INFORMATION: This is an AU in a way.
In this version, Benjamin Barker was framed by Judge Turpin and Lucy. Lucy was not entirely loyal during her relationship with Benjamin B.
Nellie Lovett is not Todd's landlady, but she knew the Barkers. She has always been obsessed with Benjamin B.Lucy & Benjamin never had any children. (Besides, Johanna really didn't serve much of a purpose in the first place anyways.)
The Pie Emporium is also a bed and breakfast, and it has a couple more rooms than just the four it had before.

I do not own Sweeney Todd or any of the other characters...so...let's get to the story.


C H A P T E R O N E

Little Old London

It had been nearly ten years since he left London; ten long years. Yet, everything was the same old thing; the pale streets, the bustling people...everything! As he walked towards his destination, there was no longer the cheery smile on his face like ten years before. Sweeney Todd had changed because of her, the wretched woman who ruined his life with a lie. No one would remember him, for he had changed his name. It had once been Benjamin Barker; but no longer. He hadn't trusted anyone in London since then, but now, he had returned to his long loved home.

He managed to get glances, a few whispers as well but paid no attention to them. He was heading for the street that his house used to be. Though Sweeney seemed calm most of the time, deep down he was just plain mad...absolutely mad. He hadn't been before, but now he was...all because of her. Soon enough, he neared the small building on the corner; his former home. At most times, Sweeney acted as if he were a statue; cold, quiet...just dead. But deep down, he had a heart. A heart that longed...for revenge!

It was but a regular day at her little bed and breakfast, only that it didn't seem like it at all. The wood surfaces were always dusty, mice would crawl up and down furniture freely and as soon as people had set their first step in the small business, they were gone. Not many things had been too well since the death of Nellie's husband only a couple of years back. She could recall when he would tell her about the things that people would say about the corner shop, the horrible, horrible memories. Someone had been murdered here? Is that why the floorboards are stained? It was a great deal she wanted to know, her never ending curiosity never seemed to be approaching to an end any time soon. She could see herself with such a monster, she could very well worship him…or maybe she was just a little…insane.

But even with the sad circumstances in her way, she never ceased her work as a pie maker. For some reason, such activity would keep her busy, entertained while she waited for costumers to come by and hopefully get over the foul scent that surrounded them. Maybe one day, she could get rid of one and make more money than that vagabond at the local cemetery. Nellie's bare hands would endlessly work on flour; molding it into trays of several sizes and filling those up with what seemed to be old, rotting meat she had probably prepared days before. She too had to admit that it looked horrid, but she wasn't sure whether or not it tasted that way. Not even she would consume her own creations! Was it because they looked bad? No. Was it the taste? Why of course not. Who would even put a finger on her meat pies?

A batch of the meat pies went into a rather large oven, and now it was a matter of waiting for them to cook. With her glove, she brushed away the sweat off the sides of her face, brushing back the many disheveled strands of dull blond hair that had found a way out of the bun she had fixed so it could hold on while her hands worked on the flour. She patted her dress, ridding off the excess flour that had remained there as she worked. As she did so, she thought about the room upstairs. She had never used it, had she? Nellie was sure that it could very well be worse than it was down here in the shop, but what was she kidding, she had gone up there several times to look in the abandoned trunks. There were several books, some knives and razors here and there and a carpet her deceased husband had placed to conceal a large spot that something had left on the floor. But other than those small details, the room was intact, untouched. To prove it, even the wall paper was stripping off the walls. Could there possibly be any more proof needed to confirm that she hadn't been there too much?

Her hazel eyes looked down at the hem of her gray corset, bringing it down as it to fix it around her body along with the skirts around her waist before she picked up a broom and walked outside. This was her life: alone, boring, just as dull as she was, but to be quite frank what was there to do? See the birds? Sing, perhaps?

Giving himself a moment to ponder the situation, Sweeney stood there on the corner. Once he saw the woman, his left brow raised. Who was this? Why was she the beside his house? What had happened to his house? Furrowing his brows, he strolled right across the street. Sweeney gazed up at the title, "Mrs. Lovett's Meat Pie Emporium"; the name sounded so vaguely familiar...but then again, he had forced himself to forget a lot of things from little old London. The letters of her title were quite faded. Nellie could very well remember how bright they were when the sign was set up only a couple of years ago, but now, it looked like a plank that said nothing to all those with poor eyesight. With the broom, she was able to sweep away the leaves that lingered in front of the business she ran by herself. As much she hated to admit it, it was rather non-existent. Once she was finished sweeping the leaves around the corner, she noticed a man looking at her business. Maybe she should give her business some promotion. No, no, it wasn't fit to welcome any visitors...

