Title: SWEET INSPIRATION 7 of ? (I’m not sure how many chapters I’ll need)

By: IDOL HANDS

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: Slash, Charlie is 15 years old, Multiple OC plus former ticket winners, and wacky fun!

Disclaimer: The following (ice cream flavors) characters are not mine, but the estate of Roald Dahl (Brussel spout), Tim Burton (double pistachio), Johnny Depp (triple chocolate delight), and Freddie Highmore (French vanilla), Jordan Fry (Rocky road), and AnnaSophia Robb (Bubblegum).

Special Thanks: to Live Journal user “Loony Lucifer”. They know why. Plus, a tip of the hat to Live Journal user “Lefemme”.

Summary: Who may have caught the two in a compromising position? What will one crafty confectioner and his tasty little heir make of this recent experience? Exactly how much has Willy ‘rubbed off’ on Charlie and how will all these other players come into play? Ms. Beauregard has plans of her own, though she may have unwittingly discovered someone else’s “secret recipe”. Give my little readable confection a try won’t you? Go ahead, give it a lick. Try a chapter, please do. They’re so delectable and so goshdarn good-lookin’!

TASTE the TENSION!

Willy was still staring down at his heir motionless, confused but concerned, “Whatsamatter, Charlie? Are ya feeling ill? Can I make it better?”

“Huh?” Charlie’s eyes flicked across the familiar face so close to his own, so close. Their bodies were still entangled. He sighed. Could Willy make it better? What was happening to him? How was it that fate always seemed to be pushing the two of them closer and closer together? It was easy to feel all the man’s warmth, his lean muscles, and if he wasn’t mistaken…

Reminding himself of the dire circumstances, the teenager’s eyes darted back toward the mysterious shadow.

In that moment, metal hoops scraped against the silver bar, as the ominous figure pushed the plastic medical curtains aside and haltingly walked toward them. Stepping into the pale glowing light only made the Gothically dressed person visible, not less spooky. The long black layers included an ankle-length skirt, a torn mesh top with a high-collared Matrix-styled coat on top. Unkempt wavy hair fell into the person’s face, bangs shining deep green.

“..uggh..whhhuz’s goin’ on?”, a woozy voice with an east coast accent spoke; definitely not Thomas, Ferdinand, Silas, Gretchen, or anyone else on the list of people who hated either of them. Instead it was one of the students who ate the candy that morning come back to life…or at least as ‘back to life’ as Ellsworth ever got.

Charlie let out a huge breath of relief, if anyone understood strange situations it was THIS classmate. The golden ticket winner still had to think quickly though, like his mentor usually did. Some explanation would have to be given. The boy’s voice actually cracked as he spitted out, “We..uhm, that is, I nearly fell andthankgoodness Mr. Wonka was here to catch me! Careful, thefloor’svery slippery!”

The chocolatier’s eyes sparkled! He was taken extremely off guard, but not unpleasantly so. In encouragement of the deed just committed, Wonka’s hands gripped his pupil’s shoulders tightly as he did an excited wiggle.

A short gasp preceded the boy removing his hand from the candyman’s firm backside. He’d completely lost track of his appendages! British thick from nerves, Charlie whispered, “Don’t look at me like that. It’s not a complete lie.”

The man grinned proudly looking somewhat goofy with giddiness.

“Issnot!” His heir insisted.

Wonka kept a more secretive smile on his face as he peeled himself off the boy’s body, leaving his heir extremely grateful that any further ‘wetness’ would go completely unnoticed among all the already present stains. That thought was followed by one of guilt for having committed the act in the first place. How could he have gotten so carried away with his own, dare he think, desires? Had he truly manipulated the situation? Holy Buckets, he realized, I really AM getting more like Willy everyday!

Charlie yanked up the Indian beaded jacket, clasping it to cover the suspicious bruising on his shoulder that he hoped his friend’s form had previously been blocking.

Before completely leaving his heir’s personal space, the chocolatier whispered directly into the boy’s ear, “I made real progress that time. We should try sumthin’ like that again…soon.”

A tingle ran through his entire system from the feeling of that breath and what it said. Who him, excited? That guilt was rather short lived! The youth merely responded with a positive, though purposely vague sounding, “Mnn.”

Charlie bit his lip again to quell his building reaction just at the thought of doing something like this again. Could Willy tell? Did he know? At least he could thank his lucky stars that his peer seemed clueless.

The other teen kept rubbing his eyes and shaking his longhaired head. “Damn, I feel so fuzzy-headed.”

“Not too long ago, ya were fuzzy-headed!” Stated Wonka with amusement. “And I’ll thank you not to use any foul language in front of my heir.”

“Wha? Heir? Who da hell has an heir?” Sunken hazel eyes squinted at Wonka in a befuddled manner. He flicked a hand in the chocolatier’s direction, exposing nail polish that matched the green of his tangled locks, “And who da hell are you?”

Willy pursed his lips tightly in scrutiny of this new person. This school certainly was filled with a lotta peculiar people!

Charlie laughed weakly at the taller boy’s second foul offenses, “Ellsworth, I’m heir to Wonka Industries remember? And THIS is Willy Wonka, he showed up in the nick of time and put everyone to sleep in order to keep you from fighting each other after the candy went amuck. It was the catnip in your necklace pouch that did it.”

“…Aw yeah, right, right. My mojo did that?” He fiddled with the little velvet pouch around his neck while continuing to stare at them. Willy had taken a proud arm-stretched pose, assuming the new boy would be equally impressed as all the others had been to meet such a famous figure as he. Instead, the teen added, “Wooaah. You guys are really fuc-- uh, I mean, a mess.”

The two looked down at themselves. The germ conscious chocolatier was deeply disturbed, the daydream of finding ‘the perfect flavor’ had faded and he’d walked right into another one of his worst nightmares! “Ugh! Whizzing whangdoodles and sniveling snozwangers! I’m doubly filthy as I was before! Charlie, I’ve got to get out of these clothes immediately! M-maybe I should go back to the factory.”

“Why?” Asked Ellsworth.

