((Disclaimer: I do not own Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. At all. So there. ))

Wow! Two whole weeks! That is the longest delay I have ever done, the shortest being a single night between Chapters (Ch 1 and 2). I am so sorry, I am in a pre-collage Art course and am in grade 11, so a lot of homework. Though, I do try and click away on it whenever I have the healthy chance. I assure you, I will try to be a little quicker with Chapter 15. Yup, yup, yup! I have allready typed some of Chapter 15 before I send this Chapter. Hehehe. So, I dearly hope that you won't have to wait two weeks for this one.

Edit: Just changed that silly mistake...

P.S: I had computer trouble, so it was sent two days late. I am -so- terribly sorry!

Warning, this Fan Fiction may contain Movie Spoilers: If you don't like them watch the movie then come back.

Chapter Fourteen Summery – It is now the next day after the strange living-flashback and Charlie running around aimlessly around the factory, looking for the distressed Chocolatier. But, Wonka decides, even though he wants to, he won't hide, for Charlie. Now, he has do deal with AMERICA TODAY and FRIDAY EVENING LIVE responding back to his recently sent letters.

Chapter 14 - Emerald Phone Call

Charlie's eyes fluttered open and he looked up at the ceiling for a couple of moments, gathering his thoughts for the day. It was a wonder that he was even in his old room at that moment, because the day before, Charlie was sure that he would be lost forever in that factory. But there he was, safe and sound, thanks to Willy Wonka.

Oh yes, Willy Wonka, Charlie remembered. He had come to the old Bucket home for bed as well, because of Charlie's mother's insistent nagging for his health. Charlie thought that Willy deserved to have a good sleep. He had this strange feeling that Willy would have fallen asleep in the elevator if he were to make his way back to his home by himself. So, sleep in the house would at least reassure Charlie that Wonka would receive enough sleep, comfortably.

Charlie had been up to his old room to sleep, and Wonka must have been set up on the couch for the night. Though, Charlie didn't remember the journey upstairs and into his bed. He must have fallen asleep when he was drinking a mug of Hot Coca with Willy Wonka. Charlie grinned, his parents must have managed to carry him to his bed when he was still asleep.

Charlie sat up and yawned, stretching all of the tired knots out of his system. He swung his legs over the edge of his bed and made his way towards the latter. Quickly and silently, Charlie descended down and into the main level of the small house.

His mother and father were already awake, bustling around the kitchen, fixing breakfast.

"Morning, Mum," Charlie greeted his parents. "Morning, dad."

Mrs. Bucket put down the frying pan she was working with and turned around. "Good morning Charlie, dear. How did you sleep?"

Charlie grinned. "Great. Where's Mr. Wonka?"

"Charlie darling, Willy is still asleep, so I suggest you be quiet and let him finish up his rest." She then gestured towards the couch, which had Willy Wonka laying on it, fast asleep.

Charlie nodded, agreeing he didn't want to wake Wonka from his restful sleep.

It was odd for Charlie to see Willy Wonka sleeping so peacefully. Even though he had seen him sleep before, both times were very odd circumstances. But this time it was just normal, peaceful, sleep. Willy was lying on his back, a pillow lightly lifted his head and his breathing was peaceful and silent. He even looked slightly happy with himself while he slept on peacefully.

Charlie looked at his idol for a few more moments before turning around to ask his mother if he could help out with cooking preparations.

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Willy lay on the couch silently, his mind already starting to reel and wake up. It was interesting feeling, he hadn't felt so rested in such a long time. How long had been asleep? Well, as long as it wasn't past Seven o'clock, it would be O.K to rest his eyes for a little bit longer.

The night before was interesting and he recalled it with his eyes still closed, still having the appearance of deep, restful, sleep.

When Charlie and Wonka had gotten to the Bucket house from the adventure that Charlie had before, Willy had a half a mind to bolt right there and then. Why would he stay? What would be the point? He felt at that time that he would only cause more problems for the small boy. But Charlie's mother insisted that Willy would stay, and enjoy a mug of warm milk. Charlie instead suggested changing that to hot cocoa to help convince Wonka to stay longer. In the end, Willy stayed, and the night was underway.