"Excuse me," she asked anxiously, putting her weight on the broom with both of her hands. Her eyes looked at the man suspiciously. "Do ye need a place to stay, sir?" A place to stay? But this was his house. Oh well, Sweeney dismissed the thought and glanced up to the woman, giving a simple look before nodding. He approached her casually, never really looking at her truly. After a moment, he made eye contact with her.

"Yes, a room would be nice. However, I have a small question I'm hoping you'd answer." He stated simply. She nodded nervously. Maybe she had a customer in her hands for the first time in weeks. Hopefully he'd stay long enough. The Bed and Breakfast was simple. A simple bed, and simple breakfast and off he would go. But, she asked herself whether or not he would be able to tolerate one night in her home. He then approached her closer before looking back up towards the faded sign. Turning his head back to face her, he asked, "How long exactly has it said Mrs. Lovett's Meat Pie Emporium?"

"Why," she said, holding on tightly to her broom as she looked up at the title. Nellie was surprised that he could even read it. Maybe, she was the one with the vision problems.

"Nothing...just curious, ma'am."

"I think it's been up for perhaps nine years, sir. My husband and I purchased the small house and made it our own..." Hopefully that would answer his question. Her eyes lingered over the man's face. Why did he seem oddly familiar? Was it the way he spoke, the way his mane was fixed? His eyes? Oh, bullocks, forget that. That explained the Mrs and how the picture was fading; but how did they manage to get his house. What happened to his beloved? His family? His life? It was all gone and Sweeney knew it. He tried to scavenged up a smile and then walked right to the door. He took a second look at her, and then it sparked. Nellie...of course...how ever could he forget Nellie? He had seen her many times before, mostly when taking walks with Lucy. Now, Sweeney's mind began to wander. He suddenly proposed another question right out of the blue,

"And the woman who once lived in this house? Lucy Barker...what happened to her?" She raised a brow. Familiar names, once more. She could recall reading of some sort of murder, and that name, that bloody name...

"She? Last thing I heard of her was that she could no longer maintain herself and was forced to leave. I have not heard anything of her since," she informed him as she walked inside the shop. The sweet jingle of a bell could be heard when she pushed it open, placing the broom conveniently by the side of the door. "May I ask why you are questioning such things that happened so long ago?" she said as she walked towards the oven, taking a peek at the meat pies.

"No reason...I just wanted to know how my family was." He replied and then gazed back up at her, before he began to gaze around. He was trying to spot any old furniture, but he didn't. Nellie was trying to find an old registry of the guests that had stayed there before as he wandered around.

"Family?" she inquired. "You are...related to the family who resided here?"She opened a large book. It was covered in dust and some residues from pie crust, but the inside was intact. The few signatures and the dates of those who stayed here were written down in blue ink. It was back when her husband was alive. It was incredibly strange, really, that after ten years, one was finally coming here, but not to claim the home as his own. No family of the Barker came around to claim the home once Lucy was evicted... She laid the book open in from of him, a small bottle of ink and a quill aside.

The foul smell had finally begun to reach him once he walked past a bowl of something or other. Sweeney stared at it. What on God's green Earth was that! He opened his mouth to speak and then closed it, knowing it'd probably be worse to ask. Now, he really didn't want to know. His thoughts wandered to Lucy. What had happened to her? He shook his head and then glanced back to Nellie, pointing to the pies in the oven. "I think I'd like one of those, please."

"Oh, why of course. Just allow them a few more minutes and they will be finished. In the meantime, would you like some ale?"

