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. Inspiration struck on this chapter - so who am I to argue? Shout out goes to Tozi for the kind words - welcome to the story! – Stealth Phoenix
Chapter 51
The plane landed on the steaming Los Angeles tarmac little after 7 a.m.
Veronica collected her coat and bag and stepped out of the plane feeling more than a little disoriented. She'd been traveling since 8 a.m. London time and it messed with her head to realize that what felt like mid-afternoon was still early morning to everyone else.
I need coffee before I ponder the realities of time travel, she thought wearily hefting the ever present messenger bag across her body.
After hitting the restroom to empty about 12 of coffee out of her system and grimace at the reflection in the mirror after traveling, she staggered out of the terminal to face the prospect of trying to get to the hotel the District Attorney was supposed to meet her at.
I love how they insist that I come out here to testify, tell me where to stay for "security" reasons then forget to have someone meet me at the airport, she grumbled, fighting the little rolling suitcase's desire to tip over as she walked.
There was a long line of taxis waiting outside the huge glass windows and she pondered taking a cab or waiting around for her point of contact to finally show up. She felt exposed, like thousands of eyes on the target on her back. It was hard to balance her paranoia about Victor coming after her with the sheer frustration that was traveling. She wasn't sure who to trust or who to avoid out here.
L.A. and Tupik-Ra were supposed to meet her at the hotel since they were traveling separately. The Oompa Loompa lawyer's small size made it difficult to travel and packing him in a suitcase was inhumane.
No matter how many lawyer jokes had floated through her head when L.A. mentioned it.
She spotted a young man in a dark blue business suit and plaid tie trotting toward her, closing his cell phone, "Ms. Carmichael?"
"Depends on who's asking?" she said distantly, quickly locating various means of escape if this was someone after her.
"Billy Wright, L.A. DA office. Sorry, I got held up in traffic, I tried calling your cell phone…" he started, brushing some of his highlighted brown hair out of his eyes.
"I don't have a cell phone," Veronica said flatly, backing up a step or two to give her room to swing in case he made a grab for her. Her previous exhaustion faded with the fresh surge of adrenaline. "May I please see some identification?"
The man looked embarrassed, "Oops. Sorry." He flipped open his wallet and showed her his California driver's license. The pictures matched and in the wallet was a business card from the DA's office.
"I called the number that Jack gave me," Billy was explaining. Jack Sinclair was the lawyer from the office that had contacted Veronica initially. Her fears faded slightly, but there was still a hefty amount of skepticism.
"That was my home phone number in Britain. May I borrow your phone to check your credentials?" she said, plucking the phone from his hand without waiting for his response.
Veronica punched in the number from the DA's office from memory – only hesitating as she mentally removed the country and area code from her dialing. This would be a local call after all if his claims panned out.
"Billy – you better have not screwed this up," growled the flat American accent from the other line after barely a ring. The voice sounded familiar, like the one she'd been speaking with during long preparatory sessions over the past two days before coming out here.
"Jack? It's me. Did you send this young man to pick me up?" Veronica asked, watching Billy's face carefully.
"Veronica? Yeah, I did. Is that why you're calling from his phone?" Jack asked, surprised.
"Indeed. I just wanted to confirm his identity and to let you know that I have arrived safely," she said, giving the young man a nod and a smile.
Billy's face relaxed and he returned the smile.
"We're gathering at the Hotel at 9 a.m. Your friends have already arrived, although I'm sorry to hear about Mr. Tupik's ear infection. Poor guy was staggering all over the place," Jack chuckled.
Veronica chuckled with him, but not for the same reasons. Tupik-Ra had been reluctant to take some of the stretching Taffy that Willy provided all his workers who were going beyond the gates of his factory. L.A. had assured him that she would help him adjust to the new height and proportions, but apparently the lawyer had put off the change until the last second and wasn't used to being taller yet.
"Well then, I'll return the phone to Mr. Wright and we'll be on our way," she handed the phone to Billy and he listened for a moment before clicking it shut.
"Let's hit the road then, since traffic is a nightmare. No need to make you a bigger target than you are right now," he said briskly, trying for a more professional mien and failing miserably.
They exited the Airport to jump into the small grey car that was illegally parked outside the terminal entrance. The terminal police had placed a ticket on the windshield and were watching the car with a careful eye. Billy waved to the cop and veered off into traffic.
"Damn it! That's the third one this month!" he grumbled, dropping the flimsy yellow sheet into the backseat.
