Sweeney Todd sat in his parlor, brooding, as usual. He held the pictures of his wife and child in his left hand. "My Lucy...Johanna..." he whispered, kissing each of the photographs lightly. "Why did you suffer such a fate? That vile judge will burn in hell," he spat, anger bubbling up inside of him. When Sweeney looked at the mirror, he saw the judge's smirking face instead of his own reflection. Blind fury surged through his veins. "Die, you bastard! Die!" he roared as he lifted his "friend" out of his pocket and hurled it at the mirror, shattering it to pieces.
A smile spread across his face as the shard of glass flew through the room. He imagined life draining from the judge's eyes. "What a beautiful sight that would be," he muttered to himself. His euphoria faded away quickly as he remembered that the real judge was still alive and well, probably sending other innocent men away to prison or even sentencing them to death. He was filth. "I can't wait to slice your throat open." he hissed to the judge, though he knew the man was not there.
He shivered. Sweeney hadn't noticed the cold until now. The cold temperature was such a far cry from the blistering heat of Australia. He hadn't had enough time to readjust yet and his poorly insulated room was not helping at all. Sweeney strolled over to his bed. He scrunched his face up looking at his thin, dingy sheets, knowing they wouldn't do much good at all.
He sat down on his bed and pulled the cotton sheets over his body. As he suspected, they didn't do any good. Damn, it was cold up there. "I bet Mrs. Lovett's bed is warm." a voice in his head commented. Sweeney was shocked. "What's the meaning of this? Who the hell are you?" Sweeney replied. Mm...her bed probably was warm. He shook the thought quickly. "No, dammit! Lucy!" he exclaimed.
He scoffed. As if he'd go down to herroom. The very thought was preposterous. "Oh spare me. You know you want to do it. Besides, if her bed isn't warm, it surely will be when you go down there." the voice sneered. Sweeney almost blushed, but told himself not to. Sweeney Todd did not blush.
"Dammit! Shut up, you stupid voice! I'm not going down there. I'd rather freeze to death than go into the baker's bedroom." Sweeney hissed. The voice laughed. "I bet she looks beautiful while she's sleeping." it said. Where the hell was this irritating voice coming from? Why should he care what the baker looked like while she was awake, let alone sleeping? Sweeney tried to ignore the voice's constant pestering.
"You do care what she's doing"
"I don't."
"You do."
"I do not."
"You do! Don't you get it? I am you! If you didn't, I wouldn't be here."
"Shut up. I don't care.
"Stop denying it and go down there now."
"I won't."
"You will."
"If I do, will you shut up?"
"Certainly."
"I'll go."
"There's a good boy!"
"Oh, shut up."
Sweeney rolled his eyes and began to go downstairs. He opened the door to the pie shop. Damn. It was really warm in there. He entered the parlor where he saw Toby snoring and clutching an empty bottle of gin. "Little wretch." he muttered, walking by the settee and up to Mrs. Lovett's bedroom door. He gulped. "Do it. Open the door." the voice commanded.
Sweeney began to knock on the door. "Just open it!" the voice said again. "Stop telling me what to do!" Sweeney spat. He knocked again, louder this time. Suddenly, he heard shifting and a whine. "Toby, is that you? Did you have another nightmare? I can make you some tea again, love." she groaned, clearly still sleepy. She heard no response. "Toby? Toby, is that you love?" she asked again. "It's not Toby." Sweeney said.
Mrs. Lovett's heart raced. She knew that voice. Was that who she thought it was? Was Sweeney Todd truly outside her bedroom door and knocking to come in? She'd dreamt of this for so long. "Come in, love." she managed to choke out, her nerves nearly getting the best of her. The door swung open and there he stood, beautiful as ever. Mrs. Lovett sat up in her bed and stretched. "What do you need, Mr. T?" she asked sleepily.
"Well...I...uh..." he stuttered, slightly overwhelmed by seeing her in such little clothing. She looked at him curiously, forgetting about how thin her nightgown was. He still didn't respond. "Mr. T? What is it you need? Do you need clean shirts? I could wash 'em in the mornin'. I'm rather sleepy as of now, Mr. T." she said.
He could only stare at her. "I...I don't need my shirts washed, Mrs. Lovett." he replied. She waited expectantly, but no further explanation came. She put her head in her hands. "Mr. T, I'm rather tired right now. I know you're not the talkative type, but if you would please just tell me what you want so I can go back to sleep, I'd appreciate it greatly." she said, exasperated.
"Tell her you want her." the voice suggested. Sweeney shrugged the voice off, but it was true. Looking at her in her thin night gown did make him...excited to say the least. "Well, Mrs. Lovett. I'll showyou what I want." he said to her, approaching her bed. He still wasn't very sure what he was going to "show her" when he finally got to Mrs. Lovett's bed. "That's right." the voice laughed, quite pleased.
Her cheeks flushed as he walked closer to her. Oh God. Was he going to confess his love for her and then claim her as his own right then and there like she'd always dreamed? Oh, it was so close to her fantasy. The only difference so far was the fact that he was still wearing a shirt. She could fix that rather quickly, though. Her head was swimming with possibilities. He sat on the edge of her bed and pulled his shoes and jacket off.
Sweeney leaned in and tucked a stray hair behind her ear. She could feel his breath on her neck and she was certain that her heart was thundering loud enough to wake Toby. "Mr. T..." she murmured, her face burning up. "Shut up for once, Mrs. Lovett." he ordered, closing the distance between them. His lips covered hers in an instant, but were off nearly just as quickly.
He then leaned back on the bed and turned on his side to face her. "Well, lie down then." he said, closing his eyes. She did as he said and he pulled her body close to his chest. Mrs. Lovett gasped and then sighed contentedly. She was so happy she could barely even stand it.
The love of her life for the greater part of it was finally in her bed. Granted, he was not there for the reasons she'd hoped, but he was there nonetheless. She began to question it. What did he want from her anyway? Her curiosity overcame her and she broke the blissful silence in the room. "Mr. Todd...wh-why are you here in my room with me?" she inquired. "Mrs. Lovett, it's cold outside." he responded before drifting off to sleep with her in his arms. The voice was right. Her bed was warm.