Author's Notes: This chapter is a little more steamy than the past few but I tried to avoid making it too smutty. Mild language as usual and a bit more awkwardness. A brief Anthony appearance with no real point...and lots of lovely Sweenett goodness... Enjoy!
Disclaimer: I only own the batty storyline I'm afraid.
Beneath The Blanket
"Oh…it's you," Was how Mr. Todd greeted Toby as he tottered into the room, armed with the dinner tray.
Toby had planned to act as naturally as possible on entering the barbershop but now that he was actually in Mr. Todd's room he found he was much too frightened to do anything more than scurry in, deposit the tray on the dresser and scurry out again, closing the door firmly behind him, glad to put some distance between him and the barber. He then made his way hurriedly back downstairs to implement part two of his plan.
Mrs. Lovett was standing in the middle of the living room, hands on hips, staring into space. She was dressed in one of her 'post-work' dresses for a change. A pale blue, tightly corseted bodice and corresponding overskirt decorated with rather faded, horizontal lace pleats. She didn't usually change out of her work dress but she had ripped yet another split in the skirt and had decided to discard it to her sowing pile and don something else that evening.
Toby sidled in behind her, knowing he had little time to put his plan into action.
"Marm?"
She jerked in surprise and turned quickly to him. "Oh! Lord! You gave me a fright, Toby! Don't creep up on me like that… Did you give Mr. Todd, is' dinner?"
The boy nodded hastily as she made her way to her chair as she always did. She eased herself into the chair and pushed her feet up onto her footstool, revealing worn leather boots and laddered pantyhose.
"If the business keeps going the way it's going I'll be able to afford meself sommore tights and things. Nice pair of slippers for the theatre… perhaps a pretty little gown for goin' somewhere nice…" She mused sleepily, laying back her head in the chair. "Oh, I'd love a nice, silk go-go-go-gown," She said through a yawn.
Toby watched her, only half listening to her gentle ramble. "Would you like a cup of tea?" He asked her suddenly.
She opened one eye. "Love, you wouldn't mind getting me something a wee bit stronger would you? Nice, bit o' gin wouldn't go amiss…"
He nodded and hurried to her liqueur cabinet for the last, remaining bottle of gin, pouring a good tumbler for her. He glanced over his shoulder, she had laid her head back again, her eyes were closed. As quickly as he could manage, Toby pulled out the powder again and sprinkled a pinch of it into her tumbler. Not as much as Mr. Todd's but a good dosage.
"Here you are," He said cheerfully, holding the gin out for her.
She smiled drowsily at him. "You're an angel," She sat up with trouble and drained the tumbler in one long swig.
Toby took the tumbler from her and took it back to the cabinet. Now all he had to do was wait…
--
Mr. Todd finished the soup and had to admit that it tasted a lot better than the last bowl Mrs. Lovett had sent up.
It had actually tasted of tomato this time and not just two tonnes of salt mixed with water. He drained the bowl and then gulped down the gin to quench his thirst.
Hopefully Mrs. Lovett would come up to fetch his bowl- WHAT?! What was he saying?! He didn't want her to come up to his shop… Certainly not… He glanced at the door. No… she wouldn't come up… It was almost ten; she would most likely be in bed by now or else fast asleep in her chair. That was probably why she had sent the boy up with his soup instead of doing it herself. Mr. Todd had to admit… he had felt a small twinge of what felt suspiciously like…disappointment when the boy had appeared rather than Mrs. Lovett… What was wrong with him? He hadn't felt disappointment for many years… he had numbed himself from such sensations as disappointment and guilt for a very long time…and then she turned up, clawing into every nook and cranny of his life and all the painful realities of feeling came rushing back to him…
With a slight sigh he pushed his bowl and tumbler away and took to his feet. As usual he wasn't feeling even slightly drowsy and as usual he had nothing to do… Nothing to do but pace and brood and dwell… Like every other night, knowing just below Mrs. Lovett was sleeping peacefully. Once, the thought of her asleep had infuriated him. It had once made him want to purposely wake her with his heavy pacing so she wouldn't have the luxury that he was deprived of every night… But now, strangely. Very strangely… the image of Mrs. Lovett asleep was a very odd comfort to him…
"God man… get a grip," He muttered, massaging his temples with his fingers as he began his usual course across the rough wood boards between the closed door and the darkened window. "She's… Mrs. Lovett…"
Mrs. Lovett, with her permanently crinkled and thoroughly ripped work dress (and total inability to sew). Mrs. Lovett with her un-brushed, auburn hair and incapacity to cook anything more advanced than tomato soup…(and even that could sometimes be only just edible). Mrs. Lovett who was nothing like his Lucy. So unlike his fair-haired, classically beautiful, gentle spirited, highly moral Lucy who would never wear her skirts so high or bodice so low as the coquettish Mrs. Lovett. Coquettish and… shapely Mrs. Lovett-
"Stop it," He commanded himself, as he reached the window and caught sight of his pale, harrowed face in the reflection. "Your wife is dead… you shouldn't be thinking like this…" No one should have been thinking like this…not about their landladies who for so long had been purveyors of annoyance and frustration in their lives.
