A/N: If you recognize it from the Wonka community, I don't own it.  I'd like to thank my beta-reader.

Let me tell you, I'm really into this story. It's to the point where I occasionally find myself speaking in a southern accent. I also realized that, since I'm writing a fanfic for a live-action movie, I'll have to change the character's outfits, except for Willy Wonka's because he's peculiar enough to wear the same outfit. Just gives me an excuse to keep playing doll maker games. I also found a website that tells you what your favorite color says about you, which will be very helpful.

                                    * * *

"I don't know what I was thinking," Maria said, all shaken up, and soaked from the rain, as she and Scarlett entered the Cloak Room. "Letting you drive us over here. I must have lost my mind."

"So I go a little fast," Scarlett said, taking her pink raincoat off to reveal a white blouse, and a brown, flowing skirt. "We're still alive."

"Barely," Maria muttered, as she took her orange raincoat off to reveal a maroon dress, cut just above her knees, with short, poofy sleeves. "Sweetie, you may act like a polite little Southern Belle most of the time, but behind the wheel, you're a maniac."

"Says the girl who flirted with the traffic-ticket officer," Scarlett said, as she put her raincoat on one of the hangers that resembled a hand, and watched it grab her coat.

"Hon, it was either that, or let you get a ticket," Maria said, while Scarlett stared at the hooks. "And I don't remember you trying to stop me."

"Did you see that?" Scarlett asked.

"See what?" Maria said, as she put her raincoat on the hangar, and the hand grabbed it.

"That," Scarlett said, astonished. She then put her pink cloche hat on one of the hangars to watch it do the same.

"Yeah, that is weird," Maria said absentmindedly, as she put her matching orange cloche hat on another hangar.

"That's all you can say?" Scarlett said, examining the hangars.

"What else is there?"

"We're in the waiting room, and the hangars are hands that can grab your clothes," Scarlett said, fascinated. "It doesn't make you wonder about what other surprises this factory has in store?"

Maria shrugged. "Honey, I really don't care."

"Glad to see you find my hangars so fascinating, Miss Rivera," said a suave voice from behind Scarlett.

Scarlett turned around to see Mr. Wonka, and smiled nervously, while brushing her hair back with her fingers.

Maria took one glance at Mr. Wonka, and then at Scarlett with a look that said, "Does he seriously dress like that?"

Scarlett nodded her head at Maria in response.

"Hello, Mr. Wonka," Scarlett said, unsure of what else to say. Then she remembered what her mother taught her, and swept her right foot behind her left, and bent forward, while holding the hem of her skirt up an inch or two with her right hand.

Maria rolled her eyes at the old fashioned curtsey.

"You must be Miss Gonzalez," Mr. Wonka said, holding out his hand for Maria to shake, which she did.

"Yeah, we spoke over the phone, remember?" Maria said, still trying to get over Mr. Wonka's clothes.

"You'll forgive me for putting off your interview, dear lady, but I need to show Miss Rivera to the Art Department," Mr. Wonka told her, giving Maria a small glance, and turning his attention to Scarlett

"Sure, go ahead," Maria said, as she took a seat and retrieved a magazine from the table.

"Right this way, my lady," Mr. Wonka said, as he led Scarlett to a wooden door and opened it to reveal a long pink corridor.

Scarlett anxiously followed him through the bright pink corridor. With every twist and turn, the factory felt like a labyrinth.

"Are you sure you know where you're going?" Scarlett asked, and then regretted it when Mr. Wonka looked back at her in disbelief, causing her to nervously laugh. "Of course you do. It is your Factory."

"So, you decided to wear high heels," Mr. Wonka said, noticing her shoes. "You seem to balance much better in them today, than you did yesterday."

"Y'all remembered?" Scarlett said anxiously, as she felt herself becoming less balanced. "Now I'm back to having problems."

Scarlett just laughed it off, as Mr. Wonka gave her a charming smile and stopped in front of a large wooden door.

"Miss Rivera, when you were examining the coat hangers, you wondered what other surprises my Factory had in store," Mr. Wonka told her.

"Oh, you heard that," Scarlett said, turning bright red. "Of course you did. You saw me looking at them. So, I take it there's one big surprise behind this door?"

"What's beyond this door must be believed to be seen," Mr. Wonka said, as he opened the door to reveal a room that Scarlett could never imagine in her wildest dreams.