"Yes, ale would be nice ma'am." Sweeney smirked. Sweeney was pretty sure that ale would probably not be strong enough to wash those pies down. He knew for a fact, those pies would taste terrible. After all, just glancing at one already in the oven, he could recognize a mouse tail hanging out of it. Oh well, he was just trying to be generous. He swallowed hard, signing his name rather quickly; Benjamin Barker. Yes, that wasn't his name anymore but still, it might spark a couple thoughts Nellie's mind. He slid the book forward to her. Once she poured the ale, she slid it towards him, taking the registry and reading over the small list of people on the page he had signed on. There was a Ms. Burberry who came by about six years ago, and that Mr. Hatchett who was also a guest, even if it was for an hour.

"Benjamin," she repeated, looking at him, and when she turned to look at the last name, she dropped the book on the table, lifting the flour that was left on it and creating slight clouds of smoke on both ends of the book..

"Mr. Barker, I could have sworn you were dead long ago. What is the purpose of your return?" Dead long ago? Did she actually think he had been killed? It surprised him. He had only been gone for ten years. Sweeney studied Nellie for a moment before responding to her question.

"I wanted to see Lucy." He replied, looking down at the cup of ale. "Traveling the world no longer seemed...wondrous after they sent me away." There was a sense of sorrow and anger in his voice.

"Well, I'm quite sorry, but I don't think you may find her in this shop anymore. Maybe if you search the city, I' sure you will find some traces of her." She turned around to look at the pies and took one out, placing it on a ceramic plate. "Oh, I've always wanted to travel the world, see its wonders, but my life is here, keeping this old shop with whatever my husband left behind. It is certainly a pity when one loses interest in such activities. One gets bloody homesick,"Nellie said, letting out a giggle as she set the plate in front of him. For a couple minutes, he stared towards the window with a cross look upon his face. Why Sweeney even cared about Lucy was beyond anyone's knowledge. After all, she was half of the reason why they took him away so suddenly.

Finally, Sweeney turned his head to face Nellie. Sweeney then noticed the pie and truthfully, became a little hesitant to eat it. Everything about that pie was ridiculously uncanny. Swallowing his fear, he picked up the pie and took a bite. The foul taste entered his mouth and he almost immediately felt like vomiting. Unfortunately, he swallowed then pretended to smile; soon after, he gagged. She raised a brow, shaking her head as she saw him eat part of the dreadful pie. She expected him to spit it out when he tasted him and walk out, never to return again, but she was surprised that he had a strong stomach, one strong enough to endure the foul taste of her meat pies. She held on to the bottle of ale, just in case he desired to drink some more to wash out the taste. Sweeney faked another smile before grabbing the ale and downing it completely. The taste remained.

"Ahem...that was..." Sweeney paused and then tried to change the subject. "Mrs. Lovett...there's a lot more out in the world for you than this...a lot more." He didn't see her reasons for staying here...unless...no, that couldn't be why. Sweeney was sure she hadn't stayed just to meet him. Then again, he noticed her many times before on those walks with Lucy; he remembered how Nellie stand and stare at him with an odd look of longing in her eyes. But still, Sweeney didn't get it. There were many things he didn't get, including all the things his beloved Lucy had been doing behind his back...all the things she put him through, just to make her happy. He had been foolish...but he would never make that mistake again! She put away the book under the counter and took a rag from the basin so she could clean up the table with it, passing it around.

"Why do you say so? My husband died. I'm sure there's nothing I could really do," Nellie told him with a smirk. She remembered his dear Lucy. Oh, how she envied her. He always seemed like the perfect gentlemen ten years ago when they were together, and even now, this strange, peculiarly mad man was still an object of interest.

"I try my best to make a living for myself, seeing that no one else isn't quite interested in me or any of my affairs...Why would anyone want to know about the widow in her dirty, cockroach ridden shop, Mr. Barker?" she said as she stepped on one with her brown leather boot.

Sweeney listened intently to her with a smirk upon his face. Nellie was a puzzle to him, and truthfully, it interested him. It confused him on how she could ever make a living selling these horrid pies. If given the chance to choose between the pie and a cockroach, Sweeney would rather choose the cockroach. He still had the putrid taste in his mouth. Pushing the cup towards her, he signaled he'd rather have some more.

"Mr. Barker...no." He paused, leaning forward with a eerie grin. "It's Todd now...Sweeney Todd." She leaned back once he got closer, too close for comfort, really. But she nodded. "And yes, No one cares about anyone here in London, Mrs. Lovett." Sweeney sighed, glancing towards the window with a frown. True, no one cared. They never cared to give him a fair trial either...or even hear his story...he had been the innocent one. The sad expression turned into a dark solid glare.