Like her obvious dismissal of his masculinity. Why did that irritate him so? It shouldn't have…
"But it does," He said through gritted teeth, still staring at his reflection. "She irritates me…"
She got under his skin…with her knowing eyes and easy smirk and ability to make his blood boil with her blatant derision and Cockney drawl… He felt a twinge in his lower stomach followed by an alarmed swoop. This was not normal…he had never pictured her like he was before tonight…well not before the bath incident when he'd seen every curve, every arc, every line…
He gave a gasp, there it was again…that twinge…what was it? It was beginning to spread… Oh God… Who was he kidding…he was picturing Mrs. Lovett scantily dressed and he was bloody well enjoying it… What was wrong with him?!
--
"Ouch! Stupid, bloody needle…" Mrs. Lovett hissed, sucking her pricked thumb. "Urgh…sewing…" She roughly stabbed the needlepoint through the material and roughly pulled it through again not caring that it snagged the fabric.
She despised sowing…it was such a useless pastime. Who needed it these days, anyway? If a dress split, you bought another one… It was the way of the Victorian world…for the rich…
The needle kept catching under her skin and drawing blood and the constant moving of her arms under the heavy, stiff material of her dress was making her stuffy. Especially in the fire warmed area of the living room. It was odd though, because it usually took more than a little movement to make her uncomfortably hot.
"Toby?" She peered around for the boy and found he was gone. Probably to bed. Which was also unusual because he usually always said 'goodnight' to her before he turned in…
With a sigh she heaved herself up from her chair and wandered to the window, opening it a tiny crack and enjoying the breeze playing across her bare neck and chest. She closed her eyes and imagined it was Mr. Todd's fingertips drifting gently across her skin, his breath caressing the curve of her neck…
"Mr. Todd…" She whispered without opening her eyes.
"Mrs. Lovett..."
Mrs. Lovett's eyes flew open. Oh no…discovered…
She slowly turned to Mr. Todd, feeling too numb for embarrassment yet…
"Mr. Todd," She squeaked, realising how close he was to her. She could feel the heat from his body radiating against her chest… A wave of heat rushed across her… This was too much…He was too close and she felt too…drawn to him…
"Mmm" He growled with a smirk, leaning towards her. He was too close…much too close…
Mrs. Lovett leant against the window, trying to distance herself from the man who, in reality, she wanted to be with more than any other…
"What are you doing…" She asked weakly, feeling her ability to speak almost eclipsed by the hazy pleasure of having the man she so desired close to her.
Mr. Todd didn't reply, he leant closer to her, his eyes smouldering with something Mrs. Lovett had never seen there before…something different to hatred, bitterness and resentment.
"Don't…" She croaked, as his body pressed against hers and imprisoned her against the window.
"Don't?" He had his arms either side of her waist on the windowsill. The only way she could escape was to push him out of the way or dip out of his arms. The latter was likely to result in her face becoming level with his crotch… so she decided to attempt the former.
Placing both her hands on his chest, she pushed with all her might. He swung back slightly but managed to retain his grip on the windowsill. In retaliation he crushed her harder against the window, not caring about being rough. Mrs. Lovett didn't even feel the windowsill pressing painfully into her back. She could feel Mr. Todd's chest pressed so heavily against hers she almost couldn't breathe, she could feel Mr. Todd's legs pinning hers to the wall, she could feel his lips pressed against her neck… she could feel… WHAT WAS THAT?!
