AN: Not much of a note this time, but I thought I'd give another disclaimer just for good measure. Once again, I don't own the rights to these characters or the movie it was based off of. I'm just a fan who would like to see the story continued.

I did have a bit of a hard time on this chapter, since a couple of events within it are very important for the story ahead. I'd appreciate any and all feedback, since I fully intend to finish this story and your reviews give the encouragement that I need. Thank you!

Mr. Wonka cleared his throat, waiting for Rowena to join him at the top of the stairs. The only light shone weakly from the door, leaving Willy and Rowena standing on the edge of a shadowy abyss.

"Now, where did I put that darn thing?" Willy pondered aloud, disappearing briefly into the darkness. From what she assumed was several feet away, she heard him exclaim, "Ah ha! There you are!" With a blinding flash, the scene before her was illuminated.

Rowena nearly fell over. In all of her wildest dreams, she'd never seen a hall so lavish or more majestic, stretching on as far as her astonished eyes could see. In width it mirrored that of the entry's corridor, though that other hall greatly paled in comparison. For one thing, the light that now shone upon them spilled forth from glittering chandeliers high above them.

With growing amazement, the astonished woman realized that each chandelier seemed to feature a different fruit. The first, which hung nearly directly over Mr. Wonka's head, had dozens of crystal pineapples dripping like diamonds. Some several feet beyond, Rowena could make out bunches of grapes and glimmering glass vines composing the next chandelier. There was nothing kitschy or silly about the designs; they were immaculate, clearly the creations of a true master.

But the beauty did not end with the chandeliers. For the entire length of the corridor, polished marble columns supported the high ceilings, and between each column hung carefully created tapestries and elaborately framed paintings. These too, she noticed, had one common element; fruit.

Going to a gold framed painting nearest her, Rowena studied it with shock. A simple girl sat beside an open window, her hand resting on a pear as though she were examining it. Something about the painting was familiar. The transparent colors, the calm expression on the girl's face…

"Mr. Wonka," Rowena breathed, her voice filled with wonder, "is this a Vermeer?" Having given her adequate time to be amazed by his wonderful hall, he returned to her side, only glancing at the painting.

"Uh, yeah," he confirmed lightly, a strange look in his eyes.

"I've never seen this before. I mean, it certainly looks like a Vermeer, but--"

By now the strange look he affixed on her had drawn her attention. Her eyes flicking nervously to his, she fought the urge to take a step back. "Mr. Wonka, what is it?" she demanded softly, glancing down to make sure she didn't have some offending stain on her outfit or if anything else was visually amiss.

"Huh. I just didn't realize how short you were," he explained, examining her from head to foot.

Hands on hips, Rowena couldn't help but smile at this. There was a reason she often wore three inch pumps, after all. Barefoot beside Mr. Wonka, the top of her golden head barely reached his chest. "Try as I might, I just can't seem to grow an inch taller," she said with a short laugh, shaking her head ruefully.

"Wear a hat," was his immediate suggestion, and he gestured with his gloved hands to his own tall hat. "That's what I did."

"So I see," she agreed, still smiling. "I'm afraid top hats aren't the popular accessory for women my age. Otherwise, I'd be tempted to try it out."

"You're passing up a valuable opportunity to start a new fashion trend."

"Fashion never really was my forte." While her outfit was flattering and pleasing to the eye, there was nothing extraordinary about it. Its simplicity was the key element, one that Rowena had always admired. Simplicity was a rule to live your life by, as far as she was concerned.

"How old are you, anyway?" He asked the audacious question so innocently Rowena couldn't see any point in feeling offended over it. She could lie or skirt over the issue, but what was the point? Age had never been a sore subject for her. It was a fact, and that was all.

"I'm 27," she told him, stepping away from him back to the middle of the hallway. "I'll turn 28 in a couple of weeks."

He only nodded in response, his eyes following her. She did not look at him, but she knew almost instinctively that he was watching her carefully. Eager to escape his scrutiny, she gestured with her arms and asked overzealously, "Shall we begin the tour, then?"

