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My Candyman	By : LoonyLucifer Category: A through F > Charlie and the Chocolate Factory Views: 13233 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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My Candyman

Rating: NC-17
Author: Lucifer
Disclaimer: I am in no way affiliated with the people who hold rights to CatCF. I have no right to do what i do, but i do it anyway.
Notes: This sort of rewrites the ending of the first book and goes from there. I’m overlooking the second book Charlie and the Great Glass Elevator, because well, I’ve restarted this fic like three times now (since I’ve finished the first book) and I didn’t start the second until after I’d gotten a ways into this. My apologies to anyone who thought it should be mentioned in here.
Additional Warning: Charlie is still around ten years old, he’s going to be portrayed in sexual situations with Mr. Wonka. :P
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“Oh my love, I know you are my Candyman. And oh my love, your word is my command.” -- Lollipop (Candyman) // Aqua
Introduction
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“It is time we left these silly children. I have something very important to talk to you about, Charlie.”
Mr. Wonka began to lead Charlie away from his grandfather, gently resting his hand against the middle of Charlie’s back to urge him forward. Charlie glanced up at Mr. Wonka, then back at Grandpa Joe, wondering what he was doing. Wonka flashed one of those care-free, white-toothed smiles in Grandpa Joe’s direction as he steered Charlie around himself, pausing to face the old man with his shoulders squared forward though in a relaxed, thrown back sort of posture.
“We will only be a moment,” he said brightly, “I have a gift of sorts for you and Charlie, and your entire family!” His eyes twinkled with delight and threw his arms out over his head in one wild gesture. It made Charlie happy all over to see a man so pleased with giving out gifts. “But first, of course, I must have Charlie’s decision on the matter. Oh and what a surprise this will be!” He began to grow excited and anxious all at once. Mr. Wonka’s eyes never stopped glittering jovially as he spoke. For a second, Charlie was so delighted that he could actually imagine they really were glittering, just like magic. But in a blink of an eye the thought was gone.
Grandpa Joe smiled just as wide back at them and told them he’d wait there without a worry. Besides, he wanted to taste the sugar trees, which he had admittedly been eyeing for a good fifteen minutes or so. He couldn’t wait to hear the good news, and with a wave he bid them goodbye as Mr. Wonka lead Charlie into the elevator. Wonka pressed a button and Charlie had to jump out of his daze quickly to latch his arms around the chocolatier’s waist before he was thrown to the floor again. He felt a little awkward about it, being this close to Mr. Wonka that is. After all, he didn’t hug him on a regular basis and had only known him for just a short while…and still referred to him as Mr. Wonka, formality and all. But then again, there was nothing else for him to do, so he gave a rather sheepish smile up at the tall man, who smiled back with that twinkle in his eye, as they hurdled through the elevator shaft.
It seemed to take forever to get where they were going, but perhaps this was only due to Charlie’s nervousness. Charlie hadn’t seen which button Mr. Wonka pushed, and couldn’t find one with its little red light lit up to tell him. He thought it was one of the ones on the ceiling, but couldn’t quite remember if when they started out Mr. Wonka had raised his hand up there to push a button or simply grasp hold of the rail. He’d have liked to start a conversation (the nervousness was getting to him) but besides the elevator being only a bit too loud for that, he couldn’t think of what to say. Of course “Where are we going?” kept popping into his head, but he had a feeling he wouldn’t be given an answer until they arrived.