Veronica allowed herself to relax for the moment. Mentally, she reviewed the list of people to call once she hit the hotel to let them know she'd arrived alright.
Willy was first. His mournful violet eyes and blank expression as she had pulled away in her cab that morning from her apartment was heart-breaking. His tender affection and obvious love for her made it incredibly difficult to maintain her light-hearted façade for the upcoming trip.
Their last night together before they had parted was her most treasured memory...
--
Willy had arrived at her apartment to find her humming over a sizzling stove. Music blared over the speakers as she danced around the kitchen, preparing the simple dinner for them. He quietly removed his key from the lock, placed his hat on the table by the door and his cane into the umbrella stand to watch her dance for a few minutes, a wry smile on his lips and a soft look in his eye before deciding to surprise her. He had managed to slip up behind her and clasped his hands over her eyes.
Veronica shrieked and whirled to pelt him with the wooden spoon.
Willy cried out in surprise and staggered back, "Ow! Hey!"
"Oh my God! Willy!" she cried, eyes wide with alarm. She grabbed her dishtowel to dab at the red sauce from his face and head.
"I'm so sorry…wait a minute," she frowned, throwing the towel at him. "No, I'm not sorry. You should have learned your lesson about sneaking up on me by now."
She'd been strangely on edge since the attack on Reggie and Spencer, Willy pondered. Probably a good thing since he'd heard no word about who was responsible.
"Geez! I'm the sorry one. You're right – I solemnly swear not to ever sneak up on sexy women cooking me dinner ever again," Willy said, raising one hand. He noticed that the offending glove had what looked like tomato sauce on it and had to take a taste.
Veronica had to smile at the Chocolatier. His brow was furrowed, mouth parted to allow his flickering tongue to delicately sample her efforts. She had to quell a surge of desire as she watched that pink flickering muscle and remembered what it had felt like upon her.
He stood straight, smacking his lips for a moment before smiling brightly, "Mmm! Taste great. The garlic and the wine go good together – and do I detect a bit of my Super Select Ultra-Dark Chocolate in there as well?"
"Indeed you do – I like the touch of bitterness that complements the sweetness of the tomatoes," she said, cracking the oven to peer inside. The delectable smell of roast chicken and herbs filled the kitchen.
Willy tried to peek over her shoulder, but she slammed the door shut and turned to glare, "My surprise. Shoo!"
He shamelessly collected a long kiss, his arm stealing around her slender waist. She had to agree that the sauce tasted good as she allowed his tongue to plunder her willing mouth – even better when he was the platter it was served on.
"Keep that up Mister and we go to bed hungry," Veronica said breathlessly as they parted.
"As long as we go to bed," Willy was close enough she could feel his breath puff on her swollen lips when he replied.
One thing had led to another and she had blindly shut off the stove and the cook top as Willy snogged her senseless. Their frantic explorations led to yet another new room being consummated.
As they lay panting on the wooden floor in the kitchen, Veronica mused, "We're going to need a lot of bleach before we eat off that table tonight."
"Although, I kind of like having that kind of reminder when we eat there," Willy said, waggling his eyebrows. "Gives 'eating' a new definition."
"Enough of that," she scolded, a bright blush rushing up her face.
"Yes, Ma'am," he chuckled, holding her close.
The sun was setting low in the sky and a warm yellow light filled the space, the golden glow of the oak floor warming the kitchen and its inhabitants. Shadows were growing deeper as the sunlight dimmed and she reveled in sensation of resting quietly in his strong arms.
This was a perfect moment, she realized suddenly. One of the few moments in life that summarizes everything where all was in perfect focus and clarity. Veronica did her best to remember every detail – the grain of the wood under their bodies, the way the rays of sunlight streamed through the window to the darkening apartment, the smell of tomato sauce and Willy's body where it rested under her cheek.
"Veronica?" Willy rumbled under her cheek.
"Yes?"
"When you get back from L.A. and get Victor taken care of…"
She sat up to look at him. He was regarding her – his face showing every flicker of emotion. Doubt, love, fear and hope warred across his features. He struggled with his words, uncommonly clumsy in this emotional nudity.
"W..w..Will…" he stuttered. Willy pushed himself to sit upright, cupping her face in his soft hands and gazing into her eyes.
"Will you marry me?"
Breath froze in her lungs, her heart stopped in her chest all sound leeched away as time and the universe stood still.
Her perfect moment now only included one thing – Willy Wonka.
The love she felt for him was like standing in the heart of a supernova – blinding, cleansing and reborn.