Her eyes snapped open. "Mr. Todd!" She burst out, trying to free herself from his clinch. "Are you daft? Are you drunk?"
"Mmm…does it matter?" He rumbled, smirking wantonly at her.
"Yes, it bloody well matters!" Mrs. Lovett said in a muffled voice from behind Mr. Todd. "Uh…don't… Mr…T…" He began trailing his lips down her neck. How often had she dreamt of it? Could she be dreaming now…?
"Mr. Todd…" She said quietly, as his lips fell lower down her neck. "…What's my name…?"
He moved back, so his dark eyes were on hers. "… Nellie…Lovett…" Fell from his lips before he fell on her skin with his mouth again.
So he knew her name…didn't mean it wasn't a dream… but…it did…feel really…
"Good God…" Mr. Todd suddenly growled, his hands had found their way to her waist. "What are you wearing under that dress… a chopping board…" He could feel the stiff whalebone corset below the material.
"It's a corset," Mrs. Lovett said irritably, struggling slightly in his strong grasp. "You…neanderthaaaaal!-
Mr. Todd had dug his fingers under her corset and with a firm movement had ripped the tightly laced bodice almost cleanly in two. Mrs. Lovett struggled fiercely against him; she could feel the bodice slipping away. She couldn't let it happen like this… she couldn't…
"Mr. Todd…" She whined, as he pulled away her corset. "Please…"
"I thought you wanted this," He whispered, letting her corset fall to the ground.
"I do…"
"And I want you…" He breathed into her ear, his lips just touching her skin.
"But you're drunk," She breathed.
He smirked at her. "With one tumbler of gin? How feeble do you think I am?"
"Mr…" Mrs. Lovett let her head slip back. She couldn't fight it any longer…she had to give in…
Mr. Todd smirked at her submission. He was almost consumed with lust. A lust he had never felt before. Not even for Lucy. A lust that had spread over his body like wildfire, burning and aching over his chest, in his stomach…between his legs… He had never wanted anyone more desperately in his life…
He licked his lips and drew them across Mrs. Lovett's protruding collarbones, drawing from her a long, shaking gasp. He loved hearing that gasp. He had to proceed. He pushed himself harder against her, aware that she was almost crushed against the window. He forced her onto the windowsill, so her legs hung down while her body was against the glass. He pushed her skirts up and allowed himself one last look at her flushed, lustful face. Her eyes were hazy with desire; her lips dry with anticipation…
--
Toby had been hiding in the darkness of the hallway for almost an hour now, listening to the sounds resonating from the living room, a few feet away. He had seen Mr. Todd descend the stairs and disappear into the living room; he had heard the jumble of voices and thumps but hadn't dared to move any closer to the room, in fear of what he might see. He wasn't stupid after all. He knew what happened when adults got hot and steamy. When you had a woman like Mrs. Lovett in her busty dresses and a man like Mr. Todd with his last, lingering remnants of handsomeness it was inevitable that they would want to… converse. Toby had lived on the streets for some of his life and he had heard the smutty stories. The stories about drugs and potions that made people want to… converse…
Toby had never had parents. He'd been put in the workhouse almost as soon as he could walk and he hadn't seen his parents since. He couldn't even remember their faces. But he wanted parents. Proper parents who were there when he woke up in the morning and said 'goodnight' to him when he went to bed…Mrs. Lovett was a kind carer but she wasn't his mother…at least not until she was married. Not that Mr. Todd would be the perfect father. He was a frightening sort of man and he had a case of lethal looking knives that Toby tried to stay as far as he could from. But he seemed to be the only man who Mrs. Lovett had anything to do with… Who else would she marry? Who else would marry her? He was her only chance…
But adults, as adults often did, seemed to think that they knew better and Toby had been beginning to think Mrs. Lovett and Mr. Todd would never…converse… So a trip to the infamous Miller's Apothecary had been in order and after asking all the necessary questions and taking the necessary precautions (salt in the soup as a practice) he had spent his very little spending money on a rather expensive pouch of powder promised to make even the most stiffly upright people…converse… Then it had been the matter of slipping the powder into Mr. Todd's soup and Mrs. Lovett's gin and observing the results. The almost immediate results…
He could now hear a steady thumping sound against the window within the living room and blushed slightly in the darkness. It was time for bed… Even as he made his way quickly to his room he couldn't help congratulating himself. Someone had to take matters into their own hands and in this case it just so happened to be a twelve-year-old boy.
