The Last Pie

The cool spray of the ocean splashed onto skin as the foamy water covered their ankles, reaching further up their legs with each minute they laid there in sand. Their breaths were labored but their smiles content, as they stared at the stars. Nellie covered her face in her hands as a small fit of hysterics racked her ribcage. Sweeney sat up and leaned over her, concerned.

"Nell?" he removed her hands thinking she was sobbing in some kind of pain, but her face shown such unbelievable happiness, a large grin spreading from ear to ear. The shudder through her body was one of laughter that she couldn't keep contained.

She laced her hands around the nape of his neck and pulled him down towards her, kissing him passionately. She fell back against the sand with a content sigh.

"Now what?" Sweeney asked, his head hitting the sand as well.

After watching the stars in bliss for a few more moments, Nellie lifted herself onto her feet, brushing the sand off her bathing dress and hair. "Let us sleep my dear, we have an early day in the shop tomorrow." She held out her hand to him.

He accepted her hand with a loud groan as she hoisted him up. "It's already about three in the morning, pet. Let's close the shop for the day."

"Well, that won't be good for business." She complained.

"I'm sure the people of Grimsby won't mind going one day without a chicken and carrot pie."

She smiled softly at him, "Oh I suppose," she mused. "You'll need to make it up to me." She called behind her walking back into the cottage.

"I think I already have." He grumbled to himself. He took his time strolling towards the cottage, mesmerized by her skin and red hair that seemed to glow in the bight moonlight. She stopped on the back porch, spinning around to holler at him to hurry up.

Nellie groaned in disgust, as she continued finding sand in her hair well after she'd return inside the cottage. "I'm getting in the bath." She plainly stated, heading for the washroom. She striped her clothes next to the ready tub and lit fireplace. Even though much time has passed by now, she was still blushing furiously. She stepped into the warm water and relaxed her bones, relishing the blazing heat of the flames behind her.

The door opened and she purposely kept her eyes shut even as her barber disrobed his swim wear. She finally lifted her head to look at him and moved her feet just in time as he placed himself into the tub across from her. "You could wait your turn you know."

"The water be cold and covered in your filth if I waited." He smirked.

"Hm," she hummed, shutting her eyes and letting her head rest against the back of the tub. He surprised her again by taking in hand the flimsy razor that laid on the table by the tub and glided the blade gently up her soapy soaked leg. "What are you doing?" she jolted.

"Hold still, my hand could slip." he gripped her leg tightly, keeping it in place. She threw her head back with a loud sigh. Once he finished with her right leg, he moved onto the left.

"Perhaps I like them to be hairy." She teased.

"You're much more beautiful this way." He mused, continuing his work. She watched him in awe, to see how he got lost in his trade, focusing on every strand of hair she had on her legs till none remained. "Ah, beautiful," he mused placing a light kiss to her knee.

She was utterly speechless, while continuing to blush. Her brows rose as he shifted towards her in the water. For a moment, she thought he was going to kiss her, maybe placed himself further into her already spread legs but he surprised her for the third time by lifting up her right arm to shave her there.

"Really. Are you going to get, down there, as well?" her eyes darted below her abdomen as she said that.

"I planned on it." he said lacking any emotion. Where she felt as if her heart and skin were aflame.

"You don't need to bother, love."

"I'll simply clean it up a bit." He smirked.

When it was time for him to move over to her other armpit, she got a good view of his hands that we're still healing from where they had been burned. She grabbed his wrist all of a sudden causing him to almost drop the razor. "Pet," he protested, "Stay still."

"Your poor hands are still peeling a bit." She said her finger flowing over the scars and bits of dry detaching skin. "Do they hurt still? It's been almost a year, hasn't it? My God, how time flies."

"They're ugly." He stated.

"Oh please, while your there, if you'd like to see a scar that's really ugly." She turned so her left ribcage faced him. His fingers graced against the nasty scar.

"Horrid isn't it?"

"Hm," he mumbled still eyeing her left rib.