"Todd...alrighty," she agreed, nodding as she stepped back. "Well, that's true, no one cares about anybody, but surely someone needs to care about something. You see, I cared about the cases that involved this household, reason why I had convinced my husband to purchase this home, turn it into a shop..." Obsessive? Oh no, the house was beautiful back then! There wasn't a single surface that wasn't clean, or a single cockroach on the floor.

"I need to prepare your room. If you'd allow me a few minutes,"

"Prepare my room? Why would you need to prepare it if you kept it just as I left it before? Or did you not?" He looked at her suspiciously. Sweeney hoped she hadn't touched anything...except the spot on the floor. He'd be lucky if that was gone.

"Well, why wouldn't I? This is a bed and breakfast, Mr..." She was still not sure whether she should call him by the name she knew, but then she recalled his petition when he informed her about his new identity. "Todd. I would very well like to see my guests comfortable..."

"Comfortable? Nobody could ever be comfortable in this house...it's filled with memories...sadness...shadows...and as you say, cockroaches." He explained as he looked around the room.

"Well, to me, it's my home, sir, And well, I know this place may be in need of some changes, some good cleaning, but whatever happened in here doesn't affect how I feel about this home. Maybe to you it might, but you have your reasons," she told him with a sweet smile as she listened to him and his explanation to why it seemed so to him.

Of course, he had a much harder time in here and many memories he never let go of, but what did it matter? Even though she wasn't familiar with his feelings towards the shop, she felt sympathy, but why was that? Did she still feel the same strange, obsessive love for him? Of course London was her home...after all, she had been living in London for longer than he remembered. Sweeney had his reasons for disliking this place; he had plenty of reasons. Still, he didn't see her reasons for staying here...unless it was simply to wait until he got back.

He shook his head a bit, "Nothing but a big gaping pit of despair just waiting to swallow me up again."

"Well, what can I say? I felt such feelings only a mere couple of years ago, yet there's nothing I can do. This is what I call home, where I get my money from...It's enough to pay the rent..."It was obvious now that Sweeney Todd was completely off his rocker. Or was he? Perhaps the stories were true. There was little time to ponder for he had suddenly begun to speak again. Finally, he turned to her again with a straight face.

"However, you never quite answered my question. Did you or did you not move my furniture?" He asked. "I'd rather hope you left it just as it was ten years ago, all down to the dust on the floor."

"Well, the room upstairs is untouched," she informed him, a small lie. Nellie had raided it numerous times, searching for anything regarding this man. And either way, the wallpaper was peeling off the walls, and everything was dusty as he claimed he desired it to be. "Would you like to see?"

"Not only see it, but perhaps, take it out of your hands..." He said with a half grin. It was obvious he was thinking of something. Sweeney could hardly remember all that he had left behind, but he did remember one thing...those razors...the one thing a barber wouldn't go without. However, Sweeney was more things than just a barber...many more jobs...many more things.

She put away the bottle of ale under the table and looked at him, raising her brow. Of course, the room upstairs was unused, dusty and dirty enough to keep a maid working for days without a break. She didn't see why she had to keep it for herself. After all, she had become a lonely lady. She was lucky to have someone come past the door and it would be a miracle if one would stay even for a night. But this she had considered it to be much greater than either two of those things. Company was a very rare thing she would cross by every once in a while. "I don't see any reason why I must keep it to myself," she thought out loud as she placed her hands on the edge of the table and looked at him. Overall, she was entranced by his wicked grin, by how is lips twisted to form it. She didn't know whether to surrender her home and everything in it or just let him do whatever he desired with the top room.

"I guess I could. After all, I'm lonely. This was your home... but why would you wish to stay in a place that you say brings back so many memories?" she inquired curiously as she leaned across the table. So many memories indeed. Sweeney began to stare at the half full glass, remembering the last moments in this house. For a while, he didn't say anything at all, just stared. Finally, he glanced upward at her and tipped his head to the side.

