A.N. Hey, sorry about not putting an author's note in the last one. I just wanted to say that the last chappy contained a little hint of one of my (Twisted Ingenue) fanfictions, "Heartaches and Backaches"...Sweeney melts at massages. XD And by the way, Spontaneously Insane names the chappies!

Chapter 4: Anthony, We Have a Problem

...

"I thought I heard a sound coming from the kitchen." she said softly, moving to stand up. She stopped. "What if someone's broken in?!"

...

Mrs. Lovett stood up. "Broken in?" Mrs. Lovett patted the girl's shoulder. "I don't hear anythin'."

Bethany looked over at Toby curiously. "Did you hear that thump or am I goin' insane?" She asked, now worried for her own sanity.

"I did 'ear somethin'," Toby nodded in agreement. "But I've 'eard it before..."

"The pipes under the bake'ouse are pretty crumbly," Mrs. Lovett's voice was shaky. "Some of 'em collapse once in awhile. Nothin' important."

"It just scared me, that's all." Bethany said softly, eyes trained on the parlor door.

"It scares me a bit too." Toby confessed. "Sounds like there's a beast down there or somethin'."

"Oh, there's no need to be frightened, dearies," Mrs. Lovett cooed, bringing to two back over to the couch at sitting them on either side of her. She chuckled a bit, as if the idea of danger was laughable. "You both are in a very safe place. The only beast 'round 'ere is when Mr. T gets grumpy...an' all 'e'll do is jos snip at you a lil'. 'E's 'armless!"

Bethany snuggled up against Mrs. Lovett's side. "As harmless as he can be, anyway." She said, a slight hint of sarcasm in her voice.

"I like 'em," Toby piped up unexpectedly. "I mean...at first I didn't...but now..."

"Did my two favorite men 'ave a lil' talk while you walked to the doctor?!" Mrs. Lovett gushed, tousling Toby's hair. "You know that makes me 'appy! 'Earing that you two were gettin' along..."

"'E's...different," Toby flattened his hair. "But...'e's...I dunno...I jos...like 'em."



Bethany yawned. "I'm getting' used to him... He's a hard man to figure out, he is."

"I'll second that." Toby rested his head across Mrs. Lovett's knees. He yawned as well. Yawns are contagious, you know.

"I'd drink to it...if gin didn't completely revolt me at the moment," Mrs. Lovett sighed, smiling contentedly. She tried not to worry about the body she had to hack up or the stains she'd have to remove from Sweeney's clothes or even the problem with the flavoring in Sweeney's pie...well...that was still in her mind. The only thing she could do to get Mr. Todd to eat was to put her own blood in his pie and if everyone was going to watch her like a hawk...how the hell could she do it? Mrs. Lovett squirmed a bit, thinking about it.

Bethany noticed Mrs. Lovett's squirming and looked up at her with big eyes. "What's wrong, Mrs. Lovett? You seem all jittery."

"I'm always a mite jittery, love," Mrs. Lovett grinned. "I wos jos thinkin' bout all the pies I 'ave to make

"Well, remember. I get to help you from now on. I can make the crusts for you iffin ya want me to." Bethany said, reaching over and stroking Toby's head.

"Urgh..." Toby muttered, then he groaned happily.

"Wot was that?" Mrs. Lovett quirked an eyebrow at the boy and exchanged an amused look with Bethany.

"Yes, Toby, what was that?" Bethany stroked his hair again, waiting for the curious sound with baited breath.

Toby sat up, crossing his legs. His ears were burgundy from embarrassment. "Don't wanna talka boutit."

Bethany reached over and tucked a stray lock of hair behind the boy's ears. "I do. You're so cute when you turn red like that."

"Urgh..." the boy's entire face burned furiously as he crossed his legs even tighter together. "I...like...pie?"

"Pie?" Bethany giggled. "You're blushing because of pie?"

"Urgh..." Toby rubbed his temples.

"Toby, dear?" Mrs. Lovett stifled laughs. "Wot's wrong?"

"N-Nothin'..." Toby might as well have been a strawberry.



"Toby, tell us. I worry about you." Bethany said, pouting.

"Beth'ny...it's fine," Toby began to fidget madly. "I...don't wanna talk bout it, please."

