Sugar and Spice
Disclaimer: Willy Wonka and his fantastic chocolate factory is the property of Roald Dahl and Warner Brothers pictures. We have made no profit from this fiction and do not plan to. No legal action is necessary. Thank you.
Chapter two – Emergency Pants & Unisex Bras
Mrs Bucket stared at him. Had she heard correctly? There was no doubt about it, Willy Wonka had said it; he was a girl.
"When?"
"Last night!" wailed Willy. "When I woke up this morning, I was… I was different!"
"O…kay…" Mrs Bucket answered, only a little confused. "What do you mean different?" Willy stared at her. Surely she hadn't just said that.
"What do you think?" He spluttered.
"Well, what makes you think you're a girl?" Willy gaped at her and shook his head.
"Certain bits are… no longer where they should be, and other bits are definitely on a grander scale that before!"
"Certain bits…?" Mrs Bucket answered, suppressing a smile.
"This isn't funny!" Willy shouted. Mrs Bucket snorted, but quickly covered it with a polite cough.
"I know, I know." She stifled a giggle and tried to remember that what was happening to Willy was every man's worst nightmare. "Is this effect permanent?"
"I should hope not!" Willy cried. "I can't stay a girl forever!"
"So, you're confident that the effects of the candy will wear off?"
"Yes."
"I see." Mrs Bucket began to pace the room. "Well, you should get into some pants that fit, and we'll go on from there." She folded her arms and looked at Willy. "I'll just go and get a tape measure and we'll measure you up – I can go and buy you some pants."
"No need – come with me." Said Willy, standing gingerly. He made sure nothing was visible as far as underpants went (thank goodness he wore that long frock coat!) and led her to the elevator. Mrs Bucket stepped in behind him and watched as he searched through the buttons of the elevator. "Haven't used this one in years…" he muttered. He pressed a button labeled Emergency Pants. Mrs Bucket raised an eyebrow inquisitively.
"Emergency Pants?" she asked. The elevator lurched to the left and they were on their way. Willy laughed nervously and began to explain the history of the button.
"In case of emergencies, such as fire, leeches, or this."
"Leeches…"
"Don't ask. We had an incident one Halloween. Not pretty."
"Okay…" The elevator screeched to a halt and there they were. They stepped into what looked like just an overly large janitor's closet. A tall machine stood in one corner, the size of a wardrobe and black as midnight, bright lights flashing on its surface. Nothing else was in the room, and Mrs Bucket was acutely aware that this room had been abandoned for years.
"Hope it still works," said Willy, hopping on one leg nervously. He walked over to the machine and pushed as large, green button. With a hiss of escaping air, two doors opened on the side of the machine. Hesitantly, Willy stepped through the doors and pressed another button. The large machine whirred to life, making a frightening groaning noise. Mrs Bucket was about to ask if all was well when the doors slammed shut. A bright, green light shown through the crack between them and a computerized voice announced, "Scanning." Mrs Bucket waited patiently.
"Scanning complete. Please step out and wait for your item."
Willy stepped out and whistled. "Well, that took longer than expected. I was a bit worried there for a moment." He picked up his pocket watch and looked at the time. "Not long now." Humming under his breath, Willy made a show of examining his fingernails. Mrs Bucket was going to point out that this cover action was technically impossible due to the gloves, but decided against it. Obviously, Willy did not want to talk. There was a ding! and the machine spat out a pair of pants. Willy smiled, effortlessly catching them in a gloved hand. "Would you mind turning around?" he asked Mrs Bucket politely.
"Of course not." A few moments later, Willy was in his new pants. A full-size mirror sprang out from seemingly nowhere and Willy admired himself in the mirror. He let out a low whistle, flipping the coat tails to look at his rear.
"Man, I look good..." He whispered. Mrs Bucket smiled. She turned around and regarded the chocolatier critically. He cocked his head to one side and frowned.
"What is it, Willy?"
"Does my bum look big in this?"
