Chapter 3

"So that boy isn't your son."

Mrs. Lovett looked up, not expecting the barber to speak – he wasn't really known to do that, after all. His voice however betrayed that he still didn't fully believe her and that he wanted to be fully convinced.

"He isn't my son" she replied, wanting to make sure that he knew the truth. "He's my nephew, the son of my older sister."

"But what... why..."

The barber seemed truly confused by this and she couldn't really blame him. The situation was somewhat odd after all and it wasn't as if the man had much experience caring about other persons when she had still known him. Her motivations might be hard for him to understand, but she was certainly going to try to convince him.

"After you killed Judge Turpin, I... fled from London. When I felt that it was safe enough, I went to Newcastle. I knew that my sister still lived there and that she had no way of knowing for sure that I was the one responsible for... well. I found work in a bakery and moved in with her and her husband. Teddy was born when I was already with them, but both of them died within a few years and I've been raising him since. He can hardly remember his actual mother and keeps insisting that he's my natural son."

Sweeney was silent, obviously processing the information. There wasn't an objective indication of this, but she had the feeling that he realized that she was telling him nothing but the truth.

Mrs. Lovett was very eager to know his story; although she had very often tried to persuade herself that this was not the case, she was very eager to know what he had done after they had separated ten years ago. Now that the man himself was actually sitting next to her, the temptation to ask him about what he had done during the past decade was a big one indeed. But she forced herself to remain silent, sensing that the barber still probably didn't like to be pushed by her.

"When I went to Fleet Street, I had no idea that you would be here. If I would've known..."

Although she was very curious about what he was going to say, the barber didn't finish his sentence.

"I can't believe how foolish I've been."

It was another statement of which she didn't know how to react to it. The barber looked at her however, clearly expecting some kind of reply.

Mrs. Lovett simply looked back, not knowing what he was expecting of her. She didn't want to disappoint him – she wanted to say exactly what he wanted to hear. Losing him again, especially now that it seemed that his opinion of her had somehow changed drastically, would be unbearable indeed.

To her relief, he was distracted by something, causing him to look away from her face. But when she found him staring at her chest, there wasn't much left of that respite. Fearing that their was an inappropriate hole in her dress or something like that, she looked down as well.

It turned out that he was watching the drying blood that was left after his attempts to kiss and lick it away earlier. She watched him with caution, knowing of quite some of his strange tendencies when it came the red source of life.

But there was no murderous glance in his eyes when he stared at her, no sign of bloodlust. There was only concern and shame and even though this was something she wasn't used to at all, she was very glad to see it.

"I'm sorry," he said again.

The words were so strange when they were spoken by him, but she could hear that he meant them. She still didn't know what exactly he was apologizing for, but it was so good to hear it anyway.

"Let me," he said, as she reached for the stained skin herself.

The barber took a perfectly white handkerchief from his pocket. It wasn't an item that she would have ever associated with the barber. She took a proper look at his clothing when he turned around to fully face her. The expensive coat and the now soaked trousers that she had seen just before he had dragged her into the alley looked very different now that she knew that Sweeney Todd was the one who was wearing them. He had obviously done well during the years after the completion of his schemes. She was happy for him, but at the same time she felt rather ashamed of herself. She didn't even want to consider what he was thinking as he looked at her old dress and worn coat.

She meant to ask him how it could be that he could afford such fine clothing, but he was reaching for her already, beginning to wipe away the blood that he had drawn earlier. The baker flinched intuitively as he did so, for good reason being still suspicious of this man.

He hushed her however and the sound was enough to make her feel more at ease than she usually was whenever she was in her small home with Teddy. She tilted her head back without giving it a second thought, giving him full access to the precious pale skin beneath her collarbones.

She couldn't really see him because of the position of her head, but she was rather convinced that she heard him gasp. She had no idea why he would do so – until the soft fabric brushed against her skin for the first time. The pleasantness of the motion did rather strange things to her breathing as well.

The barber moved to her side now, supporting her head with one hand while removing the drying blood from her skin with the handkerchief. Mrs. Lovett's eyes closed on their own accord as she surrendered herself to the barber's attention, which made her blush slightly even though the gestures were innocent and tender.

As his hand moved lower however, removing the blood that his mouth had smeared there when she had thought that he was actually going to tear her dress away to expose her chest to his hungry mouth, their movements weren't quite so impeccant.