"I don't want to sit here and know that you might be hurt." Bethany said, almost hurt.

"Toby, dear..." Mrs. Lovett stopped, mouth forming into a little "o" of revelation. "Oooh..." Mrs. Lovett's usually pale cheeks went slightly pink. "Beth'ny, dear...'e's fine...trust me."

"Are you sure, Mrs. Lovett? " Bethany asked, worry in her eyes.

"Yes," Mrs. Lovett patted Bethany's head. "Long as you don't go temptin' the poor boy, 'e'll me fine..."

"MUM!"

"Oh, 'ush, Toby, dear."

"Temptin'?" Bethany asked. "How am I temptin' him?"

"Well..." Mrs. Lovett bit her lip. "Because...well...you see...um...you know..."

Mrs. Lovett was saved by the bell...literally...as she heard the familiar tinkling of the bell over the door leading into the pie shop.

"We're closed now, mum'!" Toby looked alarmed. "Someone's breakin' in!"

"Now, Toby, dear...don't jump to conclusions," Mrs. Lovett walked over to the end of the parlor and opened the door.

There stood Anthony Hope, a small sack of his few belongings on his shoulders. He had tied his long hair back into a small ponytail and he was looking slightly out of place in the gloomy environment.

"Good morning, mum'," Anthony beamed at Mrs. Lovett, bowing politely and taking her hand as he lightly kissed it.

"Anthony!" Mrs. Lovett sighed with relief as she enfolded the lad in one of her big, warm embraces. "'Ow's it goin', sir? I 'aven't seen you 'round in awhile. Is something the matter?"

"No, mum'," Anthony hitched up the strap of the sack that was beginning to slide off of his shoulder. "I just thought I'd drop by to give you and Mr. Todd a visit."

"Wot a pleasant surprise!" Mrs. Lovett exclaimed, linking arms with the young sailor and leading him over to Toby and Bethany.



"Beth'ny," Mrs. Lovett pushed Anthony towards the sitting girl. "This is Anthony...the sailor boy I wos tellin' you about!"

"Hello, sir." Bethany smiled and did the best little curtsy she could manage with her injured arm. "Nice to finally meet you, sir."

"Finally?" Anthony chuckled, taking Bethany's hand that was not in a sling and kissed it politely. "What have you heard about me, Miss Bethany?"

"Toby talks about you like you're royalty, sir." Bethany said, flushing slightly.

"Royalty?!" Anthony laughed. "Miss, I'm about as far from royalty as anyone can get." The sailor turned to an embarrassed-looking Toby. "What have you been telling her, Tobias?"

"Jos that you're a fine sailor," Toby grinned shyly.

"Toby said he wants to be a sailor someday." Bethany said, taking a step back to stand by Toby, one arm softly crossed behind her back.

"Do you, now?" Anthony's ocean-colored eyes glimmered with clandestine flattery. "Mrs. Lovett would miss you, though."

"Y-Yeah..." Toby was still red, tugging at the collar of his shirt. His knees were tightly buckled as he crossed his legs where he stood. Bethany had moved next to him, you see.

Bethany, once again, looked concerned. "Toby, are you sure you're alright? You've been actin' quite queer this mornin'." She said, putting her good hand on his shoulder in concern.

Toby whimpered a bit, trying to smile. "Y-Yeah...f-f-f-fine..."

Mrs. Lovett gave Anthony an apologetic look. "Sorry 'bout this, lad. 'E's been odd like this for awhile."

"He's..." Anthony's eyes met Toby's and a look of understanding graced across the sailor's face. "Ah." Anthony turned to look to Mrs. Lovett. "Not odd, mum'."

"Well, then, how is he actin' if he isn't actin' odd?" Bethany said, confused.

"I beg your pardon, Miss," Anthony bowed his head. "It's not an appropriate subject for a lady." Anthony then made eye contact with Toby again. "Tobias? Have you talked to Mr. Todd about this?"

Mrs. Lovett looked confused. It seemed as if the boys were speaking in code and she was mostly oblivious to the meaning...mostly.

"I...tried," Toby began chewing his thumbnail. "He...said...to talk to you."