"Of course, as soon as…"

"Willy! Rowena!" Charlie's voice called from the bottom of the stairs, and mere moments later he had bounded up beside them. "Wow, Willy! This is amazing!"

"Ah, right on cue!" Willy said with a smile, twirling his cane up into the crook of his arm. "I was wondering when you'd catch up."

"I had to help my mum with the dishes," he explained with a grin. His obvious amazement of the corridor mirrored Rowena's from moments before. His eyes were wide with wonder, and Willy fairly beamed at his reaction. "This is like an art gallery, or a palace!" he exclaimed, turning in a complete circle to take it all in.

"It is wonderful," Rowena agreed.

"It's supposed to be like a palace," Willy told them proudly. "When the factory first opened, dignitaries from all over the world came to visit. Princes, emperors, queens, prime ministers, football players…they were all here. I couldn't very well have them sleeping on the floor."

"But to never use it again…it seems such a shame," Rowena said thoughtfully.

"I am using it again," he reminded her, nodding in her direction.

"Yes, but I'm not a princess."

"But you are a guest." Vaguely she wondered if she should be flattered.

"I can't wait to see what the rooms look like!" Charlie piped up, having moved further along the corridor and eyeing a tall door anxiously.

"Well, Charlie, you don't have to wait any longer," Willy assured him. He and Rowena joined him, and to her great surprise, Charlie took hold of her hand, squeezing it in her excitement. Absolutely charmed, she grinned down at him, and together they watched as Willy opened the door.

The deliciously sweet scent of fresh pineapple filled the air, and Rowena and Charlie sighed in unison. Willy stepped forward, flipping a gold switch. Light immediately filled the room. This time, Charlie and Rowena gasped. Mouths agape, they walked in slowly, unaware of Mr. Wonka's delighted grin.

The grand room was pineapple themed in every way. An identical chandelier like the one in the corridor hung in the middle of the room, shining its light on warm golden brown walls. Gold embossed pineapples glittered in diamond shaped patterns on the walls. The canopied bed that lay against the far wall was truly fit for a king, with shimmering green and gold bedding and silken pillows of every shape and size. A great mahogany armoire sported expert carvings of the fruit, and a coffee table in the middle of the room was indeed pineapple shaped.

"My word…" Rowena gasped, dragged along by Charlie to the center of the room. "It's so…"

"Delightful? Astounding? Unprecedented by any other themed room you've ever seen before?" Mr. Wonka supplied, tapping his cane on the floor.

"…Opulent," Rowena finished herself, eliciting a perplexed look from the man. "And delightful, of course!" she hastily amended, and Willy was beaming once more.

"It smells just like real pineapple!" Charlie said excitedly, inhaling deeply.

"Well, it is real pineapple," Willy told him. Their attention was drawn to the wide bowl on the coffee table, filled with freshly cut slices of pineapple.

"How do you keep fresh fruit in guest rooms that you don't even use?" Rowena pondered aloud, once again pulled along by Charlie as he neared the bowl of fruit.

"I don't," Willy said simply, sliding aside one of the many sitting cushions that surrounded the table with his foot. "Not when there aren't guests. But now there is one."

"You mean you put fresh fruit in every single room?"

"Of course not, silly. My Oompa-Loompas did. Now try a piece."

The sweet fruit was so tantalizing, Rowena and Charlie happily did as they were told, smiling at one another as the perfect pieces of pineapple touched their tongues. "This is the most amazing pineapple I've ever eaten!" Rowena said with an immensely satisfied smile.

"Well, Rowena, fruit is the essence behind many of the delicious candies Charlie and I create. My factory uses only the very best, ripest, and most delicious and delectable fruit available."

It took only one bite of pineapple to make Rowena believe that. "And that is why these rooms are fruit themed. It's a kind of homage, if you will, to the second best and most essential natural ingredient in candy making."

"The first being…"

"The cocoa bean, of course. I was tempted to make these rooms out of chocolate, but I wasn't sure if guests would appreciate going to sleep on a smooth bed of milk chocolate and waking up in chocolate syrup."

"I would!" Charlie said with a laugh. "Even if the chocolate melted all around you, you could still eat it!"

