Hey! I hope you guys enjoy this one! I left a bit of a rant in the end of my AN...sorry about that if it doesn't apply to you. ;;
Books were all well and nice, but Mrs. Lovett rarely had any time to read them. Having gone most of her life virtually illiterate, Lovett felt this pain dearly. Yet she was willing to sacrifice that small pleasure, among other ones, for the opportunity to spend just a few more minutes in the presence of her barber. And so she gave up her reading period, the hour between the closing of the pie shop and the opening of her bedchamber door. This hour was transformed into a secret, special time when they could sit together in candlelit comfort, talking when they wanted, watching each other when they didn't.
Normally, it was Lovett talking and Sweeny listening distractedly while he cleaned up his shop or pampered his razors. Sometimes, however, they would simply enjoy the atmosphere, quiet and thoughtful.
And Lovett had many things to think about. Occasionally she wondered what it would be like to be one of his razors. He would be kind and gentle with her, using her only when necessary, but always taking care to pamper her before and after the deed, no matter what it was. She would always be with him, always be able to enjoy the warmth of his hand and the gaze of his eyes.
Sometimes she tried to imagine what it would feel like to be one of Mister Todd's razors. She was keenly aware of the way he rubbed his fingers across their smooth surface, how their tips caressed the bodies molded into the silver handles. When he slid the deadly steel edge along his leather sharpening strap, her breath hitched. When his hot breath clouded the surface of his tool as he tried to get rid of an annoying blemish, warmth crept throughout her body. Oh yes, she would love very much to be one of Mister Todd's razors.
But even when she wasn't imagining herself as a cold piece of metal that only came alive when touched by Sweeney's hands –and perhaps she truly wasn't that far off, after all- Mrs. Lovett was happy to content herself to being what she was: a simple woman who cared enough for the man who had been Benjamin Barker to be content to merely bask in the presence of his soul's shadow. The delicate relationship (dare she think of it as a friendship?) that had formed between them endured the days that separated them and the memories that haunted them both.
-
Swsh-soosh-swsh-soosh-shwsh…
"Mista' Todd?" Lovett asked, breaking the gentle rhythm of metal over leather.
Shink!
"Yes, Mrs. Lovett?" Sweeney answered, his deep voice vibrating through the still room. His eyes did not rise from the glimmering straight razor that he was sharpening, his hand poised elegantly over the strap, head cocked slightly to the side as he awaited her reply.
She wished he would look at her. The candlelight was casting a golden flickering glow across her bosom and her gown was blissfully free of gravy, crust, or any other pie residue. Just in case he decided to glance at her, Lovett leaned forward…all the better to display the generous amount of flesh hanging out of the neckline.
"I was thinkin', Love…" How to go on without angering him? Lovett swallowed nervously and smiled charmingly at his bowed head. "Well, alls I'm sayin' is that it gets a bit 'ard to carry the…meat…back an' forth. P'raps y'could…" Her voice faded off, the request left hanging anonymously between them, leaving the silence that followed uncomfortable and heavy.
Sweeney glanced at her, just a glance but it was enough to give Lovett the courage to voice her desire. "P'raps y' could give me a 'and ev'ry now and then…if it won't get in the way o' your work, o' course." Finally having the words out Lovett blushed but held her ground, her eyes meeting his.
The silence stretched throughout the room, wrapping around Lovett and creeping into her throat, constricting her chest and making it difficult to breathe.
Sweeney lowered his gaze to the blade in his hand. "Yes…yes, of course…"
Lovett's breath escaped her in a shaky laugh of relief. And to think that she had worried about his reaction! Only now he was staring at her again, dark eyes burning holes into her heart. An eyebrow was raised in that sexy way that she loved so much and if the gaze weren't so intimidating Mister Todd would have to clean her up off the floor.