Anthony paled a bit, but then regained a cool, composed stature. "Alright then. We'll talk in the kitchen." The sailor boy bowed to Mrs. Lovett and Bethany. "Ladies, I beg your pardons...we must excuse ourselves." Anthony motioned for Toby to follow him and he led the boy into the kitchen, closing the door of the parlor behind him.

"Mrs. Lovett, what's wrong with Toby?" Bethany asked, still as confused as before.

"Oh..." Mrs. Lovett sat the girl down. "It's a "man" thing. Nothin' that really concerns us."

"Is he going to be alright?" Bethany glance between Mrs. Lovett and the parlor door, worrying.

"Of course, love," Mrs. Lovett kissed Bethany's cheek. "Don't you be worryin'. 'E's jost growin' up like every lad should."

"Oh..." Bethany paused, watching the door. Finally, she turned back to Mrs. Lovett. "Mrs. Lovett, if you don't mind my candor... Why does my tummy flutter when Toby's around? Am I getting sick?"

"Oh!" a smile danced across Mrs. Lovett's lips. Her brown eyes sparkled with amusement. "Dearie..." the pie-baker rubbed the girl's upper back. "You're not gettin' sick. You're just 'avin' a lil' crush."

"What's that?" Bethany asked, putting her head on Mrs. Lovett's chest and relaxing onto her like she as a pillow.

"It's like..." Mrs. Lovett sighed, remembering her first crush. She was only eight when she fell for the young apple-seller on the street. He had a beautiful smile...perfect, white teeth. Such a rarity that even her beloved Mr. Todd didn't have. "A crush is like a little spark that leads to love. Sometime the spark just fades to ash...that's what it does most of the time. But sometimes that little spark can start a fire." Mrs. Lovett smiled again. "That's when it becomes special."

"So is that why everything gets all warm?" Bethany asked, yawning.

"Yes, dear," Mrs. Lovett felt her stomach sink into a slight disappointment. "But sometimes it's not always pleasant and warm. Sometimes it's cold and hard. But you can always look on the bright side and say you were overheated anyways."

"Do you think he's crushing on me, too?" Bethany asked, eye's wide and innocent.

"Course 'e is, love," Mrs. Lovett snorted, as if anything otherwise would be preposterous. "Though men usually feel it in a diff'rent way. Even innocent ones like Toby. You can always tell if a man is into ya if you look..." Mrs. Lovett coughed. "...at...at his eyes."

"What way is that?" Bethany asked, curious.



"I'll tell you when you're older, dearie," Mrs. Lovett hated using the oldest phrase in the book, but what else could she do?

"I'm old enough now, Mrs. Lovett." Bethany said, annoyed. "I promise you, I am."

Mrs. Lovett was a "no-nonsense" woman and if Bethany really wanted the truth, she'd give it to her.

"Well, dear...boys...in some stage of love...start to feel it down here," Mrs. Lovett pointed downwards. "We sometimes do...but much later in life, usually. You can tell when the area just above...there...feels like your tummy's givin' a lil flip and then drops. You feel flut'ry in your stomach, now...but someday you'll feel it lower."

"Oh." Bethany flushed a deep crimson. Everything was starting to make a tad more sense. Somewhat. "Is... Is it anything like the picture books Mr. Turpin has in his study?"

"Sweet Jesus! You 'aven't been readin' them 'ave you?" Mrs. Lovett looked alarmed. "And to answer your question...no...of course not. 'Specially for a lad and a lass as young as you and Toby."

"I used to get left in there when the Beadle went for a visit. I just kinda browsed to find somethin' to do." Bethany flushed even redder. "Are they bad books?"

"Yes, Beth'ny," Mrs. Lovett shook her head. "But it's not your fault. It's 'is...nasty ol' judge."

"They didn't seem like bad books..." Bethany said, confused. "Why're they so bad?"

"Dear...please...haven't I spoiled your innocence enough for one day?" Mrs. Lovett beseeched.

"But Mrs. Lovett... I already've seen it. There's nothin' you can say that's be any worse." Bethany said, sitting back against the other side of the couch.

"Jos...don't imitate the people in the books, alright, dearie?" Mrs. Lovett pleaded. "For my sake."