"No. In fact, a lot of women would kill for your figure." She said before she could stop herself. Willy shot her a confused look.
"They'd kill for this?"
"Well, they would envy you."
"They'd envy someone who's totally in the wrong body?"
"I know I'd love to be able to fit inside those trousers."
"Women are weird."
"Get used to it," sniffed Mrs Bucket. "Now, you mentioned… other changes?"
"Well, yeah…" Willy blushed. He twiddled his thumbs uncomfortably. "Um…"
"Let me guess – boobs?" asked Mrs Bucket.
"Yeah, those." He blushed a shade redder. "They hurt." He added quietly. "They don't seem to like being hidden."
"I'm not surprised – take your coat off."
"No way!" Mrs Bucket tapped her foot.
"William Wonka…"
"Nuh-uh."
"Willy, think about it. I'm a woman, right? Don't you think I could help you?" She said in an exasperated tone.
"That would be logical…" He agreed slowly.
"So listen to me and take off your coat." Willy looked at her and swallowed. Slowly, he removed his coat, flinching as it dropped from his shoulders. Mrs Bucket stepped closer and ran her eyes over his chest. "The waistcoat too." Willy looked as though he might argue, but quickly divested himself of the garment when he saw the look on Mrs Bucket's face. He let out a sigh of relief as the tight fabric released from around his chest.
"Ow." Mrs Bucket gave him a sympathetic smile.
"Feel better?" Willy smiled.
"Well, yeah! But… it's kinda uncomfortable to leave them like this too…"
"I think you might need a bra."
"A… what!" Willy paled considerably.
"Bra. Um..." Mrs Bucket gestured wildly, "Underwear. Women's."
"I know what a bra is," Willy interjected. He shook his head. "No, I can't! I just can't!"
"You'll have to." She smirked. "Unless you want them to sag…" Willy looked as though he might faint and indeed was forced to cling to Mrs Bucket's arm for support. As the nausea passed, Willy released Mrs Bucket and unconsciously wiped his glove on his shirt sleeve.
"Sag?" he asked weakly.
"There is such a thing as gravity, after all." Replied Mrs Bucket.
"This could be a good thing. After all, I don't want anyone to know about this."
"It's going to be difficult, er, covering this up, Willy." Willy frowned. "You could hide them like you did today, but they'll hurt." Mrs Bucket said.
"Ew…"
"It might be easier if you were honest about this. For your own comfort."
"But I can't tell Charlie – he'd find it too weird! And can you imagine Grandpa George's reaction?"
"I suppose."
"And my father?"
"True," Mrs Bucket thought for a moment. "I don't suppose you could, er, quarantine yourself?"
"Who would supervise the factory? Charlie's at school all day and none of you would be able to do it."
"Why not?"
"Because."
"In that case, would it be so bad if the Oompa Loompas reported to you in your room for their orders and we just told Charlie you were – I don't know – ill with a spot of the whangdoodles or something?
"Whangdoodles are…" Willy sighed, "Oh, never mind."
"You're paranoid."
"Am not!"
"Are too."
"Look, it's my factory and no amount of bodily changes is going to stop me from running it, ok?" said Willy with a childish stamp of his foot.
"Have it your way." Mrs Bucket sighed. "But Charlie's a smart lad. He'll figure it out, mark my words."
"How? I'm sure to come up with something to disguise these." He waved his hand in front of his chest.
"He's already noticed you've shrunk in height."
"Yeah, but—"
"You're a horrible liar – face it."
"How'd you know?"
"Oh, please!"
"Who told you!"
"Willy, I'm a mother! We've got radar for that sort of thing!" Willy gasped.
"I knew it!"
"Willy – just consider telling the truth to everyone. I'm sure they would be supportive. I could tell them for you if you'd like."
"No – I'll tell them. With one exception – I don't want Charlie to know. He'd freak out."
"But Willy—"
"He's only eleven. Do you really think he'd be able to cope with this?"
