A/n: Just need a little bit of a boost, I have been really down lately so I thought some Sweeney Todd fiction would brighten me up, even thought it isn't all that cheery. It is based about something a friend and I came up with. Enjoy!

Nellie Lovett paced around her small home. She smoothed out her rarely used dress. The green material rustled about as she stared out the window and then back at the clock. Her eyes scanned the darkening streets, her fingers pressed against the window.

It was a calm cool night in London. The stars flickered brightly in the sky there was no cloud in sky. She sighed heavily and pressed her head to the window.

"Waiting for some one Mrs. Lovett?" a familiar voice sneered from the shadows. Her body jerked away from the window and she turned away from the window.

"Mr. T" her voice was slightly rattled as she looked up at his shadowed face. "If you must know I am." She fiddled with a curl that had fallen from her pins.

"Well don't we look lovely tonight?" He was sharp and angry, but he slightly soft in his speaking. She swallowed hard and turned away from him. "Who is the lucky man?" He said stepping out of the darkness and closer to her pale form.

"Mr. Winters. He's a regular." She mumbled against the glass of the window.

"You can't even look at me when you speak his name?" He said gripping her arm.

"Mr. Todd." She looked up and saw the figure of a man turning the handle of her shop door. She pulled again quickly and rushed to the door.

Sweeney glared at her and pushed by her to his shop. He stalked up the wooden steps to his shop. He placed his hand on the knob, ready to turn when he watched Mr. Winters usher Nellie away from her home. He man was thin and had a frail look about him, from what Sweeney could see. His graying hair was tucked neatly under his hat. His clothes were in hues of brown and earthy tones. Nellie smiles and giggled slightly as she laced her arm with his, her small fingers pressed lightly against his arm. Sweeney's grip on the handle tightened, he knew that the soft blush on her cheeks trailed down her neck and chest. No doubt Mr. Winters had already noticed the way her blush trails over the pale chest just as Sweeney had, the way her eyes glittered with excitement. He undoubtedly knew that Mr. Winters was drinking up every soft curve, every inch of creamy skin. He craned his head around the building and watched their figures knitted together as they walked.

Their hushed voices grew fainter as they strolled down the dirty streets. Sweeney's grip tightened harder as he pushed the door open wide. He swung the door closed loudly behind him. The glass rattled in their frames as the door clicked shut. He slumped down in to the worn leather.