A/N: You have been so kind and lovely with your reviews that I wanted to update soon. After this chapter is when the real plot starts, I hope you like it! A little Sweenett in here :)
The things between the barber and his landlady were worst than ever. Mrs. Lovett stopped sending Toby with his meals. Nobody brought him any meal. He didn't care the first couple of days, but when he was literally starving he began to sneak to the kitchen to grab some food when Mrs. Lovett and Toby weren't there.
Sweeney felt an emptiness bigger than before; he had lost his wife and child, and he was losing too the only person who was able to understand him.
He occupied his days killing people and pacing around the barber shop. His thoughts began to go from his lost family to the woman downstairs; he even missed her annoying chatter. That woman had taken care of him, and willingly hid his crimes, without hesitation.
He was still mad at her for talking about his wife that way, but he was mad because that thought had crossed his mind sometimes. Why didn't Lucy wait for him? Why didn't she keep the hope of his returning? Mrs. Lovett had had hope; she had kept his razors; and she was giving him a roof.
Realization came to him; he should talk to her. He wasn't going to apologize, but he needed her. Only for his revenge, of course. But he was also starving.
A week had passed since her encounter with the barber; Nellie was sadder than ever, but kept working and taking care of Toby. The barber could starve if it was her choice. She couldn't sleep at night, images of him calling her a whore and pressing the razor against her throat surrounded her mind. The razor she had kept hidden all these years. Toby stopped asking questions, knowing she wasn't answering them.
Mr. Havisham had come to visit her the next day, only to tell her she could do whatever she wanted, he didn't care about another man on her bed. She was relieved when she heard his words, but also she felt hurt; there was no love for Nellie Lovett. She was only a good fuck for most of Londoners.
She was finishing the cleaning of her shop when someone came in.
-We are closed, sir.
-Mrs. Lovett… - Sweeney Todd was standing under the door frame.
-Oh, it's you. What do you want? – She took a quick glance of him and looked down at her counter again.
-I want to talk with you.
-But I don't. – The hurt in her words was evident.
-Please, Nellie… - Sweeney walked towards her, knowing that addressing her by her first name would work.
-Okay, Mr. T., give me ten minutes to finish this.
-Come upstairs when you finish, Mrs. Lovett. – He turned around and left. He wasn't sure about how to say to her. But he needed her trust again.
Mrs. Lovett finished her chores and walked through the door; feeling nervous, she came into the pie shop again and took a bottle of gin, trying to appease her nerves, and headed upstairs.
She didn't knock.
-Mr. T?
-Mrs. Lovett, sit down please. – He offered her the barber chair and took a stool for himself. She opened the bottle of gin and served two glasses. – I see you have brought some liquor. Thank you.
She drank her glass, wondering what the barber was plotting.
-Mrs. Lovett, I want to apologize for calling you a slut. I shouldn't do that.
-Yes, you shouldn't. – She wasn't falling for his words. There was some trick under them, she was sure.
-However, you shouldn't have talked about my wife in that way.
-If you hadn't called me that I wouldn't. You know that, love. – Well, at least she was going softer on him. He smiled and drank another glass of gin.
He felt a strange closeness to the baker. She had lived a hard life, but she had managed to survive. And that amazed him. When he was arrested, her husband was still alive, but he wasn't very helpful. He always thought he was a burden to her, more than a help. And she had "adopted" the lad, and took care of him.
-I had no right to call you that. I know how hard your life has been.
-No, Mr. T. You don't. – Her saddened eyes met his. And he suddenly wanted to know all about her. What was the matter with him? This woman had called Lucy a whore, had disrespected his dead wife. But on the other hand, this woman amazed him. It wasn't usual to see such strong women on London, with their own business. And that big eyes, and that plump lips… he noticed she was wearing a new dress, a dark blue one. It must have been a gift from the tailor. He understood why the customers tried to date her. She was a bloody wonder.
He finished his glass of gin and poured some more. The bottle was now almost empty and both were to blame. They were slightly drunk. And alcohol seemed to have a strange effect on the baker; instead of make her to talk more, it made her quieter. And in this moment all Sweeney wanted was to know more about her.
-Mr. T? – She had noticed he was staring at her, frowning. –what happens, love?
-Nothing, Nellie. – Her first name had slipped through his lips unintentionally. And she smiled when she heard it.
-What about if I take a look to the leaks?
He remembered the mess on his bedroom, which wasn't cleaned yet.
-No! I mean, you don't need to see it. I don't sleep much, anyway.
-Come on, Mr. T, I may need to see it if you want me to hire someone to fix it.
He was trying to make up another excuse, which was difficult in his drunken state, but she had stood up and was walking to his bedroom. He followed her, when she opened the door and her jaw dropped.
-Mr. T! What the hell have you done?!
-Ummm…. See, Mrs. Lovett, I tried to fix it. But, um, it didn't end well.
Mrs. Lovett was astonished, looking at the clay and mud everywhere. The bed was covered in mud, still wet because of the heavy rain from the last weeks. And the leaks were bigger now, maybe because of the clumsy attempt of the barber.
She turned around to face Mr. Todd, and laughed. She laughed harder than she could remember. The images of the barber making this mess and cursing and yelling made her laugh even harder.
-It's not funny, Mrs. Lovett! – He was suppressing his own laugh. It was indeed funny, a huge mess of bedroom he had.
-Yes, it is, Mr. T! Look what you did! What did you use to make this? – She pointed at the roof, when she slipped on some wet mud on the floor, falling backwards. But when she expected to feel the hard thud of her back on the floor, she felt the strong barber arms around her waist instead.
He was amazed by his own quick reflects, now that he was pretty drunk. The scent of the woman in his arms was surrounding his head, making him feel dizzy for something more than the gin. Her lips were parting slightly, not knowing what to do or say. And in a moment, he couldn't think and crashed his lips against the baker's, tightening his grip on her waist, savoring his scent from a closer place, feeling her skin through her dress. She wrapped her arms around his neck and deepened the kiss.
-Mum! Mr. T! – A breathless Toby ran upstairs and entered into the barber shop – Mr. T? Mum?
The couple left the bedroom, eyeing the agitated lad.
-What is it, love? – Mrs. Lovett ran a hand through the boy's hair.
-Judge Turpin is here, mum! He wants to talk to you, alone.
Sweeney and Nellie exchanged a confused look.
-Let me go downstairs first, Mrs. Lovett.
-No, love. I'll go. Come down in a few minutes, will you?
A/N: It's a little bit shorter than the other chapters, but I feel I should end it in here. What does Turpin want from Mrs. Lovett?
Reviews are love 3 so, review, please!