"But..." Bethany pouted. "It... It looked like fun."

"Oh...my..." Mrs. Lovett's jaw practically hit the floor and the poor woman clutched her chest. "Wot the 'ell?!"

"What?" Bethany was suddenly worried. "W-What'd I say?"

The parlor door opened as Mrs. Lovett practically collapsed on the couch. Anthony came leading Toby with his hand on the boy's back. Anthony was blushing slightly, but keeping a straight face.



Toby, on the other hand, was about as white as snow and he had the most traumatized expression the world has ever seen.

"Toby! Are you alright?" Bethany said, walking over to him, concerned for him once again.

"You...You...could...s-say that..." Toby stiffened as she got closer.

"You told 'em?" Mrs. Lovett looked up to Anthony in shock.

"Yes, mum'. He's a smart young man, he is. He's mature enough to know."

Mrs. Lovett looked over to Toby's horror-stricken face. "'E is, huh?"

"Just wait, mum'," Anthony smiled gently.

"B-Beth'ny?" Toby turned to look Bethany directly in the eyes. "You have a...a...beautiful smile." Toby peered up at Anthony as if asking for approval. The sailor boy gave him a thumbs-up in reply.

Bethany flushed ruby red. "R-Really?" She squeaked.

"Y-Yeah..." Toby closed his eyes and gave her a quick peck on the lips, earning himself a gasp from Mrs. Lovett, following an "aww".

Bethany nearly fainted. Her face went so red you wouldn't think it was possible and suddenly she felt very light headed. She swayed where she was for a moment, steadying herself from falling over.

"Did you...?" Mrs. Lovett looked incredulously to Anthony.

"Possibly, mum'," Anthony grinned.

"Are you alright, Beth'ny?" Toby tried to keep the girl stably on her feet. "I'm sorry if I wos bein' forward."

Bethany put her hands around Toby, half for stability. "You're not forward, love. I just feel a little dizzy, that's all."

"That's mighty sweet," Mrs. Lovett gushed.

"Mum?" Anthony asked. "Is Mr. Todd around?"

"Oh..." Mrs. Lovett flushed, remembering his kill. Did he have blood on his shirt that she needed to clean off? And there was that body down below that she needed to chop up.



Bethany turned around and fell over onto her rump. Quickly, she stood again. "Mr. Todd is upstairs, I think. With the doctor."

"Doctor?" Anthony looked confused.

"Oh, that doctor's prob'ly long gone by now," Mrs. Lovett shook her head. "'E's prob'ly gone out the back door. That's where everyone goes."

"He came because of my arm." Bethany held up her arm as proof. "I fell on it."

"I wish you a full recovery in your health, miss," Anthony expressed his condolences to the girl. He then turned to Mrs. Lovett. "Mum? Is Mr. Todd very busy? I would so much like to chat with him again..."

"Very busy, I'm afraid, dear lad," Mrs. Lovett's blood ran cold, fearing for the stains that were perhaps on Sweeney's clothing.

Two loud bangs shook dust down from the ceiling onto the group. Said bangs came from the barbershop upstairs, where Sweeney was waiting rather impatiently. He had a bit of a problem on his hands. The doctor's coat had gotten caught on the chair and Sweeney had been trying for the past half hour to get it off. Sadly, it was also still attached to the doctor, who hung half in and half out of the chute by his right arm and leg.

"What was that?!" Anthony looked alarmed.

"Is Mr. Todd alright?" Toby's eyes widened.

Mrs. Lovett, sensing Sweeney's distress, looked to the three youths. "I'm going upstairs to 'elp 'em. Beth'ny, Toby...stay with Anthony...don't come up...he may be...angry." And without further explanation, Mrs. Lovett gathered up her skirt and fled out of the parlor.

She rushed out the door of the front shop and pattered up the stairs leading to the barbershop. The woman opened the door and gasped at the sight.

"Mr. T!" Mrs. Lovett went over to her beloved barber. "Wot 'appened 'ere?! I thought I 'eard 'em go down!"

"He did, but the coat bounced him back up." Sweeney gave the body a glare. "And I thought this'd be easy."