"Why?" Sweeney looked around a bit and then glanced towards the stairs, hand on his chin as if thinking. "Between you and me, I have some...business to be taken care of. The only way I'm going to achieve that is to get my old tools and my old job back...and find out the whereabouts of Lucy." He explained. His plan almost sounded like some clever criminal idea. Sweeney took another drink of his ale, finishing it off. She raised a brow, taking the empty glass and putting it in the basin so she could take care of it later on. He was still as strange as she remembered him to be, that quiet man who said everything he had in mind yet never once failed to spoil his own plans to strangers that he barely spoke of. Mysterious, yes, incredibly mysterious and very intriguing.

"You've always been a man of little words, Mr. Todd, always promising, never failed to anyone, but this Lucy, do you really think you'll find her after ten years? I don't mean to offend you, sir, but I doubt she is alive..."Almost immediately after Nellie mentioned Lucy, Sweeney's facial expression turned from friend to the look of a murderer. All Nellie wanted was Sweeney for herself, all his attention focused on her and her only. Why keep him in her house if she wouldn't receive any attention? Giving her a grin, he added,

"Think of it this way, I get my old job back and you get company, and I guarantee it'll attract some customers for you."

"I'd love to see people return," she said with a sigh as she looked out the windows. It was getting dark, and many businesses were closing now.

"But how? This place is a wreck. It turned into one after my husband passed..." He stood up, slamming his fist down on the table as he snapped,

"I WILL find her...alive! If not, I'll rid this town of whichever bastard who thought it fine to kill her!" To anyone, this sudden change in attitude would probably be rather frightening, but after all, this was Sweeney; this was Benjamin, the hopelessly devoted lover of Lucy. While all the world would think he was doing this just to find his love, he was doing it to partly get his revenge. He never noticed how much Nellie was obsessed with him; if he did, things would probably far different in these circumstances. At the time, he just glared at her with burning eyes, breathing heavy and brows narrowed. Her eyes widened at the sudden change of attitude, the sudden fit of rage he threw her way. She stepped back, eying him from head to toe as he fumed. How could so little words make a specific yet mysterious man into a monster that seemed like he would kill her if she said something regarding such enviable woman. She placed a hand over her chest, trying to keep a straight face at Sweeney.

"I'm... sorry," she muttered turning around to face the basin, cleaning the glass of ale he had used earlier. His penetrating gaze was something she wouldn't put up with, which is why she avoided it. What was she supposed to tell him now? Was that Lucy alive? Gosh, no one knew. She had been evicted from this very household months after Sweeney had vanished from the city. Sweeney had watched her carefully though his eyes were flaming. She was sorry? Did she know something more? Of course not! He didn't expect Nellie to know anything about his beloved Lucy. Beloved...hmpf...in his dreams, maybe.

"You're making assumptions," Nellie thought to herself once she finished washing the glass and placed it on the shelf once more for further use. With hope that he might have calmed down, she turned around, facing him once more. "D'you wish me to show you to your room, Mr. Todd?" she simply asked as she dried her hands on a piece of cloth.

Calming down a bit, he nodded. "Yes, please." He said politely, as if the sudden outburst of his had never happened. But Sweeney truly did want to see his room and some of the possessions that had been left behind. All the memories of this house still dwelt in his mind. They had dwelt in his mind when he was taken away, they had dwelt in jail with him; and they had dwelt with him while traveling the world. Yet, some of the important ones still lurked in that room upstairs. Sweeney wanted to see them again, those razors, the pictures...and all the other furniture.

She nodded and looked around, searching for anything that would be missing in the room. Ah, a candle, a fresh new wax candle for him to light in case it grew dark and he wanted to do something. It had been years since she had taken care of any of them, tended to them, fixed or even remodeled. A candle, although simple, could be a good addition. Along with it, she picked a ceramic plate to burn the candle on before walking towards a small panel where one could see the iron keys and their rusty, faded numbers. Did she even know which one of the keys that hung from the hooks belonged to what door? They hadn't been opened in months, hadn't they?

Unexpectedly, he exclaimed, "And about this...wreck of a place, you need not worry Mrs. Lovett, I'll do what I can to help you fix it up."

