Note: This is before he started killing people, but after The Contest. Enjoy!
Mrs. Mooney's Pie Shop
Clunk Clunk Clunk
"My, these stairs are exhausting to climb up and down all the time," mutters Mrs. Lovett, climbing up the stairs holding a tray of food, "I don't know why he doesn't come down himself. Always brooding away-Oh!"
She had tried to step up on the last step, but her foot caught on the hem of her dress. She glances around herself quickly-no, no one in sight. Relief courses through her veins as well as profound embarrassment. It's hardly acceptable for a lady to trip up unfamiliar stairs, but these stairs she knows like the back her hand. Completely unacceptable! It simply won't do! Mr. Todd should come down to feed himself, instead of making a lady come up. Any woman would agree, any man, too, for that matter.
Holding the tray in one hand, she opens the door and her eyes take pity on the sight. He is sitting in his chair, brooding as always, but there's a sad glint in his eyes, eyes that are moist. He doesn't even notice that she's there.
He's not any man, and feeling guilt pound her stomach, she realizes that she isn't any woman. Together, they're one of a kind.
"Mr. T.," she says softly, "I have your dinner." His expression does not change, but his eyes flicker to her face and back. He gives no other indication that he's heard her.
"Don't worry, Mr. T., it's not my pies," she says in hopes of light humor.
Much to her surprise, it works; Mr. Todd smiles quickly and finally gives her his full attention.
"You hungry, sir?" she asks. He simply nods; his face has already returned back to its usual somber, brooding stare, but this time it lacks the sadness that Mrs. Lovett had seen earlier.
He starts picking at bread on his plate, popping little pieces in his mouth. Mrs. Lovett watches happily.
"Bet that feels better, Mr. T.," she says, "You haven't eaten a single morsel all day. Sitting up here, brooding all the time," she pauses, "Do you want to know what I did today?"
He eats the bread more heartily and nods while chewing. He is very hungry and shows his appreciation to Mrs. Lovett by eating well.
"I went out to buy some meat at the market."
He purposely changes his facial expression from somber and indifferent to curious and interested. This represents a difficult task because he is usually never interested and curious, and especially since he is hungry and he's trying to politely eat as fast as he can.
"Meat is so expensive these days," says Mrs. Lovett recognizing the change of expression, "I saw Mrs. Mooney today at the market."
Mr. Todd swallows hard and chokes out, "Mrs. Mooney? The one with the pie shop?" He simply cannot not ask. Whenever he listens to Mrs. Lovett talk about her shop, she always utters monotonous complaints about the woman. According to Mrs. Lovett, the woman steals the neighbors' cats and bakes them into her pies. The question he meant to ask but couldn't because he was on the verge of choking is 'Why is Mrs. Mooney at the meat shop?'
"Yes," mutters Mrs. Lovett darkly. "That horrid woman!"
Mr. Todd doesn't say anything; he simply chews his food.
"Aren't you going to ask why?"
Still chewing, Mr. Todd nods. He's feeling particularly grateful for the rather large dinner.
She sighs, but continues, "She has some nerve! She came to the meat shop today to buy some meat!" A glance to Mr. Todd reveals that she's quickly losing her one-man audience. "She walks to me and asks me about my shop." Another glance reveals that her audience is almost back to brooding. "She knows how badly my shop is doing and she still asks me. She then asks 'Why don't you buy some meat, deary? I know you need some for your meat shop.' Oh, I wish I could blackmail her."
"Why don't you?" asks Mr. Todd, disinterested and still eating.
"No proof, dear."
He shrugs, chewing now.
"You know how it all started?" He looks up, confused. Mrs. Lovett is pleased; he isn't brooding…yet. "How Mrs. Mooney started skinning pussy cats?"
He shakes his head slowly.
"I'll tell ye then, Mr. T."
Mrs. Lovett sat on her blanket in the park, enjoying the warm breezes from the distant shore. She listened to the birds' songs and wondered how can the birds be so cheery. She had just opened up a meat pie shop Mrs. Lovett's Meat Pies and so far there had been little success.
"Hmm, I wonder how other women manage it," she thought aloud, "Maybe if the shop is successful I can go by the sea…"
"May I join you, ma'am?" asked a new voice. Mrs. Lovett looked up. It's a woman. Though her hair was brown, Mrs. Lovett could pick out some gray hairs. The face, however, didn't look much older than Mrs. Lovett herself.
"I don't believe we've met," said Mrs. Lovett.
"I believe I know you; you're Mrs. Lovett on Fleet Street," said the woman, "And I'm Mrs. Mooney on Charles Street. I own a pie shop."
"Oh, what a coincidence! I happen to own one myself," said Mrs. Lovett, excited at meeting another woman pie shop owner. "Meat pies, actually."
"Myself as well."
"I just started," said Mrs. Lovett, "About a week ago."
"Busy?"
"No, not quite," confessed Mrs. Lovett. "How 'bout you, Mrs. Mooney? When did you start?"
"About three months ago," answered Mrs. Mooney. "I'm doing alright."
