More Than Just Icing Chapter 2: Chocolate Coated Gloop, a charlie and the chocolate factory fanfic

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: 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.

Chapter 2: Chocolate-coated Gloop. Ew.

His clapping seemed to have startled his guests, their eyes were wide with surprise as they turned to look his way. His nervousness gave way to his giddy excitement, aside from the burning of the puppets (which was planned, otherwise he wouldn't have bothered with the health center for them), his Oompa-Loompas had outdone themselves fantastically. Now came one of the hurtles, to get past the greetings. He stood before them, eyes scanning over their p – guardians' faces with a hint of disgust. Except for his Charlie, most of them were replicas of their parents, but given that Charlie had come with his elder, that was beyond the point.

"Who are you?" Wonka's eyes focused down at the little blond of the group and before he could answer, Charlie's elder spoke up. "He's Willy Wonka."

Charlie's blue eyes focused on him in amazement, and Wonka held his breath as the boy spoke, "Really?" Oh, goodness. The boy was so soft spoken, his voice wasn't cracked with puberty and it didn't hurt his ears. Though his excitement at finding this out nearly crippled him from his task at hand. He couldn't think of what to say, he froze and his mouth opened and shut noiselessly, he couldn't bring words from his lips. So he settled on the first thing that entered his mind, Doris' greeting to him every morning with her stack of papers.

"Good morning, starshine. The earth says hello!" To his disappointment, that particular greeting didn't go over so well. They glanced at each other, unsure of how to accept his greeting. He frowned and reached into his coat, all the while trying to keep his frustration under control, I'm such a dork. Why didn't I remember these darned cue cards? The Oompa-Loompas spent so much time making them for me and here I am forgetting them.

"Dear guests, greetings." He started and smiled at them, "Welcome to the factory, I shake you warmly by the hand." He reached out, but then hesitated. What? I'm not shaking all of their hands, that's unsanitary and these gloves are brand new! He pulled his hand back and returned his focus to the cue cards he held. "My name is Willy Wonka." He laughed softly and glanced at them again.

The brunette of the group, Veruca, pointed out uselessly. "Then shouldn't you be up there?" Eck, her voice is so weird. The smile dropped from his face and he had to work to keep his tone professional. Or at least, as professional as he could be with witless children.

"I couldn't very well watch the show from up there, now, could I, little girl?" Putting her name to his lips made anything too personal, and he wanted to keep as much distance between them and him as possible. It was Charlie he was after, anyway, and that moment was a ways off. Best to keep a front until the end of the ride became clear. These other children wouldn't stand a chance, or survive in his factory.

"Mr. Wonka, I don't know if you'll remember me," Wonka turned his eyes to Charlie's elder and placed away his cue cards, "but I used to work here in the factory."

Wonka paused, trying to remember, to put a name to the face. Bucket, Bucket... he looks familiar, but then again. "Were you one of those despicable spies who every day tried to steal my life's work and sell it to those parasitic, copycat, candy-making cads?"

The older man hesitated, unsure probably at the hostile nature of the words. "No, sir."

Wonka smiled, I didn't think so. My heir can't be this boy and have a dishonest gene in his body. "Then wonderful, welcome back. Let's get a move on, kids." He hardly waited for them and turned with a swift click of his boot toward the entrance of his factory. He moved through the puppets with ease, not worried about the still flaming pieces near him, he knew what he was doing.

"Don' you vant to know our names?" Wonka sighed mentally, already having made that decision in his mind to not address any of them by name. He continued along through the rubble and kept his cane clicking by his side as he led them through. The light disappeared behind them as the doors inched shut.

"Can't imagine how it would matter. Come quickly. Far too much to see." Wonka wondered briefly if they could hear his annoyance in his tone. I forgot the darned cue cards. He was going to have that held over his head for months to come, he knew his little Oompa-Loompas wouldn't let him live it down, not with their mischievous nature placed into the works. In any case, he pushed that to the back of his mind for later and flipped back the curtain that separated the outside world from the inside of his.

His lips twitched into a momentary smile. His favorite thing about the factory (aside from its grandness, its unrivaled beauty, its candy meadow...) was its optical illusions. The hall was long, yes, and perhaps daunting to those who didn't know any better, but it was safe and its size allowed his guests to warm up quickly. Warm up quickly! Wonka couldn't believe how much he was forgetting today, he played it off nicely by just shrugging out of his coat and tossing it to one side, "Just drop our coats anywhere."

"Mr. Wonka? Sure is toasty in here."