While finishing the hot coca, Willy sat side by side with Charlie on the tattered couch in the Bucket home. Though as Wonka sipped his hot coca nervously and in silence, he wished dearly that Charlie wouldn't sit by him, especially after everything that had happened the past day. But, no matter how much he was itching to flee at that moment, he did not. He stayed to only hear the lively conversation of Charlie recounting his adventure in the factory.

The only talking Willy did himself was the quick nod of his head, in agreement, or a strange awkward laugh here and there when a question was directed his way.

Willy remembered after a half hour of talking, both he and Charlie had become very sleepy. In fact, he was sure that Charlie and himself had fallen asleep at almost the exact time, one leaning against the other, with empty mugs clenched in their sleepy fists.

After that, Wonka had no idea what happened. He assumed that Charlie was carried up to bed by his parents, and he, Willy Wonka, had somehow managed to lever himself into his usual, and strange, sleeping position.

It wasn't all that bad, he thought to himself. They didn't seem mad with the fact that it was his entirefault. And, they didn't seem mad that it definitely his fault that Charlie had gotten lost in the factory in the first place. It actually seemed that they didn't realize that it was his fault in the first place.

As Willy's mind began to wake up, a wonderful smell wafted into Wonka's nose. Now, Willy didn't usually come down to the Bucket home for breakfast, and when he did, it was rather unexpected and spontaneous and they didn't usually have the time to prepare anything special. But this time he was expected, so a wonderful breakfast could be heard and smelt, cooking in the distance.

Wonka opened his eyes, though didn't really want to, and looked at the Bucket's ceiling, though he still refused to move from his ridgid position. Then, without moving his head much, he glanced across the room to see Charlie and his parents working diligently in the kitchen.

A frown swept over Willy's face. He couldn't let them cook breakfast while he was still sleeping. That would be much too rude. He would have to help, somehow. So, Wonka sat up abruptly, which made all the blood rush to his head uncomfortably. Willy had stars flash before his eyes before he plopped, quite conveniently, back onto the couch with a rather loud 'thump'.

Upon hearing the 'thump', Charlie turned around briskly. "Mr. Wonka?"

Willy blinked a couple of times ushering the flashes of colours and darkness to stop impeding his sight. He heaved another heavy breath as he sat up to look forwards and at the boy that was now staring at him, holding a frying pan in one hand.

"Oh, morning Charlie," Willy said with a grin, and he swung his legs over the edge of the couch, so he could look at Charlie better.

"Did you have a good rest, Mr. Wonka?" Charlie asked while he passed the pan to his mother.

"Yes, Willy dear," Mrs. Bucket said, grinning at Wonka, taking the pan from Charlie. "Did you get enough sleep?"

"Oh, yes, I did," Willy said with a smile. Whether it was fake or not, Charlie couldn't even tell. "It was just a splenderiffic sleep."

"That's good dear," Mrs. Bucket said, as she turned around and tended to the crackling bacon.

"Willy-," Mr. Bucket started.

Wonka turned to Charlie's father. "Uh, yeah?"

"-Breakfast is almost ready. So, if you want, could you please help Charlie set the table? Once you've woken up a bit more, of course."

"Oh no! Don't worry, I'd love to help," Wonka said with his trademark grin. "Why wouldn't I?"

So, Willy levered himself off of the tattered couch and began to help Charlie set the table for a large and rather delicious breakfast.

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Wonka walked down the halls of the Factory quietly. He hummed to himself as he did so, as if he was trying to convince someone that he was all right. Charlie wasn't with him at that moment, because he explained to the small boy that he was too busy, and he needed to finish up some work before they could hang around the factory together later on that day; if they had the time to do that at all.

Willy sighed, and he pulled out his ring of keys as he reached the Great Glass Elevator. He looked down at them for a moment and fingered the tiny blue key. He wished he never had used it. He wished he would never have to use it again. Well, if he did have to use it, he would. Wonka pulled his mind away from the blue key and turned to his purple one. Well, at least he knew that if he was in his home, Charlie could never find or bug him. The only way that Charlie could do that was if he had a copy of that key, and Wonka knew Charlie didn't. Because he had the only purple key.

Wonka entered the Elevator and plugged the purple key into its keyhole. As the Elevator shut its doors, Willy wondered to himself whether he would be able to handle going to New York with Charlie. It would just be with Charlie, nobody else, and he would have to deal with hundreds of people, maybe more.

