Loving Mrs. Lovett
He wasn't a big fan of the sea. He'd been out at sea for so long, he almost hated water itself. He couldn't hate water though.
Washes the blood away, he thought idly, leaning against the window frame, breathing deep to relax his aching muscles. He'd been busy lately. Enough to slake his thirst during his wait for the Judge to return.
As the smoke stacks of London began to billow with blackness before him, Todd's thoughts returned to Mrs. Lovett.
She's a real lady, the boy – Toby? - had said to him the day Todd had killed Pirelli.
That she is, he'd replied...and hadn't been surprised when he'd meant it. He'd been infatuated with her from the moment their eyes met that first evening downstairs. He had secretly justified that the reason he liked her was because she was the first woman he'd seen in 15 years. Over time, he'd again said he cared for her because she had agreed to help him cover up his crimes. That day they danced together for the first time…he could hardly keep a smile off his face, as she swirled before him, all radiance and poise and beauty.
His heart skipped a beat as he let out a frustrated sigh, the window fogging slightly with his hot breath. She had actually smiled at him that day, more than the soft, understanding grin she regularly gave him. But for some reason, he had seen more than the upturned quirk of her lips. He'd seen how she looked at him, as if he were almost a god. He felt how strong and yet frail she was as his arm encircled her waist. And her features? Where he once saw merely fatigue and little sun light, he now saw beauty, beyond anything he'd imagined in years. Even his Lucy – no Barker's Lucy – was starting to wither in comparison.
But what struck him most about her was that she loved him, Sweeney Todd, even though she remembered Benjamin Barker plain as day. He'd changed so much, and yet her caring for him had remained constant for 15 years.
He shifted his feet as he heard her clatter around in her kitchen downstairs. He looked helplessly out the window. He loved her…and that frustrated and thrilled him constantly. She was a fascinating woman, his pet. He ran a hand through his ebony, two-toned mane.
Maddeningly fascinating, he thought.
He was suddenly reminded of her proposition, of them going to live together in a few years by the sea, just the two of them. He felt bad for not paying more attention to her thoughts. He did that regularly, he realized. He ignored her to a degree so he knew what she was saying but wasn't really listening. It was his way of keeping her at arms length, of distancing himself from her…of keeping her safe.
That maddened him most of all: he was the most dangerous man in London and yet she doted on him like they were lovers.
Doesn't she know that I could slit her own throat at any time?! Why isn't she afraid of me? He clenched his teeth, almost enraged by…something. He wasn't quite sure what. Why does she love me?
He started slightly as the door to his room opened, the object of his affection strolling in as it did.
"Brought ya some breakfast, love."
He didn't even turn.
"Mr. T, can I ask you a question?" she asked quietly.
He stared ardently out the window. "What?"
"What did your Lucy look like?"
Again with my Lucy…I'm not Barker anymore! He thought. The truth was he couldn't remember much about her. Except…
"Can't really remember, can you?" she read him like a book.
He shifted uncomfortably. "She had yellow hair."
Nothing like your ruby locks, my love.
He heard her sigh behind him, her footsteps nearing him.
"You've got to let it go, you know." She stopped within an inch or two of his left shoulder. "She's gone."
He blinked his answer. He knew that, but it was the only thing he was leaning on right now.
"Life's for the alive, love." She whispered.
He had to avenge her, if nothing else, to get back at the judge for ruining his life…and for taking his girl.
"We could have a life, us two." She was saying quietly.
His breath caught in his throat. He needed vengeance; every atom of his being begged for it. And yet here she was, offering him another way out…a normal life.
"Maybe not like I dreamed. Maybe not like you remember. But we could get by." She added quietly.
And he liked that idea. A life with her…even if it was by the sea. He could get used to it…if she was with him.
He realized she had stopped talking, waiting for his answer. He shifted his weight, pushing off from the window to turn to her. As he locked eyes with her, he saw so many things in her visage: concern, understanding, yearning …but most of all compassion.
My god, she's lovely.
And for the first time in weeks, the judge, Johanna, Lucy, even his thirst for revenge melted away as he stared into her eyes.
"What is it, Mr. T?" she shifted slightly under his gaze.
He took a step towards her, reaching out to capture her chin. As his thin fingers curled around her chin, he tilted her head up to look straight into her eyes as he asked softly,
"Why?" Her initial look warranted an injury at the misinterpretation of his question.
"Why what, sir?" she asked quietly. He stroked her chin slightly.
"Why aren't you afraid of me, Mrs. Lovett?" Quickly releasing her chin, he captured the back of her neck with the other hand while the other touched her exposed throat. Lightly touching her milky skin, he mused aloud.
"I could kill you at any time, Mrs. Lovett. You've seen first hand what I am truly capable of." He leaned her head back even more as he stepped even closer. "So why aren't you terrified of me?"
She searched his face a moment, trying to read something in his eyes, whether he really meant what he was asking possibly. Finally, with that understanding smirk sliding across her pale lips, she whispered,
"I know what you can do, Mr. T. You're right; I've seen what you do up here at night while I'm down there cooking up your deeds. But it's not a question of what ya could do to me, Mr. Todd. It's whether you would kill me that I try to think about." Her gaze intensified for a moment.
"Would you hurt me, Mr. Todd? In any way?" He searched her eyes for a moment, unsure of his answer... unsure of everything. Then without another thought, he lent down and brushed her lips with his own. He felt his heart speed up at the contact, his lungs suddenly void of oxygen.
He pulled away slightly to look at her. Her eyes were all hope and love. He gave her his slight smile, before whispering against her lips, "No."
He felt her sigh as he captured her mouth, strengthening his grip on the back of her neck; the other hand running down her side to wrap around her back, clasping her to him with savage tenderness. He felt her hands slide up around his shoulders and then entangle themselves in his hair.
He raised himself, pulling her with him as he moved her towards the chair. Disentangling himself from her, he sat her down in the chair as he leaned in towards her, bracing himself on the arms. He ravaged her mouth as she ran her hands over his hair, shoulders, face, neck, vest, and arms. When he came up for air, she gazed at him lovingly.
"I never want to have to hurt you, my pet." He lent down and brushed his lips against hers once more.
She smiled at him softly.
He studied her face. "Never," he breathed.
She nodded. "I love you, Mr. T."
He straightened up, bringing her with him. He took a step back, his mind a whirl from the wondrous experience they'd just shared.
Tell her, you git! You love her; you've proved it; now just say it!
But as he opened his mouth to reply, Anthony burst through the door.
"Mr. Todd! Mrs. Lovett, ma'am!"
"What is it, Anthony?" Todd asked, his mind still slightly numb with his indecisive notion of confessing his affections for his beloved pet.
"He's got her locked in a mad house." Anthony conceded.
And in that moment, all the thoughts of love and happiness were promptly replaced with those of revenge: sweet, blood coated revenge.
Todd glanced slightly back at his pet, his lovely Mrs. Lovett.
Perhaps, someday, I'll be able to stay with her. Someday, after all this is over.
He turned back towards Anthony, and grinned to himself.
But until that time, the Judge needs a shave!