"It'll be forever won't it?"

"I'm afraid so."

She sighed softly. He cut the conversation short by quickly gliding the blade over her armpit, removing the hair in quick fell swoop. "That was fast." She uttered amazed.

"I'll need you to stand." He said gesturing to shaving her groin. Blushing furiously once again she stood up in the tub. "Don't doubt my talents again, love." He spoke and placed not the blade of the razor but his tongue and lips to her genitally.

She shrieked and wobbled off balance, he caught her just in time and steadied her stance. "Don't do that, you'll make me fall." She scolded. He snickered enough to show those devil teeth of his.

"Steady yourself." He said and the razor touched her flesh this time. "All done," he spoke after a few minutes.

"Ah, thank goodness," she mused looking down. "It's the strangest sensation." She took her seat in the tub once again. "How can I repay you? You can wash my hair again; I know you just adore to wash my hair for me." She finished her remark with a squeal as he grabbed her hips, pulling her onto his lap, and thrusting into her all-in-one flawless motion. She sighed in pleasure and rested her forehead to the top of his and held onto his shoulders as the water churned beneath them.

They're little endeavors in the ocean outside and in the tub exhausted both of them enough to have them crawl into bed, still in the nude and drift off into a deep sleep upon which they both awoke around mid-morning.

"Well since we're not opening the shop, I need to get supplies." Nellie said that next morning to a grumbling Sweeney. "Up my barber." She playfully yanked the blankets off of him and he recoiled with a scowl. He begrudgingly made it out of the bed and into the kitchen to make a cup of tea. "You're still nude, love." Nellie gasped when he left the room without a single care in the world. She sighed, shaking her head.

By lunch time they were strolling through town, Nellie hanging off his arm with a basket full of baking supplies in hers. The square was busy since it was such a lovely warm day out. Nellie gasped and rushed forward to the flower stall, stopping right in front of the daisies. She spun around looking at Sweeney with pleading eyes, "Oh love, we have enough for them, too right? Oh, they'll be lovely in my garden." She mused. He smiled lightly.

The woman running the flower stall was busy at the moment helping other customers. While awaiting their turn, they overheard a conversation the gaggle of women a few feet away were sharing. One of them just so happened to be their neighbor, Mrs. Taylor. She was glancing in Nellie's way and snickering amongst the women with her.

Sweeney scowled and tried to pay them no mind.

"They didn't."

"Last night?"

"Right outside my window."

More snickering laughter followed by, "It sounded like some injured cat, I was concerned."

Sweeney's hands balled up into fists. He looked over, praying Nellie wasn't hearing the mocking coming from the group of women. He thought of something to say to distract her, upon seeing her face, it was too late. She resembled the shade of a tomato and stared down at the cobblestones as if hoping to disappear within them. The florist appeared to help them and they purchased the daisies. The women's laughter and stares burning into them even more each second goes by. And Sweeney's anger was growing with each immature laugh that escaped their lips.

Placing the daisies and seeds in the basket, he turned around to place his foot on a cart of potatoes kicking it over causing a loud crash that muted the women's snickering. They froze in shock with full attention on Sweeney who flashed the group the most malevolent glare he could muster. Most of them shuddered in horror under his gaze and turned to walk away.

The costermonger shouted insults at Sweeney for his spilled potatoes, which Sweeney gave no mind to and dragged an appalled, embarrassed Nellie out of the square.

"In bleedin' hell's name. You're barking insane, love. Why would you do that? God that was embarrassing. All those people just staring at us. You could at least bother to help pick up those damn potatoes." Nellie was raving behind Sweeney on their walk back home.

"They were ridiculing us." He snarled.

"Ah so what? I've had other tease me my whole life."

"It's disrespectful and I won't have it."

Nellie sighed, staring over at certain tree in the field. "I don't care what others think of me, love. We'll be rid of this bloody town in a few years anyway. If not sooner."

