Another cold morning in London. The gray sky loomed over the large city, giving it a look of darkness and despair. Chilling breezes wound around the buildings that overlooked the sidewalks, stirring up the filth that littered the damp streets. It looked like bad weather was on the horizons. Few were about, most choosing to stay home instead of braving the cold and potentially dangerous conditions without.
The brisk winds kicked up around the outside of the pie shop, nestled snug in the center of a busy street. It was still closed for the morning, its tenants still not yet fully awake. Old, the building offered little protection from the frigidity. A cold Mrs. Lovett, dressed in only her gray nightgown, stood before the smaller of her two ovens in the main entrance of her shop, trying to warm herself up.
"Hell, it's cold in here," she murmured to herself, turning around to get her backside warm as she glanced around. The shop was cleaner than it ever had been. Now that she had Toby to help her. She smiled. He was a good kid, and bright too. Did what he was told…unlike some. Fond of him, she was. The building gave a creak as it was hit with another burst of cold air, startling her out of her thoughts. "Best get to work early," she stated, grabbing her rolling pin from the counter and some dough from a large bowl. "So long as I'm up already."
She had hardly rolled out enough dough for a single pie before the creaking sound of footsteps drawing closer filled her ears. "Toby?" she called, without even looking up. "Come here, love, there's something I'd like you to do for me." The footsteps grew closer, but there was no reply. They came to a stop right before her. She looked up—it was Sweeney Todd.
"Oh!" she exclaimed, surprise evident on her face. "Mr. Todd! You scared me!" She paused, confused. "What are you doing downstairs so early? I didn't even hear you come down."
He did not answer her question directly. "How long have you been out of bed, Mrs. Lovett?" he asked, looking at her intensely. There was something strange in his eyes that she had never seen before. It was a bit unsettling. She put her rolling pin back on the counter.
"I dunno. An hour, maybe." Her eyes squinted as she studied him. "There something wrong, Mr. Todd?"
He took a step closer. "Would you mind going back?" His voice was smooth and even, his eyes glittering.
Mrs. Lovett took a moment to fully comprehend what he was asking. However, even when she did come to a sudden realization, she couldn't believe she had heard him correctly. "What…what are you talking about, Mr. Todd?" Her voice, on the contrary of his, was quiet and hesitant. He smirked at her, and advanced more quickly, backing her up against the wall.
"Would you mind going back to bed with me, Mrs. Lovett?" He restated the question, whispering it in her ear, making her shiver as the warmth of his breath pushed against her skin. She inhaled, the air quivering in her throat. Her heart was pounding. "It gets lonely up in the barbershop all day, all night. I need someone pretty to satisfy me." His eyes locked onto hers. "And I've always fancied you pretty, Mrs. Lovett."
"…Pretty, Mr. Todd?" she asked, her mind racing. "But…I thought your wife—"
"What wife!?" Sweeney exclaimed, his smile wide. "I no longer have a wife, Mrs. Lovett, as you can plainly see. Now come on…answer my question."
"Um…um…" she stuttered. She could hardly remember how to speak. Sweeney merely grinned at her, then grabbed her by the arm and began pulling her towards her bedroom. She didn't fight, and allowed him to drag her however he wanted. She would have allowed him to do just about anything at that moment.
However, as she passed the living room she briefly regained her bearings. "Wait, Mr. Todd," she said suddenly. He paused, letting go of her arm. "Let me make sure the boy's still asleep." The last thing she wanted was him walking in and ruining what was about to be the moment of her dreams. Luckily, when she peered onto the couch she saw him sleeping like a log, snoring quietly. A motherly look fell over her face. Gently, she brushed some hair off his cheek before rushing back to the matter at hand. "He's knocked out," she whispered. "He won't be up for a bit."
"Good," smiled Sweeney, "because this might take a while." Mrs. Lovett's body grew hot at this statement, and she melted at his touch as he took her arm once more and pushed her into her own room, closing the door behind him. Now she sat down on the corner of her bed and shook her head, realizing what she was about to do. Was intercourse out of wedlock even legal? What in the world might happen if he were to impregnate her? She looked up at him. He was pulling his gloves and vest off.
"Mr. Todd…"
"Call me Sweeney, love."
"Sweeney…" But before she had any time to voice a concern, he had taken her in his arms, laying her down below him on the bed and brushing her neck with his lips. His breath was so warm…she lost herself and whimpered gently as his tongue touched her pale skin. "Sweeney…" she repeated, this time in more of a moan. He pulled away briefly to yank off his white shirt. She suddenly realized again how cold it was, and shuddered, wrapping her arms around herself.
"Come here," he said quietly, his shirt now removed. Mrs. Lovett approached him, her eyes trained on his white, chiseled chest. Gently, he put his arms around her and began to pull off her nightgown, unbuttoning the back and slipping her arms through the sleeves. The gray fabric fell to the floor, along with the remaining warmth. She shivered, her skin goose-pimpled—not just from the cold, but from the idea of having Sweeney Todd all to herself.
Despite the cold, though, she was quite warm internally, particularly in the area below her torso. She had never been so turned on in her life. "Oh, Sweeney," she whispered, watching as he pulled off his pants. Now only their undergarments stood in the way of their bare bodies. "I can't tell you how long I've waited for this."
"I know, my love, I know," he replied, pushing her down onto the bed again. He kissed her collarbone as she moaned for him, covering all the skin that wasn't hidden by her bodice. Then, growing impatient, he unclasped the bodice and threw it on the floor. Her bare chest hit the bitter air, her teeth chattered uncomfortably. He quickly soothed her by pressing himself on top of her, their faces close to one another.
"Take me, Sweeney," Mrs. Lovett whispered, kissing her beloved on his lips. He discarded his trousers, then brushed his warm hand against her stomach before pulling off her panties. She was more than ready for him. He got himself into position, gripping the bed. She could feel him at her entrance. Quickly she inhaled, breathing heavily, ready to take him in. "Take me!" she said again, louder this time, her chest heaving. She was dizzy with desire; sensual, sexual desire. She watched him as he reared back, ready to push forward, and then, with a thrust—
"Oh!" Mrs. Lovett woke with a start, her chest heaving up and down, her body trembling. It was early morning, and cold. She glanced around. The room was empty, save for her. Her breathing slowed as she realized, with considerable disappointment, that she had just been dreaming. She reached a hand up to her forehead, which was beaded with sweat. The bed sheets were all askew. She felt incredibly aroused. A tiny, regretful moan touched her lips, and she fell back against her mattress, her eyes studying the ceiling, trying to recall every bit of that wonderful, marvelous dream…
…But, alas, it was just a dream. And, though she tried to trick herself to believe otherwise, as long as a scrap of memory was still alive in her love's heart, it was a dream that could not come true. This disheartened her for a moment. But, deciding there was no use in just lying around, she got up out of her bed, tried to tidy up a little, and then tip-toed into the kitchen to warm up a bit by the oven.
She hadn't been there for two seconds before the familiar sound of footsteps drawing closer filled her ears. "Mr. Todd?" she called, quickly looking up, hope in her expression. Disappointment filled her, however, when a sleepy-looking Tobias rounded the corner, yawning as he did so. She frowned.
"Just me, Ma'am," he said, a smile initially on his face. When he got one look at her dissatisfied expression, though, it turned to a frown of confusion. "Something wrong?"
With a groan of effort, Mrs. Lovett moved a large bowl full of dough from one countertop to the other. "Something always is, my love," she murmured, sprinkling flour onto her working space. "Something always is."