An alternate ending to Sweeney Todd. Sweeney/Lovett. One-shot
(insert disclaimer here)
She felt his hand on her back, the icy digits pressing hard (a bit too hard) into her flesh. She felt the air against her face as he spun her 'round the room. She felt the fire at her back…
"No, Mr. T!" she cried. There was murder in his eyes. She's seen it there enough times in the past to recognize it now.
She was good as dead, she was sure of it. Won't be long now. He moved to push her into her own oven (how ironic!) as she whispered, "You'll be all alone again." She wasn't pleading for her own life; she was mourning his. For a brief moment she found this laughable, her wretched heart breaking for her soon-to-be murderer. Of course this was no time for laughing. She closed her eyes tight and waited. And waited. Why wasn't she hot? Why didn't it hurt?
Why hadn't he killed her?
She gingerly opened her eyes. Sweeney Todd stood still, his eyes on Lucy's still-warm body. Mrs. Lovett was afraid to move, afraid to speak (she was even afraid to breathe, what with the near-death experience and all).
"You should have told me," he said finally. She nodded her agreement, though she was fairly certain, despite his nearly killing her, that given the chance she'd have done it all the same. "I killed her," he said, barely above a whimper.
"Now, Mr. T," she spoke, cautiously placing a palm on his shoulder. When he didn't flinch she continued. "You didn't kill her, love. She was already dead. She died the day that rotten judge sent you away. You just put her out of her misery. Poor thing."
He seemed to take some measure of comfort in this, and turned away from the yellow-haired corpse.
"You were right before. I'd forgotten what she looked like." She waved her hand as if to dismiss some foolish thought (truth was, she didn't think it foolish at all; she knew she'd been right all along).
"Come now, love," she said, forcefully taking his hand. "We must go. No doubt Toby's run his mouth all over town about us." She swallowed the lump that formed as she mentioned the boy's name.
"And where, my dear Mrs. Lovett, shall we go?" She knew she should ignore that he'd called her 'my dear', it had never meant much before. But her heart did a little flip in spite of her.
"Wherever you like love." She smiled, before adding, "Perhaps someplace by the sea."
"No," he protested. She tried (and failed) to hide the disappointment in her eyes. Perhaps he saw this, because he continued, "Not yet, sweet woman. Let her body cool first, before I indulge such plans."
"Of course Mr. Todd," she said as she led him up the stairs. "Take all the time you need."