"Breakfast, Mr. Todd," Mrs. Lovett announced as she entered the barbers shop. She put his tray on the chest by the door before nodding a goodbye, too worn out by the beadle's daily visits to futilely flirt with Sweeney.
"Mrs. Lovett?" Mr. Todd asked suddenly from his usual spot in front of the bay window.
Mrs. Lovett paused, her hand on the doorknob but didn't turn around. He's starting a conversation? Has he finally noticed me as more than his landlady? Could he possibly care for me? "Yes, Mr. T?"
"Come here a tick, my pet."
It was more of a demand than a request, even Mrs. Lovett couldn't deny that. But, Mrs. Lovett reasoned as she made her way over to him it's a step in the right direction. Far better than his usual 'Leave me.'
"He's been coming for several days, just after close, but he hasn't come up yet. Has he been coming to your shop? Has he said anything?
"No," Mrs. Lovett breathed, wide eyed. She started backing up as Sweeney pointed out the window at Beadle Bamford. "No!"
"It was just a question, you daft woman. No need to get all-" Sweeney turned around to find Mrs. Lovett backed against the far wall. "Mrs. Lovett?"
"No!" she clutched herself tightly as she slid down the wall and into a heap. "No!"
Sweeney approached her somewhat cautiously. "Mrs. Lovett, something wrong, pet?"
"No!" Mrs. Lovett screeched, shaking her head. "No, no, no, no, no! 'E said-! But...'E said, 'same time.'This isn't... No!"
"Mrs. Lov-"
"'E's been saying, 'same time,'for days now!"Mrs. Lovett repeated, quickly reaching a new level of hysteria.
"What are you about, woman? Who's been saying, 'same time?' Have you been in league with him? Are you trying to double-cross me, Mrs. Lov-"Sweeney's budding anger hit a speed bump as he noticed Mrs. Lovett's poorly hidden scratches and bruises. He knelt beside the crying woman. "Mrs. Lovett? What happened to your neck and-ahem- chest?"
"No," Mrs. Lovett shook her head. "'E said not to tell. Said I'd wind up in Bedlam if I said anything, 'e did."
"Who said?" Sweeney whispered gently, sounding far more like Benjamin than he would care to admit.
"Ah, Mrs. Lovett. Delivering Mr. Todd, here, his breakfast?" Beadle Bamford asked as he entered the shop.
"Yes, sir. I'll just be on my way, though. Lots o'pies ter bake," Mrs. Lovett stumbled as she stood and all but ran from the shop.
"I'll be by to get me daily pie in a bit. And again later, same time," Bamford told Mrs. Lovett's retreating form.
"Oh? Daily pie, Beadle Bamford?" Sweeney asked, barely repressing the malicious glint in his smile. "Have you become a regular customer for Mrs. Lovett?"
"You could say that, yes. Mrs. Lovett's been kind enough to take me after closing since me schedule's too hectic to visit during store hours," the beadle answered, smiling.
"Ah, but, sir!" Sweeney protested, his voice drenched in faux admiration. "You haven't been up for a shave!"
"Well, Mrs. Lovett keeps me quite busy when I stop by. I'll be by soon, though," the beadle assured.
"How about now, sir? Isn't that why you came upstairs?" Sweeney supplied, itching to get the other man in the chair.
The beadle faltered. "Actually I came up to... Make an appointment. For Saturday. I don't have time for a shave just now."
"Saturday? Yes, sir. I will see you Saturday for the closest shave you'll ever know," Sweeney smiled.
Beadle Bamford nodded and tipped his hat before descending the stairs.
"If I says nothin','e won't put me in Bedlam," Mrs. Lovett twittered as she prepared pie crusts at the kitchen island of her shop. "Shh... She mustn't say anyfin'."
In the far corners of her mind, Mrs. Lovett realized her already tentative grip on sanity was slipping.
I can't fall apart! Mr. T needs me. I cannot fall apart... Like Lucy did after...
I have to get through this. Mr. T is gonna kill the bloody beadle for his crimes against his precious Lucy. Soon enough...
"Mrs. Lovett?"
Wide-eyed, Mrs. Lovett looked up, "B- Beadle Bamford? I- I thought you weren't coming by until later."
"Well, I was going to wait, but I just had such a craving for one of your... 'meat-pies,'" the beadle smiled.
"But, sir, I 'ave to open soon! I can't be-"
"To the parlor, then?" Beadle Bamford interrupted her pointedly, closing the door to the shop behind him.
"Yes, Beadle," Mrs. Lovett choked, following him.
After the first few times, she didn't cry during anymore. Only after. Always after.
Instead, Mrs. Lovett focused on the cheery wallpaper behind the beadle's head as he stripped himself of his trousers. Then she would think of her Mr. Todd- only of her precious Mr. Todd- as the beadle greedily stripped her of her many layers of skirts.
I can hear him pacing upstairs,
Not for the first time, Mrs. Lovett's mind drifted, taking her far away from what this monster was doing to her; Mrs. Lovett dreamed of her beautiful Mr. Todd rescuing her...
"Mrs. Lovett? Nellie? I have to tell you something, I can't deny it any more!" Mr. Todd would say, bursting into the shop. "Beadle Bamford?" Mr. Todd would pull the beadle off of her, anger contorting his beautiful features. "How dare you touch her?"he would yell, throwing the shorter man against the wall and pinning him with a choke hold. The beadle would scramble, fighting for breath as his face turned a deep purple. "Nellie Lovett is not your whore, you perverted bastard. She is the love of my life. And for hurting her, I will make you pay," Sweeney would say as he took out the razor he kept clipped to his belt. "This perverted son of a bitch isn't fit to go in one of your pies, my love." And Sweeney would draw back his arm, his grip on the beadle's neck slackening as the beadle's face twisted in horror. The blade would cut down in a wide arc, painting the cheery wallpaper a deep crimson. "I'm so sorry I didn't say anything sooner, Nellie. And I'm sorry this bastard violated you. I want to spend the rest of my life making it up to you. Please, Nellie? Let me take you to the sea. We'll have a house. Maybe children? Please, Nellie?"Sweeney would ask, taking her pale hands in his bloodied ones. "Oh, Mr. Todd! I would love that!" Mrs. Lovett would answer. She'd wrap her arms around him and pull him into a fiery kiss as the lifeless body of Beadle Bamford slid to the floor with a thud.
Mrs. Lovett couldn't suppress the wicked grin this picture provoked even as the beadle panted throughout his finish.
Noticing her grin, Beadle Bamford smiled as well. "It was good for you, too, then? Well, I'm glad you're over that crying thing. 'Bout time,"he huffed, pulling out of her. He stood and pulled his pants back on. "I'll see you tonight, the usual time." He strode briskly from the shop, the bell's tinkling the last sign of him.
Mrs. Lovett remained seated on the armchair, vaguely aware that there would no doubt be a line waiting for opening and she wasn't even clothed. But she couldn't shake that last image... Mr. Todd's lips on mine; the beadle slumped to the floor, his life's blood pouring out..