"Not everyone's as enthusiastic about chocolate as you are, Charlie," Rowena said with a smile.

"Like you," Willy supplied. There was that look again, that serious, assessing gaze that shone powerfully from his blue eyes. She was almost growing used to it, and could be certain that whatever she said next was for one reason or another being taken into serious consideration.

"I haven't had chocolate in years," Rowena agreed solemnly, her smile fading. "But that isn't to say I wasn't an enthusiast myself at one point."

"What happened?" Charlie questioned, practically unable to understand how anyone wouldn't enjoy chocolate and sweet things.

"I…" Rowena hesitated, a pained look briefly flashing across her features. "Perhaps that's a story for another time."

"No time like the present," Willy urged, his electrifying gaze growing even more intense. And somehow, oddly, strangely, for the first time in her life, Rowena was tempted to share her story, something she'd never once been coerced into doing.

"My family loved chocolate," she began quietly, her dark eyes glazing over as the memories filled her. "My mother did, especially. She had a favorite shop, just around the corner from where we lived, where she'd buy all sorts of wonderful chocolates."

"You didn't ever try any Wonka Bars?" Charlie asked doubtfully, truly perplexed.

"Well, no, we didn't. Mother only ever ate candies and chocolates from that little shop, and so did we. It was like a family tradition. Wherever our travels took us, whatever country we ended up in, the chocolates came, too. After my mother died, sweets didn't…they didn't taste the same to me any longer."

Charlie's eyes reflected true sadness, and he squeezed her hand reassuringly. "I didn't know your mother died," he told her softly.

"Hmm? Oh, yes, she died with Fitz." That seemed to be too terrible for Charlie to imagine. He shook his head slowly, and strangely it was Rowena who tried to comfort him. "Don't worry, Charlie!" she urged, unable to endure this loving child so saddened by her own losses. "It's been years now, and I've quite moved on."

"How do you move on from something so terrible?" Charlie asked with wide eyes, and for a moment, Rowena had no answer for him. How had she moved on? By burying herself in mindless work, for one thing. By leaving behind all of the memories and traditions that proved to be too painful. And that was only the beginning.

"Sometimes, bad things happen, and we just have to…move on," she told him at last, feeling suddenly mortified at the turn the conversation had taken. If she had learned anything over the years, it was that people didn't want to hear your sad stories. Even her father had banned the deaths of his wife and son from any conversation, choosing instead to blithely ignore the fact that such a terrible thing had ever happened.

To this point, Mr. Wonka had stood silently. Daring to glance in his direction, Rowena detected something new shining in his eyes. Could it be sympathy that she saw? She glanced away again, plastering a smile on her face and kneeling down so she was face to face with Charlie. "Cheer up, Charlie," she said as cheerfully as she could, squeezing his shoulders gently. "You don't have to be sad on my behalf."

"But that's what friends do," Charlie said sincerely. His simple words drove straight into her heart, and Rowena stared at him in stunned silence. Friends. That's what friends do, he had said. How strange it was to think that this young boy's assurance of friendship could mean so much to a woman of Rowena's age and experience.

"I'm so glad that we're friends, Charlie," she told him, her smile genuine now. "I'm lucky to have a friend as sweet and kind as you are." Charlie grinned, most of the sadness gone from his eyes, and without hesitation he threw his arms around her. She returned his hug unabashedly, seeing the sincere goodness in Charlie that she had found in his mother. How sad she would be to leave the Bucket family, but that was the way things had to be.

Pulling away from the friendly embrace, Rowena stood up and straightened her clothes, steadily avoiding eye contact with Mr. Wonka. Whatever his opinion on the matter was, he said nothing for now, and Rowena felt grateful for that fact. "Let's continue then, shall we?" she suggested, and the emotional moment passed.

Charlie and Rowena were led through room after room, marveling at the delicious themes of grapes, cherries, strawberries, watermelons, bananas, peaches and even pomegranates and mangoes. In each room they sampled the freshest of fruits, enjoying Mr. Wonka's eccentric narratives of the royal and esteemed personages who had stayed in each room.