The baker's breath became heavier as Mr. Todd was touching her and she could hear that the same went for him. In spite of the situation she couldn't help but smile a little because the barber's perception of her obviously had changed so much during the past decade.

She had no idea however what had caused this and how exactly he felt about her now, and this realization sobered her quickly. Perhaps this was the reason that she didn't mind when Sweeney moved somewhat away from her as soon as he had cleaned her skin.

Mrs. Lovett looked at him again, having no idea what was going to happen next. Her eyes fell on the formerly white fabric, right before he pushed it back into his pocket. It was a strange sight to see her own blood on the barber's handkerchief, especially because of the way that the wounds were caused in the first place and the care with which he had removed the red stains.

She noticed that there was still some of her blood right above his lips. Not allowing herself to wonder whether it was disturbing or actually fascinating to see this, she pointed at it, bringing his attention to it. It would be unfortunate indeed if someone else would see it; being where they were now was dangerous enough already, especially now that they were reunited.

The barber wiped his mouth with his hand, but he missed the blood that the baker had seen. At the curt shake of her head, he tried again. This attempt too was unsuccessful.

Mrs. Lovett reached for the spot, pointing at it from a closer distance to help him. When her finger came even closer to his mouth however he did nothing to stop her and didn't seem to intend to remove the blood himself. Mustering her courage, the baker herself moved her finger against his face, brushing away the small red stain with her own fingertip.

Her hand shook lightly as she did so. Not wanting him to see this, she intended to pull back as soon as possible. Before she could do this however, Sweeney took her hand in his own, holding it in front of him.

Their eyes locked again and the barber brought her hand to his mouth with silent determination. It was not just her hand that was trembling as she awaited his next actions with much anticipation.

His lips brushed against the calloused skin of her hand, causing the baker to sigh, both because of the physical pleasantness of the gesture and the tenderness with which he performed it. There was nothing left of the aggression he had showed earlier, his touch as careful and gentle as the words he had just spoken to her.

Mr. Todd looked at her, as if he was actually gauging her reaction. She was very eager for him to continue but could do nothing but stare at the hand that he had kissed in awe, not fully believing what was happening.

This seemed to be enough confirmation to the barber. He repeated the action, his lips lingering on her skin for a few seconds longer. The baker gasped because of the totally unfamiliar sensations that Sweeney caused, not having expected anything like this even once during the decades that she had secretly longed for him.

Although she couldn't speak, he somehow seemed to be aware of how much she enjoyed his touch. He did it again, and again, turning her hand around to kiss her palm. The skin covering this part of her body was more sensitive than the other side of her hand, not as hardened by her long hours of work in the bakery. No matter how pleasant his earlier caresses it had been, it was nothing compared to the feeling of her palm being touched by his lips and tongue.

The snow around them was reduced to mud, the melting water mixing with the usual layers of dirt that covered the streets in London. The substance soaked the already thin clothing that she was wearing, but she didn't feel it at all, just like she wasn't aware of the hardness of the cobblestones she was sitting on. Her eyes fluttered close as her body seemed to cease to exist except for the hand that the barber was touching.

After what just felt like a few seconds however, it was over. Or at least, Sweeney let go off her hand and stood up, making it appear to the baker as if he was acting as if nothing extraordinary just had happened.

She forced herself to open her eyes and return later inwardly to the wonderfulness that his strange kisses had caused within her. Now Mrs. Lovett found him standing in front of her, extending his hand to her. She took it in her own and he pulled her on her feet. The baker looked around bewildered, not sure why Sweeney had stopped.

Without saying a word, he gently pushed her backwards. She didn't know why, until she felt the wall against once again. Judging from the lack of snow she felt against her bare skin, it was the exact same spot as where they had been several times earlier.

The situation couldn't differ more now from the ones before. The baker however still didn't understand what was going on and she was very curious indeed regarding the things that were going through Sweeney's head, what made him act the way he did. But complaining was the last thing she would do.

The pressure of the hands that rested on her arms was very light now, as he gave her the chance to stop him if she wanted to. Mrs. Lovett however had no problem at all being backed against the wall once more now that the look in the barber's eyes was one that might as well have been her own.

He leaned in to her again, this time slowly and a bit more hesitantly, as if he wasn't sure whether both of them actually wanted this. Even though she had absolutely no idea what was going on, she was more than happy to approach him like this again.

