A/N: I'm not sure how well I did at tackling Sweeney Todd. Reviews will tell me? Pleasels cheesels! Anyway, this is just a one-shot. I love Toby as a character and really would have loved to see some more sweet moments between him and Mrs Lovett in the film. Therefore, I wrote one to try satisfy my cravings for the cute little ruffigan.
Love Kaitie xx
Mrs Lovett stood poised by the wooden slab of a work bench. Her hands were covered in stodgy dough and her arms made even paler by the fine dust of flour that covered them. Haphazard tendrils
of curls fell into her face as she kneaded the dough violently, throwing her body wholeheartedly into the task at hand. Toby sat on a bench pressed against the window. He rested his hands on the
well worn wooden surface of the table. Neither he nor Mrs Lovett spoke as she pounded away at the dough. Pound, stretch, role. Pound, stretch role. It filled the shop with a well accustomed rhythm.
One which neither of the parties wished to interrupt its soothing familiarity. A fire blazed behind the bedraggled woman in the stone fireplace. The fire licked at the wood turning it black around the
edges. Toby ran his ring finger over the rim of a chipped mug. She had replaced his usual portion of gin with sweetened tea. It tasted strange to the boy, what with lacking the bite he was used to. But
it was nice. It brought him down to earth and reminded him of his age. Of the warmth and happiness which can come with any form of family. Mrs Lovett finished with her dough making and plucked up
a cloth hanging from a nearby chair. She wiped down her arms but the flour was stuck solid as glue. Toby let out a chuckle to which she lifted her head and gave him a teasing smile.
"Now you young man, need to learn the tricks of the trade." She grabbed his arm and pulled him over to the hearth. "Cooking was once been considered women's business it was, but times are hard
and I'm a little light staffed you see?" She crouched down beside the fire and passed the boy an iron poker. "You need to feed the fire regularly boy, otherwise it'll die, and with the price of coal these
days, we're not going to let that happen, eh?" He took the poker and prodded the wood. Embers sparked and a log rolled out landing on the edge of his bare foot. He recoiled suddenly with a yelp of
pain, the burning log had brought up a red welt on his smooth skin. Mrs Lovett gasped and led the boy to an upended barrel. He sat warily as she rushed over to a cover and brought out some rubbing
alcohol.
"You need to be more wary boy. You worry me you careless sod." Toby sat dazed as she dabbed the burn with a small cloth. He repeated the words over and over. "You worry me." He felt a warmth
burst from his chest and his cheeks bloomed red. He wasn't accustomed to having people who cared about him. Mrs Lovett looked up at him and gave him a sharp knock on the arm. "You worry me
Toby." He took the playful knock in stride and swung his free leg back and forth as she continued to clean his wound. She stood up awkwardly, body tired from constant standing and working. She
gave him a stern look but her eyes were full of warmth and concern. Although the room was dark an unkempt Toby recognised it as home. And the warmth, of both heart and world was unequal to
anywhere else in this dirty little place called London.