"Stupid bloody weather," Mrs. Lovett mumbled, staring through her dust-streaked shop window at the pale blue night sky. "Rains every bloody day till I start gettin' mine when it rains. Now it's bloody clear out. Stupid bloody weather."

True, Sweeney hadn't looked at her the same way since he'd wandered into her room and caught her touching her self, his name slipping out among garbled moans, during the last rainstorm. Since then, his eyes always darkened with lust, as though he, too, were remembering that night. Unfortunately, he also hadn't come back to her room.

No, it seemed he would only play along with her when it rained and his body cried out for Lucy.

"But it wasn't 'er name 'e called when 'e was cummin' inside ya," she reminded herself, taking pride in the fact that he was always with her when he was with her, never lost in memories of his Lucy.

"All good things come to those who wait, Nellie," she tutted aloud, sighing as she went back to cleaning.

It didn't matter, though. As much as she told herself to wait, her body still craved him, her thighs pounding as heat pooled between them. Each step's friction made her breath catch until she had to stop moving all together, leaning heavily against her counter and spreading her legs as much as her skirt allowed so her thighs no longer put pressure on her throbbing clit.

"Pull yerself together, Nellie!" she scolded herself, running her fingers through her hair as she panted. She rested her chin in her hand. "It's not gonna bloody rain tonight, so tha best ya can do is get yerself off with yer memories!"

She reached across the counter for her rag, the counter's edge digging into her hips and making a slight moan escape her throat. Breathless, she curled her fingers into the opposite end of the counter and pulled her hips harder against the counter, whimpering as heat throbbed within her core.

"Oh- Bloody- 'Ell," she groaned, forcing herself to swallow.

All she could think of was her Mister T, his fingers pressing her own harder against her clit as she moaned.

"Fuck!" she cried out, thrusting her hips hard against the counter again. She was whimpering again, breathless moans escaping her full lips. "Mister T!"

She could feel her body burning for its release. Her eyes flicked up to the ceiling where she could hear Sweeney pacing. She pushed herself from the counter and stumbled to the door from her shop, pulling herself up the stairs, and throwing herself through the door to his shop.

"What is it?" he barked, barely noticing the way she was panting as she looked at him with undisguised lust in her eyes.

"Mistah- Todd," she breathed, sauntering forward, her lust giving her courage.

"What?" he asked again, his attention already slipping from her as he stared out the window.

She stepped in front of him and spread her fingers across his chest, pushing him backward until the back of his knees hit his barber chair and he fell unceremoniously into it. "Mistah T," she growled, leaning over him, her face only inches from his. "It's time ta pay yer landlady." She pushed her lips hungrily to his, one hand pulling his mouth forcefully against her own as the other danced across his lap, rubbing him through his loose, tattered pants until she felt him harden under her fingers.

"Mrs. Lovett, what are you doing?" Sweeney demanded, breaking the kiss.

"You, if ya cooperate," she growled back, both her hands falling to his belt as she fumbled with it, her desire clouding her mental functions.

"Oh, for the bloody-!" she started, finally reaching for his silver "friend" and cutting through his belt before doing the same with his crisp, white shirt. She tucked the razor into her apron before descending on his chest, leaving thick, open-mouthed kisses trailing down his stomach to the bulge in his pants.

"Mrs. Lovett," he panted, digging his fingers into the armrests so he wouldn't touch her. "Stop."

She knew she should listen, that it was suicide to disobey him, but she continued, her tongue tasting his skin as her fingers worked to unzip him. She pulled his member from his pants, swirling her tongue around his tip as she traced his length with her fingertips. She opened her mouth wide, her lips forming an 'o,' as her head bobbed down. He groaned loudly as she slid his erection into her hot mouth and ran her palms across his clothed thighs.

"Mrs. Lovett," he groaned, his head tipping back.

She pulled back, looking up at him with her dark eyes as she swirled her tongue around his tip again. "Ya like that, Mister T?"

He forced himself to swallow, refusing to meet her eyes.

