A/N This one's ridiculously long, so make sure you don't lose your page ;)

Esteemed Malevolence

Misgiving Part II and Bickering

"Then I'd better go and fetch 'em for ya, 'adn't I?" Eleanor said, rolling her eyes as she turned and passed by him, shielding the side of her face. She carried on through to her shop, but only to turn right to a smaller, narrower staircase that would have been easily missed to any visitor.

She bustled her way up the staircase, careful not to brush against the walls or there would be permanent blood stains etched into the wallpaper. Eventually she reached the landing in which there were two doors - one directly in front of her which led to the claustrophobic bedroom of Mr Todd, the other was to her left and led to the tonsorial parlour. As much as she wanted to snoop around her tenant's boudoir, she was still quite irritated with him and decided to get what she came for.

She opened the door and headed inside, a sharp gasp escaping her once a cold draft hit the skin of her face, neck and cleavage.

" 'Ow does that man stand this cold?" she asked herself, hugging her arms around herself.

She'd wanted to take her time and think to herself to at least stop worrying, but she couldn't stay up there any longer due to the freezing temperature. She rushed over his floorboards - which were strangely impeccable, not a drop of blood in sight - and rifled through his vanity for everything that he'd need. It wasn't long until she had a bundle of items in her arms - his precious box of razors, various brushes and lathers, and finally, his preferred cologne.

She huffed, her breath visibly white as she did so.

"Well, at least 'e can't send me back up 'ere fer anythin' else!" she exclaimed with a proud smirk, turning on her heels carefully as she didn't want to drop anything - especially a certain box filled with his friends...

Finding that her body was growing accustomed to the cold, she headed over to his window, which overlooked the cobbles outside... and she risked a glance over to the alleyway where Mr Todd's last victim had met their end.

Mrs Lovett's breath hitched and her eyes widened at the sight of a shadowy silhouette in a crouched position - due to the dim gaslight near to the passageway it was easy to make out shapes, but not good enough for her to distinguish their features at all. They were small, although they appeared to look taller due to the stove-pipe hat atop their head. From what she could make out, the person was nimble and focused on the cobbles... they were scrubbing them furiously with the head of a brush, and after watching for a good few seconds, Eleanor was finding breathing to be a great difficulty.

Someone had seen the mess.

The law would be onto them in a heartbeat.

Not wishing to watch in horror any longer, she gripped her arms tightly around Mr Todd's shaving equipment and she shoulder barged into the door she'd previously entered, galloping down the staircase, blundering her way back to him.

"Mr T!" she blurted out as she pushed through the parlour door, sucking in handfuls of air violently. "Mr T, someone knows about - !"

As soon as she entered her parlour, the panic evaporated from her mind as her line of sight happened to land on Mr Todd, who was fully at ease in the steaming water.

She froze and her wide eyes turned saucer-like when she realised that he was still completely stark-naked and she received an unimpressed glare from him in return. Luckily, the end of the wash basin blocked everything below his stomach - so that part of him was left to her imagination once again. He held the emotionless expression, however, he didn't appear to be uncomfortable about her watching him, in fact she swore that he was holding back that devilish smirk of his - his eyes were the tell-tale, that's how she knew.

The black eyes that were undeniably humored behind the masquerade of desolation that he always insisted on plastering on...

"I see you brought everything." he stated expressionlessly, her aching legs shaking slightly when he reached a dripping hand up to push his sodden black locks of hair away from his face for them to sit in a slicked-back style. "There was no need to, but thank you."

She vacuumed up more air as she opened her mouth to interrupt him when she remembered what she'd just witnessed.

"You're just goin' to stand there, are you?" he questioned bluntly, though his harsh tone was overrided as a breathy chuckle crept out from his mouth.

"N-No! I-I... " she spluttered out, and closed her eyes for a moment, moving her head to the right. When she opened her eyes again, her gaze was averted from his body and she walked forwards, towards the bookcase, where she dropped all the items she'd been holding onto the shelf's dusty top.

"Mr T," she began shortly, incredibly calm and composed as she leaned on the edge of the bookcase to keep herself upright. "I think someone's seen all that blood where ya... y'know. If they've seen 'at, they're gonna wonder 'ow it got there."