His violet eyes were pleading, the infinite amount of his love and hope shining through raised tears in her eyes as she struggled to breath, to move.
"Oh, Willy," Veronica breathed, clasping one hand to her mouth and feeling the warm slide of tears running down her face.
She flung herself into his arms, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him violently even as sobs wracked her body. This was it – after all she had struggled with, the torture and pain, this was her pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. Willy had become the sun in her sky and that he felt the same way to ask this of her was a divine blessing.
"Yes…Yes! A thousand times, yes!" she whispered into his ear as she clung to him.
He crushed her to him as a wide grin broke across his face. He closed his eyes and said a quick prayer of thanks to the God who allowed Veronica to come into his life. He released her long enough to snag his pants, lying discarded near the kitchen table and pulled out the small red velvet box.
Willy waited with an expectant grin as she opened the box. A surprised bark of laughter escaped her and a few more tears leaked out. Inside the box was a wide band of red and white gold, twisted around each other to resemble a candy cane. Knowing as he did, that her work involved using her hands, he'd known that a simple band was more appropriate.
He slipped the ring from the box and over her right ring finger, "You told me once, that you were mine for as long as I'd have you."
"And you said, forever," Veronica said softly.
"Now you know I mean it," he said, smiling at her and leaned forward to collect another kiss.
Perfect moments in time are rare things – when a person comes across them it is a challenge to recognize and preserve them in memory. This was hers.
They never did get around to dinner that night.
--
"Being beaten into a bloody smear is one thing – I really can't complain about it. Simple violence is an easy enough drive to understand. But I hope the bastard that broke my leg gets some horrible venereal disease and ends up with flaming boils all over his testicles," swore Spencer as he was struggling to pull on the athletic shorts Reggie had brought him from home.
Reggie, fresh from the hospital the previous day chuckled at his lover. "Here, let me help. Sit back."
He leaned over and helped the other man loop the shorts around his foot and to pull them up around the thick cast that covered his leg.
Reggie had woken up the day before yesterday with a slight headache, but much improved from when they had brought him in. The doctors had been amazed at the amount of healing his stitches had undergone and the bruises that covered his face were fading rapidly to an ugly green yellow.
Spencer, likewise, had undergone a quick recovery. When they wheeled him in for the CAT scan in the morning, the dark splotch of blood present on his previous films of his brain were gone. The doctors had immediately reversed the medication keeping him unconscious and he awoke that morning complaining about his aching head and the discomfort of a broken leg. With nothing further keeping them there, the Doctors were forced to let the men leave – grumbling about the inability to keep them for future study
Silly Doctors.
Reggie looked up at the knock on the door. He saw a top hat waving from the cracked door, "Come in Willy. Spencer's up and dressed."
Willy Wonka pushed open the door and replaced the hat on his head, "Good Morning, Starshines – the earth says 'Hello!'"
"If you're waiting for a chorus of "Age of Aquarius" you'll have to wait until we get home," Spencer said, smiling weakly at the dapper Chocolatier, "I'm afraid the nursery would be quite upset with all the howls of protest I'd get from the babies."
"You look like you're in a good mood for someone whose girlfriend just took off for the opposite side of the world," Reggie remarked as he gathered up Spencer's things and returned them to the backpack he'd packed for him.
Willy gave him a secretive smile, "I'll tell you when we get you guys back home. Are you ready for the thrill of a lifetime?"
Reggie and Spencer exchanged glances. They were still bruised and battered and looked like they'd been beaten within an inch of their lives.
Which they had.
"Depends on what the thrill is – I think climbing Everest is out for the afternoon, but you might want to check back with us next Thursday. We might be able to fit a "thrill of a lifetime" in before tea," Spencer drawled.
Willy let out a high pitched giggle and Reggie couldn't help the smile that crossed his face at the sound.
"No sillies. I mean for your transportation home this afternoon – I brought the Wonkavator."
Spencer clapped his hands in joy and Reggie rolled his eyes. Honestly, it was like living with a 7-yr-old at times.
"Will it fit the wheelchair?" Reggie asked.
"Yep. Now, come along and don't dawdle. I've got clearance on the helicopter pad for about 10 more minutes," Willy grinned, spinning on his heel to exit the room.
"It is safe, right?" Reggie asked, grabbing the chair from Spencer who was frantically attempting to wheel it out behind the Chocolatier.
"Yes. Ronnie swore it was safer than Alton Towers." Spencer whined, nudging the chair forward from his over-cautious lover. He always wanted to ride in Willy Wonka's marvelous Wonkavator.