"I think you underestimate him."
"Whatever. Just… don't tell him. Please."
"Fine." Mrs Bucket sighed.
"Pinky promise?" Wonka held out a pinky. Mrs Bucket stared at him.
"What..?"
"You have to promise." He reached and prised up her little finger, linking it to his own with a small grin.
"You're the genius…" she sighed. "Fine, I pinky promise that I won't go out of my way to tell Charlie. But if Charlie asks, I won't lie to him." Willy paled at this. He made a strange, sort of strangled sound.
"Why not?"
"He's my son. I won't betray his trust." Willy's expression froze and for a moment it looked as though he might protest. He thought better of it, though.
"Fine." He looked down and gave a small sigh. Mrs Bucket followed his gaze and was reminded that they still needed to get him into a bra.
"Um, Willy… there's just one more thing."
"Hm?" He looked at her as though he had snapped out of a rather deep thought.
"Well, we need to do something about restraining… those." She indicated Willy's newly enlarged chest. Willy's eyes widened and he coughed nervously.
"I know just the place." He said in a hoarse voice before putting his waistcoat and frock coat back on and heading back to the elevator. Mrs Bucket followed him into the elevator and watched as he sought out a button on the wall. Casting a sideways glance to the wall, as if he couldn't quite bring himself to look at it, Willy pressed the call button for Unisex Bras. She opened her mouth to ask about it, but he stopped her with "Don't ask, it's a long story. I'd rather not talk about it."
"You can't expect me not to wonder." Muttered Mrs Bucket. "Has this happened before?" she pointed to his chest.
"NO!" shouted Willy as the elevator sprang into life. "It concerns the Oompa Loompas, and I am not going into details." Mrs Bucket let Willy know he didn't need to shout. Willy, in typical Wonka style, stuck out his tongue, folded his arms, leaned against the wall, and proceeded to sulk.
"Party-pooper." Mrs Bucket whispered under breath. Willy pretended he hadn't heard.
Finally, the elevator arrived at a room labeled Unisex Bras. Mrs Bucket thought about raising an inquisitive eyebrow at the lacy decoration around the room, but decided not to. Willy stepped off of the elevator first and led the curious housewife into the somewhat small room. She found herself ducking clothing rails bedecked with brassieres of all sizes and couldn't help noticing that Willy's eyes were fixed firmly on the floor. Several Oompa-Loompa females were busy at their workstations and shot amused glances in Willy's direction, momentarily abandoning their work as they motioned to each and asked what was going on. Before they could find out however, Willy raised his voice and called out to his workers,
"Lunch break! Everybody out!" The Oompa-Loompas filed out, casting furtive looks in Mrs Bucket's direction. For her part, Mrs Bucket was determined not to give away Willy's secret and kept her eyes fixed on the wall. Once they were alone, Willy exhaled slowly and removed his coat, laying it over a desk.
"Now what?"
Mrs Bucket spied a measuring tape next to a sewing machine and picked it up. "Stand up straight, Willy dear. We need to measure your chest to find out what size to give you."
"Measure my..."
"You'll need to take off your waistcoat and shirt." Willy took a bracing breath and turned his back on Mrs Bucket before swiftly removing his waistcoat and throwing it over his coat. He unbuttoned his shirt and slowly, hating the fact he had to appear half-naked, dropped the shirt to the floor, his arms hanging limply by his side. The cold air hit him, eliciting a nipple response that most women (and some men) would be all too familiar with.
"What's going on?" wailed Willy.
"It just means you're cold dear," said Mrs Bucket with a smile, bending to pick up Willy's shirt as he raised a protective arm to cover his chest. She reached for a measuring tape from one of the work stations and handed the end of it to Willy under one armpit. "Pass this underneath your breasts so we can take your measurements." Willy did as he was told and Mrs Bucket pulled the ends of the tape together behind Willy's back. "36..." she muttered.
"Is that normal?" asked Willy nervously.