There was silence for a moment, and her eyes trailed in the direction of him, yet she did not turn her head to fully face him.

She kept her back to him.

"I saw someone there jus' now." she added in a hoarse wheeze, her voice cracking slightly from her inner apprehension. "They was cleanin' it up, Mr T! I don' know wot t'bloody well think of it. Should we be panickin'? Packin' our suitcases?! Oh god! If someone knows then - "

"Yet why would someone want to clean up our mess, instead of reporting it to a constable?!" he snapped at her loudly, causing her to jump from his anger-laced words. "Mrs Lovett, stop being ridiculous and think. You're a cunning woman, I'll give you that, but at times you can be so stubborn that you're blind. Can't you see that no one in this world cares about the droplets of blood that miraculously appear? They only care if they have all the evidence there, right under their filthy noses. There is nothin' for them to find, Mrs Lovett. Walls covered with blood and no body? 'How strange, it emerged all on its own,' that's what they'll say. We're safe. Cease this worryin' nonsense of yours."

She turned around, yet still didn't look at him, only focused on the mistreated rug beneath her boots. She was silent as she trundled past the crackling fireplace, and sat herself down on the settee, next to the book she had selected from the case before.

"Did y'see what they looked like?" he suddenly wondered, the sound of water splashing distracting her thoughts again.

"No." she replied quickly and curtly, shuffling back into her previous position, where she lazily laid over the cushions. She reached for the book and held it over her stomach for the time being, her eyes too lost in the fierce reds and oranges dancing in the fireplace opposite her.

Sweeney let out an frustrated sigh and lifted his head away from the side of the basin, peering over the edge to look at her. He could tell that his off-the-cuff murder had clearly gotten to his accomplice - he had put the two of them out in the open that night, and they'd been far too close to being discovered for either of the two's liking. From her slight frown, and the way her lips were pursed, he knew that she was recalling the events of the evening.

"I will not repeat the same mistake, Mrs Lovett. Don't have me down as a foolish man that does not learn from his past misdeeds." he spoke huskily, his tone alone was enough to force her to turn her head to face him - his head only visible as he looked back over his shoulder at her. "It won't happen again."

Her frown lifted and she nodded, internally her heart was ticking faster and faster. The very notion of them both having the same train of thought, and him being able to read her mind from her expressions made her swallow down her happiness.

She hadn't even had to utter a syllable.

Her eyes flew away from him as soon as he looked away and sat up straight in the bathtub, water loudly sloshing which made her swallow again. She couldn't deal with the strong waves of lust rippling through her and clawed her nails into the leather-covers of the novel in her palms.

She felt herself burning up all over, inside and out. She blamed the untamable flames, roaring away beneath the coal-stained chimney breast. But she knew it was because she could feel Mr Todd's gaze on her, stripping her all the way down to her bones in his mind.

Holding in a desire filled moan of frustration, she opened the cover of the book. She flicked through to a page she must have reached previously, the blood on her fingers thankfully dry as she held the flatter of the two pages with the tips of her digits. She brought the book closer to shelter her eyes from his tempting presence. She attempted to act oblivious.

It hurt not staring at him when he was right there.

She heard him cupping water over himself again, and she read the words on the page before her, but was unable to make sense of the sentences in her brain...

Her mind was on other things. Like imagining the pallid white of his chest and abdomen, the flex of the muscles as he'd move... the feel of his masculine body hair under her bloodstained fingertips...

Stuck with her head in a book, Eleanor failed to realise that Sweeney knew exactly what she was doing. She'd missed the smirk he'd shot at her...

He cleared his throat and shuffled about in the water, purposely causing loud splashes in order to put her off her reading. He moved to the opposite end of the basin, so that he could face her better, his smirk broadening when he saw a snippet of the worried expression on her face. He enjoyed the look of torture on her face... it amused him. But what he enjoyed more was the thought of her looking over at him, caked in red droplets, advancing confidently towards him with the intent of seduction in her eyes...

He soon found that his fantasies were taking him over and shook his head, replacing his expression of desire with something cold and stern. He couldn't have her hiding herself from him.

Not now.

Not ever.

"Why is it you bother with propriety now, Mrs Lovett?" he confronted in a teasing manner, and she could almost hear the corners of his mouth curling up into a malicious grin as he spoke. "We're alone for god's sakes! We could do anythin' now that we are in the shadows, away from everyone, away from it all."