I'm going to regret this, Reggie thought as he slung the bag over his shoulder with a muffled yelp of pain as the movement pulled on his stitches across his abdomen. He pushed the giddy Spencer to the elevator where Willy waited, hand on the 'open door' button.
They reached the top floor and rolled out onto the open tarmac of the helipad on the roof. A glass box with boosters sat in the middle of the pad. Willy pulled out a key ring and hit a button. The Wonkavator gave an electronic chirp, like a car alarm standing down, before the doors automatically opened.
"Still no Wonkavator thieves?" Spencer snickered as they wrestled the chair inside and took up positions on either side, hugging the transparent walls.
Willy punched a bunch of buttons at the same time, ignoring Spencer for the moment. "It'll take about 10 minutes in the air. I'll bring us down on the roof and get you delivered safely home. Just as I promised your sister this morning."
Veronica had wrangled the promise from him with Reggie as a witness the previous day after escorting Reggie home to rest after being discharged from the hospital after his "miraculous" recovery.
"Okay – you're still grinning like a maniac. Spill. Why're you so happy about our Ronnie being gone?" Reggie demanded.
Willy stared at the ceiling and hummed under his breath with a smirk on his face as the Wonkavator blasted off. Reggie gasped and grabbed a purple strap hanging from the ceiling. They flew in silence, marveling at the scenery as it whizzed under them. Most of the snow had melted, leaving the buildings and street grey and dirty looking.
The Chocolatier turned to the two men, "I'm not sure I should tell you. She might skin me alive if I let the cat out of the bag too soon."
"Oh – going to be like that are you? Well, Mr. Fancy Chocolatier, I just want to say ….eek!" Reggie's bluster broke off as they swerved down and to the right, circling over their brownstone building. Spencer hooted and held his hands in the air like he was on a ride at an amusement park.
Spencer must have been hitting the painkillers a little too hard, Reggie grouched.
"Okay – you say 'eek' like a little girl, noted, quoted and wroted," said Willy.
The Wonkavator set down gently and the doors opened. Reggie pulled out his own massive set of keys and unlocked the utility elevator. Willy pushed Spencer onto the elevator and had enough room to turn him to face the door, still humming that maddening tune under his breath.
They got to their floor and Reggie unlocked the door. Willy gently nudged Spencer inside while Reggie dropped the bag with relief and closed the door behind them.
"Okay Willy, you've tortured Reggie long enough – please tell us why you're practically tap-dancing with happiness," Spencer said, taking a deep breath. It was good to be home.
Reggie spotted a blinking light on the answering machine, "Wait a second – it might be Ronnie. Let me listen to the messages first."
Beep
"Mr. Carmichael? This is Detective Cavenaugh from the Metropolitan Police Department. I got word that you and Mr. Talbot were to be released this morning and wanted to inform you that we're keeping an eye on you two until after the trial gets done in California.
Their faces were frozen in surprise. Willy's smile disappeared in an instant and he whirled to stare at the machine in horror.
"While we can only suspect Brahm's involvement, but we would rather not take the chance of anyone else getting hurt. I've spoken with Ms. Carmichael and let her know about our suspicions and she's said that she'll take precautions on her trip. In either case, this mess will be wrapped up by the weekend. I'm glad you're home from the hospital and hope your recovery goes smoothly. Give me a call if you have any questions. Good day."
Beep
"Veronica said that there weren't any suspects," Willy said softly to himself
"That's true – but Cavenaugh hinted that this might be connected to that slimeball," Reggie said. He noticed the look of shock on Willy's face. "I thought you knew – that was why she was traveling with your lawyer and L.A."
"They didn't travel together. L.A. and Tupik-Ra had to take a separate flight – they left yesterday," Willy hastily explained, starting to pace.
His expression darkened, "She deliberately kept me in the dark on this. Why that little…."
"Who? Who kept you in the dark? Ronnie?" Spencer asked, worried.
"Yesss…" Willy hissed through sharp white teeth.
His gut was exploding with anger, fear and betrayal – his thoughts swirled around his head.
"Little sister trying to take the burdens of the world on herself again," Reggie sighed, taking a seat on the arm of the couch. "Bloody girl is always trying to take on more than she can chew without telling me what's going on. Hell, we didn't even know she was that close to eviction when you first hired her."
"She promised me. We made a promise not to keep things from each other," Willy muttered, hands clasped behind his back as he paced furiously, cane tapping at the backs of his knees.