"Help?" she inquired as she took one of the keys and pressed it against her chest. "Are you telling me you will...stay here, Mr. Todd?" Was this place even fit to keep two people in it? It was barely inhabitable for one! He thought over her question for a moment. Did he want to stay here in London? Yes. Why not? He could start up his barber shop again just like before, which would in turn attract customers for Nellie; then she'd have enough money to fix the place up and make some edible pies. Sweeney then turned to her again and nodded firmly.

"Yes...if you will allow me to do so, I would like to stay." He stated simply. After all, where else was there for him to go? He hoped that Nellie didn't mind him staying here. But he guessed she rather enjoyed the company at least. Who wouldn't? Hadn't she mentioned that it got rather lonely? Besides, he didn't want that room to go to waste.

"Why, of course you can stay, Mr. Todd, but I'm afraid you may not find it as well as it was when Lucy left..." She nodded and walked past him, heels tapping rhythmically against the wooden floorboards that bent under her feet, threatening to break under her weight and reveal the attic where the oven constantly burned wood. Frames were turned over, bed's could very well have been eaten away by the termites that also raided the cabinets and sheets could be raided with cockroaches... there could be quite a handful of things going on that she wasn't quite aware of. All she could do was cross her fingers and hope that everything was the way she thought she had left it. "But, your company, while it lasts, is very appreciated," she added with a smile as she walked into the narrow hallway and reached the first door.

Just like the sign outside, the number on the wooden door was a faded silver, barely readable, but she knew the number. Simple number one. She inserted the key into the slot, but it didn't open. It wasn't the key. Marbelle moved further into the hallway and inserted the key into the second door's slot. It did get in completely and the knob could be turned. Now, the door was stuck. She pushed against it, only budging it slightly. How long had it been since it was last opened?

Without warning, he slid past her and pushed a little harder on the door. It opened with a loud screech like most old doors did. When it did, dust rose and then fell. Sweeney took a couple steps into the room and immediately, memories seemed to flash within his mind; memories of that last night. He glanced around with no expression upon his face. Everything seemed to look the same. Though the wallpaper was stripping off the walls and the picture of Lucy had aged a bit, everything appeared just as he had left it. In the corner, a broken cabinet that was practically just a pile of wood still remained. The few trunks were left just as he had remembered except for one of them was open. The back room conjoined to this one still had a bed in somewhat good condition. But the suspicious carpet confused Sweeney. He walked over to it, sliding it to the side to reveal the dark crimson stain he remembered very well to that of some stranger; some stranger they had accused him of murdering. Moving it back, he let out a sigh and looked around.

Oh, this was that one room she constantly spent time in, searching in the chest, digging at the papers and staring at that framed picture of Lucy, that woman she envied during all that time. She would remember how the two were together. Playful, in love and seeming almost perfect in everyone's eyes but her own. But now, she had him for himself, in her room. It was only a matter of time before Nellie could make him fall in love with her. She sighed at the thought before walking inside, looking inside. The wallpaper was yellowed, peeling off the walls and dust was on every surface. She walked to the window and touched the dust ridden sill. It certainly needed some cleaning. This place reeked of antiquity, of death. A large chest caught Sweeney's eye and he quickly rushed over to it. Searching through many papers to get to the bottom where he moved the secret flooring to reveal a hidden box. Sweeney grinned and closed the chest, the box in his hands.

"All these years and no one ever found them."

She turned to him once he spoke, a box in his hands sparking her curiosity. She had never found that in the chest, had she? "Found what, exactly?" she asked, taking a step towards him.

Sweeney just grinned, staring at it as he opened the lid. Any light in the room instantly bounced off the contents of the box; his prized razors. "The finest silver you'd ever get the chance to see...no barber could be without." He told her as he looked up, showing her the box. "Take a good look, Mrs. Lovett...these razors are the answers to both are misfortunate problems." And this was true, this was going to bring a lot of attention to this little building. Little did he know what Nellie's true intentions were...or how desperate she was to call him her own. But then again, she too had no idea what went on in that demonic mind of his...how much he wanted revenge on all who wronged him.

She looked down at the razors that deflected the little light that came from the window. She bent down to look at the small metal pieces, intrigued. Oh, how could she had forgotten his area of expertise? He was a barber, a good one by the looks of the men he had shaved long before. She pursed her lips and tucked a loose strand of her dull blonde hair behind her ear as she looked at the pieces of metal. "Well, I sure must say, they are very... well hidden. I don't think anyone could have found those," she told him with a smile as she slid a finger over the lid of the case, smirking.