To cheer herself up and to forget about the embarrassment knowing that their neighbors could hear her screams of pleasure from the night prior, Nellie was on her knees in the tiny garden she had dug in the front of the seaside cottage, planting her daisies in the soil. When finished, she dabbed the sweat from her brow standing up to admire her work. She looked to the sky, it was still the afternoon, what to do now?

"You know what else would make me feel better?" she asked to Sweeney once inside.

"What?" he mumbled from the book he was reading.

"Going to my shop."

The book fell to his lap and she could see the look of disdain on his face. "Oh, don't give me that look. I'm not going to open, I just need to work on a couple things, you know to prepare for tomorrow."

"Anything you say, dear." He turns his attention back to the novel in hand.

She sat down on the settee next to him, consistently leaning in close. "No." he spoke simply.

"You're not going to help me?" She pouted. He ignored her and continued to even as she inched even closer to him and nibbled his ear.

"Are you trying to seduce me?" he said.

"Is it working?" Nellie asked, placing her hand on his inner thigh and continuing to trail kisses along his neck.

"Unfortunately, yes." He stated closing the book and tossing it onto the table. She perked up, smiling brightly and removed herself from him, smoothing out her dress and knocking some loose dirt off. "You owe me a shag in the shop." He directed to her back at the door.

She cocks her brow at him, looking over her shoulder. "Maybe." She spoke.

Until the sun set, they stayed nestled in the Mrs. Oakley's Pie shop, cleaning and preparing pies to be sold the next day. They were just finishing up by wiping down the counters and tables, the last batch of sweet pies ready to come out of the oven at any moment.

"We're about done here?" Sweeney asked as Nellie was bent over the table top with a rag in hand.

"Just about dear."

He grabbed her waist, spinning her around to face him. Rag still in hand and smiling, she playfully wiggled from his grasped. "I didn't agree to this." she laughed.

"No, you clearly said maybe." He hoisted her up onto the counter, attacking her neck and cleavage with his lips and tongue.

"Sweeney," she gave in and savored the feeling and aroma of his kisses and proximity for a while longer before speaking, "Could you go check on the oven for me?" He pulled away from her with a sigh. "Please, love. Then I promise we'll head home and you can do to me as you please." She smirked, kissing his lips.

"I suppose, since you asked nicely." He left her heading into the back room.

With the rag still in her hand, she continued wiping down the table she was so passionately pulled from. The door opened with the chime of the bell.

"Oi, sorry dearie, we're closed." She spoke as a deshovled looking gentleman walked in, closing the door behind him.

"I don't want a pie." He spoke.

"Well, whatever it is you're wanting it can wait till tomorrow, now leave. We're closed."

He stepped closer to her; her brows knit in concern. "I've been searching for months," the stranger said. "Since Christmas Day." His bloodshot eyes looked into Nellie's surprised ones. "You killed my brother."

She tried to look confused and innocent. "I don't know what you mean Sir. I don't know your brother."

"You killed him." the strange shouted, "You, or your husband. He died in an alley across from the pub that you were singing at on Christmas Eve. You two got into a bit of a spat, that's what witnesses say. Then later that night he ends up dead." He finished his accusation by pulling out a pistol and aiming it at Nellie's head.

She took a step back in fear, holding her hands up. Before she could even try to reason with the man or scream for Sweeney's aid, a glass plate was thrown from the archway to the kitchen and shattering against the man's head. He stumbled, dazed before firing the gun. Sweeney and Nellie both ducked but there was no need, his aim was awful and the bullet collided with a spot top of the wall. Before the man could try again, Sweeney slammed into him, bringing down a cleaver onto his neck.

While the blood flowed and Sweeney tossing in more blows than was probably necessary, Nellie rushed to draw every curtain and lock the door. "Sweeney," she called approaching him, grabbing a hold of his forearm to stop him. His breaths were labored and he had that insane look in his eye. "Love?" She had let go and his arm fell back to his side, the cleaver landed to the floor with an eerie clank.

He looked towards Nellie, "Are you alright?" She nodded her head.

