Title: More Than Just Icing

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: For rude words, Willy's twisted way of thinking, and frowned-upon thoughts.

Author: Figs (co-written with Ahh-Chew)

Credits: DBSK "Tri-Angle", Within Temptation "Stand My Ground", Linkin Park "Breaking the Habit", Charlie and the Chocolate Factory (2005 Version).

Summary: I sent out five golden tickets, in hopes of finding an heir that would care for my factory, the Oompa-Loompas, and continue my life's work. I found him, the minute he stepped through my door, but when he decided to stay with the family, I almost thought my heart had broken. I wanted him, and no one could say no to me forever.

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Today was the day. The chocolate factory had started up with a vigor, pouring out more chocolate today than it had before. The tickets had to be well-hidden, they had to be immersed in tons of other bars, he wasn't going to let anyone have it easy. There would be greedy fingers eagerly breaking through each and every one of the wrappers like they were nothing, and simply throw away his candy in the same manner. No, his child had to be worth it, lucky enough to find a ticket, but humble enough to know how important it was.

It also helped that he was somewhat of a celebrity around the world.

Five golden tickets, all placed upon innocent bars of chocolate and shipped out. He watched as they zoomed along the belt toward their respective boxes. Now it was nothing but a waiting game, and he was betting against himself. Surely, one in those five would be perfect for his factory. The world might not understand it, but in good time they would see to his plan, a child he could model and teach, a child he could relate to, a child that was nothing and everything like him.

God, it was just going to be one of those days, wasn't it?

--

Willy sighed as he signed the last of the shipment papers for the day. Doris had been relentless at chasing him down to finish what was beyond her authority and he (not for the first time) contemplated in promoting her to a higher position, if only to get himself out of the paperwork responsibility. It had only been two days now, two days and still no word from the outside world of his tickets. The media was buzzing, practically falling over itself to scrape up whatever information it could glean out of his letter. They would never know what he had in store for his child, his heir.

Willy grunted softly at the painful twist in his heart. He placed the pen down on the stack of papers he finished and picked up his hat from the corner of the desk and popped it on his head without a thought. His gloves and cane were soon in his hands and his boots clicked rhythmically as he exited his office and trekked down the hall, all the while his mind whirling at the image it had envisioned of his child. Undoubtedly, they would be short, a tiny little thing. Maybe scrawny, lanky, or they could be slender but by no means wider than two or three Oompa-Loompas, that was just unacceptable.

He hoped they had colored eyes, blue or green, to counter his kaleidescope irises of violets, blues, and all different hues. He hardly noticed the Oompa-Loompa that scurried in front of him to open the elevator glass door before he slammed into it. Absentmindedly, he pressed the button that would lead him to his bedroom, the day was hardly old, but he was tired. Thinking and worrying over the golden tickets had his mind too distracted to work and make proper candy. The elevator rumbled and shot off to the left before dropping and speeding to the right.

Willy watched as his factory flashed before him, his Oompa-Loompas were hard at work, stirring the chocolate, working in the rooms created for specific ingredients, or generally wandering about in their hurry to preen the factory to a shining glory. His lips quirked into a vague, lopsided smile. The Oompa-Loompas had been thrilled at the idea of visitors, an new and fresh audience to perform too, and especially so when one of them would soon be a new addition to the family.

His smile dropped.

Family. Willy snorted and tapped his cane anxiously against the glass floor of his elevator. Family indeed. He shuffled only slightly when the elevator jerked to a stop in a hallway. Red carpet stretched out down the hall, a sharp contrast to the cream colored walls and added spice to the few paints he had collected over the years and his explorations. He walked past the first few doors until he arrived at a dark wood door that opened to his room, but just as his hand reached for the knob, there was a shout and an Oompa-Loompa came scuttling down the hall.

Willy frowned, has it begun? He bowed at the waist slightly and nodded to the panting Oompa-Loompa. The poor Oompa-Loompa was one of the few who was still having trouble with the English language and so he settled on gesturing wildly, trying to get his message across: they found it. Willy couldn't dive into his room fast enough. He hurried to the rarely used television set and clicked to the channel Reginald (but most knew him as Reggie) indicated.

