A/N: So yeah...first Sweeney Todd fanfiction I've written, and I haven't written a fanfic since like two years ago, lol. So constructive criticism is appreciated! :D But rudeness is not. D:
Also, none of the lovably tragic, deliciously creepy, or wonderfully horrible characters of Sweeney Todd belong to me. They are, in fact, creations of the original mind of Stephen Sondheim.
Now that that's out of the way...LET US BEGIN!
Sweeney paced his room as he thought about the events that preceded that very moment. It had been a very long day, no debating that. He had killed Pirelli, almost killed the Judge save for that blasted sailor, and conjured up a deliciously evil idea with his landlady. His mind was racing, his blood pounding, and he found that he couldn't sit still for one second. He had done a million things to try and calm himself; unfolded each one of his razors, watched them glint in the moonlight, refolded them, and repeated the process about a dozen times; built his reclining chair, took it apart again, and rebuilt it just to make sure it was working properly, and countless other things. It was nearly 2 am, but Sweeney had not gotten one wink of sleep.
It wasn't that something was troubling Sweeney, but more that something was exciting him. The idea of their newly concocted plan brought Sweeney to the edge of his seat with anticipation. It was something to distract himself from the Judge and something to let his anger out on. This new, fresh, intoxicating plan excited Sweeney beyond all the levels of excitement he had felt in many years. He felt strange, almost aroused. But not happy. Never happy. Still, he felt as if he couldn't hold in all of his excitement for long.
A thought crossed Sweeney's mind, but as soon as he thought it he scolded himself. How could he think something so horrid? So disgusting? So perverse? But the thought wouldn't go away. It had intruded on his mind and now that it had taken up residence, it wasn't leaving. It was like a constant bell ringing in the back of his mind for hours on end. Ding, go to her room, dong, go to her room, ding, dong, ding, dong, go to her room...
But no! Sweeney wouldn't give in, wouldn't betray his wife. No matter how long she has been dead, he couldn't do that to his Lucy. His sweet, lovable, beautiful Lucy...
Finally, Sweeney couldn't take it anymore. If he didn't distract himself with something, he would surely crack.
ooooooooooooooooooo
Mrs. Lovett had just put on her night dress before she caught sight of herself in her small mirror. Her unruly mane of hair was down and looked worse than it usually did. She sighed. If this so called brilliant plan of hers worked, she would be finally able to do something about her hair. She twirled a lock of hair in her finger, trying to smooth out its frizz. Mrs. Lovett frowned at her pale complexion in the mirror before deciding she had degraded herself enough. She left her mirror and curled up in her tiny bed, thinking.
She thought about how different things would be now. How business might actually pick up for once. But most importantly, she thought about how Mr. Todd called her all those affectionate names. Love, pet, sweet, dear, they all repeated themselves inside her head. Maybe he didn't mean anything by them but it did comfort her to think Mr. Todd might be coming around to her. She thought about how maybe he was impressed by her wit and cleverness. How maybe he really meant it when he called her charming and practical...
Mrs. Lovett sighed. She would probably never know. Mr. Todd was probably up in his room, thinking about his dear old Lucy anyway. Mrs. Lovett scoffed. Why couldn't Mr. T think of me in that way?
Mrs. Lovett dozed off for a couple of hours before she was awoken again by a small sound. She blinked, trying to see in the darkness but to no avail. She shrugged. Probably just a critter she thought.
"Mrs. Lovett," said a whispered voice, low and husky. She recognized it as Mr. Todd's. His breath was warm on her skin, but it still gave her chills. "Care if I join you?"