Mine

Summary: Todd doesn't like it when a customer flirts with Mrs. Lovett. Sweenett!! 

All he had wanted was a drink.

Sweeney Todd had just disposed of what looked to be his last customer for the day, and the work had made him thirsty for some gin. Though he usually didn't like to go down into the pie shop while Mrs. Lovett had customers about, he reasoned that what looked to be the beginnings of a fierce rain storm would send the customers scurrying home. He was displeased, therefore, when he trudged downstairs to find Mrs. Lovett chatting up some fop of a man. He stayed back where they couldn't see, hoping the man would leave soon.

"Ah my dear, these are the most delicious pies I have ever eaten!"

"Thank you kindly sir, please do tell your friends to come by and try them too…"

"You know, delectable as they are, these pies aren't the whole reason I come here."

"Hmm?" Mrs. Lovett was concentrating on her baking. "Another reason, dearie? What's that then?"

"Why, do be in the company of the most beautiful baker in England, of course!"

Oh please. Pathetic. Todd shook his head in disgust. Surely, Mrs. Lovett wouldn't fall for the flattery of this –

"Oh – well – " Mrs. Lovett stuttered and blushed. "See, look what you've done know, gone a got me all flustered when I'm trying to work …" But she was grinning, and blushing, and –

"I don't suppose I might … see you sometime? I mean, outside of your fine dining establishment?"

She would say no. He was certain of it. She may have been flattered by the attention, but there was no way she would seriously want to –

"Well, I …" Mrs. Lovett thought briefly of her Mr. Todd. No, she correctly herself silently. He wasn't her anything. He ignored her, took her for granted. He only paid attention to her when he wanted something, or needed to vent his rage. After all she did for him, and all she felt for him … and here? Here was a man – a handsome one – who spoke to her kindly, complemented her, and actually wanted to spend time with her. Well, why the hell not?

"I'd like that, I think," she said shyly, lowering her gaze for a moment before looking back up at him. "I'm uh, not sure when I'll have the time though – maybe if you come by tomorrow, we can arrange - ?"

"Of course," he smiled as he stood up and approached her. "Until then, my dear…" He took her and kissed it, eliciting a little giggle of delight, and gave her a final, fond glance before going out the door.

Meanwhile, unbeknownst to the giddy Mrs. Lovett, Sweeney Todd was silently fuming only a few feet away.

What. Was she. THINKING!?!

Well, he didn't care. He couldn't. She could see any fool she liked, so long as no one caught on their little business arrangement. What had he come down for? Ah yes. Gin.

Striding past the baker, who was now humming and annoyingly happy, he got out the bottle and poured himself a glass. Mrs. Lovett seemed to be in her own little world, but eventually, she glanced up and saw him.

"Oh, hello there, Mr. T," she said, and he merely grunted in response. Used to his manners, she didn't let his dark mood dampen her spirits, and merely continued her cheery humming and baking. Only when she heard his voice again did she again look up.

"Pathetic," he snarled.

Mrs. Lovett regarded him, puzzled. "'Scuse me?"

"You … fawning all over that fop that just left …" He glared at her. For some reason he couldn't explain, he was angry. Irrepressibly angry.

For once, she regarded him coolly, ceasing her work, her hands on her hips. "He was fawning all over me, more like. And what's wrong with that? After all, it's not like I've got any other prospects…" She looked pointedly at him, but he had suddenly become very interested in the contents of his gin glass. He scowled at his own reflection.

Foolish, impossible, infuriating, irritating, maddening woman!

"You're actually going to let him …?"

"Court me? Why not? He handsome, he's kind, he listens –" another pointed look – "It's about time I had some romance in me life –"

"You can't!" He stood up now, almost shouting, glaring at her. She felt her pulse quicken with fear and he advanced upon her. Once again, he backed her against a well, his hand at her throat. This time, however, her fear was mixed with anger. Her dark brown eyes blazed at him, strong and defiant.

"Why not?"

"Because you're MINE!" He shouted. The words were out before he could even stop to realize what he was saying. The rage, the possession, surged through him. He saw her pale, flawless skin, the smooth curves of her body that he'd pretended not to notice… seemingly hypnotized, he watched the rise and fall of her all-too-ample breasts as she breathed, and he felt the warmth of her skin beneath his fingers.

He leaned in so their lips were almost touching, brushed them past her cheek, and whispered in her ear, "Do you hear me? You're mine. You belong to me." He pulled back to look at her. Her eyes were wide, almost pleading her, her lips so close … "Mine…" he repeated softly, and leaned forward to crush his mouth with hers.

The kiss was hard, passionate, frantic, his tongue demanding and gaining access into her mouth, dueling furious with her own, and winning. His lips left hers to devour her neck, pulling down her dress to expose the smooth skin of her should, nipping and kissing as she sighed and whimpered. For once, he did not think of revenge, or brood on his wrongs. In this moment, all that mattered was the mindless, boundless heat between them. Their bodies were pressed tight together, as if they couldn't get close enough, and somewhere along the line she had managed to wind her slender arms around him …

He broke the kiss, eliciting a moan of protest from her. "Come on then," he growled, grabbing her hand and heading for the stairs, her bedroom. Half-swooning, her progress was too slow for him, and he impatiently scooped her up and carried her the rest of the way.

TBC … if you like it?