Author's Note: So I was looking back at my other ST stories (stupid standardized tests…if you finish early you just sit there and I re-read a part where Mrs. Lovett says, "my son" when she's talking about Toby. And I thought, Sure she says that he's her son, but what did she do when he started calling her mum? Oh and part of this fic was inspired by an interview with Edward Sanders (-sighs- AKA Toby) when he talks about working with Helena Bonham Carter (AKA Mrs. Lovett). He said that on the set Helena was very motherly towards him. Haha, I love Edward Sanders. And he's my age too, which is ten times better. Now my parents won't get mad at me when I say I like him 'cause he's my age. Usually they get mad 'cause I like celebrities that are old enough to be my dad (a good example would be the fabulous Johnny Depp…I'm 14, going to be 15 in two months, and he's 44, going to be 45 in three months). This is also from Mrs. Lovett's point of view. Anyways, enough of my long Author's Note. Read and review! Enjoy!
The long black dress swayed back and forth as she moved. The tail of her old, almost ratty by now, dress trailed behind her on the ground. Mrs. Lovett walked over to the table where Toby was sitting. "D'you want more gin, darling?" she asked gently. Mrs. Lovett bent down and looked at him.
"No, ma'am. I'm fine," he replied, handing Mrs. Lovett the now empty bottle.
Nellie took the bottle and stood up. "Tell me if ya need anythin'. I'm goin' ta be in the parlor. Savvy?" she said.
Toby nodded. "Yes, ma'am. O'course."
"I want ta make you feel at home. Perlease, darlin'. Come an' get me."
"O'course ma'am."
Mrs. Lovett smiled at the young boy and then walked out of the shop. She walked into the parlor and sat on the couch. Nellie closed her eyes and sighed as many thoughts entered her mind.
Th' boy is a fine boy. 'E has good manners, he does. Poor thing though. Being in a workhouse an' then 'aving ta be wit' that awful Pirelli. Thank goodness Mr. T. killed th' man. If he didn't kill Pirelli Toby would still be with 'im. Poor boy. Th' boy has been through so much, and 'e's so young. Only eleven 'e is. Thank the Lord me and Mr. T. 'ave him now.
Nellie was abruptly yanked from her thoughts when Mr. Todd began to pace above her.
Tha' man ne'er stops pacin', does he? she thought, glancing at the ceiling. As she listened more closely though, she realized that he had a customer.
"Ah, fresh meat," she murmured, grinning. Then Nellie closed her eyes and listened to the murder that was going to happen upstairs.
The sound of people being killed was natural now. Whenever Nellie would actually listen to her beloved kill, it was…nice. Almost…comforting. Mrs. Lovett knew that Toby had heard a few of the murders because when she wasn't listening she had heard them. But the lad never did ask. Which was good for her and Mr. T. After a few minutes of scuffling from upstairs, Mrs. Lovett finally heard the dead man hit the basement floor.
Unfortunately Toby heard the dead man hit the basement floor also. Mrs. Lovett heard him screaming for her. "Ma'am! Ma'am!" he called.
Nellie stood up and quickly rushed back into the shop. "Wot is it? Wot's wrong, darling?"
"I 'eard somethin' hit the floor. In th' basement. Wot was it, ma'am?"
"Somethin' just fell down, Toby. I'm sure o' it. Don't worry."
He sighed and then looked up at Mrs. Lovett. He nodded and then said, "I won't worry then. Thank you, Mum."
Mrs. Lovett looked down at him, surprised. She smiled slightly and then said, "Wot did ya jus' call me, love?"
Toby looked at her slight confused. Then he said, "Mum. I called you mum."
Mrs. Lovett's heart soared with delight. "You see me as yer mum?" she asked, smiling from ear to ear.
He shrugged. "Well, yeah. I ne'er had a mum. I always lived in tha' awful work'ouse until Signor Pirelli came and too me wit' him," Toby explained. Then he quickly asked, "Can I call you mum?"
"O'course, darling," Mrs. Lovett said, bending down. She looked at Toby as thoughts raced through her mind.
He sees me as his mum. Aw, the boy is too sweet. Poor thing. Ne'er knowin' his parents. Tha' must be hard on him. But I've always wanted a child. Albert ne'er wanted children though.
"Mum?"
Mrs. Lovett blinked and looked at Toby. "Wot, darling?"
"You had a strange look on yer face."
"Don't worry, love. I was jus' thinking."
He nodded. "Yes, Mum. I won't worry."
Nellie smiled even more when he called her mum. She then reached over and embraced the boy. Toby hugged her back and rested his head on her shoulder. Mrs. Lovett kissed his cheek softly. When the pair pulled away, Toby looked at Mrs. Lovett.
"Mum, can I 'ave another pie perlease?"
Nellie stood up and nodded. "Yes, darling," she said, heading towards the basement. As she walked she smiled to herself. Mrs. Lovett finally had a child. She had a son.