"Now, Mister T, I asked ya a question," she smiled wickedly, swirling her tongue around him again.

His fingers were suddenly tangled in her hair, pulling her full lips to his erection. Following his lead, Mrs. Lovett opened her mouth widely to allow as much as him as she could. He watched her head bob lower, her hair slipping from behind her ears to tickle him as she accepted more of him into her hot mouth.

"Nellie," he growled, trying to force more of himself into her mouth. She squeaked when he pulled her head closer as he bucked his hips.

She could feel him swelling in her mouth, feel how close he was. She pulled away, to his anger, to slowly pull her gauzy jacket from her arms as she backed away. He watched her hungrily as she stripped herself of her apron before pulling her tank over her head, leaving her only in her short, tight, black skirt and black corset.

"Do ya want me, Mister T?" she purred, unzipping her skirt and pushing it over her hips so it pooled at her feet. She reached down to her feet where her apron was and pulled his razor from its pocket. She ran her tongue along the length of the cold metal handle of the razor before trailing it slowly over her corseted stomach to her panties. She locked her eyes on his as she sliced through the fabric of her panties with the blade before closing it again and setting the handle at her dripping entrance.

Slowly, she slid his razor into herself, feeling the engravings as they pushed against her inner walls and she growled quietly as it filled her, determined to keep her eyes on his.

He was still watching her, his fingers twitching as he gripped the armrests. He watched her as she panted and continued moving the razor's hilt in and out of herself, picking up the pace as her head lolled back and she moaned aloud, her thighs shaking as the tip of the razor pressed against her g-spot.

"Mmnnmmmmm," she moaned loudly, leaning heavily against the wall as her knees threatened to give out. True, he wasn't touching her, but she had seen his desire to when she looked in his eyes. Besides, touching herself in front of him was better than in her lonely bedroom by herself. And it was better with his razor because it was his, because he touched it, caressed it, loved it. She brushed her thumb across her clit and cried out. She threw her head back again and she felt a dull pain as it collided with the wall.

She swallowed, trying to remember why she backed so far away from him. Ta tease 'im. She forced her eyes open, pulling the razor from her heat and bringing it to her lips, slowly licking the razor clean of her juices before putting almost the whole handle into her mouth, closing her eyes as she sucked on it purposefully.

"What do ya want, Mister T?" she asked breathily, the handle resting at her full lips again. She reached behind herself with her free hand to tug at the strings of her corset until it, too, fell to her feet, exposing her full, milky white breasts to his hungry gaze.

When he still didn't move as he watched her--though, she did notice, with a satisfied grin, that he was considerably harder now-- she flicked open the razor again, dragging her tongue along the flat of the blade before slipping the handle into her slick sex and moaning. "Oh, Mister T!"

Before she opened her eyes, he was upon her, pressing his lips bruisingly to hers as he pushed her fingers away from the hilt of the silver razor. She gasped sharply, her voice breaking into a deep moan, when she felt him push it further into her, her walls tightening around it.

"On your knees, Nellie," he growled, shoving her to her knees and tracing her plump lips with his erection. He groaned loudly when she opened her mouth and took him between her lips. "That's a good girl…. Keep touching yourself. I wanna hear you moan, pet."

She lowered her hand between her thighs and moved the razor slowly inside herself, feeling it pressing everywhere as it filled her. She moaned and whimpered as he pushed more of himself into her mouth, the razor's tip again at her g-spot. Her thighs trembled as her muscles clenched tightly around the hilt and she moaned around his thickness, whimpering and screaming as her orgasm crashed around her in waves. She felt him swell and release into her mouth and she eagerly swallowed, desperate for air as pleasure continued rolling through her, liquid heat from her core. She felt his fingers curled painfully in her hair as he pulled her closer before pushing her away. She slumped backwards, gasping for a proper breath as her body continued twitching. If she was capable of being angry at him, she was sure she would be livid. Instead, she looked up at him, still panting, and couldn't stop the grin that spread across her features.