When they finally did stop, at a sudden halt which nearly made Charlie lose his grip, the doors swung open to a rather dimly lit hall. He couldn’t tell if they’d gone up or down or east or west, or somewhere in between, but he got the feeling that this place lay just on the edge of the great factory, if only for the time it had taken them to get there. Mr. Wonka’s arm came down around him and he lead them into the hall. The man was now humming a sort of whimsical tune which made Charlie feel more at home. It was light and springy, and Charlie swore he had heard it in a movie somewhere but couldn’t put his finger on it. He always remembered things from movies; he rarely ever got to see them. He thought he remembered something about a woman in a white dress, a nurse’s outfit, and a patch over one eye, walking down a hallway whistling it. [1] Yes, that’s the right image. As he was pondering over this however, Mr. Wonka had brought them to the end of the small hallway. It was rather short actually, with only three or four doors in its length, all tall and ornate looking. There was a red one, a deep purple one, a green one…but all were darkly colored. They stopped before the last one and Wonka unwound his arm from the boy’s shoulders, though kept his hand resting at his back, as though to prevent Charlie from jumping away from whatever lie beyond this door.
“I’ve already shown you the heart of the factory, Charlie,” Wonka said with the tiniest of smiles, just enough to lighten the boy’s anxiety. “Now, let me show you its brain,” he continued, opening the door and stepping inside. Charlie followed close at Wonka’s side. His eyes widened curiously upon entering the room. It was like…some kind of astronomy tower and old fashioned living room in one. The idea of it reminding him of an astronomy tower was absurd however, as they were still underground and all, unless the elevator had managed to take them upwards without him realizing it. There were maps and globes and spheres and charts scattered all about the place. Giant golden and silver telescopes rested in their own corners of the room as well as computer monitors and other sorts of gadgets that Charlie did not know the name nor use for. The room’s walls were made of stone, and it had a tall ceiling with arced stone pillars running up its sides and coming together in a point at the very top. Looking upwards reminded Charlie of being in a cathedral. The ceiling had been painted a deep blue with brilliant sparkling silver speckles in it, matching the night sky. Charlie found that as he moved, the silver speckle stars glittered and faded as new ones alit. It was quite bewitching; almost like the real thing.
“Are we still--” Charlie began.
“Underground?” Wonka interjected, stepping forward and around the boy from where he had been standing behind him, watching as he looked around the room in awe. “Why yes, my dear Charlie, we are still very much underground.” He sat down in an old looking plush chair and typed into a keyboard on the desk nearby. The wall above them suddenly lit up in a large image of Wonka’s factory, seen from the outside. It was like a giant overhead through Charlie couldn’t see a projector. The image moved around the factory, showing it from every angle. Wonka tapped a few more keys and the stone walls all around the room lit with other images of the factory, dousing everything in sight with brilliant colors. Charlie picked out the wild chocolate river, the TV room, the giant gum machine, the chocolate room, and other places he hadn’t yet seen. There was an image of a great crystallized mountain of some sort that glittered when the light shown on it, there was a jungle of licorice rope, a room full of rainbow colored candy, hallways, corridors, and paths of every color. The images kept changing as Charlie tried to look at them all at once.
He didn’t see Mr. Wonka step from the chair and kneel down in front of him until he began to speak. They were roughly the same height now, with Charlie only a bit taller on his feet.
“So Charlie,” he began, “What do you think of my chocolate factory?”
Charlie didn’t have to hesitate. “It’s the most wonderful place in the world, sir,” he replied, beaming at the man before him. Wonka gave a small but earnest smile in return. It looked like the corners of his mouth wanted to rise higher than he was allowing them. Charlie was glad, for this meant he was more pleased than he was letting on.
“What would you think, Charlie, if all this could be yours?” he asked, placing his hands on the cane in front of him and using it to support himself as he leaned towards the small boy.
Charlie’s eyes widened. “Wha--?” was all he could make out.
Mr. Wonka moved to Charlie’s side, wrapping an arm around him and using the other to gesture to the moving pictures all around them. “All this I could give to you when you’re old enough,” he said. Charlie could do nothing but stand in shock. “If…you came here to stay with me….” Mr. Wonka’s voice lowered to something just above a whisper, “I could give you anything you wanted, anything you could ever dream of .” Slowly Mr. Wonka had been leaning in ever so closer to the boy, as if they were sharing some very great secret that enemy spies could intercept at any moment if they’d been hiding and listening in this very room. “I can show you things you’ve never dreamed of before,” he went on.