He watched in interest as her eyes paused over whatever line she was reading, and her mouth dropped into a thin line, brows dropping with feigned irritation.

" 'Cause there's a time an' a place Mr T. Oddly enough, right now I don' really feel like makin' merry when you've up right killed a posh beggar willy nilly, and I've 'ad to 'elp ya shift the blighter down t'see ol' Lucifer 'imself! Oh! And 'elp ya tear off his bleedin' flesh an' all! Not exactly 'ow a lady expects a man to pursue 'er, is it?"

He actually scoffed back the coarse laughter that he wanted to let out. His brows rose in surprise at her and he swallowed back the laughing gas. After a few seconds of silence, he cleared his face of any trace of emotion in case she was to face him.

"Of course not." he retorted matter-of-factly, his tone still bitter. "But then you are no lady, Mrs Lovett. You are so much more than that."

She let out an insulted "Ha!" and then scoffed, taking her time in turning the next page between her fingers. From her eyes, she didn't look impressed. Sweeney wasn't sure whether that was because of him or because of the book...

"Well thanks very much, dear. I'll add it t'me bleedin' list 'o skills, along with all me other variety o' talents." she grumbled back to him, those chocolate orbs simmering with fiery passion as they trailed from left to right.

"In that case, s'pose you should add practicality on there too, pet..." he added hoarsely, and that's when her mask of annoyance fell and she let out a dirty chuckle, her eyes giving away that she was actually flattered by his cruel playfulness.

The water shifted turbulently as Sweeney pushed himself up to stand with ease, using only the power of his arms either side of the tub in order to do so. She ignored the fact she could see his blurry, pale form in her peripheral vision - from her face, it was clear she was no longer reading the text printed in front of her...

"I don't s'pose you could pass me a towel?" he piped up, her eyes widening significantly as he spoke. "Wouldn't want to ruin your carpets now, would we?"

She swallowed and placed the book face down onto the settee - at least she'd keep her page.

" 'Course..." she squeaked out, like the fact he was exposed just to the side of her didn't even bother her - but it was in vain, because as she reluctantly stood back on her feet and slowly headed towards the airer just next to the fire, he noticed that her fists were clenched in nervousness.

She folded one of the warmed towels over arm and slowly turned back to him, eyes glued to the floor, just as her feet took painfully slow steps towards him.

Once she realised that she'd almost reached the basin, her eyes dropped shut and she completed the last few steps blindly to stand right in front of him. Her throat was suddenly dry as her ears picked up on the smallest of water droplets dripping from his body, and the shallow breaths coming from him.

Eleanor cautiously extended out her arm, offering Sweeney the cosy towel, oblivious to the fact he'd lowered himself so that he was face to face with her, staring directly at her.

When he didn't instantly take the towel, a frown appeared on her brow.

"Ya just gonna to stand there, are ya?" she snapped at him in bother - although it was obvious to him that it was all a playful act, for her breathing had accelerated immensely.

He smirked at her cheekiness - he was beginning to enjoy her playing stubborn games with him.

"Of course not." he replied in monotone, yanking it impolitely from her grasp. "Don't be so silly."

She immediately backed away, standing in the middle of the parlour with her eyes shut.

"Tell me when." she whispered, though he wasn't sure why she was resisting her desires... perhaps she was afraid of what would happen? Or what she would do...

He shook his head with amusement and first dried his top-half with the frayed material, then touselled his hair briefly with it before stepping out of the basin. Blots of water scattered over the rug as he bent over to dry off his bottom half. Once he was done, he wrapped it around his waist and secured it in place with a sailors knot - that was only for Mrs Lovett's benefit, he knew she'd probably faint at the sight of him if the thing fell off, so it was a thankless precaution.

His bare feet quietly thumped towards her, his eyes studying her from the tips of her shoes to the ends of her auburn hair... he didn't want to see all that blood on her wash away, he thought it accompanied her appearance quite well.

"You may open your eyes now." he breathed, and she flicked her eyes open instantly... quicker than he'd expected.

He couldn't help but wonder what would have occurred had he said for her open her eyes earlier... perhaps it was a test? Then again he was sure that he did the most respectful thing...