--
Mr. Todd woke up with his neck in considerable pain, it being jammed upright against the settee arm. He blinked blearily around him; sunshine was streaming in through the usually curtained window, assaulting his sleep heavy eyes. He tried to move and found that he was being pinned to the settee under the weight of something…or someone. He craned his neck and with a jolt of intense horror, saw the sleeping figure of Mrs. Lovett, a woollen blanket covering her from the waist down. She was pressed against him below the blanket and he then became aware of their mutual lack of clothing. Oh…bugger…
He tried to wrack his brain for the events of the previous night. He must have been drunk… There was no way he would have done this on his own accord… But he could remember most of the night's proceedings in alarming detail. He could remember Toby bringing him his soup, he could remember pacing his room, he could remember coming downstairs to find Mrs. Lovett half driven by lust… Urgh! How could that happen!? He didn't even like her! Let alone… doing that with her…
With a grunt he tried to shove her off his chest but she gave a resounding snuffle and buried her head into his chest.
"Argh! Get off!" He yelped, unnerved by the sensation of her lips on his bare skin. He bucked against her and she awoke abruptly, frowning against the sunshine.
"Whassgoinon," She mumbled, blinking blearily.
Mr. Todd gritted his teeth. He would never hear the end of this.
"Mr. Todd?" She said uncertainly. "What are you…what are we…why am I…oh my Lord…"
She didn't even sound shocked, just resigned. As if she were too weary to muster the effort to be shocked by the fact she had woken up unclothed, on her settee with a homicidal barber beneath her.
"Do you mind getting off me?" He asked through gritted teeth.
"I'm not wearin' anything!" She protested.
"I don't care." He growled and then, realising that could purvey the wrong message, quickly added. "Can't you use a cushion or something?"
Mrs. Lovett sent him a withering look. She had a point. A cushion was going to do very little. Unless it was a cushion the size of a large dog…and even then the process of getting to her bedroom was going to be quite a quest…
"How am I going to get to my bedroom?" She whined, not daring to move far from Mr. Todd's chest for fear she'd bear all.
"Oh, for God's sake. I don't know." Mr. Todd snapped. "Sprint?"
"Mr. Todd!" She burst out crossly. "You are being a complete… pig. May I remind you that you woke up on my settee so would you please be a little more helpful?"
Mr. Todd glowered at her but didn't argue.
"Now," Mrs. Lovett said primly. Remarkably primly for a woman dressed only in a blanket. "What do you suggest we do?"
Mr. Todd shrugged sulkily. "I could run-
"What about if Toby sees you?" Mrs. Lovett demanded.
"…"
"You are useless!" Mrs. Lovett said shrilly. "You're being deliberately obstructive."
"Deliberately obstructive!" Mr. Todd repeated disbelievingly. "What do you want me to do? Please enlighten me and I'll do it."
"Too late," Mrs. Lovett muttered.
"What?"
"Nothing," She said airily, trying to move her head upright but fearing that the blanket would slip away. "Now. What I suggest we do…is try and… sort of…roll off so the blanket doesn't come off,"
Mr. Todd savoured this idea. It wasn't appealing but what else could they do…?
"Alright…" He sighed.
"Ok…carefully now so the blanket doesn't slide off…" Mrs. Lovett muttered, manoeuvring her body into a better position to roll off the settee onto the floor. "Let's go,"
They rolled and landed heavily on the floor, Mr. Todd giving a pained 'Oof!' as Mrs. Lovett landed on top of him.
"Are you alright?" Mrs. Lovett asked.
"Oh…smashing," Mr. Todd replied in a muffled voice from beneath her.
"Ok. Well. How do we get up…" Mrs. Lovett said bluntly.
Mr. Todd attempted to look at her. "What do you mean? I thought you had a plan!"
