I do not own Sweeney Todd.
It was eleven o' clock at night in London; the stars in the sky didn't have a hope to shine as much as the lanterns that were lit below. Drunks were staggering around aimlessly, looking for a good place to retch. As they did so, hunching over a barrel or something of that sort, beggars would surreptitiously take a few coins from their pocket. It was not a good time to be wandering, much less getting drunk; although the latter was a common occurrence these days.
Sweeney Todd was pacing back and forth, his boots clunking as he stepped across the creaky floorboards. He took occasional glances out the window, sneering at the sight of his fellow Londoners. He stopped his pacing and rested his hand on the pane above his head, letting his other arm hang down at his side.
The bell above his door let out a small jingle as somebody entered. Quiet footsteps could be heard, followed by a familiar voice.
"Mr. T?"
What did she want at this hour?
There was a long silence; Sweeney could only hear sound of his own breathing.
"Mr. Todd."
He sighed as he realized that she wanted his full attention, otherwise she would have simply continued without his permission. Swallowing, he turned on his heel to see what she wanted.
There she stood in a white nightgown, her pale skin almost matching it's color. It appeared she was cold, as she shivered slightly at the door of his shop. She also seemed to be wet, or at least her hair did. Her hair.
It was not put up in it's usual fashion. In fact, it wasn't up at all. Long strands of it fell down all around her pale face, almost reaching all the way to her waist. The red curls were wet with water, which made them shimmer in the glow of the candlelight.
"Evenin', dear," she said.
He simply stared at her, not sure what to say, or whether or not he even wanted to say anything. He had never seen her with her hair down, but it really wasn't of enough importance to comment on.
His lips parted. "What?" He asked it as though it wasn't strange to have his partner in crime visiting him late at night with her hair dripping all over his floor.
"Well… I… washed my hair out real well."
"I see that." He glanced down as a drop of water landed on the wood of the floor.
"Well, ya see, love… my hair's always a bloody rat's nest, an' I figured it was time t' take care o' tha'." She looked at him. "Yer' a barber, ain't ya?"
He understood now. "No."
"Oh, please, Mr. T! I got it all washed an' everything! All I want is for it t' be a lil' shorter."
"Shorter?" He couldn't imagine that.
"Well… not short. Just short enough s' that it's easier t' fix up in th' mornin'."
She looked at him hopefully and bit her lip. Her expression was not much different from that of a lost pup's. She continued to stare at him until he spoke.
"Fine."
She smiled and giddily made her way over to the chair, careful to avoid the pedal that could send her down to the bake house, and sat herself down.
"Thank you, love!"
He nearly rolled his eyes at her excited behavior and took a look at what he had to work with. He felt through her hair with his fingers and felt several tangled snarls. Nellie blushed.
"Perhaps I shoulda' brushed through it more thoroughly…"
He sighed and retrieved a comb, making sure to remove any left over hairs from his earlier customers. He began combing through and she winced whenever a particular tangle decided to be stubborn.
She had expected this to be a bit more pleasant.
He glared at a certain little knot that refused to go away. He combed at it a little harder. He muttered a few things under his breath that nearly made Nellie blush.
"Love, I think you can just leave that one."
He shook his head and continued to tug at it.
"Really, it's gettin' more than a bit painful."
He let out a growl and tightened both hands carefully around the comb.
"Mr. Todd!" She yelled it straight into his ear, hoping to get his attention.
He looked at her. "What?"
"I'll get this tangle myself. Can't very well 'ave ya tearin' it out like you was tryin' t' do…"
"Oh." He handed her the comb and went over to get the scissors.
She pulled the comb through the base of the tangle and made her way up gradually until it was gone. "There we are."
Sweeney combed through once again to be sure the absence of tangles was certain, then got to the cutting.
Nellie found it hard to sit straight with Mr. T so close to her. The very sight of him made her heart melt. He reached behind her ear for a few tucked away strands and touched her cheek in the process. She nearly gasped at the contact and hoped he didn't notice.
The sound of the scissors snipping was nothing compared to the sound of her heart beat. She could feel it pounding against her chest. He was simply cutting her hair and she could barely control herself.
In all of her bliss she hadn't noticed time go by. He was now finished, staring carefully at his handiwork. She suddenly felt quite exposed, only in a nightgown with her hanging all around her.
"How does it look, love?"
He blinked.
"Fine."
She was disappointed, but not surprised by the simple answer.
"Ya think it's too short?"
"No."
"Good…" She sat there awkwardly for a few moments. "I… I s'pose I'll just be leavin' then."
She stood from the chair and he walked back over to the window. When she found herself at the door, she stopped and swallowed. Slowly she turned and stepped quietly over to the barber.
"Mr. T," she whispered in his ear.
His body tensed as she placed her hand on his side. He glanced at her and she moved closer to him.
Without warning, she placed her lips on the corner of his mouth.
"Thanks for the haircut, dear." She let her hand linger on his side for a moment and then left, closing the door behind her.
When she was gone, Sweeney touched the corner of his mouth, furrowing his eyebrows.
"My pleasure, Mrs. Lovett."
So... what did you think? :)