“Because I will not wear any banal, sweaty gym outfit, no matter how desperate I am for clothes. And THIS is the only outfit that I’ve got at the moment.” Willy stated completely exasperated.

The Goth boy shrugged his shoulders. “I gotta extra change of clothes in my locker. They’d probably fitcha’ with a few alterations.”

Wonka’s face brightened, “Do ya mean it!”

“Yeah, No prob. You guys stay here and I’ll get ‘em.” The taller teen caught his own reflection in the mirror behind them, then examined the candymaker’s face, “I’ll bring my make-up too. I’m not the only one who smudged their eyeliner.”

Wonka caught his breath and spun to study his face, “Oh dear.”

Charlie said shyly, “I don’t know why you wear it. You’re perfectly good-looking without it.”

Not flattered by what the boy meant as a compliment, Willy placed one hand on his hip and one on the countertop, answering in his typically instructive fashion, “Tsk. BE-cause it gives me a more manicured appearance, I mean ya never know when some blueberry girl or someone is gonna suddenly pop up and want tah do a documentary about yer daily life! I’ve got to look my best at ALL times! Also…I think it helps to liven up my face.”

He winced, “I’ve gotten a trifle pale over the years.”

As Ellsworth’s left, he stated in a tone that sounded less-than-joking, “I’d kill for your complexion. PALE is beautiful.”

Willy stood silent for a second after the teen left, looking away from the mirror and toward his heir said, “THAT is one strange, spooky individual.”

Charlie looked back at his idol amused, resisting saying anything about people in glass houses or throwing stones.

However, the man then added a perky, “I like that in a person!”

The boy could hardly believe it when a teensy twinge registered in his intestinal area. Great, did he have to be jealous of a bloke now too? He couldn’t compete with the androgynous, mulatto boy anymore than he could the super-model prom queen. Competing? Now he sounded like Violet Beauregard. An audible gurgle noise came from his belly.

Wonka had gotten close to him again, lashes flicking up and down. “Are you quite sure that you’re all right? You’ve been acting rather queer today.”

A flush appeared on the young Bucket’s face. Willy and his choice of words sometimes! “I-I have a lot on my mind is all.”

Darting his blue eyes downward, away from the purple ones that wouldn’t cease their attempts at prying under the surface of his psyche, the boy noticed how his mentor’s damp white clothing was clinging tightly to his streamlined body. Charlie twitched, suddenly shouting, “The Great Glass Elevator!”

That made the chocolatier blink in uncertainty.

“That is, er, I should get my school clothes out of the Great Glass Elevator. Yes, that’s it.” Charlie finished his random thought with a chuckle, stepping backwards away from the breathing temptation standing in front of him. He grabbed Willy’s cane and pressed the hidden button that would make the Elevator’s new burglar system switch off. To Willy’s pleading puppy-dog look of abandonment, he assured, “It’s alright, I’ll be right back! I promise!”

The man’s face peered through the curtain watching until the very last sliver of Charlie was gone. He was all alone, that sensation stung him a lot worse these days then it used to in years past. He used to crave solitude. Sima suddenly murmured on her bed, turning over onto her curvy hip while releasing a quiet snore. Well, nearly all alone the chocolatier reminded himself. The last student was still deeply asleep however. Wonka looked back toward the sink and down at his body. There was a fresh, chunky sponge and a brand new bar of medicinal soap with his name on it. Better to get that over with before that Butterworth boy got back, he thought.

Meanwhile in the hallway, the girl from Charlie’s history class, Lulu (the one with fluffy chrome-blonde hair) happily hummed a Japanese rock song as she removed books from her locker. Slamming it closed, she was caught off guard by the looming shadow of Ellsworth looking at her with intense, anxious eyes where the dinged, beige metal door used to be.

“Eek! For Pierrot’s sake, quit creepin’ up on me!” She shouted reflexively, picking up her goggle-shaped sunglasses from off the floor and replacing them onto the top of her head - yet another willing victim of Willy Wonka’s fashion sense.

“I swear I don’ do it on purpose, I just naturally scare people.” With a sly, sharp-toothed grin he added, “Listen, I gots tah tell you wut I just saw in da nurse’s office. I think one of yer dreams mighta’ come true.”

A murmured moment later, the hall was filled with a pleased shriek followed by an extremely loud, “NO FRUKKIN’ WAY!”

Heads turned but no one had a clue what the commotion was about. It didn’t matter though since these two students were well known for their less-than-ordinary behavior. Both of them made an “Oops” sort of face and got quieter again.

“So do you think they’re…?” Lulu began with a restrained, ecstatic look on her face.

“I dunno. You tell me, but dat all seemed mighty suspicious.” Ellsworth shrugged, enjoying this pleasant form of informational torment. He hoisted up his bulging backpack and faked tugging on suspenders in a gesture of class, “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve gotta go dress the guy. Wonka’s about to be whipped up in one of MY designs.”

“I think I’m going to explode.” The girl stared dazed through her overgrown bangs, clutching notebooks that were covered in sketches and the occasional swirled capital W.

“Why don’t ya? You’d be doing the world a favor.” Came the nasal voice of Prudence Prodnose.

Ellsworth spun around to give the intruder the sort of look that would startle wild dogs. This boy was as known for his glares as Willy Wonka himself and the angular, made-up features did actually make Thomas’s “haunt a house” comment worthy.

The poodle-haired girl cringed, but Thomas Sheldon Jr. was standing tall and muscular right behind her. He’d been eavesdropping as well, “WHAT seemed suspicious about the two of them?”

“None of your business!” Retorted Lulu. She promptly picked up her backpack and headed down the hall; black & white striped tights in combat boots clunking loudly away. Ellsworth sneered at the two of them; again the menace was exaggerated by his mime-like make-up. He looked up and down at Sheldon who was donning the fluorescent green & purple colors of the school’s gym uniform; his well-developed biceps exposed in the sporty muscle shirt. Before following after Lulu, the teen quipped flatly, “Nice duds.”