"Aw, love," Mrs. Lovett patted his back, trying to hide the awkwardness of the way she was feeling. Their last meeting alone had been very...well...you know. "'Ere," Mrs. Lovett looked down at the doctor's body, not squeamish around corpses in the least. She had to stick them in a grinder and make pies out of them, so being squeamish around dead bodies would be like a surgeon who fainted at the sight of blood.



Mrs. Lovett fisted the fabric of the doctor's sleeve, causing the arm to flop around. "Love? 'Old down the pedal and pull on the armrest. That should do the trick."

"The armrest won't pull." Sweeney said, though he still put his foot down on the pedal. The chair gave a weak shudder at the motion, almost wanting to get rid of it's burden.

"Alright..." Mrs. Lovett brushed a stray strand of hair out of her eyes. She grabbed part of the bloody body and gave it a good, hard tug. Much to her surprise, the jacket was released and the body came free. Mrs. Lovett dubiously let go of the doctor and he slid down the chute, landing to the bottom with a satisfying thud.

The trapdoor snapped shut with a satisfying sound, leaving the barber graced with a grin on his face. Though, it was hard to tell since he was covered in blood, the red stains cascading down his arms and over his face like he had been rained on by it. The floor was also graced with the presence of blood, such so that if they had bad flooring it might have leaked down to the kitchen below. It was so thick on the floor that the barber left footprints as he made his way over to Mrs. Lovett and glared happily at the trapdoor that lead below.

"Well, that as the first time that's happened." He said, wiping his bloody hands on a towel.

Mrs. Lovett fought the urge to point out that blasted Lucy would've never done that for him.

"Well, I 'ope it never 'appens again," Mrs. Lovett crossed her arms and raked over Sweeney's appearance with her eyes. "Mr. T...look at the mess you've gotten yourself in." Mrs. Lovett tried to have a chiding tone, but that impression was tainted due to the small smile dancing on her lips. "I'll need to wash those."

Sweeney held up his arm, suddenly realizing that he was, in fact, covered in blood. "Shit." He said, unbuttoning his vest and throwing it on his personal chair. He ripped off his shirt and rang it out, watching the blood begin to pool at his feet. Shirtless and annoyed, he handed the shirt to Mrs. Lovett.

Mrs. Lovett tried not to shudder from arousal at the sight of his pearly-white, bare chest. So she adverted her eyes and took the shirt.

"Anthony's downstairs," Mrs. Lovett informed him. "I'm gonna 'ave to be discreet..." Mrs. Lovett's eyes gave in and began greedily scanning over his strong, supple muscles...surprised that he had such a youthful, nice physique at his age.

Sweeney braced his hands on the window sill, watching the people go past. "I'll clean the floor and we can drop the shirt down the chute to be washed later." He said finally. "See if he can help you get the shop ready for tonight, when we open. Beadle should be around soon... let the girl serve tables. She'll be more obvious." He looked up and noticed her staring, but ignored it, turning back to the window to hide what would have been a soft smile.



"G-Good idea," Mrs. Lovett shakily nodded, slamming her foot on the pedal, opening the trapdoor, and threw his shirt down the chute. "W-We...should 'ave...a g-good dinner rush tonight."

Mrs. Lovett looked down at her hands, lacy-white gloves spoiled with blood. "Mr. T...I'm sorry 'bout...sendin' the doctor up 'ere. I thought...it'd cheer ya up...but 'parently it di'nt do much."

"It would have it he hadn't gotten stuck." Sweeney shrugged. "It was a nice thought, though."

Mrs. Lovett's face burned and her stomach bubbled with curiosity. She knew she should've been keeping her inquiries to herself, even if she had a million questions to ask him. She didn't want to irritate him by constantly badgering him. But he had left so many questions unanswered by saying that he wouldn't lie to her...making her wait, dangling in expectation...though not really knowing what she expected.

Mrs. Lovett opened her mouth to speak, but closed it. She needed to keep her mouth shut for once.

"You're acting strange today, Mrs. Lovett. Anything wrong?" He turned to face her, eyebrows furrowed.

Mrs. Lovett was about to reply with a snarky, "Of course somethin's wrong! Are you daft?!" or maybe with, "Nothin's wrong cept' your slow 'ead!"

