The Twelve Days of Christmas
Day one: Snow
As he looked out of the wall length window of his tonsorial parlour, Sweeney Todd frowned. Something was… different about London today, and he could not for the life of him figure out what. With a scowl he realised that this… change had been gradually getting more evident as the days went by.
And still, he could not think of what it was.
The streets were still filthy, filled with rats and beggars, mud and prostitutes. The buildings were still grey, the only natural life being the filth that inhabited them and the parks - so cautiously designed it mocked Mother Nature simply through its own existence…
But the way the people of London were behaving…
It was almost as though they were human.
Sweeney was disturbed by this thought.
After all – if they did not deserve to die he couldn't very well killthem – could he?
No. Even he was above murder without reason.
Looking for an invariable, he turned his gaze to the ever grey sky above, and caught sight of something that made him pause: the first snow flake as it drifted gracefully in the chill breeze. More followed it, until the snow itself was a constant in the drab London landscape.
It had also jolted his memory. He knew what was causing London to change so dramatically…
Christmas.
"Mum! Look Mum- snow!" Toby said excitedly, rushing to the window and pressing his face against it to better see the swirling white flakes outside.
"Bless me, t'is it snowin' already? Christmas must be jus' roun' the corna' then!" Mrs Lovett said, moving to stand behind Toby.
"Twelve days Mum" Toby said, a faint tinge to his cheeks.
So what if he counted down? This was going to be his first real Christmas- and he just knew it was going to be better than he could imagine.
Mrs Lovett smiled; amused at the childlike quality he had taken on. Toby was aged beyond his years; living in the workhouse did that to you, she supposed. 'Poor dear' she thought, while aloud she said in an excited tone "Is tha' all?"
Toby nodded sheepishly.
"I'm sorry luv; my 'eads a lil vague. I shoulda remembered. We'll get crackin' on Christmas as soon as, alrigh'?"
Toby smiled brilliantly, and threw his arms around her waist in a quick hug, before turning back to the window. Mrs Lovett was shocked, but felt a smile tug at the corners of her mouth.
'He's a good lad…'
She too turned to the window.
They stood there, entranced by the delicateness of the world outside.
That was, until an idea struck Mrs Lovett.
She grinned.
"Aaaah!!!"
A scream jolted Sweeney from his thoughts as he stared out the window. He whipped around, just as another yell came from below.
Mrs Lovett!
He sprinted to his door and threw it open, withdrawing the razor he carried with him at all times as he went. He darted across the balcony and was halfway down the staircase before he even realised what he was doing. Laughter reached his ears, and he slowed as he flew down the precarious stairs. His eyes fell on a red cheeked Mrs Lovett and Toby, throwing snow at each other.
He stared, shock, anger and relief washing over him.
She was playing in the snow. Nothing's wrong. She's fine.
He shook this thought from him as he continued down the steps, carefully this time. It was a wonder he hadn't slipped and broken his neck; and it would be just his luck, too. He almost snorted at the thought of his obituary.
Sweeney Todd: the demon barber of Fleet Street, murderer of London's vermin, has died after an encounter with a slippery stair.
R.I.P
Mrs Lovett would never let him live that down. Speaking of Mrs Lovett, her voice rang through the empty courtyard, startling him from his thoughts.
"Mr T! What're you doin' out 'ere wif out a jacket?"
He stepped onto the ground at last (away from those damn stairs) and glared at his landlady.
"I am here, Mrs Lovett, because I heard you screaming."
"Oh." Mrs Lovett paused, holding back the smile that wanted to burst free (He'd been concerned!) "That'd be Toby's fault dear. Went an' put snow down the back of me dress 'e did!" She smiled at her adopted son, and sent him a wink.
Sweeney, however, scowled at the boy. "That was a stupid thing to do- she could get pneumonia, then where would we be!?"
Toby's eyes widened. "I- I'm sorry Sir, I didn't think 'bout tha'…"
Mrs Lovett was practically giddy at all the worry the two were showing her, but decided it had to stop. She bent down, and scooped up two handfuls of snow before coughing deliberately. Her two tenants whipped around to see her glaring playfully.
"If you two are done talkin' 'bout me like I wasn't 'ere; can we get back ta our figh'?"
And she flung the balls at them, snow exploding in their faces.
He froze.
Literally.
Did… did she really just-
The snow in his hair and the fact that his face was now tingling with cold confirmed the rather absurd thought that was now calmly buzzing around his head.
'She threw a snowball at me…'
He heard muffled giggling, and what had just happened fully sunk in.