"Could be better, maybe?" guessed Mrs. Lovett. Mrs. Mooney simply nodded.
"Fancy a walk?" asked Mrs. Mooney.
"Sure; sounds like a good idea." Mrs. Lovett picked up and folded her blanket. "Let's go then?"
"Right," said Mrs. Mooney.
They walked toward London, leaving the green grass behind only to approach the rather oppressing city. Mrs. Mooney suddenly walked up an alley. Mrs. Lovett, not wishing to be left behind, quickly followed. After all, they were having a nice little chat during their stroll.
"Mrs. Lovett," said Mrs. Mooney suddenly.
"Yes?"
Meow
"Meat is hard to get," she said.
"Oh, I know, Mrs. Mooney," said Mrs. Lovett, "The meat in my pies isn't even enough to fill a pie fit for a dog."
Meow
"Bloody cats," commented Mrs. Lovett.
Meow
At that Mrs. Mooney had to laugh.
"This alley seems to be full of them, don't you agree, Mrs. Mooney?"
Mrs. Mooney nodded.
Meow
"Bloody felines. I wouldn't mind baking them into a pie," muttered Mrs. Lovett.
"Ha, real cheap, too," said Mrs. Mooney.
"But who would eat it?" asked Mrs. Lovett.
"I wonder…"
Meow
"You're mad," said Mrs. Lovett, "Alley cats are hardly the proper meat."
"You would, too," replied Mrs. Mooney, "You're brand new at this, darling. Wait a week or two."
"I've been open a week. I know what it's like to have no customers. Just not alley cats."
"Oh?"
"You don't know where they've been," justified Mrs. Lovett.
"I see, I see. You propose to buy cats?"
Meow
"Of course not!"
"It's an idea."
"You fancy this idea?" asked Mrs. Lovett.
"Cats into meat pies…Sounds about right."
"Cats?"
"It doesn't matter where I get them from."
"Cats, Mrs. Mooney?"
"It's meat," said Mrs. Mooney shrugging.
"True, it was my idea."
Meow
"Pardon me?"
"I was the one who had first mentioned baking cats into pies," said Mrs. Lovett.
"No ma'am."
"What?" asked Mrs. Lovett aghast.
"Not you, deary."
"What are you talking about?"
Meow
"I thought of it first," said Mrs. Mooney, "Obviously, you do not wish to be partners," ("What?") "So I must take my idea into my own hands…"
"It was not your idea!"
"Cats probably taste better than the meat at the market anyway."
"Mrs. Mooney, I must insist-"
"Good bye, Mrs. Lovett! This has been an enlightening conversation!" said Mrs. Mooney cheerfully.
"WHAT? You cannot simply leave! It was my idea!" But Mrs. Mooney had already walked ahead. She bent over a bit and then back up holding what appeared to be cat and walked swiftly out sight, leaving a rather angry Mrs. Lovett fuming in the alley. Later, she would learn that Mrs. Mooney not only cleans the alley of cats, but also steals the neighbors' as well.
"Oh."
"Oh?" echoes Mrs. Lovett, "Are you brooding again?"
"Hardly surprising that it was your idea," says Mr. Todd contently. He had finished his meal during her story.
It isn't the response she expected, but she's surprised that he isn't brooding. "I'm glad you enjoyed my tale."
He nods, "Thank you…for the dinner."
She sighs, "You men are all the same. Always thinking about food!" His eyebrows crease in confusion to her outburst. "How silly of me," says Mrs. Lovett quietly, "I'm sorry. You haven't eaten all day long."
He shrugs and then asks, "Does this Mrs. Mooney always have this effect on you?"
"Only when she talks to me about meat."
"I see."
"It's always an exhausting excursion at the market."
There's no response.
"Mr. Todd?"
Nothing.
"Mr. Todd?" She looks closer at his face and sees his characteristic somber, brooding stare. "You're brooding again." He confirms her statement by continuing to ignore her and stare at nothing. She sighs and picks up the food tray muttering "Useless lump."
Just as she's about to exit (picking up the hem of her dress) she looks at him and hopes that at the very least the food helps his thoughts be happier.
Little does she know it isn't only the food that helps brighten his broodings.
Author's comments:
I did not expect this to be four pages long, nor did I expect the little Todd/Lovett not even fluff at the end. I'm not even a fan of Todd/Lovett. They make a cute pair, but not lovers, if that makes sense.
I originally thought of this idea to try my hand at humor…You readers must tell me how that went, because after excessive editing, I cease to find anything humorous. I know Mrs. Lovett was a bit OOC at the end (that was part of my attempt at humor). If it happens, it happens.
I love writing Mr. Todd brooding in the beginning. That was fun. I believe I'll write more in the future.
POLLS:
If you liked this one-shot, there's a poll on my profile asking about different ideas for a Sweeney Todd fanfic. The poll is which out of the following should I write: Constable on Fleet Street, Like Father Like Daughter, and Mr. Todd's Dream. Full details inside my profile. I beg of you, please go check it out.
Please review. I want to know what you liked, disliked and what could be improved. Thank you!