He had only been outside the factory a few times since he closed it down. First, he traveled the world silently to find new exotic flavors, which ended in him finding the Oompa-Loompas. Second, when he was outside to greet the guests and the five possible heirs. Willy shuddered, remembering all of the press flashing their cameras and trying to get pictures of the, assumed to be hidden, chocolates. Third, when he went outside to talk to Charlie, which led up to a meeting with his estranged dentist father, Wilber Wonka. The fourth and latest time was when he and Charlie had to find a way out of the steel room, and he needed to go to the doctor. He had to say, that was the worst of all of those experiences. Everyone was there, staring at him, taking photos, muttering behind his back.

He recalled, during the last time, that he had fainted. He was sure that he would do that again, or something worse might happen to him. He had to admit it was a problem; he hated talking to people, he always had. It took him ages to warm up to anyone and he would hate to talk to groups of people.

He still felt extremely uncomfortable talking to a group of Oompa-Loompa's at once, and sometimes, he fainted during such conversations. He remembered after such times, he felt thoroughly embarrassed, and he refused to look at an Oompa-Loompa for days afterwards.

The Elevator's door's glided open, and revealed the inside of his very blue, living room. He sighed for a moment as he took off his shoes, hat and coat, and he made his way into his green-themed study, with formal slippers slipped on his feet. Willy graciously realized, at that moment, that his ankle didn't nearly hurt him as much as it did before hand. Wonka felt that, at least, something was going right.

Wonka sat down in an emerald-green green chair, and he kicked his legs up and onto his desk. Willy gave a stretch with his left arm folded behind his head as he leaned back as deeply as he could in the chair, gazing up at the ceiling; mind riddled in thought.

Suddenly, the phone rang. Wonka sat up abruptly. That phone hadn't rung in years. OK, that was an exaggeration, but still, it had been a very long time since Willy had heard it's ringing calls.

It rang again.

Should he answer it? Willy contemplated doing so, he also thought about the option of just ignoring the fact that he had a telephone and not answer at all. But what if it was important? If it was important, they would phone back. But what if they didn't?

That's it, he couldn't stand it, he had to answer that phone.

Wonka got up from his chair and dashed across the room and picked it up.

"Hello?" a feminine voice could be heard from across the line as Willy stood there, slightly stupidly, wondering what he should do next. "Hello? Is anyone there? Hello? Mr. Wonka?"

Wonka took a couple of breaths and he responded shakily. "Uh yeah? This is Willy Wonka speaking," then he topped it off with a nervous giggle.

"Hello, Mr. Wonka, this is the company America Today, we are phoning you about your letter that you sent to our offices."

Already? Willy thought, he had only sent the letters the day before. How could they have already received them? "A-already? That's... weird... I just sent the return letter yesterday."

The other on the phone chuckled lightly. "We understand your confusion, Mr. Wonka. You see, we had an employee waiting in your town for you to send your return letter. He e-mailed us as soon as your answer hit the post office."

Willy frowned; they assumed that he would respond to them? What's more, they decided to place, in essence, a spy in the town, waiting for his response? How rude. Why couldn't they wait for a response like a normal person?

"Oh," he said with nervous, and fake, amusement. "That's neat."

Another laugh. "Yes Mr. Wonka. The other company that owns Friday Evening Live was also contacted about their letter back."

Them too? "Is that a bad thing?"

"Oh no, Mr. Wonka. America Today and Friday Evening Live usually share guests. We have decided to invite you into New York in the same time frame. You'll find it'll fit your schedule quite nicely, sir," she said kindly.

"Oh. Thank you," he said faintly, though he wasn't too sure if he was thankful or not. "It is kind of you to inform me of such details." He paused. "When will it be best that I visit you in New York?"

"Well," typing could be heard on a keyboard, "looking at America Today and Friday Evening Live's schedules, it seems that they are pretty much booked for the next week. But I'm sure that they could squeeze you in one week's time. What do you say?"

One week? That wasn't too close, but then again... it was. Maybe he would even have that gosh-darned cast off of his arm by then. One week didn't seem too bad. "Sure, one week. It works with me, and I am positive that it works for the young Bucket as well."

