Here is chapter 3. This is a filler, containing important information. So, it's kind of not very eventful. Again, thanks to thelovelyflorencelovett for reviewing, and thanks to the viewers of this story. Not that any are needed, but if you have any requests or suggestions, I'd be glad to take them and incorperate them into this story. Anywho, enjoy!

Disclaimer: No.


Chapter 3: A Proposition

A few days after Sweeney Todd's arrival, Mrs. Lovett had a proposition, though Mr. Todd as he always seemed to, found a way to stomp it into the ground.

"And may I ask, exactly where do you think I will get the money to afford such a feat as opening this, tonsorial parlor?" He glared seemingly uninterested at her, the small baker in is presence. Now, really, she'd known that he probably wouldn't take so well to the idea at first; the least she could do was try to persuade him. Besides, they both needed money to live off of, and if she remembered correctly he was great in the trade of barbering. And, it'd get her scheme well in motion.

"Oh, Mr. Todd, that's fine! I've got some savings stashed! We can use that to get your cream and whatnot!" He'd seemed unenthused about the opening of his shop. In fact he seemed indifferent as Mrs. Lovett had come to find he most always was to any particular event. Being the considerate woman she was, Nellie had brushed it off with a wave of her hand and a tilt of her head, red curls bobbing. She took a mental note, Sweeney Todd, was grumpy in the morning.

Later that day she'd interrupted him from his plotting to get to Judge Turpin, again.

"Mr. Todd! I've got it!" She hadn't knocked of course but since he'd moved in she really hadn't at all. He was probably tempted the next time she came in the door to shove her up against the wall with one of his razors to her throat. She cringed.

"Of course you do." When he talked to her, she realized he liked to use as few words possible. She liked that he'd let himself talk to her, she couldn't stand silence. He sighed, though this occurrence it seemed he was actually listening to the woman's seemingly listless rant. It was probably only because it held for him some benefit.

"O'course I don't visit any barber shop's Mr. T, but I know that London's still in search of a man who can really shave 'em clean." She had come to stand a few feet away beside him at the window, where he was pacing.

"Mmh."

"Yeah, and if anyone can do it, I know you can. Once you get your supplies and such, and we 'ang these flyers, there'll be plenty o' customers!" Nellie's voice raised a decibel with each word she uttered, but she couldn't help her excitement. If he were to open a business here, he was less likely pack up and abandon her. Though there was the chance that he could, cast aside her idea and leave by morning, all before she could even blink an eye. She didn't think he would, but there was always that lingering fear in the back of her mind that she'd someday soon be alone once more. The memories of her past would haunt her every waking hour. "So, what do ya say, Mr. T?"

"Sure, whatever you say," he grumbled, still not looking at her.

While sure she didn't mind that he outright refused to make eye contact with her for more than 5 seconds in a 60 minute time span, it did get kind of annoying. Ultimately she'd put up with it, batting her eyelashes and reply in an even cheerier voice that it was fine. It was fine that he chose not to give her the time of day unless of course it was the time the Judge should show up for his "revenge". Ah, that was it! This would get him to give at her at least a scrap of his attention.

"And, love, m'sure once you get popular 'ere that bloody ole Judge will come 'round? You can get your revenge?"

Sweeney did glance at her then, noticing the wicked grin on her face. Upon the verbalizing of the words "Judge" and "revenge" in the same sentence, he was instantly alert, as she knew he would be. The man grinned darkly at her. Oh, how it tickled her to see that he was pleased. She certainly wouldn't tell him that, though. Just like her, Sweeney deserved a little happiness in the dark hole he called life, and if she were able to give that to him, she would.

"You're a bloody wonder Mrs. Lovett. Eminently practical and yet appropriate as always." His head turned to regard the commoners who seemed to be in an endless bustle down the dirtied streets, and to this she groaned inwardly. Bleeding difficult this man was. "And of course, with the money we bring in, we can probably get something more suitable to fill your…pies with." She noticed he acknowledged her briefly with a flick of his eyes before he was back to his view again. Well, at least he considered her rather than disregarding her as a part of his set of tools, an object only to be used when needed.

"Ah, righ' you are, dear. We'd be the respectable barber and baker we would." She nodded before turning to pace as he did each night instead of sleep. Not that she would lie awake until he began to pace, using that as a soothing lullaby, an assurance she wasn't alone anymore. "And when we 'ave quite a lot saved we can pro'bly get this place spruced up a bit. Maybe a good paint job and some curtains…"

"No, no curtains." He glared heavily at her, causing her to stop her thoughtful tread. She looked at him then, a hint of fear swimming in her dark eyes before he turned once more. Mrs. Lovett didn't know what had made him so edgy when she'd mentioned the home accessories. She shrugged, making a mental note to ask him later about his sudden dislike of curtains.

"Aw'right then. No curtains," she whispered.

"That'll be all, Mrs. Lovett."

As she did most days, the woman took that as a notion to leave, and quickly. Sweeney reached down to his belt holster and removed a razor, unsheathing it methodically. She figured he was going to have one of his private conversations with his precious barbering tools. Her eyes rolled as she retreated down the stairs. She would never quite understand how he would prefer talking to one of those over her. Just as the door shut finally, she'd heard him utter;

"Ah, my friend, we soon shall work again. The Judge will not leave this place until his rubies have been spilled." He smirked at his companion. "Yes, we shall have revenge…"

And if Eleanor Lovett knew one thing, it was this; when Benjamin made promises, he kept them no matter what. And if Sweeney was anything like his former self, than he would keep his promise too, regardless of the cost. Judge Turpin would cease to exist. Sweeney Todd would bloody see to that. Indubitably.