A/N: Thanks for all the great reviews, oh wonderful readers! on with le chapter!

Disclaimer: I don't own Sweeney Todd

Nellie woke up early the next day. She was supposed to be going to the market today, to stock up the house. With a sigh she rolled out of bed, stretching as she walked over to her wardrobe to dress for the day. She flipped through her dresses lazily, trying to overpower the temptation to get back under her covers. She pulled out a dark black dress with red piping, accompanied by a silk corset. Another sigh escaped her mouth, followed by a grunt as she laced her corset up tightly. As she sat at her vanity, she was astonished to see the dark circles under her eyes.

Not much you can do there, Nells. You've been having those nightmares for the last 13 years of your life.

Yes, it's true. Ever since she had come back from her two year tour and heard the news about him, she hadn't slept properly. Her dreams were haunted about what they were doing to him, if they were abusing to him. Sometimes she would dream that he was calling out to here, but she was frozen immobile and unable to help him. She didn't know the full story, by the time she had returned it had been twisted and changed to suit each gossipmonger. All she knew was that it had to do with him, Turpin and the bitch Lucy.

She shook her head, clearing her thoughts as she brushed out her hair and pinned it up, adding a hat to complete the look. She opened her drawer and fished out an old necklace, clasping it on to her neck, where the dark colours contrasted her pale skin. Just before she could close the drawer though, something else caught her eye. It was a box. And more specifically , it held his razors. Seven chased silver razors, sharpened to perfection and with a gleam that could rival the brightness of the moon. She carefully opened the box, running her finger along the smooth metal. She picked one up and studied it, before shutting the case and carefully sliding the razor into her corset. It couldn't hurt right? London wasn't exactly a safe place these days, and even a woman like herself had to be weary.

Her boots clicked on the pavement , adding to the little tune she was humming in her mind. She didn't mind the walking, really. Of course she could have taken a coach, but she preferred to walk. It was much more refreshing than sitting in a cab waiting for a horse to draw you away. She was almost positive that one could get fat waiting on others to do even the most menial and simple tasks for them. So she walked along, holding her little purse tightly to her side, she knew all about pickpockets in the market. The market was a noisy place, but she loved it really. She was a social butterfly, she loved being around people, unless those people happened to be Nathanial Turpin and his lapdog, the Beadle.

And of course, said people seemed to be just waiting to spot her out in the crowds, just so they could make their ways over to her, to try and make the smallest talk they could manage through their lust clouded and perverted minds. She made a noise of disgust in the back of her throat, turning to quickly survey some pears and apples. She did need fruit after all. A single finger tapped her on her shoulder. She turned, a disgusted and disinterested expression on her face.

"Eleanor, so lovely to see you again.", he drawled smoothly, his piggy eyes drawn straight to her chest.

"My eyes are up here.", she said coldly, beginning to become impatient.

"Of course, of course.", he said, his eyes still running over her pale flesh.

"The last time I checked, married men are not supposed to be ogling women in the market, Turpin.", she said in an icy tone, her eyes glaring defiantly up into his own.

"But you do make it so difficult to resist you, my dear.", he replied, taking her hand to attempt to kiss it. She looked revolted and pulled her hand away, almost about to hit him before someone bumped into her from behind.

"Oh! My apologies, ma'am, I didn't see you there."

She turned to find a rather pale man looking back at her. He had black hair with a curious white streak in it. But his eyes- those eyes shot something through her. They looked just like-

But no, if it really was him, she needed to get him out of here before Turpin realized too.

"No, no, it's not a problem. Say, you aren't from London, are you? I've never seen you before.", she replied, turning her back on the judge and the beadle.

"No, I'm not. Well, I am, but I left a few years ago to travel and whatnot.", he replied.

"Oh, so you're a sailor then?", she asked, determined to speak to him for as long as it took for the judge and beadle to leave. Surprisingly, it took less time than she anticipated and she looked back in time to see the judge glaring at the two of them.

"What's your name, love?"

"Sweeney, Sweeney Todd."

And so, it ended up that Sweeney followed Nellie around while she did her shopping, mainly listening to her as she chattered to him. This also meant that he was her bag holder for her little shopping excursion.

"Say, Mr. T, (yes, they'd technically only known each other for a few hours and she already made up a nickname for him), how'd you like to come back for some lunch?"

"Oh, no, wouldn't wish to impose-"

"Nonsense. Come on, let's get going!" she cut him off already, moving away from him. He sighed and followed along. Their walk was slightly tense and he realized that she had gone silent and kept on glancing at him out of the corner of her eye. Just when he thought something must have been awfully wrong with her, she spoke.

"So, Mr. T, what were you before you left London?", she asked, suddenly reverting to her usual cheery stance.

"A barber.", his mouth replied automatically, his mind screaming warnings at him. Something was wrong. She couldn't know, could she?

Before he realized it, they were in his old home, Nellie leading him to their kitchen to rest the groceries down. He set them on the and turned, only to find her much closer than he had anticipated.

Her fingers ghosted down his cheek, all the while the depths of her chocolate eyes kept him paralysed. Her brow furrowed slightly as she ran her fingers through his hair, contemplating something. Finally she breathed in deeply, closing her eyes and resting her forehead against his chin. When she spoke, he had to strain to hear her, she spoke so quietly.

"So it is you, Benjamin."

A/N: Cliffie! Don't hate me for it, it just adds to the suspense and keeps you readers on your toes ;) Drop a gal a review? :D

~Ele