"Good. Let me put you on hold while I confirm the air-dates and times, sir."

"Yes ma'am," Willy said, semi-grateful that he didn't need to listen to that stranger's voice. He instead, could now listen to the calming, boring tones of the hold machine.

Well, it was settled. He would be going to New York. He couldn't stop it now. It was inevitable. There was no-way that he could get out of it now. Well, maybe, but he knew that Charlie would never allow him to run away.

"Mr. Wonka?" The woman came back onto the phone so abruptly, that it startled Willy, causing him to shout and cause himself to drop the emerald phone onto the floor.

He picked it up, coughed, and said. "Sorry about that."

"Are you all right?"

"Yes, yes, just dropped the phone," he gave another nervous laugh.

"I see. Well, it seems that everything is in order. You have been scheduled in exactly one week from now. How do you plan to arrive here? We could arra-"

Willy interrupted. "No, no, it's fine. I can get there myself. I will be there. What time?"

"Would eight o'clock in the morning be too early? Because that is the only time we can get a good booking for a hotel."

Hotel? Good grief. He forgot that he would have to stay there for a while. "For how long? I mean, how long do I need to stay in New York?"

"Well," more clicking in the background,"America Today wants you first a couple of days after you arrive, and Friday Evening Live wants you much later. So, around two weeks, maybe more. Is that alright, Mr. Wonka?"

He hesitated. "Yes. It's fine. Fine by me."

Two Weeks? Two weeks or more? How was Willy going to survive in the bustling city of New York with just Charlie by his side? How was he going to manage consciousness during the whole of the trip? He knew that he'd faint at least once. And that, would really freak out Charlie, and make him worry more than he really needed to.

"Mr. Wonka? Mr. Wonka? Are you there? You didn't answer my question."

Oh, he was thinking so hard that he didn't really pay attention to the fact that he was still talking on the phone, and he happened to be talking to the person who was planning the next few days of torture for himself and his smaller companion.

"Uh, sorry," a nervous laugh, "What was that?"

A chuckle in return. Gosh, Willy wished she would stop doing that sickening laugh. "Mr. Wonka, I asked if it was all right if we could only book you a single bedroom hotel. The upside is, is that it has a living room, a study room (the company thought you'd appreciate that), a large bathroom with a shower and a bath, and a small kitchen."

Wonka frowned; one bedroom? There was Charlie, and himself. They needed two bedrooms. "Uh, I can't exactly do that."

"Why not sir?"

"You see, if you haven't realized, I have Charlie with me, and we need a bed each," Wonka said, slightly annoyed with the whole matter. How could they have forgotten about little Charlie?

"Sir, we understand that Young Charlie is going and-"

"-And? Then why wasn't he given a room to sleep in? Why wasn't he accounted for?" Wonka said, with a much harsher tone.

"We tried to book one with two rooms, but, they are all out for the whole two weeks that you and the young Bucket are visiting. We were hoping that you could compensate and somehow arrange the sleeping arrangements yourself."

"Fine. I understand," Willy said with frustration. He didn't want to argue with the stranger on the other line, he'd just sort it out himself.

"Good, sir," she paused for a moment, "Oh, we have one more thing to sort out with you."

"What is it?" Why did she have to keep on talking? Why couldn't she just be quiet and leave him alone? All he wanted to do was hang up and deal with his day. But she kept on talking.

"Sir, we are offering to pay for your trip to and from New York. We are wondering if you don't mind travelling by commercial flight oppose to personal."

Well, if they offered to pay and arrange the trip to New York, that could relive some stress on his hands.

"What's the difference?"

"Commercial is a plane with other passengers on the flight-" Wonka shuddered. Ew. Other people. "- and personal is usual just you on a small personal plane."

Before Wonka could say a single thing, she continued, "We suggest commercial because they are safer flights than the personal. These planes are easier to keep track of, and you wouldn't have to book a terminal in order to fly in. But it's your choice Mr. Wonka."

Willy thought for a moment; what would he choose? The commercial which was packed with... people but it was safer. Or, personal, which was not as safe, but... no people.

"Which is it, Mr. Wonka?"