With lollipop trees, giant candy canes, and even bushes with tea cups, it was the most beautiful and bizarre room Scarlett ever saw. There was even a waterfall that poured into a river made of a dark brown substance, with men taking water from it and adding cream and sugar, or just sugar, to the dirty looking water. They looked happy to work in the factory of the eccentric chocolatier, which was good, because with Mr. Wonka's factory huge, and the town small, Mr. Wonka employed a good portion of the town's population. One of them, a skinny and pale freckled red-head, put a cigarette in his mouth and was about to light it until Mr. Wonka spoke up.

"Mr. Miller, what have I said about smoking in the factory?"

"Do it in the hallway, not in The Chocolate Room," Mr. Miller answered. "Sorry, Mr. Wonka."

"Especially not when you're near the chocolate river," Mr. Wonka continued. "Could you imagine if you got cigarette ashes in my chocolate?"

So that's what that water was. To Scarlett, it actually made sense.

"Right, of course, Mr. Wonka," the man said, as he left the room

"Places where you ain't allowed to smoke?" Scarlett asked, closing her eyes and inhaling the sweet aroma of candy. "It's a peculiar concept, but I can see why you wouldn't allow it in here."

"I take it you're quite impressed with this room, Miss Rivera," Mr. Wonka told her.

"I feel like I'm in Wonderland," Scarlett answered, in awe.

                                     * * *

Maria flipped through an old copy of Vogue. Mr. Wonka had a decent magazine collection, for a weird guy. On the table next to the chair were fashion magazines, sports magazines, and some short story magazines. She even recognized a science fiction/fantasy magazine that Scarlett subscribed to, though it really wasn't Maria's thing. The only problem with Mr. Wonka's collection was that it was outdated. The issue of Vogue in Maria's hands was from 1950. Then again, considering Mr. Wonka's taste in fashion, it was amazing that the issue was from this decade.

"Hello, Beautiful," an arrogant voice said.

Maria looked up from her magazine to see that the voice belonged to a well-dressed man, with a young, pretty-boy face, complete with an arrogant smirk, and sandy brown hair, groomed back from his forehead, showing a very noticeable widow's peak. He was of average height, with an athletic build, and held a lit cigarette in his mouth.

"The name's Maria," she told him disdainfully.

The man either didn't notice her tone, or pretended not to, because he still had that same irritating smirk as he took a long drag from his white stick.

"I'm Martin," he said, in a tone that suggested that people hung on his every word. "I make this Factory what it is."

"I thought I already met Willy Wonka," Maria said absentmindedly, as she held her hand out and examined her manicured fingernails covered in the same red polish as her lipstick.

"You're right, I'm not him, but I'm the reason his chocolate sells so well," Martin continued, in that same arrogant voice as before. He took the seat next to her. "Ask Wonka himself, and he'll tell you: 'If it weren't for Martin, I'd still be a poor man selling candy on the street.'"

Maria scooted as far away from the guy as she could. "How nice for you," she told him sardonically.

"Nice for you too, Beautiful," he told her with a smile. "You get to have dinner with the top salesman of Wonka Industries."

"Sorry, hon. I don't date married men," Maria told him with a hint of anger, as she indicated the wedding ring on his finger.

"What my wife doesn't know won't hurt her," Martin told her, putting his hand on her leg.

"My answer's still no," Maria said, taking his hand off her leg and glaring at him. What had she done to deserve this? And where was Scarlett? Or better yet, Wonka? The man better get back here soon, and call off his dog.

                                      * * *

The Chocolate Room properly appreciated, Mr. Wonka had returned with Scarlett to the halls, passing room after room.

"Cows that give chocolate milk?" Scarlett said, reading a sign on one of the doors in the corridor. "It sounds impossible."

"Once you eliminate the impossible, whatever remains, no matter how improbable, must be the truth," Mr. Wonka said.

"Sherlock Holmes," Scarlett said in recognition.

"Have you read that, or are you pretending you have?"

Scarlett ran her hand over her hair with a nervous laugh. "That, I've actually read."

"Really?" Mr. Wonka said, with a challenging smile, while leaning on his cane. "Sherlock Holmes' trademark outfit is his Inverness cape and deerstalker hat."

Scarlett laughed. "That's a common misconception," she said, putting her hand on her hip. "He only wore the deerstalker in the country. In town, in the evenings, he wore a top hat ... like yours."

With a smile, Mr. Wonka put a hand to his hat, before continuing the inquisition. "What was Watson's profession before he met Holmes?"

"Army surgeon, in Afghanistan. Sherlock Holmes figured that out when he shook his hand," Scarlett said, remembering how A Study in Scarlet began.

"Isn't Watson just a fat man who just tagged along with Holmes and got in the way?" Mr. Wonka asked.

