Mr. Wonka asked me to check in with you." The man's deep voice resounded musically.

"It is a pleasure to meet you. Which do you prefer? Ori-Vil or Orville?" she asked offering her hand.

He regarded her hand for a moment then slowly shook it, "Orville, please. Would you care to inspect our work before we depart?"

Veronica had done research all day – she didn't miss the hesitation before shaking or the aborted bow as she opened the door. Could this be one of Mr. Wonka's mysterious workers? She decided to try some of the customs she had been reading about to see if her guess was correct. She grabbed a treat off the counter and with her keys in hand hurried out the door.

"I would be delighted," she turned to shut the door and followed Orville up the stairs.

He showed her the keypad lock, "You need to select a combination first, Ms. Carmichael."

She thought briefly for a moment, then selected a series of numbers and punched them into the lock. Orville carefully monitored the process – the light flashed green a few times then paused. "Okay – one more time please."

She typed the number again and the door clicked open. Orville pushed through and motioned for her to follow.

The space had been transformed. Light wood cabinets lined a u-shaped industrial kitchen area, heat lamps, stainless steel tables and lots of overhead lighting made the formerly dim space shine with promise. Refurnished wood floors shone warmly under the natural light. There was a 4-seat conference table in one corner and a strange desktop computer set up on one counter. It had a web camera and microphone set up attached. There was an icon spinning on the screen.

Veronica paused – amazed at the change in 24-hours. She cautiously approached the area and snooped into cabinets and drawers. The kitchen was fully equipped and stocked, ready to be used. There were even speakers so she could plug in her I-pod.

Orville went over and typed on the computer for a moment. "The security system is up and running. There is only one access point into and out of the room – the door you just entered. You are going to have to type your pin code again when you wish to leave. If someone attempts to open or leave another area – alarms will sound and the security protocol will capture and detain the intruder. Only Mr. Wonka and I have the codes or bypass permission. Is this clear?"

She nodded and regarded the equipment with satisfaction and joy deep in her heart. "Thank you Orville, for you and all your friend's hard work. Please give my gratitude and appreciation to Mr. Wonka for his generosity."

Then to Orville's surprise, she crossed her arms and bowed, then rose to present a small bag to him. "They're chocolate-covered espresso beans. I hope you enjoy them."

He quickly returned the gesture with a wide grin and said, "Thank you! Please let Mr. Wonka know if you need anything else."

In wonder, he left the building to join the rest of the Oompa Loompas in the truck. As they drove away, they clustered around Ori-Vil. "What did the outsider woman think?" "Was she pleased?"

Ori-Vil displayed the bag of chocolate-covered espresso beans, "She thanked us most properly – with this gift and with proper respect - most surprising!"

"We've got about two hours before sunset – what now?"

Ori-Vil leaned back in satisfaction, still mildly uncomfortable in this extra-long body, "Head to Cherry Street – we boogie!"