Willy turned his eyes away from Charlie to the senior Teavee. "What? Oh yeah, I have to keep it warm in here because my workers are used to an extremely hot climate. They just can't stand the cold."

"Who are the workers?" Charlie's curiosity asked. Wonka turned back around smiled at his little boy.

"All in good time. Now," Wonka clicked his cane in front of him and stepped forward with an easy pace. Children's legs were not meant for long strides, it was sad to think that his Oompa-Loompas had an easier time keeping up with him than what the children could manage. Then again, they did have a habit of scurrying and running everywhere. Wonka froze suddenly as a pair of thin arms wrapped around his arm and middle, hugging him to the little form of the blond.

She pulled away and brightly stated: "Mr. Wonka, I'm Violet Beauregarde."

Wonka pulled a weirded out face, his features contorting to display his unease with the contact. "Oh. I don't care." He really hoped his plan for her taught her how disgusting her chewing habit was, really, he couldn't stand to look at her because of it. And chewing with her mouth open, of all things! Doesn't her mother teach her anything? Honestly, and treating him as if he was oblivious to who they were, he knew – he wasn't one to just allow strangers into his factory without first learning of them, sans the help of the interviews.

"Well," she continued, not getting his hint, "you should care because I'm the girl that's gonna win the special prize at the end."

Wonka avoided looking at her, her chewing was so loud. "Well, you do seem confident," as if that matters, Charlie has already won, "and confidence is key."

"I'm Veruca Salt, it's very nice to meet you, sir." The brunette curtsied in front of him and Wonka had to step back, his face pulled up into a silent and disgusted snarl. What is wrong with these children? One would think they would take the hint and not bother me with names. He decided to reply, if only to expel some of his frustration on her, but his voice was still calm and his tone cleverly innocent of his annoyance.

"I always thought a verruca was a type of wart you got on the bottom of your foot." Which, in reality, it was, and the poor girl was only lucky to be at the age she was now and avoid being teased for it. Later in years, when her father was away (or dead), nothing was going to save her from the torment of adulthood for having being named after a wart, even if it was only a one letter difference. He laughed abruptly at the thought, and stepped forward to lead them again.

Only to be stopped. Again. He frowned down at the boy, the first ticket finder. "I'm Augustus Gloop. I luff your chocolate."

Wonka scanned the boy with his eyes. Goodness, he's bigger in person. He smiled vaguely, "I can see that. So do I. I never expected to have so much in common." He nearly pushed through the two who blocked his way, but stopped at the insistence of his mind. While three of the five had introduced themselves to him (however unwanted it was), his Charlie wasn't going to, the boy was probably too shy and he couldn't focus on the boy, that would display favoritism and might bring him harm if the other children realized it. He would have to addressed the other boy as well.

He allowed a sly smile to grace his lips. "You." He focused on the little Teavee, "You're Mike Teavee. You're the little devil who cracked the system."

Wonka pulled his features into an honest smile as he cooed at his little boy. "And you. Well, you're just lucky to be here, aren't you?" Charlie only stared at him, and Wonka felt sorry for not having received a better response from his child. He turned to the others, his smile now forced. "And the rest of you must be their –"

Uh-oh.

His mouth struggled to form the word, but for the life of him, it wouldn't escape past his vocal cords. After a few seconds, the senior Salt helped: "Parents?"

"Yeah," Wonka gasped, taking the lifeline, "moms and dads." His mind halted abruptly at the word dads and his eyes dropped to the floor, staring into nothing. "Dad? ... Papa?" No, no, no – not now! Wonka was quick to force his mind off those tracks and settled back into reality. He swallowed, his throat suddenly locked tight, "Okay, then. Let's move along." He turned swiftly and schooled his mask back into place. That was dangerous. Now is not the time to revert into my flashbacks. Bob would have a fit if I went into an episode now, of all times. He brought his mind around to focus on his following horde and nearly snarled when the Gloop boy taunted his Charlie.

He'll have what's coming to him soon enough. Wonka calmed at the thought, the Gloop was the first to go. A good batch of candy couldn't have any lumps, clots or glops of too much of something, that was just nasty. Best to get rid of it first and foremost, with a quick and elegant swipe of the spoon. Or in this case... All in good time.

The meadow was one of his favorite places in the factory. He loved the smell of the chocolate river, the candy grass and the sugary confection that grew from the trees. He hoped they wouldn't ruin his garden too much, it would be such a bother to try and preen it back to its former beauty. After warning them to stay calm, to keep their nerves in check, he took a moment more to enjoy the beauty of his Eden, I can't believe I'm going to let them run amok in here. Still, his Oompa-Loompas were ready, and the buzz of excitement was electrifying.