But the woman paused when she realized something. Sweeney was just being a man. Men were often slow to catch on that things were wrong and sometimes forgot little things that served as clues. And besides, you couldn't forget that Sweeney was a rather single-minded man so it was pretty good that it only took him that long.

"I won't lie to you, love," Mrs. Lovett used practically the same words he used to her. "I'm a lil'..." Mrs. Lovett wanted to say "distressed" or "lovesick" or maybe even just "impatient".

"...cold." she finished, blurting out the first thing that came to mind. Wait...what did she just say? Cold?! Well that was a stupid, nonsensical answer.

"Cold?" Sweeney quirked an eyebrow. "You're a little cold?" He paused. Well, this was making no sense. "Is that all?"

"Cold..." Mrs. Lovett was turning almost as red as Toby earlier. "I didn't mean to say cold...that just...came out..." Mrs. Lovett tried to control her emotions but somehow everything just broke loose and she blurted something out again,

"I love you."

Sweeney stopped in what he was going to say. He was almost taken aback by her forwardness with the matter, but at the same time he wasn't. He already knew there was something between 

them, at least one way, since their conversation earlier. But her statement made him think about exactly what he felt for her, and that was why he stopped.

His mind had become a jumble of thoughts and feelings, some of which were terribly foreign to him and others he only reserved for his Lucy. Yet, they still were there, tormenting him to no end. Did she really love him, or was it just her mind being insane? How long had this been going on? And then the most important question centered itself in his mind –Did he love her back?

Sweeney couldn't take it. He could feel his blood boiling with the torment the felt. He gripped at his head with one hand, the other reaching for his razor blade instinctively. He didn't want to hurt Mrs. Lovett in any sense but the pain, the hurt he always felt when he remembered Lucy, was dwelling too close. He couldn't take it.

"OUT!" He shouted, gesturing to the door with his free hand and pulling out the razorblade at the same time. "GET OUT!"

"You asked me wot wos wrong!" Mrs. Lovett cried in anguish, blinking back tears. "And that wos it! That's wot's be it for more than fifteen damn years!"

Sweeney stepped back, fighting his own anger and hate. He wanted, no, needed to hurt something, anything. He was getting too angry, and he didn't want to hurt Mrs. Lovett.

"Just get out!" His hand wavered where it pointed, the already pale flesh turning white around his knuckles. He had his eyes closed tight, trying to block everything out.

"I'm sorry, Mr. T," Mrs. Lovett sighed, speaking softly as she noticed his apparent distress that she had completely ignored for purposes of her own pleasure. "I wosn't thinkin' 'boutchu...I wos thinkin' bout me."

"Just... just leave." Sweeney said, dropping his hand. He took another step back and his foot lost traction, sending him flat on his back in the blood pool.

"Mr. T!" Mrs. Lovett fled over to the man's side, pulling him up. "Bloody 'ell...lit'rally. You'll need to get them trousers cleaned too..."

Sweeney shook her arm off violently, angered. "Just... leave..." He hissed through his teeth, giving Mrs. Lovett a look of warning. "The pants will be along. Just leave."

"Alright, Alright," Mrs. Lovett rolled her eyes, trying to hide the hurt in them as she turned around to exit. "I'll leave...long as you do one thing for me later on tonight."

Sweeney pushed himself up onto his knees, ignoring the pain in his legs and back. "What would that be?" He asked, removing his belt from his waist and throwing it to join his vest.



"Eat something tonight," Mrs. Lovett sighed, knowing that she couldn't put in his favorite ingredient that night or else it would draw attention. "All of what I give ya, I mean. Even if don't taste good to ya...eat it. It'd take a lot o' worry off me shoulders."

Sweeney paused with the unbuttoning of his pants and nodded. "You better go. Anthony might start wondering something. The pants will be down soon." He said, ushering her to the door. "And... alright. I'll eat."

"Thank you," Mrs. Lovett got a sly look in her eye and gave him a VERY swift kiss making a run for it, zipping out of there faster than the speed of light.

Sweeney stared after her, eyebrow quirked in confusion. He then turned around and began to clean up the mess he'd made before it leaked through the ceiling.