I do not own anything apart from this meagerly formed idea and a hastily made up character.

Sorry for the delay, I've got a cold and it's making me miserable.

Jane was busying herself trying to make as many varieties of cinnamon rolls as possible - some more soft and most, others drier and crunchier, and a select few with odd added ingredients that Willy had suggested whilst watching her. Trying carefully to wrap the pastry around a giant marshmallow, Jane felt oddly thrilled to be experimenting with food stuffs again like she used to do in college. She turned to check her notes; exact instructions and weights of the recipes she'd made.

Setting the odd variety of rolls on a baking tray, she moved to put them in a nearby and futuristic looking oven when she clocked Mr. Wonka exciting the room.

"Where you off?" She called out, raising an eyebrow in his direction.

He turned with an expression that said he was surprised to be talked to, but it quickly changed. "Other business to attend. Go ahead and clean up, the oompa loompas will get you what you need." He was about to waltz out through the vault like door, before holding up a finger, as if remembering. "Oh yeah, whatever you do, don't touch that new machine over there. It's making a new top secret product of mine, but I'm afraid it's a tad temperamental."

She glanced at the ridiculous looking deathtrap before turning back and shrugging to him.

With him now gone and the oven temperatures set, she went about cleaning up her workspace. The strange little people had sure enough brought her a spray bottle of Flash Lemon and a handful of dishcloths. She took them hesitantly, thanking them in a small voice - she still felt the residual urge to boot them for their strange indifference to her kidnapping, same of course being said for their master.

As she scrubbed and scoured, washed and dried, she finally began to ponder on Willy's parting words.

Was there any actual need to tell her about the malfunctioning machine? It was across the room, so she was hardly going to bump into the damned thing. The more she ruminated on the words, the more she kept sneaking looks at the odd contraption. Then she noticed the Oompa Loompas (as they were apparently called, yet she was unconvinced) giving her knowing looks. Then it clicked.

Leaning down to one of the tanned little people, she whispered, "does he always do that?"

Her answer was a smiling nod, and a few chuckles from nearby workers.

She supposed it was to be expected that someone who'd been cheated that many times was bound to have a weird sort of corporate conspiracy complex.

"Well, lead me nod into temptation. What else is there to do?"

A small hand pointed to a very hairy Oompa Loompa who was trying to cut his own tresses.

Willy wandered his halls, peeking past doors and checking in rooms. After two hours, and once satisfied none of his workers had been set alight, he trotted on back to the seahorse ship, intent on going back to the inventing room.

The presence of the woman in his factory had slightly offended him as it had when he had let those five children have a tour. Mrs Bucket's ability to nag was the sole reason Miss Shepard had become a business partner - unless it had anything to do with new inventions, Willy Wonka did not like change.

Strolling back into dimly lit room, he saw Jane standing next to a table, as if waiting for him. She was favouring one of her crossed legs and leaning onto the steel surface with her bare strong arms. Next to her hand was the tray of rolls she had been making.

"Don't worry," she called with a knowing look, "nothing exploded whilst you were away."

"Jolly good, can't have explosions happening!" He replied as he swallowed thickly. Perhaps his little test of curiosity was best used on children, and not adults.

"Hurry up then, scoff down some rolls, it's why I'm here," she drawled lazily once noticing he seemed to be off in his own world.

"Oh yes, of course!" He trotted over to the tray and picked one up at random - the plain one. A delicate nibble then, a toss backwards over his shoulder. "Too dry." The one that had extra milk and butter in the recipe. This one was thrown. "Acceptable." The cinnamon roll with raisins and sultanas in. Also chucked over his shoulder. "Wrong."

The one with the giant marshmallow wrapped inside was the only one he could say he was impressed with. The gooey texture on the inside complimented the rough pastry on the outside. He even hummed a little with pleasure. Looking at Jane, he nodded, smile enthusiastic. "Now this one's a keeper."

Jane raised her eyebrow and sent a disappointed sigh over the rolls on the floor that the Oompa Loompas were sweeping up. The one he had picked, had been the only one he had imput on. Was it truly better with his advice, or was it him being egotistical?

"Goodness," Willy gasped suddenly. "Ralph, who gave you a mullet?"