Thomas squinted at their backs. He looked down at Prudence Prodnose. “They know something. That punk girl was psyched about something.”

“Ugh. You don’t even want to know what Lulu’s into.” The girl made an exaggerated face that actually managed to make her look even more ugly, a trait that went to her very core; she was the daughter of one of Mr. Wonka’s competitors and a renowned busybody. It was nearly impossible to keep any information away from her. Small wonder why the popular kids kept her close even though she lacked style, looks, humor, or manners. The pig-nosed girl whispered the rest of her malicious gossip into Thomas’s ear as his eyes got wider and wider.

Satisfied, Prudence commented, “I guess that’s why she hangs around that freak show but they never date, huh? Ya figure he’s that way?”

The jock stammered slightly as he quipped, “W-well, uh, Eeksworth would have to figure out that he’s a guy first. Dude probably thinks he’s a lesbian.”

Prudence laughed entirely too much at the joke, snorting while she did so. Unfortunately, she was full of unsavory habits of that kind. Picking her nose in public was another. “That gangly oaf is wasting his time anyway, Charlie Bucket’s way prettier without a dress or any dumb face paint.”

Thomas suddenly looked nervous and distant.

fluttering her non-existent lashes, the bow-legged girl leaned close to him, “Who needs guys to be pretty anyway, that’s for us ladies to do. Saaay, you’re single now right?”

The school treasurer and captain of the football team swallowed loudly. All those positions & responsibility were no match for this kind of unwanted pressure! “Uhh...”

At that very moment, Tanya and Jessica swished by in the hallway. As they passed, a high-pitched “Hmpf!”, was released by the blonde, followed by a second “Hmpf!”, from the red-haired girl. Violet Beauregarde and Mike TeeVee were quickly following behind. Both the students were fountains of knowledge on teen culture, the results of eating Wonka’s ‘Neko Candy’, and were well-connected to the entire school; an institution that was starting to seem involved in slightly more than education in reading, writing, and arithmetic.

“Tanya! Tan-tan, wait!” Thomas ran after her, using her pet name, gratefully leaving the petulant Prudence Prodnose in his wake.

Halfway down the hall, the most popular girl in school acknowledged his existence, she crossed her arms over her ‘Good Enough To Eat’ tank top with an annoyed, “Yes?”

“Could we talk? Please?” The nicest look that Thomas Sheldon Jr. was capable of giving was on his face. He nervously rubbed the back of his ash blonde hair, all that was visible from the short buzz cut.

As Violet and Mike focused on the intense teen-drama taking place before them, Jessica had noticed a certain young man leave through the school’s entrance. She decided to make a quick stop in the currently sparkling clean cafeteria before going out to follow him.

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Outside, Charlie Bucket had stood nearly immobile with the top of his head pressed against the surface of the Great Glass Elevator. He was only nearly immobile because every once in a while he would lift his head up and knock it back into the grey-tinted doors. This action was the result of him trying to sort out his conflicting emotions while berating himself for behaving foolishly while longing to behave foolishly some more. What were all these strange feelings that he was having about his best friend and idol? Should he encourage them or drive them away?

Ka-Thunk.

Ka-Thunk.

Siiigggh…

Groan

Whimper

Ka-Thunk!

“Charlie? Are you OK?” It seemed to be a popular question toward the boy lately.

He jerked up completely startled. “ARGH!”

“Jessica! Yes! Okay? Right-O, That’s me, never been more OK in me whole life.” An odd, broad grin more befitting his adult friend appeared on the youth’s sweet face.

“Really? I thought you might at least be hungry.” She pulled out a selection of food in bar-form.

Before he could acknowledge that eating actually seemed like a good idea, a small ball of fur had darted down his arm, anxiously staring at the assortment of modern, convenient snack foods.

Squeak, chitty, chitter, BRRIRT!

“Foamy! Where have you been? I thought you were supposed to be standing guard?” Charlie gave the errant squirrel a gentle pat on his head. The small animal closed his eyes, gratefully leaning into the delicate follow-up scratches.

Jessica was completely charmed, “How utterly adorable! I’ve never seen a wild squirrel do that before!”

“Oh, no, he’s not wild...though I wouldn’t call him tame either. Um, he’s Mr. Wonka’s little helper and he says that he’d like a granola bar please.” Over the years, the young man had become very fluent in squirrel. Too bad he didn’t get quizzes in that!

Jessica happily unwrapped a honey-walnut oat bar. A second later Foamy had removed a chunk and run back up Charlie’s form, hopped to the top of the elevator, then up the tree to a second awaiting squirrel. The granola bar was being shared with a new friend. He and Jessica both noticed that this second squirrel was slightly smaller and had a lighter shade of fur.

The red-haired girl giggled, “Aw, isn’t that sweet? He’s found a juicy girl squirrel.”

Charlie paused from chewing on a bar that was filled with strawberry jelly and cream cheese, “Juicy?”

“Sorry, that’s like Irish for ‘pretty’. Tanya started to use it recently, thought you knew.” Jessica’s own slang had become blended with the influential Californian girl’s and vice versa. Young people were flexible with their language in such ways, though not usually as flexible as Willy was with his.

He lowered his eyes, not thrilled at the mention of the young woman, “I’m afraid I’m not always hip to the jive.”

“Pardon?” Her bright green eyes were back to normal now, but two dangling earrings shaped like cats still confirmed her feline obsession.

“Heh. Heh. Nevermind.” The boy had handed another nugget to Foamy for him to share. His new female squirrel friend had come down as far as the elevator but despite encouraging noises was not coming down any further. She was too nervous about the strangers. Jessica stood slightly closer to Charlie as the two of them shared the collection of snacks. Twirling a ringlet, she said, “You know, I think you could use a juicy someone in your life too.”

“W-wot?” The boy turned his head, her freckled face right next to his own.

She gave a deep, dimpled smile at him. They’d make lovely children together if it ever happened and her next comment seemed to reflect such a thought, “Don’t you at least want to know what it’s like to be kissed?”