"It's beautiful." Charlie muttered in awe. The sound of his boy's voice pulled Wonka out of his thoughts and brought his attention back to the present.

"What?" Wonka replied, momentarily lost. "Oh, yeah, it's very beautiful." Good, he loves it, but now he had to hurry, his little workers were waiting for their debut and he wasn't going to keep them waiting for long now. He stepped lightly down the hill, watching his footing since the grass had been cleaned and coated to perfection. Wonka led them down the hill and close to the chocolate river before officially starting his tour.

"Every drop of the river is hot, melted chocolate of the finest quality." Clean, smooth, and light. He continued up and over the solid fudge bridge to stand before his beloved waterfall. He paused and waited until he had their attention, "The waterfall is most important. Mixes the chocolate, churns it up, makes it light and frothy." He couldn't see his boy, little Charlie was probably at the back of the group. Wonka made a mental note to repeat the information to him later.

"By the way," he might as well add the information, no harm would come of it, "no other factory in the world mixes its chocolate by waterfall, my dear children." He allowed his lips to curl into a winning smile, "And you can take that to the bank." He continued down the bridge and stood off to the side, where is that boy? His eyes fell onto Charlie and he waved the rest of them past, his gloves making an odd squeak as his hands moved. Eh, I'm going to have to powder them again. His eyes caught sight of his machinery and he quickly called their attention to it.

"People," They turned obediently and glanced in the direction of his contraption, "Those pipes suck up the chocolate," he waved vaguely, "and carry it away... all over the factory. Thousands of gallons an hour. Yeah." He smiled and nodded, not liking the disbelieving look on young Teavee's face. No imagination whatsoever, poor thing. Not that he really felt anything more than pity for the boy. Ack, why did I say pipes? It's only one, after we modified it. He stepped forward slightly and paused, bring their attention back onto him, but his eyes were focused on the little Bucket.

"Do you like my meadow?" He asked and swung his cane to indicate the grass, "Try some of my grass. Please have a blade, please do." He turned his eyes to the floor, slightly worried, but he forced that away. It's all for a good cause. It can all be sanitized later, he promised himself. "It's so delectable and so darn good-looking."

"You can eat the grass?" Charlie asked, a different and innocent disbelief on his face than that of young Teavee.

Wonka softened his tone and stepped forward to address his child, "Of course you can. Everything in this room is eatable. Even I'm eatable," but best not to encourage them, "but that is called cannibalism, my dear children, and is, in fact, frowned upon in most societies. Enjoy." He waved them off, into their own trouble, but his eyes never left Charlie as he wondered what the curious little boy would go for first in his meadow. The others dashed away, eager to get their hands on candy no one else had ever seen or tasted before. How greedy.

Wonka's eyes turned to gaze at Mr. Salt, lips tucked back into an unhappy grin. This man looks so out of place in my meadow, like a disease. His daughter in her curls and blue eyes is a better fit than he is. His smile was sincere as the man turned away to follow his wandering daughter. Wonka wandered at a leisure pace, watching his guests as they explored his garden. Teavee is so violent, he would destroy my machines before they could leave the invention room. Salt is too delicate, too greedy, she would create something and then never produce it for the outside world. Beauregarde is too competitive, she would fight me half the time we worked.

And Gloop, Wonka winced as he watched the boy stumble gracelessly through the garden, stuffing his face endlessly, Gloop would eat any and all the ingredients before they even made it to the mixing bowl! Veruca's sudden call to her father pulled Wonka out of his critiquing and he followed the others toward the little girl. He nearly smiled, the Oompa-Loompas were ready, they had already started to appear. Gloop would be making his mistake soon enough, and his porker nature would no longer be a concern to Wonka.

"There's two of them." Mrs. Beauregarde stated, standing behind Wonka as Mr. Teavee came up along his other side.

"There's more than two." The man replied, stating the obvious. His Oompa-Loompas were now showing up in clusters, working hard and (to no one else's knowledge but Wonka's) showing off what they could do.

"Where do they come from?" Mrs. Gloop asked, not having placed down her scrap of food. She almost as bad as her son.

Charlie stepped up beside Mr. Salt, eyes focused on the Oompa-Loompas, "Who are they?" Wonka grinned on the inside, that's a good boy. That was the right question to ask.

"Are they real people?" The little Teavee asked, looking up at him with a disinterested expression. Wonka hardly spared the boy a glance.

"Of course they're real people. They're Oompa-Loompas."

