Thin morning light slanted down through the rooms only window and onto the occupied bed. The wane sunlight did little to warm the chilly air, and the woman in the bed shivered as she began to awake. She awakened fully as the arms around her tightened and she was pressed againest the warm body of the man beside her.
"Lucy," mummured Sweeney into her ear. "You're freezing."
Mrs. Lovett felt waves of cold ripple through her as he called her by his wife's name.
"No, love," she replied, her heart preparing for a harsh response. "It's Margery."
"Margery.." repeated the barber. "Margery Lovett?"
"Yes."
He didn't respond, and in the moments of silence the pie maker's heart seemed to stop beating.
"Mrs. Lovett?" the man finally asked. She felt his cool lips near her ear and she trembled, not knowing what to expect.
"Yes?" She spoke it as a question this time. The word had to come out slowly so she could stop her voice from shaking as much as she was.
She knew that Todd wasn't one for quick responses, if he responded at all, yet the few seconds it took him to answer her seemed like all of an eternity.
"I think I'd better go."
"No! Don't... please..." Her voice shook with normally hidden pain that showed that she thought that if he left her this once, that he would never come back to her again.
The barber hesitated. Lucy had never begged for him, for his touch, for what he could give her. A hint of how much he really meant to her flicked through his mind, and he sighed slightly. He hated comparing this woman to Lucy. But he realized that it wasn't because he felt as though he was being dishonorable to his first wife, but he felt as if not even she could compare to Mrs. Lovett.
"I can come back," he whispered to her, suprised at the words that seemed to fall naturally out of his mouth. He'd gone without a woman for fifteen years. So why did he want her to roll over so he could easily press his lips to hers and begin again what had ended late last night? He even felt his arms loosen around her, leaving her free to do just that.
But she thought that he was telling her to leave, instead of inviting her back to him, so she sprang daintly out of the bed and flitted about the room, searching for the various undergarmets she needed. He sat up and watched her nude form move around in the dim light. A tinge of disappointment registered in his mind as she slipped a pair of panties on and then moved on to lace up her corset. Disappointment... had he ever had such a feeling? Even as the Judge had slipped through his fingers, he hadn't felt disappointment, just raw anger. Had he ever really felt anything but anger before this? Even now that the Judge was dead and eaten, he still thought he was an empty shell, a ghost of a man. But now he felt strangely dissappointed.
Todd got out of the bed, slipping on his trousers quickly. Mrs. Lovett, who was adjusting herself in her dress, didn't notice him slide out of the bed and move towards her. She squealed as he wrapped his arms around her waist. He chuckled lightly at her reaction as he gentlely spun her around to face him.
"I said I'd come back." He moved one hand to the back of her neck. She gave him an annoyed look.
"I didn't know you meant so soon. Why'd you let me get fully dressed?"
"Makes it more intresting." He smiled at her, and her heart fluttered with delight. She pressed her cheek againest his bare chest, in complete bliss. He kissed the top of her head. He had just prepared to lift her head up when she drew away.
"Better open shop." She giggled as he glared angrily at her. "Now you know what I've felt like most of my life."
He continued to glare at her as she danced from the room. The way she played with him, the way she lured him towards her until he was bending to her wishes was incredible. He wanted so much to trail after her like a puppy. Part of him thought that she wouldn't be able to keep this game up and that he could soon have what he wanted, and the other part told him that she would do this until he broke, becasue she knew it would be better as his cravings for her grew.
The barber tried to ignore the pie-maker as he trotted through the kitchen, now fully clothed. His right hand even rested on the straight razor latched to his side in hopes that the cold silver would distract him from her.
"Good morning, Mr. T!" greeted Mrs. Lovett in her sweet sing song voice. Her hands were already covered in flour, yet that didn't stop him from grasping them in his own as she flitted over to him.
Todd leaned forward to meet her waiting lips, but at the last moment she snaked away. He felt his quick temper bubble up in him, and he instinctively drew the razor at his side.
"Dang it, woman!" he spat at her, brandishing the razor. "If you won't give me what I want, I'll take it!"
Instead of drawing away fearfully as he advanced on her, she grinned at him.
"Now now love, that's cheating."
He groaned, snapping the razor shut, and stalked out of the room and up the stairs into his own shop. She smiled to herself and worked at the dough in front of her. She had waited for over 20 years, and he could wait a day. Or two. Or however long in would take him to break.
Back up in the shop, Sweeney set about the task of polishing his razors and dusting off his chair. His thoughts, which normally drifted towards Lucy, went immeadiatly to the nude form of Mrs. Lovett, and he felt the saliva in his mouth grow warm with want. Soon he was pulled from his thoughts by a jangling bell.
The customer was a seafaring man. The barber knew this by the smell of salt that seemed to eat up the clean air and by the client's weathered face.
"Good morning, sir. Come in for a shave, have we?" greeted Todd, gesturing for the man to sit.
