I do not own anything from Charlie and the Chocolate factory. All rights and likenesses belong to Roald Dahl, Johnny Depp and Tim Burton. No profit is being garnered from this work. After one more night of tumultuous eliminations (we split a bottle of Jack Daniels when things got too rough), we actually have some palatable choices to start work on the next round of Loompa Idol. (Incidentally, once you have heard a great rendition of 'I feel Good' by the next possible Godfather of Soul, life feels pretty good!)
– Stealth Phoenix
Chapter 23
Sleep banished, stomach refueled and demons temporarily put to rest, Veronica plunged back into the studio to work once more. Her days and nights ran together as time lost all meaning to the demands of her intense concentration. Often after a challenging step, she took a step back to realize that hours had flown by without notice. Her body hurt and her eyelids felt like sandpaper. Taking a short break to stretch, Veronica was astonished to note that her head and neck had welded itself into a solid painful red-hot lump of lead.
This wasn't the first time she'd explored her ability to work and focus for long periods of time, but this was the longest she'd ever done so. Checking the computer – she was shocked to note that it had been in fact nearly two days since her cat-nap on Sherman's couch after her session.
Wrinkling her nose at her wafting B.O, she decided that it was time for a break and to refuel before plunging onto the next section. This step promised to be a long and arduous session and she needed steady hands, relaxed mind and clear eyes to complete it the way it needed to. She was taking no short cuts here.
After ensuring her work was cool enough, she carefully constructed framework from balsa wood poles and draped the drop cloth over it to ensure no inadvertent peeking as she exited and entered. Veronica made sure her equipment was safely on standby - no hot sugar left on the stove and no heat lamps burning before leaving the room.
She walked slowly toward the Wonkavator – her limbs heavy and eyes dull. Veronica hated taking breaks. It seemed so pointless and it just reminded her of how much she still had left to do and she never felt rested since the harpy of her conscience wouldn't let her relax.
There was no Wonkavator, so she pressed the recall button and waited. Crossing her arms, she reminded herself of why working so hard was so important. Besides honoring the small people she had come to like and respect, it was her challenge to herself to finish the project on time for Willy.
Willy. Veronica's mind paused on that thought as an island of respite from the whirlwind of self-imposed pressure. She missed him desperately. Willy had a way of looking at a situation and helping her realize how stupid it was and making her laugh about it. His moments of silliness interspaced with pin-point laser accuracy observations of human nature. His magical mind jumped from point to point in seeming nonsensical ways, but she could follow him. The depths and breadth of his knowledge were staggering.
It had been a long time coming, but she missed the casual contact of a touch on the arm, a comforting hug and those delicious kisses. Those kisses that told her so much, yet were at odds with his wonderful naivety with normal male/female interaction – his puzzlement was an endless source of delight to her.
She leaned against the wall and smiled at her thoughts, even as she heard the approach of the Wonkavator, zooming from locations unknown behind her.
Veronica missed Willy's beautiful sparkling eyes when he was excited, his ridiculous pouting when something didn't go his way. She missed his wild flailing and high-pitched complaints or arguments when they disagreed. Most of all, she missed those slow smiles and smirks that invited her to share his delight or a shared secret.
Veronica heard the Wonkavator arrive and she opened the door to see the object of her thoughts waiting within.
Willy looked worn out himself. There was the shadow of stubble on his cheeks and his eyes looked sunken and bruised. The normally impeccable attire was rumpled from long wear and he carried his jacket draped over one arm.
Like she was one to talk.
Still, his eyes lit up with delight and a smile crossed his face upon seeing her – making him look rather like some debauched gentleman returning from a night on the town to her eyes.
"Hi!" he said, jabbing a button and moving to one side to allow her entrance.
"Hey." She said, taking a moment to study him – her senses trying to adsorb as much detail as possible for future reminiscing.
"You stopping for the night?" he asked, casually – he was obviously looking at her in the same way.
"Just taking a break. I looked up ten minutes ago and realized it was two days later than I thought it was," Veronica smiled ruefully.
"That can happen. I feel like I blinked and missed today after working in my invention room." Willy admitted. He switched the jacket to the same hand balancing on the cane and tentatively reached out for her hand. She took it gratefully and relished the warm contact.
"I missed you," she whispered, wanting nothing more than to collapse in his arms and sleep curled into his warmth.
"Me too," he said, pulling her closer to wrap one arm around her shoulders in companionable silence.
They rode out the abrupt shifts and changed in direction in quiet enjoyment – taking pleasure in simply being in the presence of the other.
