Chapter XIII : The Spies
A/N: You know what they say about blondes…
*roundhouse kicks open the push/pull door* Review!
"You think you've got it figured out, you think you got it in control." - Leisure Cruise (Wake Up the Ghosts)
Flashbulbs pop in his face but they cannot rival the brilliance of his smile. 'The World's Best Chocolatier, Willy Wonka' will be the headline of every newspaper, magazine, and tabloid tomorrow. He's just returned from a two-week trip to India where he has built an entire palace of chocolate - that melted to the ground, but the press doesn't care about that part. His name is on the lips of everyone with eyes and ears, and on the candy in their hands, too.
Red carpet events seem to fill his every weekend. Fortune 500 listed Wonka Chocolate Company as the sixth highest-grossing corporation last year, just after General Motors and Exxon Mobile.
He turns once more for the cameras and walks away from the step-and-repeat banner. The gaudy orange is clashing horribly with his brown and turquoise striped suit. Julius is waiting for him a little ways away with two martini glasses full of something pale green and probably much too strong, because the press doesn't care about Slugworth's Candies.
Julius Slugworth is actually quite an intellectual even if it comes off rather forced, and attractive in classical way despite his unfortunate last name. It's Sebastian and Moriah who are the dumb ones, always trying to pawn off his work. In the back of his mind he suspects that Julius is helping them but he doesn't want to admit it to himself, at least, not yet, because what he has with Julius is so different from what he has ever had with anyone else. And Sebastian and Moriah aren't here tonight, just Julius and himself, and technically Julius is only here as his plus-one, but that's beside the point.
He can worry about the spies tomorrow.
He came back back to the present with a sharp breath.
Francis must have joined the scene right after that, he reasoned. That was the last year he had ever been truly happy.
After the awards ceremony the long table and all the chairs were cleared away and the room turned into a dance floor. Desserts and delectables of all sorts were set out on small tables dotting the edges of the room.
Francis stood with Charlie by the table that held her cake - a true masterpiece in white and gold - watching with some amusement a flustered Wonka attempting to escape over-zealous party-goers.
"Do you think we ought to go and rescue him?" asked Charlie.
"I don't see why - wait, actually, yes!" A blonde girl had joined the knot of people and simultaneously caught Francis's attention.
The people dispersed as Francis walked up, all except the blonde girl.
"I'm Francis, in case you're deaf and blind," said Francis after it was clear the blonde was not leaving anytime soon. "You are … ?"
A short pause. "Maurine." She smiled self-consciously.
"Pleasure to meet you," replied Francis in a manner that suggested it was anything but.
Maurine glanced left. Francis followed her gaze to where Wonka had been standing earlier. He was now absent.
"I'll be right back," said Maurine to no one in particular, and faded into the crowd. Francis tracked her progress out of the ballroom out of the corner of her eye.
"If you'll excuse me," interjected Francis politely after Maurine had left the room. She vanished into the crowd leaving Charlie rather stunned in her wake. What a strange interaction he thought.
Maurine nearly ran down the hall, would have actually, if she were not wearing heels. There was a small balcony off of the hallway where the elevators were, and she spied Wonka leaning on the railing with his back to her. Maurine crossed the hall and put her hand on the handle of the sliding glass door. And then someone else put their hand over her mouth and another on her wrist, vice-like.
She startled but Francis did not remove either of her hands.
"I don't think so," whispered Francis, and tugged Maurine back across the hall and down some service stairs to a janitorial closet.
"You're going to kill him aren't you?"
Francis slid her the hand she had taken off Maurine's mouth down into her jacket pockets. "Eventually. I like to play with my food before I eat it."
Maurine's eyes widened and her eyes darted between Francis's hand and the door. "You're sick. Don't you know what he's gone thorough?"
"I know, I just don't care. Oh! Don't even bother trying to get away now," said Francis in a bored tone. Her free hand had found a concealed pocket in the interior of Maurine's jacket and was now retrieving a small black handgun and a silencer.
"That's all they gave you?" Francis sounded disgusted. "How stupid are they, really, 'Maurine'? Next time don't pause before before you say your name. Honestly, you American spies keep getting worse and worse. It's a scientific marvel. Like reverse evolution."
"You're can't win this war, Francis," spat the spy. "You don't even know the half of what you're doing."
"It's not a war, you sodding moron. It's just a hit, like the fifty or a hundred others I've managed to successfully pull off. Politics are other people's problem. I'm just the weapon. Now, would you rather choke to death or bleed out? I was going to do it quick, but you've managed to irritate me."
"It's not really like anything I say is going to matter, is it?"
"No, not really." Francis attached the silencer and took the safety off of Maurine's gun. "I think I'm going to shoot you, because it's funny if I do it with your own gun. Any last words?"
"Fuck you."
"Go to hell," laughed Francis and pulled the trigger three times in quick succession.
Wonka, oblivious to what had just taken place behind him, sunk deeper into reverie.
They are standing in a darkroom, developing photographs for some friends, shoulders brushing occasionally as Wonka lifts pictures out of their chemical baths. Wonka has only met Julius just last Friday night but he feels so strange around him, so nervous.
Julius's profile glows with the dim red light. His nose is perfectly straight; his jaw sharp as is his brow. When he smiles, as he does now, his eyes crinkle upwards.
After all the pictures are developed Wonka turns as if to leave but suddenly he can hear Julius asking, 'Will, do you want to go to the cinema with me sometime?' all in a rush and his rabbit heart goes thumpthumpthumpthump...
They are very close (too close? probably) and Wonka can feel the slight change in temperature where Julius's hand hovers beside his cheek.
He should have known then that the lines between people exist for a reason.
A/N: Wow this chapter took literal years to write?! And it still seems stiff :0 Things are about to get real interesting, so be sure to review (please)!