Oh, Mister Todd…I could eat you up, Lovett thought to herself, growing warm at her sinful thoughts. Those brown eyes, so soft and yet so harsh, pale skin (white as an unbaked pie…and probably as tasty as her new ones), and soft, beckoning mouth (especially when he was smirking)…! Oh, it was enough to drive even the most prudish of virgins crazy! And Lovett was no virgin, oh no…
She had often thought of asking him, of course. She had dreamt of him often enough, why shouldn't she think of asking him to join her in her sleep and…other…things…? But he had never shown her the slightest interest in that respect. In fact, he seemed to regard her as nothing more than a friend. But she was so much more! Who was there when he needed calming? When he was about to do something foolish or simply didn't know what to do? Lovett was there for him in every area…except the physical. She was still waiting for her new sheets to be broken in. And it wasn't just her; Mister Todd hadn't been seeing any women! It was almost as if he were…
No! There's no way!
"M-Mista' Todd!"
That expression on her face… Mrs. Lovett had always been pale, but now she was bordering on corpse-like, her face a shade of green he had only seen amongst the freshest of sailors. He saw her trying to swallow and, with the understanding of an experienced sailor, lunged for the lady, grabbed her with one arm, hurried her to the door, and thrust it open, pushing her outside and into the (somewhat) fresh air. She stood for a minute staring at him strangely (had no one ever told her that it was impolite to stare?) before the green began to vanish and what little color her flesh normally held returned. She smiled nervously and touched his sleeve, looking for all the world as if she were trying to convince herself that he was really there.
"Mrs. Lovett, what has gotten into you?" Sweeney demanded, sounding a bit harsher than he intended but refusing to apologize for it.
"Mista' Todd, tell me one thing!" she begged. "Just one thing and I swear I'll be sa'isfied! I'll even leave y' 'lone for the res' o' the nigh'!"
Surely such a bargain would tempt Satan himself. "What is it, Pet?" Seeing that she didn't melt as usual when he used the endearment, Sweeney's spine straightened. It must be important indeed to warrant this much seriousness.
"Are you…tha' is…do you…." Mrs. Lovett sighed, stared at her feet, and muttered "Oh, this is foolishness!" but her hand clutched the fabric of his sleeve as if it were the last lifeboat on a sinking ship. Returning her gaze to his (he had always loved the way London was reflected in those eyes…) she opened her mouth and asked him (a silvery glint, a sharp edge…perfect eyes.) "Mista' Todd…y' do like women, don' you?"
Well, how did one answer that sort of thing? Her question was the last that he might have expected. Feeling something (a smirk, possibly…it couldn't be anything more) tug at his mouth, Sweeney tried to quell the emotion bubbling up inside him and instead fixed Mrs. Lovett with one of his most intense glares.
"Mrs. Lovett," he growled, pleased with the resulting sound, "Are you asking me if I like to sleep with other men?"
Mrs. Lovett swallowed (apparently his intimidation skills were working fine) and replied, "No Mista' Todd…I wos asking if y' like t' do mo' than jus' sleep with 'em."
And the emotion that he had been trying to quell shot through him. Sweeney Todd threw back his head and laughed at his poor baker's misery. If he had been able to cry, Sweeney was certain that Mrs. Lovett's remark would have brought tears to his eyes. As it was, he found himself gasping for air and clutching her shoulder. Still smiling, he decided to tease her just a bit more.
"My dear Mrs. Lovett, I eat with men, sleep with men, and do various…activities with men. What exactly are you referring to, hmm?" He wanted to hear her say it. Sweeney wasn't sure why, but he wanted to hear the dirty words on her lips. He was certain she had said worse things, but she seemed to be skirting around the issue. And the issue was, of course, sex.
But she wasn't saying anything. She was simply staring at him, her eyes sad and unsure…perhaps even afraid. But of course she was afraid. Sweeney had noted her interest in him from the first day…it wasn't difficult to decipher the meaning behind her sniffing his hair and rubbing against him whenever she could.