'She is dead.
And her brat, too...'
Shaking the snow from his face, the first thing Sweeney saw was Toby, who was brushing snow from his shoulders. He did the first thing that came to mind, and pushed the boy over.
Toby's eyes widened and his mouth opened in a humorous 'O' shape as he stumbled and fell backwards, the snow breaking his fall with a muffled thump.
There was a ringing silence as Sweeney turned to his landlady with a vicious grin, mocking the smile that had frozen on her face. Her eyes searched his own, looking for the mercy she would not receive. They moved at the same time, Mrs Lovett wrenching up her skirts to allow her legs to move easier as she stumbled away from the murderous barber chasing her. She dashed (as much as one can do so under such circumstances) behind one of the tables kept outside for guests in nicer weather. He followed her, but she refused to move from the table, keeping it always safely between them as the chase continued.
They paused, briefly.
"Come now my pet, stop this nonsense." Sweeney said, refusing to acknowledge the fact that he was near panting. She shook her head, and he growled in frustration, jumping with one movement onto the table.
He had her!
"Stay where you are, Mrs Lovett!" he snarled, even as she backed away from him. She turned, and before he even thought of what he was doing -or its consequences- he had jumped.
There was a brief moment of shock at his foolhardy actions, even as he flew, before he collided with her, and the two of them were rolling in the snow, fighting (for what they had forgotten).
They stopped, Sweeney's hands pinning her shoulders to the ground, snow falling around them. Both were breathless, and after a moment of meeting her eyes, Sweeney smirked.
"And what do you say?"
Mrs Lovett rolled her eyes, but a smile was present as she sighed.
"Sorry Mr T."
Sweeney didn't answer, instead looking at her intently, his gaze skimming over her face even as his eyebrows slowly drew together in a thoughtful frown. Mrs Lovett tried to meet his eyes.
"Luv? I am sor-"
"Shut up." He muttered roughly, and she instantly fell quiet.
Her eyes were still a warm chocolate brown, still ringed by shadows, her eyelashes were still dark, her hair was -as ever- a mess of auburn curls, her skin was still the colour of porcelain…
'What was different?' he found himself asking.
Because there was, undeniably, something different about her.
Her eyes had more sparkle, her lashes and hair where flecked with snow, her cheeks were flushed from the cold…
He suddenly had the urge -the foolish, stupid, despicable, traitorous urge- to lean down and kiss her. And as he realised this, he also become conscious of the position they were in. His head was moving closer to hers, and her eyes were widening in . . . ?
In what?
Disgust? Shock? Anticipation?
He could feel her breath mingling with his, could smell her perfume…
His lips were mere centimetres away from hers when a single thought flashed across his mind.
Lucy hated the snow.
He jerked his head to the right, and his lips ended up by her ear. He paused for half a second.
"Tell me, Mrs Lovett… do you enjoy Christmas?"
Her voice was oddly strained when she answered.
"Yes, Mr T, I do… But you already knew that."
He pulled back, smirking.
"That I did, Nellie."
It took them both a second to realise what he had said. When he did, Sweeney pulled back sharply, and stood.
"Keep it down out here." He said gruffly, avoiding her eyes, before moving to return to his room. He was just at the foot of the steps when-
Thwump.
His shoulders tensed.
The thought that his landlady was mad had crossed his mind more than a few times; but none so prominently as just then. He turned to her, astounded by the audacious smile she was giving him.
"Sorry luv. Couldn't resist."
He held back a disbelieving laugh, and sneered, brushing the new patch of snow from his shoulder. His eyes lingered on her face a moment too long before he turned and made his way to his room in silence, leaving his landlady and her boy to play.
As he sat in his barbers' chair, listening to the sounds outside, watching the sky darken as the hours passed, many thoughts filled his mind.
She was different around Christmas…
Or, maybe… she was the same… and he was seeing different?
He briefly considered the close call, and her last words.
He wondered if he could use that as an excuse, if his foolish notions ever did get the best of him. He shook his head wryly at the thought, and closed his eyes; certain that he would never need to have an excuse ready… for that at least.
(Whatever that even was… he'd have to think over.. that… later…)
As the snow outside fell in a constant, haphazardly beautiful dance; Sweeney Todd slept peacefully. His slumber was void of the usual nightmares that plagued him… instead, he dreamt.
Sweeney smiled as slowly pulled his lips away from hers. His ebony eyes were mischievous as they stared into her dazed chocolate ones, and he held back a chuckle, settling instead for a smirk.
"Sorry, love. Couldn't resist."