"Yes, dear." laughed Mrs Bucket. "Now take this end and, well, um..."
"What? I thought you'd already measured that bit?"
"Now we need to measure over the fullest bit of the bust so we can work out your cup size."
"The fullest bit..." said Willy slowly. He positioned the tape measure appropriately and sighed impatiently as Mrs Bucket took another measurement.
"Now the difference makes you... 36B," mumbled Mrs Bucket, searching through the bras behind her. She selected one that didn't have any under wiring and handed it to Willy over his shoulder. "Try this on."
"Assuming that I'm going to have to do this myself over the next day or so, what's the easiest way to fasten it?"
"Pass it around your back, do the catch up in front, then spin the bra 'round and slip your arms into the hoops." Willy spun the bra around a tad faster than Mrs Bucket had meant and ended up with a slight friction burn.
"Ow!"
"Not so fast dear."
"I take it these things get tucked into the... bonnets."
"Cups, yes." A few minutes later and Willy was secured.
"How does it look?" he asked, turning around to check with Mrs Bucket that everything was as it should be.
"Fine."
"It doesn't seem to be doing its job as far as concealing these," Willy waved a hand dismissively at his chest, "is concerned. In fact, I'd say it had made matters worse."
"It's not supposed to conceal, Willy. It's meant to support them. Besides, it's this or the pain."
"This." He rested a hand on each hip and raised his eyebrows at Mrs Bucket, pouting slightly as he did so. She regarded the typically female body position and laughed.
"Don't do that. Not unless you want everyone to guess straight away that you're female."
"Kay." Willy hunched his shoulders a little and shrugged into his shirt, fastening it quickly and tucking it into his trousers. As he pulled on his waistcoat, he groaned. "I told you this thing had made things worse!" He flapped one side of the waistcoat, demonstrating that the waistcoat was no longer able to be fastened.
"Give it here," said Mrs Bucket thoughtfully. She picked up a pair of scissors and regarded the waistcoat critically. "You have a spare?"
"I have ten spares. You're not going to... hurt it... are you?" said Willy, wringing his hands worriedly.
"Just alter things a bit." She picked at the stitching in the darts that had formerly moulded the waistcoat to Willy's more masculine form the day before. Once she had finished, she handed the waistcoat to Willy, who tried it on. While still a little tight, it now fitted and, thanks to the more loose fit, it did partially conceal the unwanted cleavage. Willy slipped on his frockcoat and looked down, smiling slightly as he adjusted the pocket watch chain.
"You, madam, are a genius," he said with a full grin in Mrs Bucket's direction.
"Anytime."
"Onwards and upwards!" said Willy with a high-pitched giggle, heading back to the elevator.
"Willy—one more thing."
"Yes?"
"Try to lower your voice by an octave or so." Willy gaped for a moment, and then nodded thoughtfully.
"I'll bear that in mind," he said finally, stepping into the elevator.
Edmund's left brain here;
What's up? Hope you all like our little idea. This is really fun to write, so I hope it's fun to read. Sorry about the bit of the wait, this would have been posted sooner if not for a series of (unfortunate) events as far as typing and email glitches are concerned. But it's here now! So, rejoice, party, and whatever in the name of funny fiction. Also, I'd like to send a big shout out to Edmund's right brain for being able to resurrect the last bits of the fic twice. What would I be without you? Why, a half of a brain, of course. And we don't want that, do we? Also… if anyone can find the (vague) homage to Sleepy Hollow, you'll get some sort of recognition. It's obscure, though… you'll have to be as obsessive as… well, me to catch it. :P
Edmund's right brain here;
Hope you're all enjoying the story so far. Don't worry - there's plenty more to come from Willy (or should that be Wilhelmina?) and his, ahem, problem. It's far too much fun to write to stop yet! I'd like to apologise for the wait as well - it took me far too long to beta this. Please let us know how we're doing by reviewing, and many thanks to all those who have done so already.