[A/N: Rubiie (I just suddenly thought "You'll soon drip precious, Rubiies" XD) and Stereophonic Aftershock (is that your killjoy name? If so, I loves it!) You make this so much more fun to upload, your reviews make me smile. They make dear Mr. Todd happy too! So keep them coming, my friends! =D)
When they got back indoors at Fleet Street, Sweeney made to go straight upstairs, but Mrs. Lovett insisted that he stay downstairs and socialize for a while. He gave her a look before agreeing, promising to come back once he had put his beloved razors away. When he did come back, Gerard was complaining.
"He's so…ridiculous…the way he talks is irritating and he's bloody fat!"
"Who're we talking about?" Mr. Todd asked from the doorway.
Gerard jumped and turned around; he hadn't heard him come in.
"Oh, I'm talking about the Beadle." Gerard replied quietly.
The barber gave a small smile, more of a smirk really, but it almost held affection. He'd always wondered if anyone else thought poorly of the people he despised the most.
"Beadle Bamford is possibly the filthiest rat to ever crawl the streets of London. I'm glad to see I'm not the only one who realizes this." He stated gladly.
"Now Mr. T, that's a bit harsh isn't it?" Mrs. Lovett frowned slightly.
"Now Mrs. Lovett, who does he work for?" Sweeney mocked slightly, glaring darkly.
Mrs. Lovett glanced at him once but said nothing.
"Does he work for Judge Turpin?" Gerard asked, forgetting himself slightly and blurting it out.
Sweeney looked at him with a slight anger flaring in his eyes.
"That he does." He nodded.
There was an awkward silence. Gerard always hated awkward silences, so he broke it as soon as he could without simply clearing his throat and saying 'so…'
"Who wants some gin?" He asked, his voice coming out in a high-pitched tone.
The barber who had apparently been sulking again looked up at him. He nodded.
"Yes please."
"Gerard, one for me too please, love?" Mrs. Lovett asked.
Gerard nodded, rushing out of the room. Sweeney raised his eyebrows.
"Why the random offer of gin?" He asked out of interest.
"No idea." Mrs. Lovett shrugged, smiling fondly.
When Gerard came back he placed a glass on the table beside Mr. Todd, one on the kitchen counter and kept one tightly in his hand.
"Thanks love." His mother smiled.
Mr. Todd nodded at him as he took a mouthful, which Gerard took as a thank you. He listened to the conversation rather than joining in, and once he had finished his drink he excused himself, leaving the seat free for Gerard to sit in.
"So…what do you think of Mr. Todd now you know him a bit better? You seemed a little bit off him at first." Mrs. Lovett asked her son quietly.
"He's a bit antisocial, alright though I suppose." Gerard shrugged.
"He is a bit. Oh well, he's a sweetheart really, I'm sure." His mother replied, smiling.
Gerard shook his head. Mothers, always trying to make people seem sweet.
"Okay mum, whatever you say. I'm gonna go down to the bakehouse."
Upon saying that he got out of his seat and left the kitchen.