"Uh... Commercial. Yes, I would like to book two seats on a commercial flight for two weeks from now. Umm... one has to be a window seat." Willy decided he could not risk Charlie's, or his own, safety because of his silly fears. "Please be sure that we get a set of seats that are pretty private. Ya'know, not a lot of people?" At least, he could try to get away from everyone.

"We can do that for you sir. There will be no problem."

A pause.

"That's it?"

"Yes, should we phone you back with the exact times, place and date?"

Wonka hesitated. Oh... yes... that. He guessed he couldn't de-connect that line just yet. "Uh, yeah. But make it soon. I don't want to wait much longer. I'll give you three days, kay? And no silly phone calls that have nothing to do with the arrangements, kay?"

"Yes, yes, Mr. Wonka. Don't worry; no other employees of this company or the other have your phone number. So, you don't have to worry at all."

"Good."

"Well, bye then."

"Kay, bye," Willy thrust down the phone quickly and it hung up with a clatter.

Wonka heaved a sigh and leaned himself against the set of shelves that the phone resided on. He put his hand on his head and rubbed his temple idly. He hoped that he wouldn't have to do that again. But, he knew that he would; they were phoning back, so he had to. But, after that, he wouldn't have to talk to them again.

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Willy had been up in his personal quarters for around three hours, and he supposed that he should go down and tell Charlie the current arrangements. Wonka backed his chair away from the table and away from all of the paperwork that took over nearly his entire desk. Willy leaned back deeply in his chair and gazed at the clock that was across the room. One o'clock. It wasn't too late; he supposed Charlie was all finished up with lunch.

Wonka stood up, picked up his cane, and walked out of the room. He stopped and rubbed his chin for a moment, looking over the vast amount of coats that he could pick from. At last, he picked a nice Twilight coat. The coat itself was rather fabulous in colour; it blended from purple to orange, to yellow, to blue in perfect gradient.

Willy grinned as he put it on, and wondered why he didn't wear this particular coat more often. He took his top hat and placed it gingerly on his head, and he made sure that each shoe was on the correct foot, even though he'd never screw up like that.

Okay, Willy thought, metal hitting himself. Stop delaying. You need to get this all over with, kay? He felt that he had a point; he had been delaying telling Charlie for three hours in total, and he knew that if he didn't get his butt in gear, he'd be delaying for another three hours or more.

Wonka sighed and walked into the elevator, pressing, "Chocolate Waterfall," which had now become a very accustomed button for Willy to press. He hummed his way down, across, and sideways to the Chocolate Waterfall.

The moment the Elevator slid into place and opened up, Charlie popped up in front of Wonka, startling him greatly and caused him to recoil backwards, clutching onto his top hat.

Charlie, looking equally startled, said, "Oh, hello, Mr. Wonka."

"H-hello Charlie," Wonka said with a nervous laugh attached. "What are you doing here... at this exact moment?"

"I was going to take a look around the factory."

Willy's features hardened. "Charlie..." he said with a light scolding tone. "What just happened yesterday? Don't you remember? You got lost. I don't think the day after is an exactly great day to go exploring again."

Charlie grinned sheepishly with his hands behind his back. "I know, I was just... bored. Grandpa Joe and Grandma Georgina are asleep; Grandpa George and Grandma Josephine are too. Mum and Dad are busy, and so were you... I had nothing to do. So, I decided to go exploring."

Willy frowned for a moment. Bored? In his factory? Well, he thought it was a matter of being alone, not boredom. Maybe Charlie would be happy to hear that he would be spending two weeks with Willy Wonka, and that was going to happen in a week or so.

"I see. Uh, Charlie, I have something to tell you, about the trip to -er- New York."

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Willy had explained to Charlie about the current arrangements, and now the only thing the pair had to do was wait for the second phone call. At least, they deducted that the flight to New York would be on the twenty-second and around four or five o'clock in the morning.

And now, they had to set up the factory for a two-week period, the first in ten years, without Willy Wonka watching it over. It would be up to an army of Oompa-Loompas and Mr. Bucket to make sure the factory was kept up and running and still making chocolate.