In the precise moment that it looked as if Charlie was going to gain such an experience, Principal Granger showed up behind them and exclaimed, “Good Golly Miss Molly! So that’s the Great Glass Elevator that I’ve heard so much about! Isn’t that an absolute marvel to behold!”

“Why yes, yes it is, and I need to go inside it for a mo’! Jessica, please forgive my appearance, I must look absolutely terrible!” He pushed the button for it to ding and open with great speed. The boy dashed in, adding brightly, “I’ll only be a moment changing.”

All smiles, the principal looked at her, “ day isn’t it? It’s like love is in the air!”

“Mr. Wonka said nearly the same thing.” Jessica pouted as she passed another morsel to Foamy then munched a bite herself. Actually, as she replayed the moment in her exacting head, the girl realized that Willy Wonka had stated ‘heir’ instead of air at first. That was a funny slip of the tongue for such a talented taster!

“Er, Ms. Jessica Frisby, could I possibly get you to run a little errand for me?” The middle-aged Principal attempted a cute smile toward the teenager.

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It would have been impossible for one’s mind not to wander while sponge bathing in the isolated surroundings after such a gripping experience, plus Willy Wonka was a professional at letting his mind wander. Only the steaming hot trickle from the running faucet upset the silence of the shoebox clinic. He pondered how the boy had no idea how sensitive his palette was, how no one would be capable of understanding how absolutely intoxicating that experience was for him. Rolling his tongue around in his mouth, trying to recapture that last trace of flavor, he thought back to a conversation they shared shortly after the first few experiences…

It was another evening in the chocolatier’s bedroom, they were having a very intense, secret powwow: a conversation in a fort (that Willy insisted be built out of his various mattresses and sheets) with only a flashlight to talk by. The chocolatier knew he looked especially intimidating lit from underneath with his pronounced bone-structure, but his fluty voice kept jittering from nerves ruining the effect. “I think…because you’re my heir, and you’re special, that a little touching is OK, but only between you and me, and only because you’re my heir.”

Willy had a tendency to repeat himself when he was anxious.

The boy had made an excited, open-mouthed crooked grin; the kind that meant he was especially pleased as he sat cross-legged and focused on Wonka’s every word. It had caused the creator to feel very special at the time, a kind of special that only Charlie Bucket was capable of creating when those stars appeared in his eyes. Did the child realize that he had stars in his eyes? How had he managed to remove them from the sky?

“Hm, he probably just smiled at them.” The man mused aloud while running the dampened sponge over his bare left arm.

After that private conversation, both had agreed to keep the “tasting” occurrences secret. Since the golden ticket winner had been expected to keep lots and lots of secrets when it came to recipes, why should this one be any different? Something as fantastic as a ‘perfect flavor’ that everybody liked could not only be a tremendous financial success but it might even be a way to achieve world peace! He’d stated at the time, “Why it could lead to world peace! Imagine all the people…I wonder if you can, no need for greed or hunger, a brotherhood of man.”

Having become familiar with the fact that Wonka liked to quote song lyrics whenever he felt that a great speech was being given, his heir had continued grinning while cleverly responding with, “They may say that you’re a dreamer, but you’re not the only one.”

The more the famous confectioner had been trying to develop the flavor, the more he started to stare at Charlie. It was as if there was a new kind of magic to him, more than what he had seen since he’d come to live in the factory. He kept quickly looking away if the boy caught him. Since these episodes did tend to leave bruises, he felt somewhat bad for continuing, but it WAS where he was getting the inspiration from and Charlie said he was willing to make the sacrifices. Besides, it wasn’t that different from marking one’s territory was it?

An impish smile appeared at that thought, Willy Wonka did like to brand things that he considered HIS. The sound of the soft voice echoed in his memory, “and…I like being close to you.”

The man’s face grew distant with a pleased look upon it. Suddenly the vivid sensations of the boy’s young form pressed perfectly into his own drifted curiously into his mind; how tightly the boy had been gripping him, almost in a needy way…

Wonka paused, catching his own sinister thoughts and chastising himself. No, it was HE who needed Charlie, not vice versa. He leaned his palms against the counter; interestingly they were still covered up, while the tense ivory muscles of his back were not. If anyone were observing, they would have seen two raised sets of claw marks, old scars from his days of exploring unheard of lands for exotic new candy flavors. His heir was not the only one to have made sacrifices in the name of innovation!

The man pondered further, contradicting his first argument: Was it really so wrong to enjoy feeling close to someone for the first time in one’s life? Why did anything else have to matter if BOTH parties were enjoying the experience? Why did he even have to worry about it! He’d never bothered with such tiresome concerns before, he’d always done whatever he felt like doing. Why couldn’t the two simply lock themselves away from everyone and spend every waking moment in each other’s company?

The sound of an indulgent sigh filled the room followed by a pained growl.

Look here Willy, he reminded himself, we vowed long ago not to think that way anymore. It’s pointless. He’s not YOURS. You are only here to serve as a guide, a “teacher”, one of many… He bowed his head thinking what a low rank he truly had in a person’s life who had become so all-important to him; despite his heir having a very busy & populated life, there was no one else that the candyman preferred to spend time his with.

Obsession had served him so very well in the past.

Actually, it was surprising and bewildering how things had developed. His initial desire for a child was selfish; purely out of a need to continue HIS work even past death; a way to cheat fate. That was all really. Never expected to actually like the squirt, let alone grow to feel so deeply about one. At the time he barely cared what the child was like, figuring he could mold them so long as he or she wasn’t a brat. So, what did he get?

Four COMPLETE BRATS and…one angel in a worn-out striped sweater; one perfect, maddingly sweet, quietly brave, deliciously delightful and clever little boy. Charlie Bucket really did deserve to be a piece of candy.

Attempting to cheer himself up, the man thought, AND if anyone can accomplish such a feat it’s the world’s best candymaker! And who’s that? ME! Willy Wonka! The amazing chocolatier! I’m everything I ever dreamed of being and more! That should be enough. Yeah. I’ve got to keep my professional distance, stick out these confuzzling couple of situations by continuing to sleuth out the solutions.

