Disclaimer: I do not own Charlie and the Chocolate factory, nor the characters, basically anything. All belong to Dahl, Burton, etc.

A/N: Based off of the 2005 movie "Charlie and the Chocolate Factory." Also, loosely based off of Metallica's "Enter Sandman" song; lyrics incorporated in the dialogue.

This will be just two chapters. This first one is quite tame. Give it a read.

All reviews welcomed and incouraged.

A lean flame appeared in the moonlight. It was pressed against the end of the thin device held between ruby lips. An inhale and the lighter was extinguished.

Willy Wonka lowered his eyelids to slits as he breathed deep the sweetness. He was enjoying one of his recent new inventions that he named a chocolate cigarette. With each intake it gave off a new flavor onto the tongue; ranging from peppermint, dark chocolate, white chocolate, strawberry, almonds, and many other tastes. The smoke emitting from the end and what was breathed in was not harmful in any way. It was to be used as a snack between meals, and not only was it a delicious treat, but Wonka also had the idea that it could help smokers seeking to kick their habit with tobacco. The product would be going on the market soon, and he predicted there would be slight uproar from concerned parents. If they were forbidden by parents, he knew the kids would be smart and rebel. How could they deny a new candy from the greatest candy maker in the world? There was nothing like being told not to do something and do it anyway just to spite others. He knew that from experience.

Charlie Bucket watched his mentor from his bed. He gazed at the man with extreme admiration, veneration, and friendliness. Ever since his family had passed away in what was declared a "freak accident" in one of the factory rooms, Wonka had made sure that the boy rarely left his sight. Charlie tried to push the memory of his loved ones aside and grow accustomed to his new provider. He understood Wonka cared for him, but there was always some other emotion shielded behind the candy man's eyes that at times unnerved Charlie. The innocence still contained within Charlie, however, always let it pass, and he never dwelled on the mysterious glint for too long.

The bright beams of the moon were the only illumination in the dark. Wonka stared out the window he sat next to and took a lengthy drag from his cigarette. When he exhaled, a very light brown colored smoke came out from his mouth, filling the area around him with the scent of caramel. Charlie loved observing the chocolatier when he smoked each night in his bedroom. It had become tradition for Wonka to occupy the lad's room for varying periods of time before Charlie fell asleep. It was a comfort to the young child to have him near, occasionally reciting stories, and say good night.

"Did I ever tell you about the Sandman, Charlie?" Wonka asked quietly, brown wisps escaping through his lips as he talked.

Charlie smiled, and although Wonka had told him the story, he humored the eccentric chocolatier's lack of a good memory and replied, "No, you haven't."

Wonka's eyes shifted from looking upon the outside world to Charlie's angelic face. "I haven't! Well! I guess it's story time, isn't it?"

Charlie giggled from the enthusiasm in the man's voice. Wonka turned himself completely around and leaned back against the glass of the window. A long inhale, followed by a long release of the breath, Wonka appeared to be gathering the tale in his head. Charlie always thought he looked calmer and subdued when he had a chocolate cigarette.

"The Sandman," Wonka started, "Is someone who brings dreams to all little girls and little boys. He comes into your room at night and pinches a bit of chocolate dust between his fingers from the small bag at his waist and-" Wonka got up, puffing still on his treat, and moved to sit in front of Charlie on the bed. "-He sprinkles the dust onto your closed eyes-" Wonka rubbed his forefinger and thumb together above Charlie's face to demonstrate. Charlie shut his eyes to play along. "-and sings the words, 'Exit light. Enter night. Take my hand. We're off to never-Never Land."

Charlie reopened his eyes and waited expectantly for Wonka to continue.

"The dust and words are most important. Together they wake up the dreams and stimulate the body in unknown ways, sort of like chocolate. Of course, the dreams aren't always good ones. It depends on if he's feeling generous or not. Indeed, he can get a bit mischievous." Wonka grinned madly, his lilac orbs tainted with a glint of excitement.

"But Mr. Wonka, the dreams can't be too terrible, can they?"

"Oh my dear boy, of course they can! The imagination is a very vivid tool that can conjure up all sorts of images! The Sandman controls these aspects at night. You'll know if you caught him on a good round; you'll be rewarded with good dreams. If you have nightmares, you can be quite sure he was feeling icky or just wanted to have a bit of fun."

Charlie breathed deep the pleasant smell of the smoke as Wonka expelled it from his "O" shaped lips.

"What does the dust do?" he inquired politely.

"Huh?" Wonka obviously had not heard the question.

"The chocolate dust; what does it do?"

"Oh! It makes it so that you take off in a tremendously deep sleep. You won't wake up from anything. Your dreams will seem so real." His white teeth sparkled in the light as he smiled broadly for a second.

"Now then, you should be getting ready to sleep."

He stood, held his cigarette securely between his lips, and began packing the covers around and underneath Charlie firmly in order to hold him in tightly.

"Why so snug?" Charlie asked gently.

"As they say: 'Tuck you in, warm within. Keep you safe from sin. 'Till the sandman he comes'."

Wonka finished, grasped his treat between his fingers, and kissed the boy softly on the forehead. He brushed his latex gloved hand against the spot a few times and whispered, "Good night, Charlie."

Charlie giggled from the warmness of the smoke tickling against his skin. "Good night, Mr. Wonka."

Wonka stepped to the doorway and retrieved his top hat and cane. He was about to leave, but stopped and turned back to Charlie.

"Don't forget: Say your prayers, little one, don't forget to include everyone."

"I won't," Charlie replied with a smile. Wonka said that to him every night.


Wonka exited, closing the door behind him. He paused for a moment, mind racing and heart beginning to beat quicker. A quiet, amusing sound came from him, and he headed towards his quarters.

Heavy thoughts to begin the night.

A/N: Please take a second and review.