"Veronica wouldn't have told you – she's trying to protect you," Spencer said gently. "She only does that with those she loves. Everyone else she usually just gives them the shaft and tells them to go bugger off."
Willy stopped suddenly, his violet eyes distant, face still. Her fears about going alone, her jumpiness when he approached her last night. They all made sense now.
"I shouldn't have asked. I should be able to do this without dragging you away from here like a child with her security blanket"
Veronica had been terrified for her own life and too sensitive to his own fears about leaving the factory to ask him to help her.
Damn it!
"Gentlemen. I hope that you found the trip satisfactory and that you have everything you need. I bid you a good day – I'm going to California," the Chocolatier said in a neutral voice.
"California? Willy wait a minute," Reggie yelled as Willy turned abruptly and headed for the door. "Why do you need to go there? She's supposed to call in a few hours time to let us know that she made it alright – she's still in the air for Christ's sake!"
Willy paused, watching him from the corner of his eye.
"Why should you head across the bloody pond to ride to her rescue her when she may not need it?" The dark-haired man pleaded.
"Because I love her. The woman I am going to marry is in trouble right now, even though she may not realize it. She's too mule-headed to ask for help when she needs it. Excuse me." Willy said quietly as he stalked out of the apartment, closing the door on their astonished faces.
"Did he just say he was going to marry my sister?" Reggie asked, stunned.
Spencer just shrugged.
--
Veronica slouched in the passenger seat, head resting on one hand as they waited, yet again at one of the numerous traffic lights in the downtown area.
Billy kept assuring her that it was "a couple more blocks" for the past 45 minutes. She was tired, her head was beginning to hurt from the poor air quality and bright sunshine and she missed Willy terribly.
She glanced down at the pink and white metal fondly, her mood perking once again after seeing it.
It wasn't just a dream.
Willy's steady support was the only thing keeping her going at this point - that and the determination to eliminate this danger from her past that threatened them.
My mess, my clean up.
Idlly, she watched the busy people in the cars as they were stalled in traffic. The average citizen of Los Angeles seemed to have a fully functioning office in their cars - pagers, cell phones, BlackBerries, IPhones, IPods...the list was endless.
Veronica squinted to see how much progress had been made. Bright as the sun was, she'd need to slather on the sunscreen when she got to the hotel to prevent the painful sunburn that seemed to haunt her everytime she spent more than 10 minutes in full sunlight. Reggie had always teased her about having the complexion of a vampire.
At least she had more color than Willy...although she coulf really use his sunglasses at this point, she was going blind out here.
She toyed with the ring on her finger, spinning it absently, "No wonder everyone wears sunglasses out here."
"Huh?" Billy asked intelligently.
"Never mind."
There was some sort of commotion up ahead, two people standing in front of a fender-bender were screaming at each other and into their cell phones with equal fury instead of pulling their vehicles off to the side of the road and discussing things like the sensible people.
Bloody Idiots.
Veronica was startled from her reverie when someone approached the driver's side door and pulled it open without warning. A Hispanic man, clean-cut features, clean denim shirt and pants held a semi-automatic gun on the two startled people.
"Get out," he ordered Billy.
Billy fumbled with the clasp of his seatbelt and was viciously ripped from his seat and tossed out into the street by the gun-wielding man.
Veronica held up one hand in protest, fumbling with the clasp of her own seatbelt to jump out of the other side. Her heart was pounding in terror and she could hear herself whimpering softly as her fingers fumbled with the mechanism – fear making her clumsy.
"Not you," the man said. She yelped as the rear backseat door on her side swung open and another similarly dressed man hopped into the backseat.
A hand clad in a rough leather working glove with a white cloth in it grabbed her from behind, slamming her back into the headrest. She gasped, the pungent smell of whatever was on the cloth making her head swim dizzily.
Veronica's heart kicked up to overdrive as she clawed at the hand over her face. The gunman was forgotten in this primitive fight for clear breath. She inhaled slightly and her vision started to dim, the heaviness in her limbs dragging her down into the waiting darkness.
Willy help! She thought weakly.
She gasped involuntarily one final time and the fumes drove her into unconsciousness.
The man waited until she had taken a few more breaths of the chloroform before giving the nod to his accomplice.
Billy Wright, of the L.A. DA's office could only watch in horror as the carjackers jerked his vehicle in a tight circle, clipping the fender of the person in front of him and sped off in the opposite direction to disappear around a corner.
"I am so fucked!" he wailed falling to his knees in the street.