A/N: Guess what guys? I have Wi-Fi, so I am able to update while on my vacation. Yay! Thanks so much for your reviews and adding this story to favourites and alerts. It means a lot seeing as I didn't think I would be able to create romance between the two people where romance was the least likely thing to happen.

Disclaimer: Me owns nothing as Sweeney so "nicely" said in the last chapter.

Sweeney: (*death glare*)

Me: okay...on with the story...

Midnight, it had to be midnight. Eleanor didn't need a clock to know. She had stayed up for enough nights to know how to tell the time by the sky and stars. She sat on the sofa, has been sitting there since nine at night. She hadn't moved an inch.

Sweeney had gone to bed, Nellie could tell from the lack of noise upstairs. True, the barber did not cause a lot of noise in the first place, but it was known when he was pacing. His footsteps treading upon the wood floor had once been a lullaby. Not anymore since Nellie couldn't sleep.

No, Sweeney was not pacing, but he wasn't sleeping either. He was just sitting on his bed in the dark. The wind was blowing slightly outside, creating a low whistle that was somewhat soothing, soothing enough for Eleanor to finally fall asleep. And she dreamed, she dreamed of Toby, the blood spurting from his neck, soaking the front of his clothes. She began crying in her sleep, not waking up.

Her sobs became loud enough for Sweeney to hear in his room. He was not worried, his footsteps kept at an even pace as he made his way downstairs. When he entered the drawing room, Sweeney was met with the sight of Mrs. Lovett on the couch, crying, but asleep. He strode over to her and lightly shook her. Nellie stopped her crying, but did not awaken. Sweeney sighed.

Sweeney Todd bent down and moved her arms so that she was hugging his neck. The barber picked her up and carried her to her room, bridal style. He laid her down on the bed, making sure she was nice and comfortable. He then sat down on the edge of the bed, placing his hand on top of hers. Nellie moved slightly, causing Sweeney to immediately remove his hand. But Nellie was not awake, not even dreaming anymore.

After a few more moments and no more movements were made by Eleanor (except for the occasional twitch and flinch), Sweeney placed his hand gently on her face, caressing it in a soothing manner. He hadn't done something like that since Lucy. In fact, as Sweeney recalled, he hadn't even done that. Lucy was a bit more independent, could take care of herself.

Seeing that Nellie slightly shivered, Sweeney moved the blankets so that they were covering her properly. He resumed to sitting on the edge of the bed. It was only an hour later when he moved to go to his own room. He considered staying with her throughout the night, but Sweeney figured that would give her the wrong impression.

Once back in the imprisonment of his bedroom, Sweeney lay on his bed very still. His breathing was steady as he stared up at the ceiling, hands folded on his chest. What had just happened back in Nellie's room? He had touched her face in a caring way. And yet he did not shudder at the thought.

Nellie awoke the next morning in her bedroom. She glanced around the room, still feeling a little groggy and not remembering how she got there. Did she sleepwalk? That seemed to be the only reasonable explanation. The unreasonable explanation: Sweeney Todd had brought her there. But it was just as Nellie thought; it was unreasonable and irrational.

She walked into the kitchen to see Sweeney already sitting there, two cups of tea on the table. He pushed one of the cups closer to the chair next to him, as if telling her to come and sit down. She did so, taking the cup of tea in her hand and sipping.

"How did you sleep?" Sweeney asked her, his voice hardly audible. But Nellie heard him, she heard him loud and clear.

"Very well thank you. What about you?" In all honesty, she didn't exactly care. But it was the polite thing to do. Sweeney knew she was lying; he had witnessed her having a nightmare, crying. He said nothing about it though.

Sweeney answered her with a quick nod of the head and an almost silent "Fine." In sync, they sipped their tea, the atmosphere filled with an empty, awkward silence. Nellie had noticed that Sweeney made no comment about getting the Judge. It seemed his habit was broken.

Nellie did not finish her tea, only drank half of it. She was really getting rather sick of tea. Gin held no interest to her. And as for the ale, there wasn't any. Eleanor stood up and drained the rest of the tea in the sink. "Heading out," she murmured absentmindedly.

Sweeney stood up from his chair as well, grabbing Nellie's arm as she walked by him. "I'm coming with you," he told her.

"No," she snapped at him. Eleanor realised what she had done and took a deep breath. "I mean, that's quite alright Mistah T, you don't have to."

"Sweeney," the barber's voice was somewhat dark, like it was some sort of threat. "It's Sweeney." It took Eleanor a moment for the words to register. She gave a subtle nod.

"Sweeney," she repeated.

"Nellie," was Sweeney's response as he placed the hand that was clutching her arm on her shoulder. Sweeney was once convinced that saying the first name of Eleanor Lovett would be difficult to do, but he was proven wrong. It felt somewhat natural.

Nellie tried moving away from Sweeney, but just couldn't. With his hand on her shoulder, she felt safe in a manner of speaking. Like someone was looking out for her, comforting her. But this was Sweeney Todd, he was not kind, he was not compassionate. Perhaps at one time he was when he was Benjamin Barker. Now he was Sweeney Todd: The Used to be Demon Barber of Fleet Street, the used to be mass murderer of London.

"I'm coming with you," Sweeney stated again, his voice more firm, showing Nellie that she did not have a say in it. Without another word, Nellie led the way towards the door. Sweeney knew where they were going; they were going to the beach. It had become Nellie's place practically.

No one else was out, mostly because Sweeney and Nellie's house was the only one for miles. Seagulls called from up above as the ocean roared and crashed onto the sand. It was just so peaceful, peaceful enough that even Sweeney felt calm.

Nellie walked ahead of him and out to the edge of the water. She took a deep breath, her eyes closed, letting the world melt away. Sweeney stopped in his tracks, giving Eleanor time to herself. His dark eyes followed her as she sat down in the sand, hugging her knees. He felt no emotion, but did feel a tugging inside of him, as if he was telling himself to go be with her. Unable to resist the feeling, Sweeney began inching closer to Nellie.

She heard him moving in the sand and could tell that he was trying to be as silent as possible about it. Nellie let him do whatever it was Sweeney was doing. She learned long ago to not question him and his actions. Soon enough, he was just a few feet behind her. Nellie saw him out of the corner of her eye and she gave small scowl. She had told him that she didn't want him to come with her. She just wanted to be alone. The seaside was no longer to be used as her reverie as long as she wasn't alone.

It was early enough to catch the sun rising and it was breathtaking. Nellie's eyes traced the waves out on the sea, admiring the colour of the sky as it began changing from dark violet to a blazing pink and orange, the sun still a bright, strawberry red as it rose higher and higher in the sky. Looking at the same picture of loveliness as Nellie, Sweeney moved so that he was beside her. The whole sunrise was simply,

"Beautiful," Nellie breathed.

Sweeney turned his head so the he was properly looking at her as he said something that he thought he would never say, even in death. "Yes, you are."