Not that he'd wanted to.

She returned his examining gaze before dropping it to sneak a peak at his chest again then she pushed by him, already sliding the pins out of her hair. He swivelled around with a look of amazement on his face as she seemed fairly eager to undress. He was slightly confused whether she was comfortable with him staring at her... if she wasn't, he would have thought that she'd tell him?

Or maybe this was a test too?

He headed towards the bookcase with a curious frown, black eyes never leaving her as she flung off each of her shoes. He couldn't help noticing that she was noticably smaller without the heels of her boots. His breath caught as her hair tumbled out of its hold and fell over her shoulders, the orange glow from the room's fire and candles reflecting in each bloodied strand.

He took his eyes from her for a moment, to pick up one of the bowls from the bookcase's top. Once he turned his attention back on her, she'd apparently already removed the top layer of her dress... he swallowed at the sight of her - spattered with blood and stripped down to her bodice, bloomers and stockings. He exhaled a shuddery breath. She was in the middle of shimmying off the last of her soiled skirts when she turned her head towards him, her eyes just as dark as his when her flirtatious smirk painted her plump lips.

His palms were sliding slightly against the wood of the bowl as he stood observing her, so stunned that he couldn't muster a smirk in return...

She too watched him for a moment, taking in the view of his now perspirating form, which only added to the glisten that had already coated his opal skin beforehand. Even though seeing him in such an arousing state of dress was causing her to get lost in him again, she managed to get a grip on what was happening.

She cleared her throat, placing her hands on her hips.

"The mirror's there behind ya, love." she reminded him, her voice telling him to avert his gaze, yet her eyes pleaded for those black eyes to stay put. "Ya may well be the best barber in London, but ya can't shave yaself without a mirror can ya?"

He opened his mouth to reply, but ended up gaping at her as she looked away, reaching down to haltingly roll down one leg of her stockings. His want for her blazed around his body as the material peeled away from her to reveal the pallid skin beneath. His slippy hands clenched around the bowl forcefully, his eyes following the route of her hand as it pushed off the other leg's stocking.

Before she could step out of the gathered stockings, he darted towards her, swallowing. Her breaths turned into gasps as he brushed by her in order to scoop up some hot water from the tub. After completing what he'd set out to do, he paused before turning to face her. She was fiddling with the laces behind her - she seemed to be used to the nonchalance of doing such a thing by herself, unlike Mr Todd, who frowned at her.

"Stop." he ordered in a husky tone, bending down to set down the filled bowl near to the pile of skirts and stockings still surrounding her feet.

She obeyed him and stood still as he passed her side to stand behind her. His hands started to loosen her laces one by one, though she knew he wasn't watching what he was doing for he hovered his head over her shoulder. She knew this because she could feel the warmth of his breath on her left ear lobe, and soon his face as he nestled his nose in her hair, taking in her scent. She thought that the blood would have put him off doing such a thing.

'Then 'gain 'e is a murderer. 'S not like 'e'd ever think twice... ' she reminded herself, a breath easing out of her as her bodice loosened by another few millimetres. It was hard for her to think of him as a killer as he stood there aiding her... then again, she'd probably have changed her mind had she seen the way his hands furiously shook with anticipation or the way his eyes took on a shadowed mania of desire as he stood behind her...

She would have definitely been reminded of the true devil that he was.

Any other gentleman would have been cooing as they helped their lover with such a thing. They would have been chatting, asking her how she could wear such a thing all day. That's what she'd envisioned the Sweeney in her dreams doing...

But the reality of him subtly pressing himself against her back, of him trailing his nose down from her locks to graze his lips at her neck without a word, of him yanking at the last of the laces impatiently...

It was better than she had ever imagined.

She leaned her head back, allowing him to press a firm, damp kiss to her throat. He lingered there as the bodice fell from her sides and front... to which her hands jolted upwards to hold the material to her chest in order to hide herself from him. He paused and studied the skin of her cleavage, or at least what she allowed him to see, which wasn't much more than the usual. He scowled with rejection as she gently moved away from him, still pressing the bodice to her skin.

Filled with intense want, and now undeniably aroused, he humphed and circled around her so that he was in front of her again, but only so that he could bend down to pick his bowl of water back up. On his way up to standing, he slowly trailed his eyes over her body, only turning away once he'd given her a threatening yet alluring look before walking away towards the bookcase.