He’d taken a gallant stance to accompany these dogmatic thoughts. Glancing at himself in the mirror then, puffing up and flexing slightly, standing to the side, then turning around, looking down toward the part of his body that Charlie had felt a need to grab. With a giggle he flexed that too. Not too bad for someone who just turned…well, that wasn’t important, what WAS important was that he’d have to get even with the boy for that provocative move (as he had for the one during their tickle fight). Hm, these games of theirs were taking funny, but interesting, turns lately. Next, he flipped the ends of his bob outward, then inward, then outward again. He made a dissatisfied face into the reflection. It simply wasn’t the same without a hat.

“I godda hot iron if you wanna try crimping it. I usually use it tah straighten mine.” The Goth boy had managed to soundlessly re-enter the room while Wonka had been lost in his thoughts.

Grabbing a small towel at lightening speed, he clasped it over his mid-body in a manner similar to a woman. After all, he was down to nothing but his silk underwear! Thrusting a finger forward with a quick spiral motion, he hissed “Don’t you know how to knock! Turn around this instant!”

Ellsworth flinched, jumping back behind the curtain. He really did have a bad habit of sneaking up on people. However, if anyone ever had a sneak-up coming to him, it was Mr. Wonka. It would be impossible to say how many times he’d committed the exact same sin and usually on purpose.

The chocolatier’s head peered out, clasping the rest of the curtain so his face appeared to be floating there. The teen in the long clothing, pointed toward the still occupied cot as a reminder for Willy to stay calm. Miraculously, Sima was still gently snoring.

Looking harshly at the teenager, he grumpily whispered, “Where are the clothes?”

The boy sheepishly held up his bulging backpack.

“I’ll put them on myself!” Wonka grabbed the heavy parcel in a flash, disappearing behind the curtains again. “Oof! Whaddaya keepin’ in here kid? Bowling balls and lead bricks?”

There was the loud sound of a zipper followed by the dumping of the entire bag’s contents.

The boy only waited in complete silence after that, sitting motionless on an empty cot with his legs crossed. Fast as the man had been to cover himself, the teen couldn’t help recalling that the candymaker’s lips weren’t the only things that were such a bright reddish shade of pink on his body. Hard to imagine him using lipstick on his chest…

Soon paper could be heard to quickly shuffle about as sketchpads were discovered, “Hm, bit of an artist are ya? Charlie likes to doodle too sometimes. Ooh! I like this one of my factory, very domineering. This one of Ms. Kane is terrible though, you completely missed her beak and talons. Flip! Ahn, This one is so-so. Flip! Good. Flip! Ugh, not so good, you should use this one to light a fireplace.” Flip!

A nasty look was aimed at the curtain but the young man didn’t bother to respond. Willy Wonka was an interesting guy, no doubt, but he was also rude, opinionated, and a snoop! How did Charlie Bucket put up with this all the time?

Flip! Flip! Flip! Flip!

There was an unexpected pause. Followed by an announced, “Um, I need help getting these clothes on. They don’t make any sense.”

Ellsworth only peeked in one eye, afraid to enter.

“Tsk. Whattaya doing? Waiting for a formal invitation? Get in here already.” Wonka spoke to the teen as if he hadn’t yelled and chastised him only a moment ago.

The boy hesitantly entered, back slightly slumped, noticing that his sketchbook was open to a page that he’d done a detailed sketch of Charlie on; he’d been inspired one day to do one of his symbolic/surreal drawings. Looking toward the man, he smiled at the incorrect way the complex-styled clothing was placed on – nothing was in the right place, his head was poking uncomfortably through an armhole. Suppressing a chuckle that Ellsworth was certain would upset him; artful hands went toward the candymaker’s form in order to fix the catastrophe.

“NO! You have to wear gloves! Here a pair of the nurse’s will do.” Like it or not, the teenager found his appendages being forcibly covered with sterilized plastic gloves in order to merely adjust cloth. “I guess the little lady is busy inspecting those trolls who creamed the cafeteria today. Hmf, at least those lackwits added some color to the place. This school is dull enough to bore a Zen monk.”

The boy held his arms upward with uncertain inspection.

“Quit idolizing yer hands and make me presentable. My Oompa-loompas would be finished by now.” Wonka stood completely still as if he were accustomed to someone assisting him with his wardrobe. Which would leave anyone puzzled as to why he’d panicked earlier.

The Goth boy reminded himself how many times he’d heard or read the word “eccentric” in conjunction with the world famous chocolatier’s name; at least that part of the rumors were true. He got to work adjusting the myriad of zippers, straps, and laces. Maybe Oompa-loompas were another sort of machine?

He looked down at the stranger who was adjusting the hem of his pants. This was not a person whom his heir had said much about. It was also not someone he’d intentionally developed his candy for; as usual fate had created a twist in his crafty plans. After a moment, Willy couldn’t stand the amount of silence in what he considered to be a tremendously nerve-wracking situation. “Er, yer not exactly a big talker are ya, Wordsworth?”

“Ellsworth.” The teenager corrected without an ounce of temper. He was used to any number of accidental and not-so-accidental mispronunciations of his unusual name. “Wut for? People don’ really lissin’ to anything they don’t understand anyway. I’d rather express myself through art.”

The voice was deeper than what the chocolatier had expected, especially based on the student’s androgynous appearance. “Mmn…that’s an interesting observation. You drew art of Charlie, so what do you think of him?”

“Uhh..” The hazel eyes glanced up at the man then back at the hem he was stitching. “I like him.”

Willy gave a knowing sort of look. “I see. And exactly why do you like him?”

The teen gave a very serious look at the man, his face was made up in a white color as fair as Willy himself, but the rest of the exposed skin revealed a shade that reminded the candymaker of coffee with the exact amount of cream he preferred in it. “Because he duzn’t judge people. He duzn’t make people feel stupid or weird. Charlie accepts everyone’s differences, he likes people as they are and…dere’s something sorta’ magical about that.”

He ended the statement with a casual expression of thought on his face, the corner of his mouth twisting downward. “I guess that’s why.”