Nearing the end of the great corridor, they had toured no less than 18 astounding guest rooms. Pausing before one of the two remaining doors, Willy hesitated as his hand grasped the doorknob. Turning to face the two, he smiled excitedly at Rowena. "I saved your favorite room for last," he told her with unveiled anticipation.

"How do you know it's my favorite?" she asked him quizzically, enjoying her own anticipatory feelings.

Without answering, he slowly opened the door, stepping in to turn on the lights. The scent of the room's theme rushed at them, and even before the room was illuminated, Rowena was smiling in true delight.

The room was themed with apples, her very favorite. Mr. Wonka had been right.

It was Rowena's turn to drag Charlie along, rushing about the room in what could only be described as glee. "It's incredible!" she gushed, clearly overjoyed. The room was themed in a variety of reds, similar in design to the rest of the rooms with its furniture and décor following the apple theme.

"You know what the best part about this room is?" Mr. Wonka questioned them, a mischievous glint in his eye.

"What's that?" Charlie asked eagerly, releasing Rowena's hand and moving to stand beside Willy.

"Well, Charlie, I'll tell you: it has the bounciest bed out of every bed here." Willy let his cane drop to the floor, and before Rowena could draw another breath, the pair had rushed for the four poster bed and scuttled onto it, bouncing with hoots and hollers as any young boys would.

"I bet I can bounce higher than you!" Willy taunted, and Charlie instantly rose to the challenge. Rowena watched them try to out bounce one another, grateful that this bed, unlike some of the others, did not sport a canopy of any sort, allowing them to jump without any reasonable fear of injury.

"Rowena!" Charlie yelled to her, gesturing for her to join.

"Oh, no, I can't!" she told him apologetically, smiling at their fun.

"Of course you can!" Willy insisted, and in unison the two stopped jumping. It was Charlie who clambered off of the bed, taking her firmly by the hand and leading her back to it.

"Charlie, no, no!" she cried, dragging her feet as best as she could.

"Yes, Rowena! Come on!" Looking from the boy to the bed, Rowena wondered vaguely if word of this would ever get back to her boss. Feeling reasonably sure that it never would, and suddenly experiencing the strangest desire to try out the purportedly bouncy bed, she acquiesced with a sigh and a grin, following Charlie as he climbed onto the bed.

"Now, then, is everybody ready?" Willy asked with a devilish grin, and Charlie nodded. Without further hesitation, all three began to jump up and down on the enormous bed. Rowena's jumps were timid at first, but with the encouragement of the other two, she was jumping and bouncing as vibrantly as they were. She was laughing soon, those melodious tones inspiring the same from the others so that they were soon all bursting with laughter.

After a few minutes they tired out, practically collapsing onto the plush surface of the bed. Charlie lay sprawled on his back, fighting to contain his laughter, while Rowena dropped to her knees and Willy fell back on his elbows. Somehow, miraculously, his hat had remained on his head, and his bobbed hair looked completely untouched. Winded and exhausted, the three sat in silence, waiting for their breathing to return to normal.

"You know what I think, Miss Rowena Victoria Chantilly?" Willy asked unexpectedly, rising smoothly from the bed and turning to face her. "You're not nearly as serious as you pretend to be. I wonder why you try to be so serious all the time when you really aren't."

Jaw dropping, she scrambled to come back with some kind of retort, searching for the words to deny his statement. "Come along, Charlie," Willy continued blithely, taking up his cane and heading for the door. "I promised your mother I'd have you back at a reasonable hour, and it's very nearly 8:30."

Rowena was stunned with how much time had passed. The tour of the guest rooms had proven to be so enjoyable, the time had truly flown by. It had left her tired, too, and the thought of sleep was a welcome one to her.

"Oh, Rowena?" Willy called from the doorway. "You should find everything you need in the armoire. I'll be by at eight tomorrow morning so we can finish our tour."

She nodded, and Willy bid her farewell before following Charlie into the corridor. The door clicked shut behind them, and soon their conversation drifted away into silence. Rowena was left alone, her thoughts already beginning to prey upon her.