Chapter 1

“Are you going to interview the oompa loompas?”

“I don’t think so,” Buffy Summers laughed, pulling up the blankets and tucking her best friend’s daughter in for bedtime.

“Why not, Aunt Buffy? I’ve heard that they’re really nice people. I want you to get me their autographs.”

A smile tugged on Buffy’s lips as the little girl looked up at her with wide, pleading brown eyes. “I’ll see what I can do, but if I come across any little green men, I’ll definitely hook you up,” she promised.

“They aren’t green! They have orange skin with green hair and white eyebrows!”

“Okay and just how many times have you watched that movie, Jesse?”

“Um…well…” She wiggled until she could bring her hands from under the covers. Spreading her fingers wide, she whispered to herself as she counted. “I know that I watched it three times today and then two times yesterday so…I’d say a million times!”

“A million? Wow.”

“It’s my favorite movie!”

“Well, you should get to bed now, so you can start the Wonka marathon early, don’t you think?”

“I guess,” Jesse sighed. “I am kinda sleepy. Can you send dad in when he comes home?”

“If it’s not too late.” Buffy leaned forward and kissed Jesse’s cheek before heading to the light switch. “Goodnight, honey.”

“Leave the door open.”

“Okay.”

“Aunt Buffy?”

“Yes?” Buffy said slowly, turning around from halfway down the hallway. She popped her head back into Jesse’s room and saw that the girl was sitting up in her bed. “Go to bed--.”

“I will. I just—you’re really lucky. I want to go in the chocolate factory more than anything. When you become friends with William, you’ve got to take me in there, okay?”

“Jess,” Buffy sighed.

“Please?”

“If I become friends with him, sure.”

“You promise?”

“I promise.”
***

“How was she?” Xander Harris asked as he walked through the front door. He loosened his tie, dropped his briefcase and sat next to Buffy on the living room couch.

“A little angel, like always.”

“Why do I find that hard to believe?”

“She’s a great kid…once you get past the creepy Willy Wonka worshipping. How was work?”

“Um, tiring, stressful, with a touch of downright hellish.”

“Ew, sounds like fun,” Buffy said, standing and searching the cluttered floor. “Shoe, shoe. Xand, do you see my black pump?”

“Leaving so soon? I think I saw a hint of leather under the mound of naked Barbies.”

“I still have to pack and prep for my trip.”

“I don’t know what we’ll do without you, Buff, and with it being so close to Christmas—our first without Anya…”

“I’m flying home no matter what on the twenty-fourth. Come sleet or snow, I’m not letting you go through this Christmas alone.” Buffy slipped on both of her heels and returned to her spot on the couch. “Just hang in there and once I bag the chocolate story, everything will be better. I’ll become a household name and be able to help you out with more than just free babysitting.”

“I don’t want your money,” Xander said in a tired voice. “We’ve gone through this so many times--.”

“What good will you be to Jesse if you run yourself into the ground? She barely sees you already and she needs at least one of her parents. With a little—and just a little—extra cash you can slow down all the overtime and come home at rush hour like the rest of us.”

Remote in hand, Xander flipped through the television channels. “Are you sure that you aren’t already a household name? Jeesh, channel seven is playing the ad for your interview at every single commercial break. If I didn’t know you, I’d still know that some chick named Buffy Summers is taking a tour of the Wonka factory and interviewing the reclusive heir to the candy-covered throne.”

“He’s not the heir anymore, it’s his now and it’s a big deal,” Buffy shrugged. “Adults want the chocolate of their childhood back and kids want to live out the cult movie themselves. Since the factory’s been closed for so long and with the recent change in ownership, just the slightest chance of a Wonka comeback is making everyone all starry-eyed.”

“You included?”

“If I get my hands on a Scrumdidilyumptious Bar, I’ll die. I’ll have one of those food-gasms on the spot,” Buffy said with a laugh. “I’m just as bad as the rest of them and you know it, Xander. How many times a week did we ride our bikes to the grocery store and come back with our pockets full of Gobstoppers? God, when the factory shut down, I didn’t think I’d make it through my monthly period-induced chocolate cravings—it sucked!”

“Do you think old William will cooperate with you?”

“I hope so. I really, really hope so.”

“Jesse’s had me watch some of the news specials and he’s—ah—a man of very few words.”

“That’s why I’m staying there for a whole week. I’m getting good material out of that guy; one word answers will not be tolerated.”

“Don’t get kicked off the property,” Xander said, smirking. “I can see it now: reporter beats reportee every time he answers a question wrong.”

“I won’t let him be difficult, that’s all. I have a job to do. People won’t tune in for a lot of plain yes and no answers.”