"Reggie called. They're back from their holiday. Needless to say he's begging for a visit from you." Willy rumbled softly against her.
"Hmm? Already?"
"It has been almost two weeks. You should probably go see him. We're also due an update from Det. Cavenaugh tomorrow sometime – do you want in on that?"
"Yes please. I'll call Reggie after I get a shower. I reek."
"No you don't you smell…well not your normal wonderful self…but not bad either."
"So you're telling me that I stink in a nice way?" she asked, leaning her head back to watch his face with a smile.
"Umm…maybe I should rephrase that."
"Nah. I love honesty."
Willy's hand ran gently up and down her arm in a soothing gesture. She enjoyed the contact and closed her eyes against the painful glare of lights as they flashed by. She really needed sleep, but there wasn't enough time.
"You know, you don't have to meet the original deadline if it's going to do this to you," said his soft voice apparently following her thoughts.
"Yes I do. It has to be completed for the Exodus Ceremony. It means so much to both you and them. I won't let you down." She said, not opening her eyes.
"What good is that if you drop dead from stress and exhaustion before then?"
"I'm not going to drop dead. I need to do this for you," she said, realizing that her brief respite was over and taking one last breath of his sweet peanut brittle scent.
Veronica moved away from Willy as the Wonkavator slowed to a stop and opened the doors. "Listen, I need food. Would you care to join me?" she asked, tentatively stepping out and turning to face him. She didn't want to stop the exhausted man from finding his bed.
"Yes! Only if you take a shower and join me for a private meal rather than yet another sandwich," he smirked at as her mouth opened in protest. "Uh-uh. I know that's what you've been living off of, and as a proper host I refuse to let you subsist on such sub-standard fare."
She was ready to object when her stomach let out such a loud howl of protest that she shut her mouth and blushed at the noise. "See! She knows what you need. Go on. I'll join you in your room with a meal after I get cleaned up myself." Willy beamed in triumph.
Veronica could only nod and Willy bowed and blew her a kiss as the doors closed and the Wonkavator shot off once again.
She hurried inside her room and shucked her clothes wildly. No telling how fast he was going to be back and no way was he catching her naked in the shower – not after catching that last impish gleam in his eye. She grabbed jeans, underwear and Willy's brown silk shirt before lunging for the bathroom.
As she turned on the water, she grabbed her razor and lathered up her legs – giving them a quick swipe before showering. Steam filled the room and her nasty sticky-feeling hair stuck to her face and the back of her neck. Grimacing, Veronica hopped in groaning with the wonderful heat beating through her body.
Relaxing, she took a moment to mentally take stock.
Physically: She was toast – running on reserves. Fueling and sleep were required to function further.
Mentally: Surprisingly well.
Opening her eyes and grabbing the shampoo, she explored the new scabs on her memories. Her psycho-therapy with Sherman had gone a long way to diminishing her panic attacks. With his help, she was able to revisit Marcus's attack without going into full lock-up. That was something the expensive therapist her parents had sent her to after the attack had never accomplished – then again that therapist had never actually listened to her and was more interested in keeping his eye on the clock than helping.
Thanks to his help, she was able to recite the details – details she last spoke in court to prosecute. Each repetition got easier, but Sherman had warned that he would no longer give her the tea to help her get through it. She tested the memories and found them still painful, but not as overwhelming as they used to be.
It was her personal goal to be able to tell Willy what kind of damaged goods he was pursuing by the Exodus Ceremony on Christmas eve. Veronica felt that with her hard work – both on the sculpture and with Sherman – she would be able to tell Willy in a factual way what had happened to her.
Rinsing and slathering her thick hair with conditioner, she quickly lathered her body. Her legs shrieked as the soap slid over irritated skin. She ignored that as she ignored the demands of her muscles to sink to the bottom of the tub to curl up and sleep in the warm rain.
"I was in my last year of college. I was working part time and pursuing my degree work in culinary arts. As I never dated in secondary school and as a result I was quite naive and inexperienced with boys. In return I was safely ignored by them," Veronica closed her eyes and recited, the shower keeping her body relaxed even as her heart started to race.
"Then I met Marcus…"
She worked her way through, stopping frequently to let the shower rinse away tears and to choke back sobs. She pushed on as her body told her that she was in danger, to stop talking, that she was dying. At times she felt strangled, like she couldn't breathe, that her heart going to explode. She ignored it and fought past the threatening edge of the panic attack
She pushed to continue her tale.
She pushed for her future, to leave this terror behind.
