This isn't the greatest piece of writing, but I rather like the potential of the concept and plot. So Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own anything related to Charlie and the Chocolate Factory.

Beta by: xxbutterflypunkbellexx

A Bit of Pondering

In the midst of success and after finding an heir, Mr. Wonka still felt a swell of emptiness inside the pit of his stomach. Nothing seemed to coax him out of this vacant feeling. Even his self imposed sessions with the Oompa Loompa psychiatrist didn't help. What was wrong with him? Was something horribly wrong that he couldn't quite put his gloved finger on? He double, triple and quadruple checked his list of things to do.

Find an heir: check

Persuade heir to take over business: Check

Invent new flavor of Taffy: Check

Fix Garbage Incinerator: Check

Semi-annual Hair Cut: Check

But, his brain began to turn in a different direction. He thought back onto meeting his father for the first time in over thirty years. It was a bit frightening (though he would never admit that) and hopeful. It showed him candy really wasn't everything.

He stood on one of the bridges in his sweets laden paradise. He was leaving the Bucket's house after a scrumptious dinner, and should have been feeling bloated and content, but the everlasting bare feeling loomed over him. Just as he was about to shake off his ponderings, the door to the Bucket house opened behind him.

"Mr. Wonka?" the small voice of Charlie called softly. He turned around with a shocked expression as if re-entering the real world after one of his curious flashbacks.

"Huh?" he exclaimed, not making eye contact with Charlie.

"I just wanted to know if you were feeling alright. You've been a bit—funny for the last week or so," it was strange having Charlie say this; considering funny in Charlie's eyes meant topsy-turvy mad to normal children.

"Yeah, I'm just peachy Charlie," he gave Charlie one of his classic grins and turned back around, disappearing into a swirl of powdered-confection snow.

What is ever so wrong? This question rolled in his brain, literally making his head sway side to side. The candy is great, my new heir couldn't be better, and I've finally seen my dad. Then his thoughts shifted to something else. While at dinner that night, he had seen Mr. Bucket quickly slip Mrs. Bucket a kiss on the lips before complimenting her cooking. When seeing that peck, he felt something in the very deep pit of his stomach growl. At first he dismissed it as the new blackberry tart taffy settling in his stomach, but when thinking about it, he didn't feel it had anything to do with candy.

Am I jealous of Mr. Bucket? He thought curiously. No, how could he be? He had never been envious of another person in his life. Well, we can put on the brakes to that thought; he did feel rather sour towards anyone who had family. But that feeling went away; this wasn't.

He kept replaying the kiss in his head over and over andoverandoverandover….

Until it was he who was kissing Mrs. Bucket. He almost startled himself right out of his chair with the thought. Being in love with Mrs. Bucket certainly wasn't the answer to the problem, but he felt he was creeping closer to the solution. It had to do with love. But by whom? It hit him on the head harder than any everlasting gobstopper could.

He was lonely in a sense of love. The bareness expanded alarmingly fast in his chest, forcing him to take in a deep breath. So that was the reason. How simple of a reason too; right in front of his nose. Now all he had to do was find someone to love…in that sense.

But where to start? He couldn't pull another golden ticket stunt. That would be much too disappointing if all of the girls he found were raving fanatics. He needed someone who wouldn't want him just because of his fame and fortune. He thought long and hard of where someone like that cold be found, and came up with nothing. This was going to be tricky, even for the ingenious Willy Wonka.

Once he entered his colorful abode, he began to pace in front of the fire, rubbing his chin with a hand as he went. I don't want to overdo the ticket thing, I can't go looking for someone on my own...he was slowing down his pace as time pressed on to forbidden hours of the night. Idea after idea zoomed through his skull, but nothing came close to helping.

Women are like candy, son, at first they may be sweet, but soon you'll get sick of them. And in the end, they'll just damage you. His father's voice rang through his ears. He remembered his father telling him this one day when they had passed by a group giggling girls who pointed at Willy's braces. He didn't think of it much at the time, but now he stopped his mindless walking in circles to ponder.

He never knew his mother, he never saw his father look at another woman unless they were a patient, and if Charlie ever so looked at a girl, his father would snap at him and say, "there are better things to be looking at," why did my father hate them so much? He shook himself like a wet dog; I'm getting off topic here!

He began pacing the room once more thinking of ways to find a love. No one would love me for anything more than my fame and fortune. Mrs. Beauregarde was the one to show him that. She represented all of the women who would stop at nothing to get what they want.

But I can't make them love me for any other reason…he stopped his pacing once more. His lips curled into a very wide grin.

Oh, but I can make someone love me!

He sat down with a team of Oompa Loompas in his inventing room and began giving the orders. All of them looked up attentively, waiting for his command. They all wore emerald green suits, made of the same shiny material as all of the other uniforms in his factory.

"The idea of which I have concocted will be written down in chocolate history. For no man has ever thought; no…ever dreamed of what we will be working on." The Oompa Loompas looked at him still with those serious, focused faces, but the gears in their brains were beginning to turn with curiosity.

"Today, I will start my greatest creation of all," he paused deliberately for a dramatic effect. "I will make a living person out of chocolate!" This is where the cheesy lightning would have cued if it were a Frankenstein movie. But it wasn't so only the whizzing, popping, churning and other odd noises of the machines filled the room. He laughed his usual high pitched laugh at his own genius. Once stopping abruptly with an, 'ahem' of the throat, he looked down at his workers once more and began handing them different folders containing sketches and notes.

"These are the plans of course. I want this project worked on only in the sub-inventing room, nothing will show up here. Is that understood?" the Oompa Loompas crossed there arms over their chests and bowed lowly to him. As he mimicked their actions, they began to scurry around, preparing for this task.

Now we wait….and let the fun begin!

A/N: This entire chapter is the thoughts and emotions of Mr. Willy Wonka! I'm sorry if it got quite boring, but I'm sure it will get much better in the next chapter now that the pondering and such is out of the way. When he finally got the idea to make a girl for himself, I could see lightning flash and thunder crack outside his window like one of those old Frankenstein movies…don't ask me why! Also, terribly sorry if grammar and spelling is foul; I would love to have someone beta it for me. All critiquing is welcome!