Later, he would wonder just what had brought her to the point of kissing him just then. Later, he would try to retrace their conversation to find what exactly led to it. Later, he would moan into his worn pillow with the memory of his dead wife. But in the moment when she did kiss him, her eyes hard and steely with determination, Sweeney forgot everything about his new life except for the woman in it.
It had been a long time since he had kissed a woman, and Mrs. Lovett seemed to be quite good at it. At first, she simply pressed her warm lips against his cold ones, afraid, perhaps, that he really was interested in men. Then, when he stood frozen with shock instead of pushing her away, she began to move. She pressed her body against his, suckling on his lower lip then tracing his mouth with her pretty little tongue. He felt her hands sliding up his chest and his own drew her closer automatically. What the hell? It had been a long time.
One hand around her waist, Sweeney snaked the other around the back of her neck, pulling her mouth closer. He tilted his head and met Mrs. Lovett's tongue with his own, sliding it down the length of the muscle and into her mouth. She shivered in reply and moaned, stretching on her toes towards him and wrapping one arm around his shoulders for support. The hand that had been on her waist traveled lower, finding her generous bottom and squeezing it. She squealed; he was certain he heard it. And that squeal made him smirk against her mouth. He hadn't touched a woman in years…but he hadn't forgotten how.
His other hand had begun to roam dangerously close to the flesh spilling out of the top of her dress when a noise finally broke through the web of desire that Mrs. Lovett had so skillfully spun for him. Pulling his mouth from hers, Sweeney glanced over her head to glare at the boy who had come up the stairs behind her. By God, perhaps it was time he had a shave!
"Mista' Todd! Mum! D'ye think tha's the bes' place t' be doin' tha'?" Toby gestured towards the street. "Fleet Street is a pre'ey busy street, if y' know wha' I mean." Noticing the dangerous look in the barber's eyes, Toby hurried on, "A-an' I'd 'ate t' scare away your cus'mers, sir!"
Mrs. Lovett sighed, the movement traveling through Sweeney's body (that was still molded to hers oh-so-nicely), nearly undoing the restraint that he had built while listening to Toby speak. Grabbing her arms, Sweeney pushed Mrs. Lovett gently away from him. He would have loved to…still would love to…! But the boy was right and the reminder had returned Sweeney's wits to him. There was a reason why he hadn't slept with a woman since Lu-…his wife. It was in memory of her. And he would not dishonor her by sleeping with a woman who knew her so well.
"I apologize for my behavior, Mrs. Lovett," Sweeney whispered, his mind already elsewhere. Her expression was heartbreaking…but then you had to have a heart to really be affected by it, he supposed. And his had died with his wife.
Turning away from her, Sweeney reentered his shop, shutting Mrs. Lovett and the rest of the world out. He had all he needed right here.
But then…why did he feel so…lonely?
AN: Aww…I really don't know who to feel more sorry for! Sorry this chapter took so long to post. I don't have Internet at the apartment (although my downstairs neighbor does…wish he'd give me the password!). I also got a bit of writer's block towards the middle (before it started getting good wink). I had nuuuuuu idea of where to go here. I just know where I want to end up. Honestly, I just make a decent outline and then let the characters do as they will so long as they follow it.
-Warning: RANT!-
Ahh, yes…some people have been giving me grief (none of you, I'm sure 3) over the fact that this fanfic is an AWEFUL LOT like the movie. Well, I suppose the only thing I have to say about that it FOOEY ON YOU! :P Of course this fanfic is a lot like the movie! The whole point of this fanfic is to show how much change can come from just a little thing. I'm going to be changing more things (obviously) to get my ending, but they're all going to be decently small things. But if you're only changing small things you can't expect the fanfiction to be too different from the movie in the beginning. I also don't like fics where the characters are immediately OOC. I like to make it believable. And by-golly, if there's an earthquake in the original, you can bloody well BET there'll be an earthquake in my fic!! (I realize that there are no earthquakes in Sweeney Todd…just appreciate the image that it produces.)