Nodding a bit, he then turned and looked back at the picture. "That means Lucy followed my request and hid them...just like I told her before they took me away." Sweeney remembered how only ten minutes before the people had taken him off, he had told her to hide it so that when he returned, they could keep going with there lives. That picture brought a smile to his face and he muttered softly to no one in particular. "Some day I'll find you again..." Sometimes, Sweeney confused himself. He didn't know whether he still loved this Lucy or if it was because she hated her.

She took a look at the picture and nodded. "I would have done the same for you, Mr. Todd," she told him, almost unconsciously. Sweeney had barely heard Nellie's first uttered words but he heard enough for him to ponder the meaning of it. Just the way she said it left him overflowing with questions;

Why she did she say that? What did she mean by that? Why does she speak in a tone as if she knew me forever?

She realized how much she did feel for him, how much she yearned for his attention. "I mean, she must have been an incredibly devoted woman. You were a lucky man," she told him as she walked away and found the rocking chair. She could see that termites had chewed away the wood, a sure warning that if anyone sat on it, it would crumble into soon enough, his mind was occupied by another thought. He scoffed, shaking his head at her words.

"A lucky man? No...foolish, yes, but not lucky. Lucy was anything but devoted. She did what she wanted regardless of what I asked of her." Sweeney contradicted with a sigh. He remembered how much Lucy took him for granted in their later years of marriage. She would often complain about the house, about his job, and or about random little things that rarely mattered. Of course, she was polite to him in public; but the last year in this house, she never was. A threatening scowl was beginning to form upon Sweeney's face as he stared at the picture, fist clenched tightly. It was Nellie's voice that sucked him out of that hypnotized state of mind.

"Some day, Sweeney. Some day," she whispered as her gaze turned to the dirty window as it grew darker and darker. "I should close the door..." she said as she turned away and headed for the door. He glanced at her and then to the window. It truly was getting dark, and yet, Sweeney wasn't the least bit tired at all. His mind was swimming with ideas. This room was ancient and it would take him a while to fix it all up. Setting the box down on top of one of the trunks, he walked to the other door, the one that had since been opened for nearly seven years. Before reaching for the door knob, Sweeney stated plainly, "It's late, Mrs. Lovett. I think I'll go for a walk." She sighed, waiting for him to at least speak to her, about anything, really. Just a mere word could send a smile as well as a shiver up her spine in seconds. Such magic his words said, and such devotion she had towards him.

"For a walk? Would you like some company, Mr. T?" she inquired, waiting for him to open the door with a twist of the brass knob. Sweeney wasn't sure if he wanted company or not. He glanced at the doorknob and then slowly turned it. The door opened with ease despite the time since one last used it. Then he gazed back at Nellie, standing there with her big hazel eyes staring right back. It seemed to him like she was just waiting for him to say yes.

With a sigh, he answered, "If you wish it." Sweeney simply couldn't refuse her. After all, he had no reason not to want company. Besides, Nellie had let him regain the room; the least he could do was humor her. Actually, he hoped he might catch a word of Lucy's whereabouts while on this walk. He opened the door a little more, waiting for Nellie to go out first. It was his role to be a gentlemen...back when he had been Benjamin. Now, it was just a habit.

"I'd be glad to," she said in a merry tone, despite his anticipated cold response. One would think she was mad for even giving this man who had so many charges against him in her own residence, but what did it matter? She loved him! Nellie walked out of the room and through the narrow hallway, taking the keys with her. She hooked them on the panel and moved on to taking an umbrella for herself. The day was gloomy, and she feared rain would fall and make her sick. Sweeney waited for a moment, until he finally just slipped out the door, hoping she'd follow. He knew London well enough by now. But then again, things had changed...people had come and gone. Once he did manage to get to the bottom of the stairs, he stopped and looked up, waiting for her. Did Sweeney really want her company? He still wasn't sure. There were many things about Nellie that made him somewhat uneasy which would explain why not many people visited this small house in the first place. But that was Nellie; he had always thought of her that way. But now, there was a slight something that he kind of liked. What was it? She was strange...like him.

To Be continued...

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