That Candyman is Mine!

Title: That Candyman is Mine!

Author: Batwingedgirl

Summary: Veruca Salt has been waiting years to get back to the factory for Wonka- will she get what she wants?

Rating: NC-17

Pairing(s): Veruca Salt / Willy Wonka

Feedback: desired! (Of course!)

Characters: These characters are from the book/movie Charlie and the Chocolate Factory.

Betas: All the wonderbar people who have reviewed with encouragement and admiration so far! Thanks

Author’s notes: Inspiration for this story cropped up when i was pining for someone to pair up Wonka with. \"Veruca will do\", i thought. This story will be continuously updated with new chapters, but ever so slowly for i have college to do, as well. This is my first multi-chapter fic, so get on my ass to make sure i don't slack off. xD

Disclaimer: These characters/ideals/etc are owned by Roald Dahl (And i suppose a little by Tim Burton, John August and Johnny Depp, as well.). i am not making any money off this, because, if i were, it would have a new chapter up by now! :P

So, do enjoy, everyone!

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“That horrible, utterly pompous Willy Wonka!” Veruca growled as she threw the morning paper at the wall, it’s monotone pages twirling in the air until they came to rest in a disheveled pile on the checkered floor. This violent demonstration was futile; the paper landed just so the front page was still staring back at her from the other side of the room. Why was young Veruca so upset? On the front page was a blurry, candid shot of Wonka and Charlie side-by-side just inside one of the doors of the factory. Charlie had gotten a lot taller in the past 5 years, but he was still as thin as ever. He now wore his brown hair in a style complimentary of male fashion today; though his mangled sweaters had been replaced with a style much inspired by that of Wonka himself. Speaking of Wonka, he had quite the same look about him as he had the day Veruca met him; despite that he seemed to have gotten a little hunched over the years, using his walking stick for more than aesthetic purposes. However, you could still faintly make out the magical twinkle in his violet eyes, despite the poor quality of the image.

Despite herself, Veruca secretly longed to see that twinkle again. Vengeance was the costume she dressed her desire in. Vengeance for the day she was made a fool of. Wonka was the only man who she ever longed for all through what she already had of her teenage years. After that day at the factory, she had become hopelessly attached to him, as though he had been weaving her in a hex as she fell through the blue and white spiraled chute. Willy Wonka was the only person who had ever denied her anything.

And she was going to repay him for that. Yes, she was.

Needless to say, Veruca was a little nuts, but you can blame that mostly on her father. He really let her have it when they left the factory, even though that jaunt didn’t last very long. A gloomy girl is never good to show off to the people at the country clubs. But that was all in the past, and this scheme Veruca was working up required complete devotion to her façade.

She took a seat on one of the crimson, velvet-cushioned chairs at the far edge of her fairly long dining room table where a piece of lightly buttered toast had been laid out for her. As her manicured fingers wrapped around the toast, her sharp eyes reread the front page of the paper from halfway across the room. In huge, unmistakable bolded letters above the photo was written “Willy Wonka and Charlie Bucket to soon release new exciting candy!”

Veruca rolled her eyes and scoffed, taking a bite out of her toast. ‘Always Wonka and Charlie, Wonka and Charlie.’

“What’s wrong, Mam?” The cook said in a slightly disinterested tone, not looking up from the eggs she was cooking.

“That idiot Wonka and that piss-poor kid are on the front page of the news paper again!” Veruca took another bite of toast and began to talk with her mouth full. “It just isn’t fair! I’m the one who was supposed to have won! Now that Charles-boy gets that whole factory to himself!”

The maid raised a finely drawn eyebrow at this, “Willy Wonka still lives there as well doesn’t he?” She asked as she brought over a fried egg to Veruca. “And doesn’t what boy go by Charlie, not Charles?” She asked, wiping her hands on her apron and returning to the stove.

“Whatever.” Veruca sniped, putting her toast down and starting on the egg. ‘That Charlie boy is the only obstacle. Once I eliminate him, Wonka will have no escape. He will be all mine.’ Veruca mused with a grin as she twirled her silver fork in her fingers. ‘The only problem is, how. How to get Charlie out of the chocolate factory?’

Veruca stood up suddenly, struck with brilliance, her chair groaning across the tile floor. Without another word, she ran up the elegant staircase to her bedroom, her curls of brown hair bobbing after her. There she slammed the door and began conniving, leaving her half uneaten breakfast to cool on the dining room table.