Mrs Lovett found it hard to sleep. Her head was full of too many emotions. Love and hate, love and hate, in a wild, endless dance around her mind.

Love for the man upstairs, of course, and hate for his wife.

The time passed strangely throughout the night. Eventually, she found herself pondering how she could kill Lucy.

She had tried poison, but evidently that wasn't going to work. And besides, another case of poisoning and Benjamin would surely catch on.

She wasn't Sweeney Todd. She couldn't offer Lucy a shave and slit her throat.

She didn't want to wait, despite the fact that that was the advice she had given Sweeney. Mrs Lovett hadn't realized back then how all-consuming the urge for vengeance could be. Waiting was not an option.

What else was there? A stabbing in the dead of night? A shove into the sewers?

No, but that was along the right lines. If Lucy, in her delicate condition, stumbled down the stairs, she could die without Mrs Lovett drawing any suspicion whatsoever.

That was it. She could convince Lucy to go upstairs to see Sweeney up there in his shop. Place a few pieces of ice carefully and, with luck, the poor thing would slip and fall all the way down.

And the evidence would simply melt away. With all the rain in London, nobody would question the puddle of water left at the top of the stairs.

With that decided, Mrs Lovett finally drifted off to a sleep full of dreams of living by the sea.


Benjamin found it easy to sleep. For once, his mind was not occupied by thoughts of revenge.

To be with Lucy, he spent the night in the parlor. The couches, mostly for show, were not particularly comfortable, but it didn't matter.

Simply knowing that Lucy was there, although she was ill again, allowed him to breathe easier.

For the first time in forever, he could actually sleep.

Now, he felt home again.


Lucy awoke in the dark, gasping and panting from the memories of Judge Turpin's house. She heard Benjamin move in the darkness and saw his faint outline sit up.

"Lucy, are you all right?" he asked urgently, almost instantly at her side.

She couldn't respond for a moment.

"Dreams," she said finally. "Nightmares. They come too often, too often, too long."

He took her hands. "How long have you had these nightmares?" he questioned softly.

"Since…since…" She didn't want to talk about the rape, the torment she had experienced. Lucy took a deep breath and exhaled shakily, almost shuddering with the movement of air.

"Don't fear, my love," Benjamin said, helping her sit up. He placed himself on the couch next to her. "I'm here."

"I know, I know, and the judge is gone, yes?" Lucy said.

"Yes, yes, he'll never trouble you again," Benjamin assured her.

But the memories would never be gone. They would trouble her until the day she died.

"Nothing's gonna hurt you, not while I'm around," he murmured to her reassuringly.

Slowly, Lucy relaxed, leaning into Benjamin. He continued to whisper softly to her, words she didn't totally hear. It didn't matter. She knew their intent.

"I love you," she said, pronouncing the words carefully. They used to say it to each other many times every day, but she hadn't said those words in years.

She couldn't see Benjamin, but she knew he was smiling. "I love you, too," he said.

Without needing any more words, they turned toward each other and kissed. Lucy felt totally in control of her mind and she was happier than she had been for so many years.

Maybe the Barker family, though torn apart and carelessly destroyed, could have a future.


Toby awoke in the morning, wondering what awful thing would occur today. Two days ago, he found out that Mrs Lovett's pies were made of human flesh, and that was only the beginning of the horrors. Yesterday, Mr Barker's wife had been poisoned.

What could happen today?

He didn't really want to find out, but he got out of bed anyway, only to find a strange scene occurring in the pie shop.

Most days, Mrs Lovett cooked breakfast and took a tray up to Mr Todd, whether he wanted it or not. Toby often wondered if Mr Todd ever ate. He didn't seem to. But every day, Mrs Lovett brought him food.

Today, Mr Barker was cooking breakfast, which was an entirely odd sight all on its own. But Mrs Lovett didn't seem like she normally did either. She had been less chatty lately, but now she was sitting at one of the tables, staring off into space as though consumed by important and not-entirely-wholesome thoughts.

Something was certainly different about her. She even looked like Mr Todd had, with the dark circles rimming her eyes.

Toby hoped she would be all right.

"Toby!" Mr Barker called to him cheerfully. "Good morning."

Cheerfully. Mr Barker was not Mr Todd, Toby decided. They may look the same, but they were not the same person.

With that figured out, Toby wandered over to where Mrs Lovett was sitting. "Are you all right, mum?"

"Hmm?" She blinked a couple of times and looked at him. "Yes, I'm fine," she said dismissively.

Toby didn't comment further, but he didn't truly believe that she was all right.

He heard the parlor door opened, and turned in that direction to see Mrs Barker emerge.

She had changed into one of the dresses Mr Barker had bought for her yesterday, and she was beautiful. The transformation was astonishing. It wasn't just the dress. She also appeared saner than she had before and her hair was down.

Mr Barker smiled at her, another thing Toby had never seen him do. "Good morning, my love," he said.

Mrs Lovett glanced at Mrs Barker, Mr Barker, and then went back to staring at nothing.

Toby wasn't sure where to go. He wanted to stay with Mrs Lovett, but a part of him was a bit frightened of her now.

Mrs Lovett was acting like Sweeney Todd.

And Sweeney Todd had turned out to be a mass murderer.


Mrs Lovett had never killed anyone. She had tried, of course, with the poison, but that didn't work out.

She was ready to kill now.

Lucy's appearance pushed her over the edge. How could she hope to compete with that? It didn't matter how much she had done for Sweeney Todd, with Lucy looking that gorgeous, Benjamin would only have eyes for her, the same way he had all those years ago.

When life wasn't fair, what could she do?

Sweeney Todd had answered that question.

And Mrs Lovett would happily follow his example.


When Benjamin went upstairs to open up his shop, Lucy stayed down in the pie shop with Mrs Lovett and Toby.

She didn't like just sitting around as she had yesterday. Sure, she had been poisoned – whether it was the food poisoning or arsenic – but she was used to having things to do during the day.

Taking care of Johanna had taken up much of her free time after the girl was born, but before that Lucy had a job sewing dresses for the nobility. Benjamin had his barbershop, of course, but Lucy liked to feel useful.

Now, she didn't think she could go back to sewing. Although she had enjoyed it for many years, the long break she had had caused her to forget most of what she knew.

Lucy wanted something to do, at least during the times when she felt sane enough to function normally.

So she stayed downstairs and watched Mrs Lovett as she got ready to open the shop.

Eventually, she worked up the nerve to ask, "Mrs Lovett?"

The woman looked at her, the rolling pin not stopping even for a second.

"Do you think I could help you out in the shop?"

Mrs Lovett raised her eyebrows. "I've got Toby."

"Yes, but I thought it's still a lot of work even for two people to do. And he's young…"

"I'm old enough to help Mrs Lovett," Toby said defensively.

Lucy smiled at him. It was nice to see a young boy so eager to help. "I know, but wouldn't it be nice to have some more help?"

He thought, then nodded.

Lucy looked up at Mrs Lovett again. "Would you like the help?"

Mrs Lovett looked down at the dough she was rolling. "All right."

"What should I do first?" Lucy asked, standing up.

"There's a batch of pies in the bakehouse oven," the other woman said. "Go down and bring them up."

Lucy knew Mrs Lovett didn't like her much, but she hoped her opinion would change soon.


That girl was really annoying. Now she was offering to help Mrs Lovett?

Well. It would be easier to find the right time to kill her now, with her hanging around more.

Too stupid. Too lovely. Too sweet. Too naïve. Too trusting.

Too bad. Poor thing.