Disclaimer: I do not own anything from TVD.

A/N: This is a series of connected one-shots. Reviews are appreciated

Bonnie watches Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory for the first time at the tender and impressionable age of six. She doesn't know it then, but it's the start of a love affair that will last a lifetime.

She's a tiny caramel thing herself, hair braided and tied at the end with red hair bobbles shaped to look like bright, round cherries. Bonnie often likes to sway her head to and fro as she sits cross-legged on the living room floor, watching the dark brown and red fly by.

Her Grams' house is her favorite place to be, the one place she feels most loved.

She comes over every Saturday morning and stays the entire day and night.

They cook pecan pie that day, and the rich sugary smell wafts up her nostrils, seeming to settle and stay, going down deep without her even tasting a bite.

Her world begins and ends and centers around Sheila, the only constant she's ever known.

They sit huddled together, backs sinking into the peach colored sofa cushions as the film begins. The blinds are shut but it's not dark, as the afternoon sunlight creates a warm glow throughout the room.

Bonnie doesn't mind.

She gasps and giggles, and raises smiling emerald eyes to her Grams as Mr. Wonka fake trips, then rolls, revealing himself to be perfectly fine. His trickery leaves her spellbound and in her little girl's mind a certain delight takes root.

Snozberry? What's a snozberry? Bonnie doesn't know, but they sound weird and wonderful. She thinks on it, biting her full lips, and decides to ask Grams if she could try one someday soon.

Time goes by and the treat on her lap calls to her, but she doesn't lift her small hands from where they are wrapped around her waist. She always waits for the perfect time to indulge in and savor her sweets.

She watches with rapt attention, heartbeat fluttering wildly in excitement inside her young chest as the odd group opens the black lacquered door and enters into the Chocolate Room.

Her eyes widen significantly at what they find. Bonnie's face reflects all the same rapture and astonished wonder apparent on Charlie's boyish face.

A chocolate waterfall on the far end, falling…down…down into chocolate river. (Bonnie gasps, and Sheila tightens her hold on her grandbaby, eyes alight with fondness).

Gummy bear trees all around the path. Red and orange and yellow bears all shining and bigger than Bonnie's own head. (She laughs loudly and wishes she were Violet as the blue dressed girl bites into one with determination as it's knocked down for her to grab).

Red and yellow mushrooms, ones that would surely come up to Bonnie's chest if she were to stand in front of them. They're spotted white, and Bonnie wonders how they were supposed to eat them before she sees the skinny shorthaired mom dip her finger into the white and pop it in her mouth.

("Is that cream, Grams? Like you and me make for our banana cream pie?" The little girl's bell like voice exclaims and glances up at the woman. "Sure is, my Bonnie girl," Sheila smiles and kisses the top of her precious head).

The crazily dressed blue-eyed blonde man (Mr. Wonka, Bonnie reminds herself and thinks of how the name matches the personality of the man – he must be mad) sings a song about Pure Imagination. And though she doesn't understand the deeper meaning at the time, later she'll think back to this exact moment and this man when pondering her life's situation.

She moves her striped sock- covered feet back and forth along with the catchy rhythm. The man's voice is so smooth. Rising high and low with an obvious ease that Bonnie later tries to mimic as she skips with bare feet through the grass in Sheila's backyard. She fudges the words, mixing lyrics together and leaving out some she knows, but not caring overly much.

It's not about being perfect. No…not for her. She thinks there's something all together wonderful… something strange and beautiful in being just the opposite. Bonnie admits that perhaps Mr. Wonka has a little something to do with this new view of hers.

Near the end of the song, Willy Wonka takes off his brown top hat and sits on the ground. As the man picks up a yellow buttercup and takes a sip, Bonnie in tandem breaks off a bit of the pecan pie with her bare fingers and raises it to her lips.

Bonnie pauses.

Mr. Wonka bites into the buttercup's edge with a crunch as Bonnie slips her now sticky caramel fingers holding the treat into her mouth at last.

She shuts her eyes in delight at the different tastes and textures that assault her ("Taste buds, Grams?" Bonnie checks with her Grams – she loves learning new things. "That's right, Bonnie baby," Sheila confirms with a twinkle in her all-knowing eyes) taste buds.

The molasses and brown sugar flavors combine with the nuttiness of the fresh pecans in the exact way that Bonnie so loves. It slides down her throat, she feels it go down, and settles in her belly giving her a satisfied feeling that's just the start.

His voice tapers off and the camera pans in. Bonnie continues to eat her pecan pie, scooping larger and larger portions upwards in her palms. Whenever she can she likes to go without using spoons or forks, why this is she couldn't quite tell you.

At his final silence, when Bonnie comprehends his singing for now is at an end, she licks her fingers daintily and grins wide.

I'm gonna marry somebody crazy and wonderful like Willy Wonka someday, little Bonnie thinks to herself. It's a secret wish that funnily enough is a bit of a premonition for events to come.