Wonka’s whole face softened considerably. He responded in a more human tone than he’d used since they’d met, “You should talk more often kid…”

The compliment was quickly erased by adding in his usual cartoon-sounding voice, “Aaand maybe consider changing yer name to something more catchy. Yeah. Especially if you really want to be a fashion designer one day.”

The boy answered, “Can’t, itsa’ family name, supposta’ be an honor. I thought you’d like it since it’s actually British in origin.”

A look of utter annoyance glazed over Wonka’s features. “Figures. British names are always really peculiar soundin’ and they’re always supposed tah be an honor. That’s one of the reasons I kept my nickname and started tah use a sporty American accent! Far more marketable!”

Ellsworth looked at him with confusion. He pondered how long it must have taken Willy Wonka to create the strange qualities of his voice that he considered, “marketable”. If anyone had asked him, he’d have thought the original English accent would have suited such an eccentric man better. Did the guy ever slip up and still use it? There was an amusing idea.

Wonka frowned at him, “Whaddaya smilin’ about?”

Instead of admitting the truth, he decided to change the subject entirely, “Um, ya make-up. Itsa’ nice job.”

The ever-changing features became a broad smile followed by a pleased high pitch noise, “I do it myself.”

The boy stood up, becoming taller than the candymaker, studying the man’s face closely and envying the natural porcelain qualities of it, “Very retro. Reminds me of da silver screen days of Hollywood, especially with dem eyes that Elizabeth Taylor would envy, but I’m thinkin’…it’s time for a little update.”

The theatrically made-up teen removed a small pouch from one of the large cargo pockets on his utility-styled skirt, an anxious grin on his face. He was in his element now.

Wonka’s eyes flicked anxiously across his new acquaintance, there was a certain amount of similarities between himself and this person that he didn’t entirely despise. However, what was that he had seen shining inside the young man’s mouth?

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Ms. Beauregarde had been left alone to amuse herself in Principal Granger’s office. He had told her that he’d be back with some lunch for them to share. However, he might be a while since the woman insisted on something NOT created by Willy Wonka; after the famous factory tour, Violet’s mother wasn’t going to take any further chances! In her usual scrutiny, she started to examine things in the office, picking up the ceramic vase with the Griffin to assure its quality, puzzling over what looked like a crystal ball on another shelf, admiring the dark oak of his desk, and then sitting in the desk’s chair to determine the softness of the upholstery. A contented, feminine sigh was emitted as she sat in ‘the power position’. Yes, Mrs. Principal Granger had a nice ring to it. ‘Beauregard’ was from her first husband who had been of royal origin. That crown lost its shine when the family pushed you around like a common servant, Ms. Beauregarde would NEVER settle for being ‘second’ all the time and neither would her child. So what if she didn’t produce a first born SON? Why should that have made Violet less capable, less special!

She shook off the negativity and ventured back to this new fantasy, she’d know exactly how to ensure a competitive nature among the student body that would make this school NUMBER ONE! Instead of just one child under her instruction, there would be hundreds! She could see all the plaques, awards, and honorary statues lining the hallways – everywhere there would be the reflection of golden colored brass! And who was afraid of that cranky Ms. Kane who obviously couldn’t wait to take over things? Certainly not she.

Fingers with long, fake blue fingernails had found their way to Mr. Granger’s record keeping files, she fidgeted nervously before deliberately, accidentally, allowing the book to ‘fall’ open. Finance was such a fascinating subject, particularly when they revealed the net worth of a potential mate! She hummed to herself while more bravely pawing through the detailed accounting pages…but something stopped her, there seemed to be inconsistencies lately…

She spoke out loud to only herself, a Southern accent audible, “Uh-uh, something here ain’t quite right. I’m fixin’ to get to the bottom of this. Either my new husband is a thief or someone is puttin’ the shine on him!”

Abandoning any sense of respect for privacy, she started to pull out more of the detailed report books to clarify how these inconsistencies were coming about. Eventually, she had many spread out, two calculators, and multiple writing tools including one tucked behind the ear of her blue streaked hair. She sucked on the eraser end of the Lord of the Rings pencil in her hand (Principal Granger’s of course). Yes, something was definitely wrong here and it wasn’t the fault of the trusting, big-hearted man who ran the education facility.

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A few minutes later, Charlie Bucket had re-entered the room, feeling badly that he’d taken longer than he meant to. It wasn’t so long in normal time, but Willy, especially emotionally distraught Willy, functioned on a far different clock. The boy’s ears were tickled by the sound of his friend’s pleased laughter though; the shadows of the curtain revealing him being face to face with Ellsworth; the taller boy leaning over the chocolatier while he was sitting on a stool.

Whatever the taller boy was saying was in a low, quiet pitch that Charlie couldn’t make out the words to. Jealousy wobbled through him again. Isolated as the artistic teenager usually was, he wasn’t without a kind of unusual appeal, but having seen how Willy behaved with Tanya would add another complication. That is, was he? Wasn’t he? Was he…both? Was that even possible? The young Bucket had never thought about such things and he’d never really had to before either. After all, he’d been the center of Mr. Wonka’s attention regardless of anything for years now. There were days when it even drove him bonkers!

He heard his mentor quietly muse, “Mmm, Charlie’s close to his grandparents too, he’s got FOUR of them you know, all of them past 100! Good, strong genes in that family! I look forward to him livin’ as long as they have! But your military grandfather sounds like a challenge even for his grumpy Grandpa George.”

“Mr. Wonka?” A sad crack slipped into his voice without meaning to.

“Oh! Charlie, don’t come in!” The man announced.

The boy’s entire mood fell. Don’t come in! What were they up to!

Suddenly a person the boy barely recognized peered through the curtain. Ellsworth smiled and for the first time he didn’t look scary! The white face paint and dark colors had been wiped away replaced with complimenting tones on his tan face. The unruly hair had been pulled into a neat, French-braided ponytail. Some of his piercings had been removed as well. “Hey ‘dare Charles. Me an yer main man there took turns givin’ each other new looks. He wants to surprise ya is all.”