He nodded, seeing the determination in Buffy’s eyes and cleared his throat before changing the subject of their conversation. “So, we’re setting up the Christmas tree on the Saturday before you leave, do you think you’ll be able to make it?”
***

“Start on the surface level. Do that for most of the week if you have to; you need him to confide in you, even if it only happens on your last day there.”

Buffy tried not to roll her eyes as she scribbled down notes from the “advice” Cordelia Chase was providing.

“Stick to the candy questions, but only ask once if he’s going to reopen. Don’t just pop in questions about his father, transition into them very carefully and if he doesn’t respond, bring them up later.”

“What about the missing children, should I bring them up too?”

“If you want, but it seems like old news. Everyone knows that Wonka killed them. He went to jail and little Charlie Bucket turned into a loony tune trying to defend him.”

“But the story in the son’s perspective seems interesting…or not,” Buffy finished in a mumble, seeing that Cordelia was not pleased.

“Do I have to pull out the stats again? Buffy, how many times has William Bucket just stopped talking during an interview? He gets up and leaves! Why do you think this story fell into your lap? Because no one wants to mess with him!”

Buffy felt her lower lip instantly jut forward. “Hey, I got this job because I’m good at what I do! And-and he can’t leave because I’ll be in his house—I’ll follow him!”

Cordelia raised an eyebrow and flashed Buffy a doubtful look. “Do what you can and have the footage to me as soon as you get back. William’s people called over the weekend…how much experience do you have with a camera?”

“Camera? Like taking pictures or…you’ve got to be kidding.”

“He doesn’t want a crew.”

“But-but,” Buffy stumbled, imagining that she’d mess up everything. “I don’t know audio, the lighting…”

Cordelia broke out into a set of giggles. “Damn, you’re easy!”

“What?”

“You can only take one guy and it’ll be Oz.”

“‘New guy’ Oz?”

“A rookie for our little rookie reporter,” she said with a smile that seemed cruel. “Just don’t mistake him for one of those oompa loompas. I hear he’s going with florescent green hair this month.”
***

“He started a small fire in one of the vans.”

“Buffy, do you have the feeling that Cordy’s setting you up for failure?”

“I was kinda catching onto that.”

“I mean, she’s sending you out right before Christmas. The weather’s going to be nasty and the interview itself is destined to be, uh, not so great. She’s sending you with Oz the Destruct-o Boy--.”

“Stop talking,” Buffy said through clenched teeth. “I do not want to hear it.” She stood on her tiptoes and placed a red ornament near the top of the Christmas tree.

“Dad! Can we put the angel on the top yet?”

“Not yet. I’ve got to untangle the lights first.”

“Oh,” Jesse said, seeing that he was sitting on the floor and surrounded by tangled wires.

“It won’t be anytime soon, Jess. Want to help me put on the ornaments?” Buffy asked, kneeling before her with the box of knick-knacks in her arms. “Your dad’s going to sit there saying bad words until he decides to buy new strands of lights tomorrow,” she whispered. “Until then we can’t have a naked tree now, can we?”

“I’m going to untangle them,” Xander insisted.

“Whatever you say,” Buffy sang, causing Jesse to laugh.

“Oh, oh, I can play too, Rookie Girl. Where’s your sidekick Destruct-o Boy?”

“Funny. Can you give me that teddy bear, honey? What I’m going to do I don’t want to see you ever do, okay?” Once Jesse put the stuffed animal in Buffy’s hand, she hurled it at Xander’s head.
***

Chapter 2

Out of the corner of her eye, Buffy watched Oz bob his head up and down. She pulled up the heavy jacket that she was using as a blanket and listened to the jumbled noises that came from his headphones.

“This is fucking awesome,” Oz whispered, his fingers drumming a beat on the car door as they drove from the airport.

“No, it’s fucking cold.”

“What?” Oz said in a voice that was louder than usual. He leaned over and pulled one speaker from his ear. “Did you say something?”

“No,” Buffy yelled back. “It’s just much colder here than I had expected!”

Oz nodded casually and pointed to the sparse patches of snow that lined the freeway. “It’s looking like a white Christmas.”

“Oh, it’s been practically guaranteed,” the plump woman who was driving their taxi said with a laugh. “Where are you from? Didn’t you watch the weather reports before coming here?”

Buffy shifted in her seat, feeling uncomfortable with the woman staring at her through the rearview mirror. “We’re from California and about the weather…it can’t get too bad, right? We’re only here for a week and we’ll be long gone before Christmas.”

“You on vacation with your boyfriend?”

“No, no we’re on a business trip. And he, uh,” Buffy gestured to Oz and wrinkled her nose, “he’s not my boyfriend.”

“After I take you kids to the Wonka place, should I drive you to your hotel? I can wait after your sightseeing is done. Heck, since it’s the holidays I’ll even stop the clock for five minutes, how does that sound?” The driver looked from Buffy to Oz and smiled before bringing her eyes back to the road. “So many tourists come to see that closed-up dirty factory—I don’t get it.”

