title Rationalization

author pinkeop

summary After a while, you start making up excuses for your actions.

authors note A pretty powerful ( I think ) one shot that I wrote today during school. Finished it there, actually. It's shorter than most of my one shots, but I think it'll tide you fellas over for a while, what say you?

Review! Review! Love!

You're the bestest.

Love!

Pink Elephants on Parade

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Rationalization

She only lied because she loved him.

Mrs. Lovett felt the anxiety creep up her throat every time she saw poor, bent over Lucy hobbling along the cobble-stones, begging for alms and pennies. Her greatest fear was Mr. Todd coming to the realization that his wife- or the ghost and former shell of his wife -was still alive. That was the very last thing the baker wanted for her barber. If he were to find out that his once beloved, beautiful, eloquent Lucy was no more than a common begger, lifting her skirts for just a few pennies... It would rip him apart, Mrs. Lovett reasoned. It would kill him inside to know that. Lucy wouldn't even remember his face, for the once beautiful barber's wife hardly remembered who she was. It would do him no good, Mrs. Lovett always told herself. He desreved much more than what his Lucy would ever be bale to give him. Mrs. Lovett took good care of him. Washed his blood stained linins, cooked the meals he never ate. Washed the floors free of blood after every messy customer. Chopped and sliced and gutted and cooked thsoe damn pies. Desensitized, thats waht she was. Hopelessly devoted to him, that's what she was. She only lied because she knew what hell he had returned from. Because she wanted to protect him. The grief at the thought of his dead Lucy- at peace in his mind -paled in comparison at the grief that he would feel should he know her real fate.

She only lied because she loved him.

If he ever found out she had no doubt of what her fate would be. She had resigned to it, in fact! Death was what awaited her blackened soul should her lovely Mr. Todd figure out her lie. She thought about it almost every day that she saw Lucy outside her shop, making her normal rounds, asking for alms and coins and offering herself for a poke.

But, she only lied because she loved him.

She didn't feel guilt very often, not really, because the way Mrs. Lovett saw it, she was doing the right thing in keeping her barber in the dark. But there were the days that Mrs. Lovett found herself writhing in guilt. Few and far apart, but they were there.

It was a hot summer afternoon and the bell chimed at Saint Durstun's and the temple-bloods were all flowing in for the lunch rush. Mrs. Lovett was chipper and ready, serving pies and chattering lightly. Toby ran at her heels, gathering tips and pouring ale and serving pies. The lunch rush never lasted very long, and Mrs. Lovett figured that Toby could handle whatever needed to be done, as plenty of hot pies had been brought up from the bakehouse already. As per usual, Mrs. Lovett had prepared the barber some soup and banana bread and at a short lull, trumped up the stairs to bring Mr. Todd his lunch. Not that he ever ate if she wasn't forcing it down his throat, much to his loudly voiced complaints. With the tray hovering against her hip, the baker made her way up those steps, glancing over her shoulder to make sure all was well below before opening the shop door. Mr. Todd turned halfway, a smug smile already plastered on his lips- but when he saw it was only his baker, the smile vanished.

"Wot you want?" the man snarled. Mrs. Lovett managed to snort in distaste.

"Brought yeh up some lunch, love," she said hotly, setting the tray on the table by the vanity. Her hands went to her hips and she tilted her head. "Mr. T," she asked curiously. Something was off about today. He hadn't been pacing, and well... "Can I ask yeh somethin'?"

The man turned away, shrugging. "Wot?"

Mrs. Lovett bit her lip slightly. "Well, I know that it's been a bit of a slow day an' all... an' I know yeh has a bit of a pattern... but, I sees six sirs come up 'ere, Mr. T, an' I sees six sirs come back down..." she wrung her hands around her apron, looking for signs of hostility. the man didn't change.

"Juss wonderin' if somethin' was wrong, Mr. T," Mrs. Lovett murmured, figuring that she wasn't going to get a proper response.

Mr. Todd turned to look at her, his expression so sharply pained that it threw the baker for a loop.

"Did my Lucy suffer, Mrs. Lovett?" Mr. Todd finally questioned, his brows knit together in the middle of his forehead. The guilt ate and lapped at the baker's heart. She looked down. It wasn't many times that the man would ask about Lucy. But every time she had to stop herself from telling him the truth. Should he know, what was left of his world would fall apart. "I think about this inside, Mrs. Lovett," the barber said when she didn't respond. "Did my Lucy suffer?"

Mrs. Lovett shook her head.

"I couldn't say, Mr. T. Albert called upon the neighbors when she poisons herself, an' they hailed a coach an' she was taken to the hospital. I never 'eard from yeh Lucy again." She made point not to over emphasize any one word. She wasn't lying, not really. She was sure he couldn't hardly remember what his Lucy looked like. But his Lucy had been dead the moment the arsenic touched her lips. Pity she couldn't have just swallowed some lye! Damn his Lucy.

Mr. Todd's face looked hurt, but not nearly as much as it had when she first told him of his wife's "demise". He nodded his head weakly and looked back to the window. "I trust you did everything to stop here, as you said," the man whispered. Mrs. Lovett's face twisted into a pained expression.

"I did," Mrs. Lovett replied. "Everything short of bludgering her meself. I tried, Mr. Todd. I tried." she squeezed her eyes shut and bit her lip. She'd never been sore with Lucy on a personal level- not enough to wish her dead. Perhaps jealous, yes, but after Benjamin was taken away, she was all Lucy had left other than her year old daughter. And she had tried, for Johanna, for Mr. Barker, to keep Lucy from taking that poison. She even hit it, tucked it into her skirts, but still the woman had gotten her niave, selfish little paws on the tiny bottle and downed it, chasing it with enough gin and brandy to set Toby into hibernation.

When she opened her eyes the baker felt Mr. Todd's hand touching her shoulder ever so lightly. She looked up at him, breathless. The barber shook his head. "Your tried," he said stiffly, awkwardly, not used to consolation. "That's all Benjamin Barker asked for."

Mrs. Lovetted covered his hand with her own. It was big and cold under her small, frail, pale, warm fingers. "What about Sweeney Todd?"

Mr. Todd chuckled darkly. "all he asks for is that his baker get back to her customers," he said, almost fondly, menuvering her gently towards the door. Mrs. Lovett smiled up at him.

"'Is baker be wantin' 'im to eat 'is lunch," she scolded.

"Anything you say," the man purred, pushing the small of her back until she was outside of his shop- but he left the door open to catch a breeze on the air as he retreated back inside to continue whatever thoughts had plauged him. Mrs. Lovett didn't linger. No, she went right back to work, as her barber requested. It was wrong. I twas evil. It was black hearted and cruel and vicious and vile. It was selfish and greedy. I twas the only thing that weighed heavy on her heart in times so hard.

But, she only lied because she loved him.