Wonka and Charlie walked down a hall, both having very important business to tend to. It just so happened that every sixteenth of the month Wonka had a rigorous checkup of the factory, which usually took a couple of days to complete. Now, it would surly take a week because of the leaving arrangements of Charlie and Wonka. They had to make sure that every Oompa-Loompa understood what was going to happen, and that every Oompa-Loompa was knew exactly what to do and how to keep everything under control for the weeks up to come.

"Okay, Charlie, I usually start with the most important thing first," Wonka said suddenly, breaking the silence.

"The chocolate, Mr. Wonka?" Charlie said, looking up towards Willy.

Willy laughed. "No, but that is important, don't get me wrong. You know what's most important? The Oompa-Loompas."

"Oh, that's right Mr. Wonka! We have to tell the Oompa-Loompa's what's going to happen, right?"

Willy grinned as he looked down at Charlie. "That's exactly right, Charlie. Excellent."

Wonka turned away and gulped deeply. He loved the Oompa-Loompas, and he didn't mind talking to one, or even ten, for a short amount of time, but fifty or more, one hundred? No, he had a lot of trouble doing that. So much trouble, that he hadn't talked to one hundred Oompa-Loompas at once for a long time.

Well, he knew that he had to at some point in time; it was inevitable. There was no way to stop it, only to delay it. So, now he was going to face over one hundred Oompa-Loompa's: over half the entire Oompa-Loompa population. That was a lot of Oompa-Loompas. At least Charlie would be there with him. Maybe he could handle it with Charlie there by his side.

Wonka and Charlie stopped at a door which had "Oompa-Land" written over the top of it.

"Oompa-Land?"

"Yeah," Willy said, "Oompa-Land. You see, I made an exact copy of Loompa-Land for my Oompa-Loompa's. But, since Loompa-Land was fully of nasty things like Whangdoodles, and what I made wasn't, I called it Oompa-Land," Willy explained. "It also just so happens that a lot of my cacao beans are grown here too, especially for the Oompa-Loompas."

Wow, thought Charlie, Mr. Wonka had gone through a lot of trouble to make sure that the Oompa-Loompas feel comfortable in his factory.

"Well," started Willy with some apprehension. He placed his hand on the door, ready to open it. "Here we go."

Authors Thoughts – This Chapter was fairly interesting for me to write. It was fun, but exhausting, not in a bad way though. This Chapter is really setting up for the next Chapter or so when Wonka and Charlie finally go to New York. I do hope you enjoy it.

Wonka-Land Info –

The Phone System – How does it work? Well, Wonka always gets a different phone number. He constantly changes it. The reason: for things just like what it happening. He only wants to use it once or twice and he doesn't wasn't anyone else bothering him about it. He really hates talking to people and a phone is just another way for people to talk to him. He only uses it when necessary. So, after he disconnects the line, they won't be able to contact him at that number again.

Charlie's Hieght – Hmm. Has Charlie grown taller? No, he has not. In fact, Charlie is as tall as he'll ever be for awhile. Well, Willy is just short, even shorter without his shoes and hat, and Charlie reaches to his shoulder. Poor Willy, he's just short.

Oompa-Land – Yup and exact, and much kinder, replica of the Oompa-Loompa's home, Loompa-Land. But, Wonka already has explained that, now hasn't he?

Wonka's Unusually Bright and Blendy Coat? - Umm... yeah. It's -er- bright, and blendy? I dunno, but I picture it rather pretty-like. So, when I get the change to get a non-sucky computer, mabye I'll draw and show you a picture of what I think it looks like. Oh, I picture him wearing pine-green leather/rubber gloves with it.

Chapter Fifteen Preview – First he has to talk to Oompa-Loompa's, and then he's going to get the fill arrangements about the flight plan. It is pure madness as the days go buy as Willy and Charlie prepare to at last go to their feared destination, New York.

About the Reviews – Brillant Idiot? Just to let you know… she's a family member! -randomly huggles her- Oh, and thankyou for all of your reviews! I have recived over 200 now, and my jaw just drops! Thankyou oh so much!

My Beta-Reader – Where would I be without Cadenza Cavatina? (previously Quill in hand). I thank her so much!

Important Note: Please Review. I want to know if any of you liked it. Plus, I may feel like updating faster if I know that people actually read what I write. (No flames... I'll only feed them to Gloop, although, I don't think even he likes flames. I think I'll dip them into Chocolate first.).