Author's Note: I'm not giving any disclaimers. Though this is a work in progress, I intend to keep it non-Mary Sue-ish, but it may, every so often, lean that direction. Also, I tried to keep Sydney as unlike me as possible, but we'll see what happens. Kay?

On a different note entirely, this fic needs a title. If anyone can think of one appropriate enough, please do send forth your suggestions. :-)

Additionally, this whole fic was based on one picture. if your interest has been piqued, it can be viewed http/img394.imageshack.us/my.php?image195mr.jpg there.

P.S. visit my site! http/thefactory. anyhoo, on with the fic!

Chapter One - Broom Closet

Sydney rocked back on her heels, exhaling deeply. It felt, to her, as if she had been waiting for days, even though it had only been about half an hour.

I hate interviews so much, she thought, her heart pounding. Her past job was one she had had since she was fifteen, and she could hardly even remember that interview. Three years, four managers, and a fire later, she decided that her time at the bakery was over.

When she had heard that Wonka's was hiring, she did not hesitate to head over to the little corner shop on Cherry Street. At the very least, Sydney hoped to finally catch a glimpse of the one that many people called one of the greatest chocolatiers to ever live. Wonka made her favorite chocolate bar of all time - his original milk chocolate mixture. There was something to it that just made her so euphoric, as if nothing in the world was wrong.

When Sydney had first stepped into the little shop just that afternoon, the first thing that hit her was the wonderful, sweet, smooth aroma of melting chocolate. The second thing that hit her was the small child running across the store at a very high rate of speed.

Without thinking, Sydney quickly grabbed at the child in order to keep it from falling backwards.

"Are you okay?" Sydney asked, releasing her grip once she was certain that the child was in no danger of falling.

"Sorry!" the little boy gave a sheepish grin, and took off again, except this time out the door.

Sydney couldn't help but chuckle a bit, shaking her head and walking towards the front counter.

"Welcome to Wonka's, miss! Might I interest you in our newest creation - the Whipple-Scrumptious Fudgemallow Delight?" The old man behind the counter was beaming widely at her, and she couldn't help but grin back.

"No thank you, Joe," she replied, having read his nametag. "I was just stopping in about the job."

Joe stopped and pondered a second. "Mr. Wonka had asked me to let anyone that was interested know that they would be given interviews at closing time." He glanced up at the clock on the wall. "We'll be closing in half an hour, so if you would prefer to wait, you're more than welcome to do so."

Sydney glanced around, suddenly quite nervous. "Um..out of curiosity, how many people have asked yet?"

"Just you, miss." At this news, she breathed a small sigh of relief, but she was still nervous about the whole thing.

A half an hour had passed, and the last customer had been checked out. The shelves were mostly bare at that point, so Sydney noticed. When Joe summoned her, her heart began racing even faster than before.

He opened the counter door for her and motioned for her to enter. She did so, taking very careful steps. He led her into the back of the shop, where the machines were still working busily to keep up with the very high demand of Wonka's magic chocolate.

Very suddenly, Joe came to a halt, causing poor Sydney to nearly crash into the old man. This caused him to chuckle a bit.

"Very sorry. Almost missed the door." The door he stopped at had a sign on the door reading "Broom Closet." The girl peered at it in confusion, but Joe waved his hand in a dismissive fashion.

"Mr. Wonka recently moved his office, and we have yet to change the sign." He took a moment to study the sign, but soon turned to face Sydney.

"Well, he's in there. I wish you the best of luck." A genuine grin crossed his face, and as he stepped past her towards the front lobby, he gave her an encouraging pat on the back.

Sydney turned to face the door, gazing at the sign. She closed her eyes momentarily and took a very deep breath. She turned the handle and pulled the door open. Almost immediately, six or seven large brooms felt it necessary to fall onto the girl, knocking her to the floor with a loud shriek.

"Miss?" a quiet voice she did not recognize asked, full of confusion. However, Sydney was mildly preoccupied, having just had six or seven large brooms fall upon her. She was wrestling with them, attempting to literally get them out of her hair.

"Uh..miss?" the voice asked again. Sydney finally gave one last tug and a toss, and she was free of her dustpan prison. Collecting herself off the ground, she stood and dusted herself off. It was only at that point that she noticed the boy standing next to her.

"Oh!" She gave a little yelp of surprise, attempting to make herself as presentable as possible as quickly as she could. The boy appeared as if he were trying to hide a smile, though not terribly well.

"You missed a spot. There." With one red-gloved hand, the boy reached out and pointed to a point on her left shoulder, and indeed, she had missed that spot. Blushing slightly, she quickly brushed away the leftover dust from the broom assault.

"Thank you." She paused momentarily. "Um.. you wouldn't happen to know where I may find Mr. Wonka, would you? Joe brought me here, but it was a broom closet."

"Of course it was a broom closet, silly! Wasn't the door labeled as such?" The boy grinned, standing all his weight on one leg with his hands on his hips.

"Well, yes, but..." she trailed off, unable to think of anything to make her situation a little less silly sounding.

"It's okay. I told him to bring you to the broom closet." The boy giggled a bit.

"That wasn't very nice of you. What would Mr. Wonka say if he..." Then it all clicked.

"Are you Mr. Wonka?" she asked hesitantly, sizing up the boy in front of her. He was thin, but in more of that awkward way that many teenaged boys tend to be. His clothes were all very richly-colored in deep reds and purples that would put many tropical birds to shame. The color of his skin caused her to immediately liken him to a porcelain doll, with his dark hair contrasting sharply to his dramatically pale skin.

His eyes were what caught and held her attention so well. They were a deep, regal violet - so unusually colored, she thought. Despite his young-looking face, his eyes revealed, to some miniscule degree, a startling revelation, though Sydney could not place it exactly.

"Willy Wonka, the amazing chocolatier, at your service miss," he said in a conceited tone of voice. With a great, exaggerated flourish, he removed the hat from his head and gave a deep bow.

"Sydney Philips," she introduced herself, her voice much less tenacious than the former. She gave a little curtsey, but nothing to compare to the boy's.

At that point, her mouth decided to start going when her brain refused. "Though I must admit, I was expecting someone a little bit..." she stopped, realizing her gaff.

Wonka placed the hat back on his head and returned it to its perfect angle once again.

"Older?"