"No, Watson was of average intelligence, and a ladies man, who might have been married as many as three times," Scarlett said, pleased to show off her knowledge of the books. She always found Sherlock Holmes to be the sexier of the two, but Mr. Wonka didn't need to know that.

Mr. Wonka tipped his hat to her. "Congratulations, Miss Rivera, you passed."

"Thank you," Scarlett said, feeling a blush on her cheeks. "Would it be all right if I saw the cows?"

"Another time," Mr. Wonka told her, as they continued down the corridor, passing rooms such as "Hot Ice Cream for Cold Days."

"For people who crave ice cream on cold days," Mr. Wonka explained. "I also have 'Hot Ice Cubes for Hot Drinks.'"

Then they passed a room whose sign said: "Square Candies That Look Round."

"Ah yes, my 'Round Candies that Look Square,'" Mr. Wonka said proudly. "No, strike that, reverse it."

"What do you mean, 'they look round?'" Scarlett asked, curiosity overtaking her.

"See for yourself, dear lady," Mr. Wonka said, gesturing to the glass above the door.

Scarlett looked through the glass to see small white sugar cubes, with a pink smiley face, and eyeballs drawn on every single one.

"They're adorable!" Scarlett cooed. "But, if you don't mind me saying, they don't really look round."

Scarlett felt a presence behind her as Mr. Wonka whispered into her ear. "Watch." Then he knocked on the door. Scarlett could feel his warm breath on her skin. The candies eyeballs looked around, and Scarlett giggled.

"Oh, square candies that look round," Scarlett said. "That's so cute!"

"Glad you think so," Mr. Wonka said, as Scarlett turned around, blushing when she realized just how close she was to Mr. Wonka. He took his hand off the door, backing away while maintaining his cool.

Once again, Scarlett followed him down the corridor, until they finally arrived at the Art Room.

"Now, dear lady, we've reached the final stop on our tour," Mr. Wonka said, with another charming smile. He took off his hat, and held it to his chest, but he didn't open the door.

"Thank you, Mr. Wonka," Scarlett said, and then added one more thing before she could stop herself. "You're very different from what I thought."

"Different in what way?" Mr. Wonka asked.

Scarlett gulped. Did she really have to say that out loud? "Just different," she told him nervously.

"In what way?" Mr. Wonka repeated, his bright blue eyes gazing into her dull brown ones.

"Well..." Scarlett began hesitantly. "Yesterday, you were a little rude."

"Ah, yes," Mr. Wonka said. "I'm terribly sorry about that, dear lady, but you caught me on a bad day."

Scarlett breathed a sigh of relief. "I guess now, I caught you on a good day."

"That you have, dear lady, that you have," Mr. Wonka said, as he turned to leave.

"Mr. Wonka," Scarlett said.

"Yes?"

"I-I was just wondering, if I was going to get my sketchbook back," Scarlett asked.

"You'll have that by the end of the day, Miss Rivera," Mr. Wonka said, and then he left.

Scarlett retrieved a cigarette from her purse and took one long puff from it as she stared at the door. Well, here goes nothing, Scarlett thought and then opened it.

                                      * * *

As Willy made his way to the Cloak Room, he thought about Miss Rivera. In a strange way, she wasn't what he expected either, and not just with her artistic talents. She was fascinated with every detail of his Factory; from the coat hangers to the Chocolate Room, and, from what he'd overheard of her conversation with Miss Gonzalez, there was a dark side to this polite Southern Belle. He'd also got a whiff of her hair when they were looking at the Square Candies, and it had smelled like strawberries. Strawberries go well with chocolate.

Miss Gonzalez, on the other hand, seemed like just a pretty face, with nothing below the surface. She had no interest in the Factory's wonders, and immediately picked up a fashion magazine when she was told to wait. She was the type of woman Willy would have been all over when he was younger, and foolishly believed that a nice physical appearance was the equivalent of true beauty. Still, he needed a secretary, and, if Miss Gonzalez was qualified, she'd get the job. Willy was about to open the door to the Cloak Room, until he found himself coughing violently.

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A/N: So, what do you think? For those of you who haven't read the book, that's where the "Square Candies that Look Round" came from. It's also where I got the "Hot Ice Cream for Cold Days," "Hot Ice Cubes for Hot Drinks" and "Cows that Give Chocolate Milk." I hope I didn't make Willy Wonka seem like a creepy stalker, and, just so you know, there's no love between Willy Wonka and Scarlett right now. It's just a simple attraction, and I hope I did well with the chemistry. One last question, how short do you think a chapter should be? This chapter's slightly over six pages, but I feel like I should be writing them longer.