She pushed and fought for the sake of the wonderful man who was coming to see her shortly, who she longed to be with, mentally, physically and spiritually.
Veronica fought for love.
By the time she was finished, she was shaking and her throat was raw with repressed tears. Her breath burned and the water was cooling rapidly. Veronica quickly rinsed and shut off the shower, tired but triumphant. She had done it – and without the safety of the emotion-clouding tea.
Sounds of someone moving around in the outside room caused her to snatch the towel off the rack and clutch it to her body in fright. Willy was already out there! How long had she been in here?
"Hello?" she called, roughly rubbing herself dry and hissing at the small cut on her knee from the razor.
"It's just me!" Willy's friendly voice called back. There were more clangs, thumps and it sounded like a squeaky wheel.
"I'll be out in a second!" she yelled. She tried pulling on the jeans, but they clung stubbornly to her legs, not sliding on smoothly. Veronica cursed and jumped up and down, tugging with careful strength to pull the damn things up. They reluctantly obliged, but not without pulling painfully on her skin. She hated putting on jeans while still damp!
Grabbing the silk shirt, she ignored the underwire bra to pull it on over her head before wrapping her hair in the towel. Bloody thing was too uncomfortable to wear for long periods anyway – the shirt was large enough to get away with going without it. Roughly drying her hair to remove as much moisture as possible, she then hung the towel back up.
She opened the door and gasped with relief as the cold air flowed into the steam-filled room.
Willy waited, comfortably dressed in plum shirtsleeves and black pants with a black velvet smoking jacket. His fashionable black boots had been replaced by stocking feet thrust into the wild crimson and black slippers she had bought him. His hair was still slightly damp and the dark strands clung appealingly to heat-flushed cheeks. It was apparent that he had taken the effort to shave, the tender skin of his face still pink from the razor. He had left the top hat elsewhere and was comfortably seated in one of the two wingback chairs that sat before the small fireplace of her room. A wheeled cart sat in between the two chairs, various dishes were covered with silver domes.
"I hope you're hungry." He said, pulling the domes off with a flourish. Beneath lay tender slices of London broil, asparagus, roasted potatoes and beside the plate was a basket of fresh baked rolls with a small dish of light golden butter. The smell alone was enough to almost make her swoon.
"Oh! Gimme!" she said and trotted on bare feet to sit cross-legged in the chair across from him.
In a twist that was pure Willy Wonka, he poured glasses of thick chocolate milk to drink with their meal.
Veronica quickly cut the meat and shoveled a bite into her demanding mouth. Rolling her eyes with pleasure, she groaned at the wonderful taste. "Oh God! This is so good!"
Willy caught himself staring again, and redirected his attention to the meal before him. Never mind it was actually breakfast time outside, the flavor of this meal knew no time limitations. His thoughts warred within him.
She's doing it again, Bob whined. Did you see the way her nipples poked up when she came out of the bathroom?
Of course I did.
And the way she moaned and rolled her eyes when she took a bite?
How could I miss it. Now leave me alone – I'm trying to be good here and not stare.
Lesson learned then – watch and enjoy, Bob smirked.
Bringing up topics of light conversation, Willy and Veronica spent the meal talking in between bites. It was something they both missed. Between the two of them, they pondered the deep mysteries of the universe, delving into mystic matters of time and space, of the nature of the human mind…
"How can you say that the old Star Trek was better than the new? Kirk was such a mimbo! The man managed to get his shirt ripped off while just in the elevator to the bridge for cryin' out loud!" Veronica protested, waving a half-eaten roll in emphasis.
"Remind me again, what's a mimbo?"
"Male Bimbo – you know, banging any female of any race across the galaxy? Shatner used any excuse he could to make sure his shirt would get ripped off in every episode to show off his hairy chest and whatever female guest star was on that week had to throw herself into his arms."
"It's better than the whole PC mission of the Next Generation," Willy said sarcastically. "Oh sir! The Borg are attacking!" he mimicked wickedly, "Break out the anger management pamphlets – that'll teach them a lesson."
"Okay – but you have to admit, Q was a much better villain than the old klingons," Veronica said.
"Only as a duex ex machina – he was too powerful to use as a regular character."
"Was not! He was a regular enough character. They just had to take away his powers to make him work. Otherwise, can't you see him chasing Troi around the ship blipping her into those stupid uniforms from the old series?"
"I did have a thing for Uhura and all those short skirts…," mused Willy, absently munching on an asparagus spear.