“Oh.” The youth blushed slightly at his previous imaginings and a pinch from shock, “Y-you look nice.”

Stepping completely through the curtain, careful to clasp it behind him, the teen answered, “Heh. Really? Cuz, I feel naked. Guess it’s fair tho’ since I nearly saw Wonka naked.”

The boy’s eyes swelled wide at the thought of such a thing occurring. “W-wot?”

“He was down tah his skivvies, actually. What there wuz of them.” Ellsworth leaned on the cot next to Charlie, brushing over his own square jaw, he whispered in a low voice with a chuckle, “You ain’t jealous is you?”

Being confronted with Ellsworth’s multicolored eyes made Charlie feel very uncomfortable. This other boy had managed to psychically hit the niggling nail on the head, but it wasn’t a thought that the chocolatier-in-training was ready to confess to having out loud.

“Hey, wanna see ME in my underwear? Would dat make us even?” The Goth teen went for the zipper connected to the side of his long, black skirt.

“No, please that’s not necessary!” Charlie gasped and threw his hands over his eyes. That action brought on a full blush, wishing Ellsworth would go back to being the strong, SILENT type. Who knew he had such a perverted sense of humor!

“Maybe little C doesn’t want to see, but I wouldn’t mind.” Tanya’s voice was heard to say as she entered the room, tall, silent cameraman in tow. Teasing further with an, “Unless you only like showing off to boys?”

It was time for a turn in the tables of embarrassment as Ellsworth stammered, “Huh? N-no, I’m not--, I mean I’ll show it off to anyone. Uh, wait that didn’t come out right..”

“And exactly how was IT supposed to ‘come’ out?” Naughty emphasis was put on her words as the beautiful, flirtatious girl put the unusually dressed boy on the spot with her conversational prowess. She plopped down on the opposite side of the boy she had quickly humiliated. “I assume The Big W is still back there? Come on shy guy! Show us what you’ve got!”

“Shh, Sima’s still sleeping.” Charlie reminded them, though he was surprised to currently find himself grateful for Tanya’s presence. It had certainly quashed that uncomfortable situation quickly. He waved meekly at Mike who returned the gesture. Where was Violet? Or Jessica? Then again, perhaps fewer women was probably a good thing at this point!

“Oh please, have you ever been to a slumber party with her? She’d like totally sleep through a heavy metal concert.” The girl was still studying the taller Goth boy who’d chosen to get tight-lipped again, an insecure look on his now more natural-looking features. This was the first time either of them had ever spoken to each other about anything. It was funny how school hierarchies could keep people separated even when they saw each other nearly every single day.

“Anyone want Hawaiian pizza? I snagged a couple slices since The Big W never got a chance to try it.” She laid the plate onto the nearby rolling cart.

“Um, we already…ate, but thanks.” Charlie said with as much politeness as he could muster.

“Maybe he’ll have room for a little more.” She said in dimissal, then cheered, “We want Wonka!”

SWwooOOSH!

The curtains swung wide as Willy presented himself. The new garb consisted of fitted black pants with a purple stripe and multiple buckles down either side, a strip connecting one leg to the other. Several mismatched belts added an emphasis to his hips while a long sleeved, high button shirt provided his usual thorough coverage. Where a velvet jacket would normally reside, a leather one stood in place with lace up corset sleeves in addition to buckles & zippers to match the rest of the outfit. His diamond ‘W’ pin was attatched to an outside pocket rather than his throat; lips and eyes were bearing deeper, plum shades that added emphasis to the light tone of his complexion as well as drawing attention to the famous purple eyes. He looked far more like the image of a cutting edge music video star than the creator of candy.

Charlie couldn’t speak. He’d never in his life seen Willy wear such casual clothes. He looked so remarkably different! So…so young!

“You look completely BAD!” Tanya popped up off the cot to get closer to the chocolatier.

“Do I!” His feelings looked terribly hurt.

“No silly, ‘bad’ means ‘good’ these days! And your bangs are sooo cute! I’m gonna cut mine like that!” She made a motion for him to turn around as more than one set of eyes examined the entire package.

Willy scrunched up his nose in playful uncertainty. Purple gloves were back and toyed with the buttoned up collar, “I’m not used tah such short jackets or such um, tough-guy clothes. I feel rather underdressed.”

“I already told ya, you ain’t gettin’ my coat, it’s part of my personality. Yer lucky to get this outfit, I’ve been working on it for months.” Ellsworth hopped off the bed and got behind the man, removing a choker necklace off himself and buttoning the thick black collar onto Wonka in order to add some sense of coverage to his throat. After all, his new thermal styled T-shirt didn’t quite go as high as his normal style. The man’s shoulders did seem slightly less tense for the strip of restraining coverage, even if it only added more ‘edge’ to the style.

“I say, if ya got it, flaunt it, and besides ‘tough guy’, those clothes DO make you look like a teenager.” Added Tanya while biting a fingernail.

“Do I!” Was said again, but this time with enthusiasm and a giggle. He seemed greatly pleased by that description. “What do you think, Charles?”

Everyone turned and looked at the youth who was back in his usual blue jeans, argyle vest, crested jacket, and fedora. The boy smiled a little, it was nice that Willy wanted his opinion, “It’s true, you like a rock star in fact, but…you need a hat.”

“Not with my hair done up like this, it’ll crush the crimping.” Gloved hands went up in refusal, then protection as Charlie offered his own. Standing next to each other, the pair did look like best chums rather than student and mentor. Willy gazed down at the boy with that ever-perplexing twinkle. “Hey, you shrunk!”

“I did not.” The youth laughed, while staring at the chunky platform shoes, “You grew! That is NOT your usual footwear.”

“We switched.” The Goth boy lifted up the hem of the utility-styled skirt in mock female exaggeration to reveal the white cha-cha shoes underneath. “They’re kinda snug, but dey’ll match his white top hat if I can find it in the cafeteria. Wonka said I could have it.”