He had taken her. It wasn't raining, and he had taken her, told her he wanted to hear her moaning. Surely this meant something!

Don't hold your breath.

Sweeney's eyes flashed dangerously as Mrs. Lovett grinned up at him and she flinched instinctively against the wall, shuffling backward as she stared up at him with fear shining in her eyes.

He descended on her, pulling the razor from between her thighs as he forced her to her back and entered her swiftly. She screeched when he ripped the silver metal from her and screeched again as he set a steady pace, huffing in her ear.

"Mister T?!"

"Isn't this what you want, Nellie?" he demanded, growling savagely as he stopped moving inside her.

Her body cried out instantly and she panted desperately beneath him, her head tilting back, "God, yes!" She forced herself to nod, already feeling the pleasure coursing through her so soon after her climax. "Mister T! Oh, God! Harder!"

He pounded into her brutally and she crooned in delight, her fingers clawing at his hard chest through the slash she'd made in it. She growled, her voice lost in a moan in the back of her throat as she bucked her hips hard against his and flipped their positions so she was riding him roughly, her breasts bouncing in protest to her quick movements. He moved to flip them again, but she clenched her thighs tightly around him, forcing him deeper, as she guided his mouth to her breasts. He lost himself in her soft, yielding body, biting into her large, pale breast and making her cry out as she shuddered above him.

"Oh, G-AHH! Mister T!" she screamed, clutching his shoulders urgently as her walls contracted powerfully around his length as he released within her.

He muffled his groan of pleasure into her breasts, angry at her and at himself for what he'd let himself do with her, to her. Until then, he'd managed to convince himself-- mostly-- that he was only making love-- no! having sex. Sweeney Todd loves no one, only Lucy and Johanna-- with her because he missed his Lucy so much. And she was there! He pushed her roughly from him, frantically going for his zipper and righting himself before standing and walking over to the window.

Mrs. Lovett panted, gasping for breath, unmoving from when he had pushed her. She was laying on her back, staring up at the dingy ceiling as she blinked and forced herself to swallow, her mind forgetting normal bodily functions as it tried to wrap itself around what had just happened. When her breathing had finally slowed to normal, she forced herself into a sitting position as she reached for her clothing and pulled it on, stuffing her ripped panties into the pocket of her apron, as she stood on still shaky legs. She hovered behind him, shifting her weight from one foot to the other as her fingers reached out despite herself.

"Mis-" she cleared her throat. "Mister Todd? Ar-"

"Go," he ordered, not looking at her. He couldn't. Not now that he'd taken her. He'd told himself that he wouldn't again, not after he'd stayed the night with her last time.

He expected to hear her footsteps receding before the bell tinkled brightly and she went down the stairs.

He expected her to cry, maybe, to be upset that he seemed not to care.

He wasn't expecting Mrs. Lovett to step in front of him and pull his lips to her own in a passionate, loving kiss.

And he certainly wasn't expecting her to nuzzle her nose against the ripped fabric of his crisp white shirt as she sighed and entwined her fingers in his as they hung at his side.

He felt like he could have been knocked over with a mere breath when she murmured a soft, "I love ya," as she placed thick, open-mouth kisses across his chest and up his neck before pressing her full lips to his in a soft kiss.

She walked away slowly, her fingers lingering on his until distance forced her to let go. She closed the door silently behind herself before padding quietly down the stairs and to her bedroom, stripping and pulling her nightgown over her head before curling under her covers and surrendering to exhaustion.

Sweeney stared after her in shock, finally stumbling to his chair and collapsing into it. He stared at the far wall and his eyes caught a gleam of silver, his razor. Wearily, he walked over and stooped to pick it up. It was still sticky from when he had pulled it from her velvet heat. He sighed as he stared out it, his brow furrowing as he fell deep into thought.

What…. Is this I'm feeling? He was feeling warm and fuzzy, content, satisfied. But also like he was lacking something.

If he were less adamant, less restrictive, about the emotional capabilities of Sweeney Todd, he might have realized that he was falling for Mrs. Nellie Lovett.