The man examined the room carefully while undoing his necktie. He then ran his eyes down the barber, a judgemental sneer forming on his face.
"I come to get cleaned up before going back downstairs to that lovely pie maker," said the man, now sitting in the chair. "I visited her shop for breakfast, and she seemed eager enough."
Rage boiled inside the barber at the thought of another man even looking at Mrs. Lovett. He hid it well from his client, and sat down his razor so he could gently brush shaving cream on the man's face.
"She came right up to me," began the man. "Was all over me, she was."
Sweeney realized that this was another step in her plan. He was glad that this time he didn't have to hold in his anger. He picked up the razor again and made as to begin his duty, but at the last moment, he stabbed the man viciously in the throat. Liquid spurted from the life taking cut and covered the barber's face. The barber laughed wrathfully and slammed his foot on the lever, sending the man down to the cellar. He smiled victoriously as he heard the crack of skull on stone. Wiping the blood off of his face, he felt suddenly refreshed and began to quickly scrub the blood from the floor and from his blade.
The man glanced up as he heard a growling sound from the corner of the room. He had not seen the dog that had trotted in the room behind the man he just 'polished off', as it had been hiding. Now the dog was advancing slowly towards his master's killer, and Sweeney scrambled back, quickly snatching his razor from where it was laying on the ground inches away. The dog lunged, letting out a bloodthirsty howl. He ripped his teeth into the man's arm, loyal vengance shining in the animal's reddening eyes. Todd screamed slightly as his own blood attempted to stain the already soaked shirt. He swiped at the dog with his razor, cutting it's muzzle, but the dog didn't let go. They writhed on the floor for a moment, until Sweeney got a clear opening and quickly dispatched the animal. He screamed again as the now dead dog still clung to his bloodied arm, and the door to his shop was thrown open.
"MR. TODD!" Mrs. Lovett screamed, her voice catching pitch with suprise. She slid to the ground beside him, quickly ripping the limp dog off of his arm. The barber winced as she did so, and she immeadiatly stammered out an apology.
"I've got to get you back downstairs," said the woman, more to herself then to him. "But there's alot of blood.. people will ask questions... Where's your coat, love?"
He pointed out said garment and she fetched it. Then she hurriedly undid the buttons on both his vest and his shirt, and he held in a groan of pleasure at her soft touch. He closed his eyes slightly, and she said nothing. The drip drip of blood was the only sound in the room, and after so much time of seeing it, it didn't bother either of the two.
Mrs. Lovett carefully slid the sleeve off of his left arm, and took a rag from the pocket of her dress. She tied it hastily around his arm.
"Get up, you great useless lump!" He scrambled to his feet, needing her support. She slipped his coat unto him and fastened it in the front, and together they managed to make it down the stairs and back into her house with only a couple of curious glances by passerbyers.
When they reached her parlor, she pushed him gently down on the couch, where he let out a grunt of pain as he laid his injured arm on the arm rest. The pie maker took the bottle of gin from it's spot and shook it. It sloshed slightly, so she pulled the coat off the barber.
"Hold on," Margery told Todd, hurrying into the back of her house to get a roll of bandages. She returned with the strong off white material and undid the makeshift bandage, which was already soggy. She trickled gin into the bite marks and cleaned the wound, humming slightly to herself. Soon she had tightly wrapped his arm, and the bleeding had lessened.
"I'll be right back with a clean shirt."
"No. Come here. Now, my pet." She cocked an eyebrow at the tone of his voice.
"Are you going to come get me if I don't?" A smile played across her face and she took a step away from him.
His answer was to heave himself off the couch and to prowl towards her. Her brown eyes immeadiatly glimmered with pleasure at the thought that he wanted her, and she let him back her againest a wall, where they both knew there was no escaping. He pressed himself to her roughly and forced her head up to meet him. She gasped for air and attempted to draw away from him.
"Mr. T!" she almost screamed. "You're hurting me!"
She attempted to push him away, but with little effect. This was more like the vicious barber that worked upstairs, and less like the man she had been with the night before. Somehow, she managed to slip from his iron grip. She ran a few feet away from him and stopped, gasping for air.
"What's wrong with you? Have you lost your marbles?"
He didn't respond, just stared blankly at her like he had so many nights before. The woman had thought that she had broken through to him, but she guessed she was wrong. He stood there, watching the tears bead in the corners of her eyes, still watching her as she stomped from the room into the kitchen, then down the stairs and into the cellar.
'Idiot!' his mind cried out to him. 'Why do you hurt the only thing you could ever love? Why do you ruin everything good that ever happens to you? Do you think that the years of slaving away has made you any less foolish? Any less naive? Well, you're obviously wrong!'
He still just stood there, not even wrapping his arms around himself as he grew cold. The voice in his mind sighed.
'If you're going to do this, you need to mean it. Do you mean it?'
Did he mean it? Did he really love Mrs. Lovett, or was she just something that took his fancy for a day or two, something he would later push away?