“Yeah! I got a whole room full of hats back home. Here, Charlie, since you’re wearing the hat today, you might as well carry the cane too.” He presented the famous symbol with zest to his overwhelmed heir, “Alrighty then, I’m ready to just be one of the little kiddies goin’ to school! Let’s all get a move on!”

“You guys truck on, Imma’ stay here in the dark for a couple more minutes.” Ellsworth stated.

“Figures.” Chuckled Tanya, with a long glance over her shoulder.

He looked bashfully away again, “I uh, wants to guard the last girl until da nurse gets back. Hey, ain’t no one gonna miss me in class anyhow.”

“Mn! See, Charlie, there’s a gentleman under there after all. He wouldn’t make such a bad companion if he cleaned up his language a bit, would he?” The chocolatier said with emphasis, focusing intently on the boy.

A very awkward “Heh” came from the Goth boy as Charlie gave him a very confused look. Gentle? Man?

A few beats of silence went by after the entire group shuffled out of the small room. The peace was broken when a certain fluffy, blonde girl poked her head out from under Sima’s cot. She’d been snuck in and was hiding all along. Lulu enthused toward Ellsworth, “That was GREAT! I didn’t see any glowing light though. You must’ve imagined that part.”

After the punk-dressed girl drug herself up from the floor, the Goth boy felt a sharp pinch on the his arm, “How dare you flirt with Charlie, he only belongs with ONE person. You know that.”

“Owch! I wasn’t flirting, I was only kiddin’ around.” He rubbed his arm in earnest.

“Whose the one person that Charlie Bucket belongs with?” Said a sultry voice before she yawned and stretched out arms covered in bangled bracelets.

The two misfit teens looked anxiously at each other across the cot as Sima rubbed the sleep from her eyes. The brunette focused at the clock on the wall, “Zahr-e-ma’r! Look at how much time has gone by, I’m going to be late to English Lit!”

Her eyes managed to catch the plate across the room though, “Is that pizza? I’m absolutely famished.”

Notes (a.k.a. Babble):

Sometimes I honestly don’t know how I manage to put myself into the minds of people so different from myself, but it’s a fun challenge. Sometimes I think I just can’t do it, and then I’ll be pleasently surprised as I keep trying.

Original art of Wonka, all in white, based on the story, drawn by Live Journal user “Mistressxd” can be found by typing in the world wide web address “deviantart” plus dot com backslash deviation 33727390. Sorry, doesn’t allow me to post links, put you could do the math right?

You can also blame Fan Fiction dot net for the annoying scene break text. Apparently, authors are not permitted to use more than one space in their text, which I feel can ABSOLUTELY be confusing when you require a scene break! Hence my somewhat cheesy solution.

Wanna know what a “mojo” is? Look it up, you’ll find it a curious word connected to a theme I’m working with. I learned about them when I went through a “New Age” phase around 12/13 yrs. Old. Why is Ellsworth carrying “catnip” in it? Good question.

‘Pierrot’ is a Japanese rock band. You should look them up too.

Wonka’s line about cosmetics giving him “a more manicured appearance” was taken from Live Journal user’s comment about cosmetics on people in general in her journal. I may borrow another fact from her shortly.

Charlie and Willy quoted lines from John Lenon’s song “Imagine”. MJ is a HUGE Beatles fan and in fact owns the Beatle catalog of music including a select few songs/demos that only his ears have heard since they were recorded.

“Good Golly Miss Molly!” is Little Richard’s line and an expression that I use from time to time. The influence of Little Richard on popular music cannot be denied: from Michael Jackson to Jerry Lee Lewis to David Bowie and countless others. He was THE groundbreaking African-American entertainer in pop music.

“” is from Mary Poppins of course!

Jessica’s last name was inspired by watching The Secret of Nimh recently. Noticing a pattern?

“Stars in his eyes” is reflective of a saying and an illustration that I created based on the movie. You can put this puzzle together if you wish, type in the usual world wide web thing into the address bar followed by the word “community” dot “livejournal” dot whangdoodles backslash 187852 dot html number sign “cutid1”. Remember NO SPACES and take out the quote marks. I hope you can find it! Feel free to comment if ya manage!

I have a ‘thing’ for scars. I’m proud of most of my own and like examining others. I like the image of Wonka with physical scars since he’s got so many emotional ones. Seems a fair trade for what he’s been putting Charlie through.

Ms. Beauregarde strikes me as the old-fashioned sort when it comes to changing her name for the reputation that might surround it. ‘Beauregarde’ is a French-Canadian name that literally means “Beautiful look”.

Why does principal Granger have a vase with a Griffon(dore) and a crystal ball? Good question.

Many characters in this story were ‘inspired’ by real-life people, but are not meant to reflect exactly how they may appear or behave in real life. And actually, I am far more likely to pinch people than “Lulu” probably is. Having a mean pinch is good for when you like someone too much to smack them, but you’re looking for some way to assure them that they “didn’t get away” with something.

“Mrs. Butterworth” is a syrup & pancake name & “William Wordsworth” is a famous author/poet. You could see why the candymaker got confused, can’t ya?

Elizabeth Taylor has been a long-time friend to Michael Jackson who deeply admires her as well. She is the only person I’m aware of who actually HAS violet eyes. I was pleased to find a way to mention her.

Willy Wonka is dressed in an outfit inspired by the one from MJ’s “Bad” video/tour with punk/goth accents.

The factory really does contain a room called, “Hats you don’t wear.” I chose to interpret it thusly.

“Zahr-e-ma’r!” means “Poison of a snake”, loosely translated from Persian/Farsi: the language of people from Iran. It is a mild curse word. These people have a very poetic language even when it is attempting to be foul. Why do I know such things? Because I worked for Iranian (pronounced “Ihh-RAHN-ee-an” not EYE-rain-ee-an) people and my favorite dentist is whom Sima is named for. That’s right, dentist.

COMMENTS WELCOME even long after this is posted. If your new to the group and liked what ya read, why not let myself and any other authors you read know. It’s a wonderful form of payment, frequently inspiring better story-telling even friendship.