Wonka had to wince. This boy was certainly not his heir. The porker was more than three Oompa-Loompas big! He turned to Reggie and was glad to see the disgusted twist of features on the little creature's face.

Four more to go.

--

Willy was never one to go back on his word, that much he had promised he would never do. It was the end of the month and four tickets had been found, each and every one of the children who did (even though they had received it through means he had disagreed with) were one disappointment after another. None of them were what he wanted, none of them held the imaginative mind he could work with, all of them were pieces of him, his greed, his genius, his hunger – but none of them were him, whole.

He almost felt like crying. The first of February was fast approaching, in fact it was the night before, and his heart gave into that funny little twist of pain it developed. The fifth and final ticket wasn't found, the media hadn't mentioned it and he nearly cursed in frustration, bloody ticket is in my adoptive town and it hasn't even been found! Here he had hoped to find a child from this particular town, but Fate just loved the idea of tormenting him as it had done through most of his life. The Oompa-Loompas had tried their best to sing upbeat tunes and funny songs to get him to cheer up, but it was all in vain. He wouldn't find one, his perfect child (or near perfect, since no one could really be like him) was out there and he didn't find the ticket.

Willy snapped his cane at a candy apple that hung close by him. The innocent piece fell to the ground and rolled, stopping only when it crashed into an unsuspecting Oompa-Loompa, knocking him over. Willy jerked nervously and scuttled forward, reaching out a hand to his little worker. "I'm so sorry," he said, helping the little man to his feet, "I'm just really, really bummed out right now." Thomas, this Oompa-Loompa smiled and nodded his head in understanding.

"Willy," Wonka winced at Doris' sharp tone, but turned and greeted her with a weak smile. The little female returned the feature, "it's been found."

His eyes widened and he hurried over to Doris, taking the clipboard from her. "Who was it? Who found it, huh?"

She laughed at his fast-paced words. "A little boy that lives at the end of town. Charles Bucket. He found it just in time. The chip in the ticket blared so suddenly I almost fell out of my chair."

Wonka wasn't listening. Charles Bucket. Charlie. He smiled and glanced down at the clipboard as he wandered away, his shoulders lax and his pace easy, wonderful. That sounds like a name I could learn to love.

--

He felt as nervous today as he did when he placed those darned tickets on the chocolate bars. His heart was fluttering madly in his chest, his hand was gripping the globe of his cane anxiously and his other hand had to resist crumbling the cue cards between his fingers. The puppets were ready, the audio was set to play on time, the Oompa-Loompas were dressed in their best and their songs were ready for each and every one of the children he knew wouldn't win, no matter how hard they tried. Sans the one, Charles Bucket whom the media didn't know about until this morning, the one boy that held all of Wonka's hopes and future plans.

Wonka sighed to steady his nerves and watched as the gates opened from the screen. He leaned forward, close to the microphone. "Please, enter."

They hurried in, one after the other, it almost looked like they were ready to push their companions out of the way just to be the first one's in, it had him rolling his eyes in annoyance. Not five minutes and already I dislike them all. Of course, that wasn't to say he didn't dislike them the moment he saw their interviews on TV, but that was neither here nor there at this point. An Oompa-Loompa tapped his knee and Wonka turned his eyes down to his worker, nodding for the other to continue.

Oscar pointed to the screen, grinning, "Doris said it was that boy. That's Charles."

Willy's eyes were glued to the screen. Oh, my. His eyes focused on the thin and pale face of the last ticket holder. Wonka nearly shouted for joy, he's almost like I hoped he would be. So scrawny, though. Wonka frowned, he would have to remedy that as soon as possible, poor thing looked starved half to death and didn't even look heavy enough to withstand the icy wind that blew outside. Wonka had to get them inside quickly, "Come forward."

They rushed now and he almost laughed. So eager to come, too bad they have no idea the little Bucket boy has already won. "Close the gates."

He fingered the microphone has he waved Oscar away to ready their greeting. This is going to be interesting.

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Notes: So, first short chapter of the remake. I promise the second chapter and those following won't be as short. Give it a read, and if you like it enough, let me know. If ya hate it, well, be nice and let me down easy, yeah? I hope most of you like my portrayal of Willy and his silliness. He really is a genius, just... unconventional.

Please review.