Letting loose a huge exhale she stared down at the body. "Well, that was random. What do you suppose we should do now?" Sweeney had fallen into a brooding daze. "Go to the law? Explain to them how it was self defense and that the bloke was raving mad?"

"No." he spoke loudly, "We can't go to the law." he walked towards the windows, peering out behind the curtains.

"Well, what do you suppose we do with him then?"

"The streets are vacant," Sweeney said coming back to her. "I doubt anyone noticed he came in."

She stared at him, still waiting for an idea.

"We have the supplies, right here." Nellie cocked her brows. "Let's serve him up." He sneered ghastly.

Nellie shook her head, "No, no I promised myself I would never do such a thing again. I swore it."

"Pet." Sweeney urged, grabbing ahold of her shoulders. "I'm afraid we don't have a choice. It'll be the quickest option and we won't have to leave the premise." She inhaled sharply, biting her nails, a look of absolute dread on her face. "I'll do all the grueling work." He offered.

"You promised me, there wouldn't be any more killings."

"I never promised anything," he spoke. "He had a gun pointed at your bloody head, what was I suppose to do? I said that if anyone dared to harm my family that I would send them to the grave." He kissed her lips as she remained silent for a moment.

"This is the last one," she spoke after some thought. "I'm never making a meat pie again."

"Fair."

"And, I'm not serving him in the shop. I couldn't bare to watch customers dine upon it."

"So what will we do with the batch?"

Nellie looked in his eyes a coy smile spreading her lips. "We do owe our neighbors a house warming gift."

"That's foul." Sweeney smirked amazed.

"Really, I think its brilliant." He trapped her into his arms, holding her close. "You know me, Sweeney, bright ideas always pop into my head." He covered her lips with his, greedily. "Let's get baking." He spoke.

They started by disrobing. "Like I said, I'll handle the grueling work." Sweeney spoke, taking the cleaver in hand.

"I think he was wealthy." Nellie said upon looking into his coin purse.

"Ah, this feels like old times." Sweeney mused.

"We are not making this a habit." Nellie called from inside the kitchen where she'd begun preparing the dough.

Sweeney hauled in the severed parts, replacing them with a bucket and mop. "How many do you think he'll make?"

"Well, he is skinny." She paused to think. "Six? I believe shall do it."

"You're the expert." He said massaging her neck and placing a chaste kiss to her cheek.

"Ugh, I'm exhausted." Nellie groaned.

"It won't take long." Sweeney left to mop up the floor.

After a bit, the pies were assembled and in the oven. While waiting they scrubbed the floor with vigor and burned the remaining bones and flesh. Once everything was clean and no trace was left behind, Nellie opened the oven. "Here we are." She said laying the steaming batch of pies on the counter. They stood staring at the pies as they cooled. "I think I'm going to be sick." She commented.

"Alright, let's go." He spoke. "Soon, we'll be underneath the warm blankets in bed and will forget that this night even happened." He mused, stroking her arms.

"Hmm, that does sounds nice."

Nellie found a basket in the kitchen that she assembled the pies in laying a cloth over top. She knocked on the door to the Taylor's home. The lady of the house, herself, opened the door. "Mrs. Oakley? I?"

"I know it's a bit late, apologies." Nellie interrupted her. "I was preparing pies in my shop for business tomorrow and I realized that I never gave you a house warming gift. You know to be neighborly." She held up the basket of the hot pies placing them in Mrs. Taylor's hands.

"Oh my," she smiled. "You shouldn't have."

"Oh, it was no trouble at all." Said Nellie. "Have a pleasant night."

"You too, ma'am." Mrs. Taylor called after her.

Pay no mind to any mistakes, I wrote this in one day/night which is unlike me hahaha. I was so excited to get it posted. I had so much fun writing it! As you can probably tell. I'll go back through and proofread later.

I need to make a shout out to Ratty Darling who is my new fanfic writing friend. She's so amazing and puts up with me haha she has an ongoing story called Opheliac which is beautiful and I highly recommend it!

Thank you!