"Spock was the brains, Bones the heart and Kirk was the gonads. It's that simple, follow the prime directive of non-interference but ignore it if Kirk thinks she's cute. He probably only trotted out that Prime Directive line when the girls tracked him down for child support," Veronica's rant was cut off by a huge yawn. She covered her mouth genteelly, but knew she would have to get moving quickly unless she wanted to fall asleep where she sat.
Willy saw this and grinned, "Okay – I can take a hint. I'll take this mess and head out so you can catch some sleep."
She shook her head vigorously, making the wild hair dance around her face.
"Can't. I need to work. Shit, no! I need to call Reggie first."
"Call him then take a few hours to crash," Willy insisted, gathering plates in a haphazard stack and replacing the dome on top.
Veronica just glowered at him, "Willy."
"I'm letting you work, I just don't want you making yourself sick in the process," he said, rolling the cart out the door to be picked up and returned to one of the kitchens.
She reached for her boots and clean socks and started stuffing her cold feet in, "Your concern is noted."
Willy returned and knelt by the side of her chair, taking her hands into his and looking pleadingly into her eyes.
Aargh! He was attempting Puppy eyes™!
She rolled her eyes and huffed, "Willy."
"Please. Why are you doing this to yourself?" he asked softly.
Veronica looked down for a moment at their clasped hands. To be fair to the man kneeling beside her, she had to let him know what he was growing into for her.
"Willy. My dear Willy," she sighed.
His heart soared as she breathed his name.
"The reason that this is so important for me is because I want to stand on my own two feet and be worthy of you." She said softly. She stroked her thumb across his long slender fingers in their habitual latex. "I appreciate all the help you've given me. But if you are truly interested in knowing me beyond a simple working relationship I have to be capable of bringing more to it than my problems. You deserve so much more than that."
"I want you to be able to look at me and know that I'm not someone you have to tend like a pet. That I share with you my own strengths and experiences, not just my weaknesses. Most of all, I don't want to become an obligation," she said, looking firmly into his eyes.
"My greatest wish is that you don't look back and think the only thing I was after was Willy Wonka, the world's greatest Chocolatier."
Holding Willy's eyes with her own, she carefully released one hand to slide her fingers up to the edge of his glove by the soft skin of his wrist. Slowly, as if expecting him to stop her, she slipped the stretchy material down and off his hand, revealing long pale fingers. Gently, she took the hand once more in hers.
"I want Willy Wonka, the warm, wonderful, loving man."
Willy closed his eyes at the tactile seduction, feeling the rough texture of her scars, the strength in her fingers against his exposed skin.
His eyes flew open as she raised his hand, palm up to place petal soft kisses on each fingertip and a slow caress with her lips to the center of his palm, her delicate breath tickling his flesh.
She leaned over and placed a final petal soft kiss on his cheek before rising to leave for his office to use the phone to call Reggie.
"I'll prove myself to you - and hopefully be worthy of your love. After all, you already have mine." she whispered, stepping past him toward the door.
"Wait." Willy's ragged voice called out.
She turned only to be caught up in his arms for the most passionate kiss of her life.
His soft pink lips were hot and demanding against hers, yet infinitely gentle. He cradled her like fine Venetian glass. Her breath came in short panting gasps as his tongue demanded and received permission to her mouth. He tasted like the finest wine and the rough texture of his tongue as it twined around hers made her groan in lust. His arms convulsed around her body at the sound wringing a soft moan of his own in response. His gloveless hand slipped through her tangled hair as if memorizing the wild weight of it.
Willy pulled away slowly, his lips bruised deliciously with the force of his kiss – her heavy lidded eyes met his darkened passion-glazed ones and a smile of seductive promise crossed his face. He reluctantly let her loose.
"You have nothing to prove to me Veronica. But I know you have something to prove to yourself. I am a patient man and no matter what happens, I will be waiting for you." He bowed and moved past her to the door. She almost staggered from the loss of him.
"Just don't kill yourself in the process." Willy called.
Then he was gone.
Whoa! She thought, pressing her fingers to her still tingling lips. Her cheeks felt flushed and she suddenly noticed the sweet sting of friction across her nipples from his shirt. She buzzed with arousal. For one wild moment, she wanted to chase him down, tackle him and resume that wonderful embrace.
So distracted was she, it took a few minutes to realized with delight that there was no doubt this time her usual tense response was nowhere in sight.
Veronica strode out of the room to the waiting Wonkavator, a silly grin plastered across her face and not caring. Willy's kiss was better than a triple espresso to wake her up and give her energy. Her resolve was firm and her conviction strengthened as she strode in and pressed the button for Willy's office.
What a kiss!