Eleanor sighed, although she wasn't sure whether that was because she was disappointed or because she wasn't used to them both being so... exposed.

Sweeney prepared his lather as she tried to quietly slide off her bloomers. She kept on glancing towards him every time she moved, and especially once she stepped out of the bundle of clothes at her feet...

By then he'd moved himself in front of the mirror - situated next to the bookshelf and mantelpiece - applying the lather to his face with one of his lather brushes.

Her eyes stayed on him as she let the bodice carefully fall from her front, revealing her nude form. Gulping, she stepped into the wash basin, a sigh escaping her as soon as her bones hit the warm water. Something about her knowing that Sweeney had already been in the water made her shiver with delight...

Sneaking a glance at her in the reflection in the mirror, he brought the blade of his razor to patches of stubble on his cheek, above one of his sideburns... he swiftly swiped away the stubble, focusing back on her as she tilted her head back, strands of her dark red hair falling backwards, her relaxed position revealing the porcelain skin from her face down to the tops of her breasts...

He took a second to tidy up the opposite cheek to match the other.

"Been waitin' t'do 'is all day!" she breathed out heavily, closing her eyes peacefully. He smirked darkly and closed his razor, slowly heading back to the bookcase and the bowl of water. He cupped the liquid from the bowl over his skin, washing off all of the shaving foam. He left his face damp, too impatient to see what his accomplice was doing behind him to care that he hadn't dried properly.

Immediately, as he focused on her once more, he noticed the vivid crimson in her hair again... he hadn't recalled it being so red before.

"You're not washin' your hair?" he asked curiously, stalking by her to sit on the couch, apparently in no rush to be dressed.

"Naa, there's no point doin' that 'til the weekend. I mean s'only gonna get bloodier, ain't it?"

"Then it's no wonder your hair is so red, pet."

She shot him an irritated glare as she snatched up one of the scrubbing brushes that had been poised on the edge of the basin, rubbing the bristles firmly over her fingernails.

He smirked at her reaction, not to mention the droplets of blood coming away from her cuticles. She bit down on her bottom lip to stop her own amusement, the last thing she wanted to do was to encourage the man.

Not that she had to do such a thing, he was going to carry on teasing anyway.

"I must say Mrs Lovett," he began lowly, and hoarsely, as he subtly glanced over at the title of the novel she'd been reading. "It's a shame that you have to wash yourself. You looked rather appetising with all that blood on you."

"Ha! Oh did I? Even though I smell like a bleedin' rottin' corpse by now. Don't tell me ya 'aven't noticed it, I know that ya 'ave!"

He stifled a laugh when he realised she'd been reading a rather risque romance novel and averted his eyes from the book's cover, masking his amusement with complete uninterest.

"You do not stink Mrs Lovett. And don't turn what I say around on itself. I meant to say that I liked the messy look on you, is all." he said in monotone, his voice's quiet volume sounding more dangerous than when he raised it into a yell.

She smirked, and looked back at him over her shoulder, his annoyed eyes darting towards her - the glint of mischief was something he was unable to conceal.

"Well... you oughta come down 'ere more often then, 'adn't ya?" she finally replied suggestively, turning her head away from him to focus on cleansing her skin of blood.

"I ought to do a lot of things down here, pet. Present company's attendance would be compulsory, of course."

She paused in surprise at his not so subtle flirtation and felt herself glowing warmer by the second. He noticed her freezing her movements and grinned to himself, tipping up the book so that the spine sat in his palms. He silently began to read the page that she had reached, and his eyes widened as he realised just what kind of scene was occurring...

"You could 'ave at least read this one out, Mrs Lovett," he taunted wickedly, causing her to shoot up out of the deep red, almost black water to a standing position - but he was too far into reading to notice her bare body to the side of his view. She jumped out of the basin, all feeling of anxiety of him seeing her exposed being neglected as she sprinted across the carpet to snatch her towel from it place by the fire.

"If I'd known that this is what you spend y'time entertainin' y'self with, I would've surely joined you down 'ere sooner, pet."