He was so close that Charlie could now feel his breath against his neck when he spoke. It was warm and it tickled his skin with every word, sending a shiver down his spine. It made him a slight bit uncomfortable, but only just, because he liked the presence of this strange man. It was comforting. The way he sprung about merrily all day, seemingly a kid himself, overcome with wonder at times, fascinated Charlie. Since they had entered this room, Wonka’s playful side had toned down a bit and he seemed just a little more mysterious…just a little more intimate with Charlie. Charlie couldn’t figure out what to make of it. It was good because it made him feel closer to the odd man, made him feel welcomed, wanted…. But he was also still a little anxious. He felt as though this calmer version of Wonka could see right through him with those twinkling eyes of his.
“Would you like that, Charlie?” Mr. Wonka’s hand swept through his hair affectionately. Charlie felt he should lean into it and pull away at the same time.
“I…I….” He found he suddenly couldn’t get the words out. All the things Mr. Wonka was promising him right now were beyond imagination. The entire factory…. He could stay here for the rest of his life, where Mr. Wonka would make his most unimaginable dreams come true. “Are you serious?” was what he finally managed.
Wonka smiled as though that were all the answer he needed. “I am very serious,” he replied, “but only if you stay with me and do everything I say,” he added with a smile. And then he did something Charlie never expected him to do. He leaned in all those few inches closer that remained between he and the boy, and, ever so lightly, pressed his lips to Charlie’s neck. The boy froze. Mr. Wonka let his mouth linger there for a moment, flicking his tongue out and tasting the skin before he pulled away. Charlie could feel his pulse racing as the man sat back to where he’d previously been with a warm, expectant look on his face. He didn’t seem to be the slightest bit uncomfortable at all. “Well…?” he asked finally, in a warm tone, but one that said his offer might imply more than just the chocolate factory.
Now Charlie was quite stunned. Just a minute ago, he was stunned about the offer, but in somewhat of a different manner. He turned the situation over in his head for a few moments. Mr. Wonka was offering him everything his heart desired, a place for he and his family to live, an endless supply of delicious food, the entire factory, all his dreams. The only matter that threw Charlie off was that thing he did with his mouth just a second ago. It….was like a kiss, but not one that Charlie had ever been given before. He’d been kissed on the forehead and cheeks, and once on the hand, but that was in a play, where he was a king (Charlie, who was so poor, liked pretending to be a king very much), and his hand wasn’t really what was being kissed, but the ring on it instead. Other than that he’d only been kissed by his parents and grandparents. It felt strange. Then again, Mr. Wonka was strange, wasn’t he? And Charlie trusted him. So, in the end he decided to ignore it. He let himself grin from ear to ear with joy and accept. “I’d love it,” he replied and jumped up in the air as he did so, and then wrapped his arms around the famous chocolateir in gratitude. “I don’t know how I could ever thank you,” he added and Mr. Wonka only smiled back in response.
He took Charlie back down to see his grandfather and inform him of the good news. Of course, they went to collect the rest of the family immediately and tell them of the good news as well, by way of the magical flying elevator which Wonka crashed through the roof of the factory and house, frightening everybody half to death.
Once they were back inside the factory, and everybody had calmed down about fearing for their lives, they were invited on a tour of it themselves with Charlie, Grandpa Joe, and a very bubbly Mr. Wonka leading the way. Mr. and Mrs. Bucket and all the grandparents were beside themselves with gratitude towards Mr. Wonka, thanking him over and over again, offering to help out with what little they had for anything at all the man should ever desire. Mr. Wonka in return said it wouldn’t be necessary at all, only that he should be let to teach Charlie all the ways of becoming a chocolateir, which everybody thought the most grand of all his gifts to the family.
By the time they were through touring for the day Mr. Wonka thought things were going most splendidly indeed.
~*~
TBC.
[1] The tune is the one Elle Driver whistles in Kill Bill as she’s on her way to assassinate The Bride. :3 Lovely movies Charlie watches, doesn’t he?
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My Candyman