"Yes…this was the plan…" Mrs. Lovett replied mildly.
"WHAT!"
"Well. I thought something might…click if we got this far…" She mumbled into his chest.
"What do you mean "this far"? We're on the floor in the exact position we were in on the settee except now we're off the settee and stuck here." He said crossly. "I knew I shouldn't have listened to you-
"Oh and your idea was much better," Mrs. Lovett retorted. "Let's run through the house completely naked and not worry about the twelve-year-boy and passers by who might see us," She purposely used a particularly high-pitched imitation of his voice to irritate him.
"I didn't say "we" I said "you"-
"You're being unhelpful!"
"You're being difficult!"
"Your elbow…is right in my rib cage…and would you please move your knee from there…" Mrs. Lovett said crossly, squirming under the blanket. "This is so humiliating…"
"It's about to get worse." Mr. Todd said hollowly, staring above him with wide eyes.
Mrs. Lovett glanced up and slowly shook her head in disbelief. This was not happening to her…
"I'll come back later, shall I?" Anthony's voice was several octaves higher than usual.
Mrs. Lovett didn't even know how long he'd been standing there…dirty pervert…
"GET OUT!" Mrs. Lovett and Mr. Todd roared in unison.
Anthony gave a squeak and bolted.
"The bloody brat must have let him in," Todd snarled, trying to blow Mrs. Lovett's hair out of his face and failing miserably.
"Don't call him that!" Mrs. Lovett snapped and then something struck her. "Of course! Toby!"
"I thought you didn't want to scar him with the image of two middle-aged murderers running naked through the house," Mr. Todd grumbled deliberately.
"We have a blanket on." Mrs. Lovett replied stubbornly. "Unless you want to wait here until he finds us anyway,"
"Fine!" Mr. Todd snapped. He was prepared to do almost anything to get out of this vastly uncomfortable position… Mrs. Lovett's knee was right in his-
"Toby!" Mrs. Lovett hollered, almost deafening Mr. Todd. "Toby!"
She craned her neck, listening for the sound of his footsteps. Thankfully or unthankfully moments later the boy appeared at the living room entrance, looking slightly nervous. He peered around, unable to see the couple behind the settee.
"Around here," Mrs. Lovett called.
Toby sidled around the settee and his eyes widened. "What are you doing?"
"Playing cards," Mr. Todd replied irritably.
"Shut up. Toby, love. Would you possibly do us a favour? Would you move the coffee table so we can get to our feet?"
Toby obeyed, gripping the table and pulling it away from the entangled couple. Now that the table and the settee did not imprison them the two managed to (when they gripped their arms around each other's waists) struggle to their feet. Now, with the blanket covering both of them (only just) they shuffled out of the living room, very conscious of their ridiculous closeness. Mr. Todd's chin was shoved between Mrs. Lovett's ear and shoulder, his hands around her waist, his legs between hers. And they had to 'walk' like this all the way down the hall to Mrs. Lovett's bedroom. It was humiliating. Mr. Todd had never felt more like an idiot. He was donned in a multicoloured woollen blanket; shuffling along in the arms of his landlady for fear that the blanket would betray them and fall away. Mrs. Lovett kept treading on his feet and stumbling because she couldn't see where she was walking and Mr. Todd had to half waddle along to keep from trampling on her. Toby was gaping at them all the while from the living room doorway.
When they reached the bedroom Mrs. Lovett managed to open the door with her hip and they piled in. Mrs. Lovett wheeled around in search of her robe and spotted it on her bed. Waddling over to it, they managed to reach the bed and Mrs. Lovett struggled into her robe, her back to Mr. Todd, and fell out of the blanket in utter relief.
"Oh, thank God," She mumbled, tying her robe up.
"I agree," Mr. Todd muttered, still clutching the blanket around his waist like a strange, multi-coloured loincloth.
Mrs. Lovett fell onto the bed in exhaustion, no longer caring about having a man in her bedroom. Her reputation was as good as ruined so there was no use pretending she was respectable any longer.
"Mr. Todd." She croaked at length.
"What." He was at the door.
"Take that blanket to the laundry when you're finished with it…"
End of Chapter Seven