Her face flushed bright red, but this time she couldn't hide her embarrassment under all of the splotches of clotted blood. He lifted his head to smirk at her, but as soon as his eyes met with the drenched sight of her, his intentions changed.

He was reminded of that evening in that broom cupboard, when the two of them had been soaked to their bones, pressed against each other with no escape...

Too caught up in his memories he found his voice box rebelling against his better judgement.

"May I?" he whispered, standing with a drunken look upon his face. She wondered whether all that gin had finally hit him because she couldn't comprehend what he was referring to... until he started doing what he wanted without her reply anyway.

He took a few steps forward and roughly seized her by her sides, kneading circles there just as firmly.

"Let me dry you." he panted out in an almost pleading breath, those conniving, slender hands already sliding around the towel, beneath the curve of her breasts to grab a bunched up section of the towel behind her. Her eyes grew as he lowered his head to peck kisses over her throat, those hands brushing the towel against the skin beneath... until they soon realised they had to move somewhere else. She failed to surpress her moans as the soft pecks he pressed into her, soon grew into hungry teeth grazing over her neck. The hands soon grew impatient, sliding up and down her body, feeling the undisclosed curves of her figure, which were no longer hidden by the dress and corset.

" 'S not likely that I'm gonna be dry wi' the way you're goin' now, Mr T..." she said hoarsely, causing him to pause and tilt his head upwards, so they were chin to chin, bottomless eyes stabbing into her intoxicated chocolate pools.

She was too fixed on his gaze to recognise that wily smirk tugging on his lips.

God, he wanted her.

He wasn't sure if it was the gin that had made him so insistent with her, or whether it was just his own mind leading him astray. He should have been keeping his distance - he scolded himself for not leaving once he'd bathed himself. Him staying there and taking interest in his accomplice was incredibly inappropriate...

Then again, if something was inappropriate he would always get sucked in.

She gently pushed him from her, but confidently placed a chaste kiss on his lips, grinning proudly as his hands loosened from her and she backed away. She wanted to carry on just as much as he did, but she didn't have the energy.

The two of them awkwardly shuffled around each other, retrieving their undergarments from the floor. Luckily as they had been dropped their attires at opposite ends of the parlour, they immediately discarded their towels thoughtlessly and shoved on their clothes...

They never glanced back to each other as they pulled on their undergarments, knowing that their anticipation would have been broken if they did.

They held their damp towels as bundles in their arms and they both had the same idea, walking towards the airer next to the fireplace.

Mrs Lovett withheld a gasp as she caught sight of how little he actually had on compared to her. She had her bloomers covering her legs and her bodice loosely clinging to her torso, whilst he was content in being clad in only his undershorts. She expected him to go back to the other side of the room in order to dress fully, but he sneakily stroked his hand down the side of her bare forearm as he passed her, clenching his grip around her to tug her to follow him.

He pulled her to sit down on the settee forcefully, throwing the book carelessly out of the way so that he could sit next to her, causing it to loudly thud against the floor.

Eleanor scowled at Sweeney, wondering what on Earth he was doing as he turned away from her, lifting the bottle of gin up to refill her glass, and to top up his. He studied her as he handed her tumbler to her, her hand snatching it eagerly from him. She needed something strong to stop her from saying something to ruin the moment.

She brought the rim of the glass to her lips, narrowing her eyes at him as she tipped the gin back in one flick, not even flinching as she swallowed it down. He didn't back down either, and necked his down too.

They shared a smirk.

She outstretched her arm that held the glass to him, quietly asking him to pour another.

He placed his empty glass on the end table and leaned forwards, using his index and ring finger to push the glass down, as a consequence her arm fell with it...

He closed the space between them, outstretching his arm to press a hand to the wall behind them both, lowering himself so that he was nose to nose with her. Their eyes drooped down as the skin of their noses touched, their heartbeats hammering away ten to the dozen. Their breathing sped up as he lowered himself further, grazing his lips over hers.

"Could I stay down here?" he whispered breathlessly, her eyes opening wider in wonder. "With the cold - "

Her eyelids dropped again as she cut him off with a chuckle, the air she pushed out through her mouth warm against his lips. She answered him with a small smile, already telling him that his wish was no trouble at all.