Mr. Salt seemed to be straining to understand. "Oompa-Loompas?" Veruca turned her eyes to him, waiting for an answer. Wonka was quick to reply, but nearly sighed in annoyance. Don't these people know anything? Must I waste half my tour to explain all this to them? His mind flashed an image of Charlie though he avoided turning his gaze to the boy. Well, better start teaching him something. Poor thing can hardly expect a proper education if even the adults don't know.

"Imported," Wonka supplied, "direct from Loompaland."

"There's no such place." Mr. Teavee interjected. Wonka closed his eyes briefly, holding his tongue and making a fast count to five.

"What?" He asked, and when the elder Teavee tried to explain himself, Wonka was quick to override him. "Well, then you'll know all about it, and know what a terrible country it is." Wonka did his best to keep his mouth shut and not snap. Honestly, this man knows nothing of the outside world. How can you expect to teach something when you haven't even experienced it for yourself? Wonka took a breath and proceeded to explain the origin of the Oompa-Loompas and their reason for being in his factory. All in all, a very interesting story, but ruined by the time and place of the occasion, it was better told by a fire with hot chocolate milk and cookies. Charlie will just have to settle for a repeated experience.

"Augustus, my child, that is not a good thing you do!" Wonka turned his eyes away from his Oompa-Loompas to the distraction caused by the young Gloop. He kept his lips from twisting into a snarl at the sight of the young boy dipping his hands into the chocolate, but he stepped forward anyway, eager to make him stop. Though I know he won't.

"Hey, little boy," Wonka called, "my chocolate must be untouched by human hands." It didn't matter, because only seconds after the words left Wonka's mouth, the boy slipped and fell over the edge into the river. Wonka closed his eyes, annoyed terribly and disgusted. Thank heavens we aren't using this batch for more than just testing. I'll have to have the Oompa-Loompas send it through the sanitation tanks again. He turned back to the scene at hand, the little boy's mother was already at his side, panicking.

Least of what he deserve for what he's done. What a waste. There was a whirring sound from overhead and Wonka turned his eyes upward. The pipe. He very nearly smiled, show time. The Oompa-Loompas were quick to start their show, and after introducing them by way of explanation to their odd behavior, Wonka stood back and enjoyed their little set up. They had practiced for it, so eager to have it done right that they couldn't leave it up to improvisation like they usually did. It was actually the first time he was going to see it to, and needless to say, he was impressed.

They must be having so much fun. Wonka smiled as he watched them finish their performance, happy at least that someone was having a jolly time at someone else's expense. Wonka clapped his hands happily, pleased by his workers' job well done. Their message was clear and funny, Wonka couldn't have loved it more and now he couldn't wait to see what else they had made up for the other three contestants.

"I do say, that all seemed rather rehearsed." Mr. Salt added after the noise had died down. Wonka nearly snapped at him, but the young Teavee was quick to add his two cents.

"Like they knew it was gonna happen." The little Teavee added.

Wonka disregarded the statement, even knowing it was true. "Oh, poppycock." And proceeded to walk away. Mrs. Gloop was soon on his heels, turning his attention toward her in her panic to find out what happened to her son.

"Where is my son?" She asked frantically, "Where does that pipe go to?"

"That pipe," He replied cheerfully, "it just so happens to lead directly to the room where I make the most delicious strawberry-flavored, chocolate-coated fudge." But his words only seemed to throw the woman into a bigger state of unthinking panic as she replied her thoughts of her son being eaten. Wonka wanted to pull a face, but merely replied, "No, I wouldn't allow it. The taste would be terrible. Can you imagine Augustus-flavored, chocolate-coated Gloop? Ew." The woman's face dropped and Wonka hurried to be rid of her and placed her into the careful hands of Alex, one of his quick Oompa-Loompas.

"Mr. Wonka?" Wonka was quick to turn away from the glaring woman to his little boy. "Why would Augustus' name already be in the Oompa-Loompa song, unless –?"

"Improvisation is a parlor trick." Wonka replied with little thought. Normally the Oompa-Loompas did improvise what they sang, but the children didn't need to know that most of this tour was planned from even before they entered through his factory's gates. "Anyone can do it." He added. This little boy, Wonka turned to the girl next to him, eager to distract them, is a bit more observant than I thought. Very brave of him to speak out first. I'll have to be more careful.

Notes: See, told you it would be longer than the first. I think some of you have already noticed that a lot of little parts were cut out. Well, one, I'm cutting through the scenes that either explain themselves or scenes that have dialogue that doesn't fit with my focus on Charlie or Wonka. Sorry if any of you feel cheated. Also, my updates aren't usually this close together, but usually I feel that you can only get a feel to a story in the second chapter. Hence, this.

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