“We’re staying there. At the factory,” Oz said. “William’s expecting us.”

“Really? How so?”

Oz didn’t answer, leaving the conversation as quickly as he had entered it. Buffy tried not to grimace, knowing that the woman’s questions were now directed to her.

“I’m a reporter and he’s my cameraman. I’m going to interview Mr. Bucket.”

“Oh, really?” she said, a hint of surprise to her voice. “Good luck with that William. I’ve read that he’s quite the character. Very mysterious and eccentric...”

“He’s known to be a little on the stubborn side, but don’t worry, I know that I can take him,” Buffy said, causing the taxi driver to chuckle. “Um, how much longer do we have until we reach the factory?”

“About ten minutes or so depending on traffic.”

Determined to remain silent for the rest of the cab ride, Buffy kept her eyes glued on the scenery that passed them by. As she and Oz made their way closer to the city, she couldn’t help but feel anxious and a tad excited to see the infamous chocolate factory that she’d heard so much about.

“Hey, Buff,” Oz said, pulling her out of her thoughts. “Look.”

Tilting her gaze towards where he pointed his black-painted fingernail, Buffy couldn’t help but smile, seeing a narrow vertical sign that towered feet above the city. In bright red letters the word, ‘Wonka’ flickered and flashed in the early evening’s sky.

“Okay, I’ll agree with you now.”

“Awesome, huh?” Oz asked with a barely noticeable smirk.

“Oh, yeah,” she agreed as the taxi slowed in front of the factory’s cobble stone driveway.

Buffy unhooked her seatbelt and headed to the weathered fence that guarded the property. Wrapping her hands around the iron bars, she stared at the front of the buildings. “Just like a movie set, but at the same time…different.”

“Do you see a call a button?” Oz asked, standing behind her, weighed down with his luggage and surrounded by her bags.

“I don’t think so. There aren’t any security cameras that we can wave at either.” She patted her jacket, pulling a slim cell phone out of her pocket. “Lucky for us, I have our buddy William on speed dial. It’s ringing,” she announced, resting her hand on her hip. “And no one is picking up and…apparently he does not have an answering machine. Damn it.”

“It’s no big. We can wait and call him in a few minutes.”

“You’re right,” Buffy agreed. “Maybe he just stepped out. Or maybe he’s on his way to open the gate as we speak…”
***

“Nobody ever goes in, nobody ever comes out.”

“Nobody answers the phone, nobody looks out the freaking window,” Buffy sighed from her spot next to Oz. They were sitting and shivering on a suitcase under a single bare bulb that acted as the factory’s only porch light.

“Maybe you should call him again.”

“I’ve been calling that bastard non-stop.”

“We could walk somewhere…”

“Where? This place is mostly industrial and the stores that are around closed before we even stepped off the plane. When I get my hands on that William Bucket…he is not going to come face to face with a very nice Buffy, I can promise you that much.”

“I plan on staring angrily at him myself. I might even shake a disapproving finger once or twice.”

“If I can’t kill him, I’ll find a way to sue that jerk. He shouldn’t be able to treat us like this. I was promised that someone would meet us at the airport and--.”

“Ms. Summers?! It’s Buffy, right? Oh my God, I’m so sorry! I can’t believe that William didn’t let you in!”

Buffy and Oz exchanged curious glances as babbling red-haired woman came running from the factory. She was dressed in a formal gown and Buffy could tell that she was struggling to walk in her high heels.

“I had this-this thing to go to and I completely forgot about it. I never imagined that he’d leave you to freeze in the snow. Just give me a sec,” she grunted, trying to untangle the gate’s heavy chains. “Have you had anything to eat? I can fix you something.”

“Ms. Rosenberg?” Buffy asked, hoping that she remembered her name correctly. “We spoke on the phone, didn’t we?”

“Oh, yeah! I forgot to introduce myself. I’m Willow Rosenberg. I’d shake your hands, but I’m kinda busy.”

“That’s alright,” Buffy said with an amused laugh. “You were right, I’m Buffy and this is Oz, my cameraman.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Oz.”

“Likewise.”

“Okay, I’ve almost got it…there! Now you can come inside,” Willow beamed. “Once again, I’m so sorry. Did you have to wait long?”

“Just a few hours,” Buffy answered. “So, William is here and he was ignoring us. Hmm, looks like we’ll be the best of friends. When can I talk him?”

Willow grimaced, sensing Buffy’s unhappiness. “How ‘bout tomorrow after a good night’s rest?”

“He is expecting us…right?”

“Of course he is,” Willow said, laughing nervously. “So, do you guys need help taking in your bags?”
***