" 'Course, love. Y'd be barmy if ya went back up them stairs." she accepted breathily. "An' don't be worryin' 'bout Toby botherin' ya. The boy ain't been 'ere fer a while now, god knows where 'e's been. 'S unlikely 'at 'e'll disturb ya."

"Good." he said shortly.

He hastily closed back in on her to seize her lips with his own in a vigorous kiss, his arm collapsing from the wall to meet the other as it reached up to her auburn head of hair. His fingers were now tangled amongst her locks, her arms locking around his bare torso.

Her arms tightened as he pushed himself over her, forcing her to lay back over the settee. He followed her movements, their lips braying harder as he pinned her down. She hummed into his mouth, his hands forming into claws as he grabbed handfuls of her hair. He growled back as her hums of enjoyment got louder, the thin layers of clothing between them rubbing against them which only added to their pleasure.

Sweeney took his lips from her for a moment, their eyes opening to study the mischievous certainty in each of their irises.

"I've been waitin' to do that for a very long time..." he murmured throatily - she was sure that his thoughts were slipping through to her without his stoic filter watering feelings down...

Eleanor smirked.

She knew what he was after.

But she wished to ensure that he really wanted her. She still wasn't sure if he had just accepted that they were having an affair to ensure that he bedded her quicker... if he was that mad for her, he would have patience. Or she'd force him to be patient with her.

He could take as many damn lives as he wanted, but he'd have to damn well wait if he wanted to take her as his own...

As he returned to her lips, she melted limply, her body calm despite her heart racing. "Wait..." she murmured reluctantly against his lips, her eyes widening when he actually paused and lifted himself off her slightly so that he hovered over her.

"Not yet," he sighed disappointedly, eyes filled with frustration and his usual heart-breaking grief. "you're not ready..."

'You don't love me.' she thought to herself, searching his gaze for anything reminiscent of what she thought to be love.

Then again, she wasn't sure what such a thing looked like.

Especially from a black-hearted murderer.

"Soon." she said simply, though the sadness shone through her voice so obviously that his eyes changed to their usual unreadable voids.

He hated her denying them both of what they both wanted.

No.

What they both needed.

He was confused at the woman. He knew she was head-over-heels in love with him, so what was holding her back? He was completely comfortable with them both being intimate and had even admitted that he'd craved her desperately, so what was missing?

The barber left her embrace completely, sitting up straight in the gap next to her feet.

"You should sleep."

Her expression was one of confusion as she sat up, wincing as she did so.

"What? But it's not even that la - "

"Sleep, Mrs Lovett." he snarled through gritted teeth, glaring at her with a scowl. "Now."

She let out an offended breath of air and shook her head at him, pushing herself up to stand with all the effort her poor aching bones could muster.

She went to go and pick her bloodied dress and stockings from the floor but he growled out a "Leave them." and she silently strolled towards her bedroom door instead. She prayed that he'd speak again before she reached her door... but he didn't. She paused, hand poised over her doorhandle.

"G'night, Mr T..." she croaked out, suddenly feeling cold even though the stoked fire was still flickering away.

She swore she heard him let out a remorseful sigh... she wasn't sure though, her ears often played tricks on her.

"Goodnight, Eleanor."

She smiled to herself, not hesitating another second in entering her room.

As her door closed, Sweeney huffed out in annoyance, his mind's thoughts driving around in circles.

One half of him was mortified with himself. He felt ridiculous for trying to tempt her to sleep with him again... he shouldn't have been focusing on doing such a thing with her. He kept telling himself that his efforts should have been poured into slitting a certain judge's jugular...

The other half wanted to join her in that cosy bed of hers. He wanted to feel her all around him... he wanted to know what ecstasy she could bring him, what love he could feed from her to understand how he truly felt about her...

Yet he stayed sat on the settee.

Staring at her door.

Thoughts constantly bickering around his skull.

The only thing that night, that he was sure of, was that he afraid of really getting to know her.

Perhaps he was just afraid that he would want more after he'd been with her?

Or perhaps he was afraid that she would be his new addiction?

A/N Thank you so so much for getting this far! I have more planned but the chapters will nowhere near be as long as this. I've just kept typing and typing and I haven't been able to stop. Thanks to everyone for reviewing and following again, it means a lot :) There's more to come, and don't worry, I'm sure they'll both get together in the end... they just need a little push and give in to their desires ;)