During the moment that he took to close the distance between them, Mrs. Lovett suddenly realized, with the small part of her mind that was still somewhat functional, where she was exactly.

There was nothing special about the side of the wall that she was currently leaning against, but as she saw the windows on the first floor of the other side of the back street from the corner of her eye, which were visible right behind Sweeney's head now, she concluded that she was now touching the wall of her former parlor.

In fact, judging from the position of the windows that she could just make out behind Mr. Todd, she was only a few yards separated from her favorite arm chair, the one that was most comfortable and closest to the hearth. She had spent more hours than she cared to remember just sitting there, staring at the flames, imagining what it would be like to be touched by the barber the way she wanted him to.

It was quite ironic that she had, in a way, found out already while being so close to that spot. The way that Sweeney was approaching her now however suggested that she didn't know anything yet. The look in his eyes couldn't differ more from the way he had looked at her when he had still been under the assumption that she had been involved with another man.

He hadn't given her a single clear reason for his sudden and complete change of behavior, but as his lips brushed against hers, she didn't need any explanation. The chaste kiss was very much like the very first one that they had shared. It couldn't have been more than several minutes ago, even though it felt like hours.

Instead of being overruled by something more powerful than himself, something that had indeed reminded her a bit of the craziness that had possessed him whenever he had been about to kill someone, there was nothing now that even remotely suggested that he wasn't doing this out of his own and free will.

There was no anger, no regret, when he pressed his lips more firmly against her own. His breath was irregular, just like hers, and it was a huge relief for her that Mr. Todd seemed to be just as overwhelmed as she was herself.

His hands tangled in her hair again, but this time to caress it and pull her carefully closer to himself. He angled his head a little, so their noses weren't pressing against one another as they had done before.

Although she had always imagined that she would be the one having to take the initiative as soon as she got the chance, Mrs. Lovett was rather content now just to let the barber take her to whatever it was that he had in mind.

She had always been sure that kissing him was the easiest thing to do as soon as he was willing to do so – getting to that point was the difficult part. Or at least, that was what she had always thought. But when Sweeney hesitated for a long moment, as if he was uncertain whether he actually wanted to proceed, she found herself being just as still as he was.

The baker however was as convinced as she had always been that she wanted this, even though she still didn't know how it could be that it was even happening. So even though she was afraid that she would ruin it somehow, she decided that she had to take the lead.

Taking matters into her own hands now that this chance was given to her, the baker experimentally opened her mouth a little. Her eyes were tightly shut and it was usually difficult enough already to have any clue whatever it was that Mr. Todd was thinking, but it was even harder now that she couldn't even see him.

He didn't seem to react and Mrs. Lovett's heart was pounding, but more with nervousness than anything else. She herself felt awkward, standing there in the dark alley with her lips pressed against those of the man she loved with all of her heart, but who she hardly knew any longer – as far as she had ever done so in the first place.

Fearing that she had somehow done anything that she shouldn't have, even though Mr. Todd was the one who had initiated the kiss to begin with, she pulled back, not wanting to risk to anger him again.

Just before the kiss was ended however, Sweeney's lips shifted against hers. She stood completely still, not sure what he was doing, until the tip of his tongue darted out from between his opening mouth.

Eyes closed, she responded to him as well as he could, trying not to pay too much attention to the frantic realization that the barber was actually kissing her. She met his tongue with her own, a jolt of pure delight going through her system when he trembled slightly at the contact and opened his mouth wider to allow her more access.

Now that he had crossed the invisible boundary that had stopped him earlier, he wrapped his arms around her, all hesitation gone. The kiss was slow and sensual as they familiarized themselves with each other, tasting and feeling as much as they could. Breathing was quite difficult to do at the same time, but neither of them were aware of the lack of air, the kiss itself leaving them light-headed.

The first times that he had kissed her, she had been too dumbfounded to actually feel and savor what he was doing. Which was perhaps a good thing, seeing the nature of those kisses. This was completely different now however. She could feel everything, was totally aware of every touch and caress, every sigh and moan.

He hadn't talked about anything that had happened to him during the past decade and she could only hope that there would come a moment that he would – that everything wouldn't be over as soon as they left the alley, to continue the lives that they had lived before they had run into each other.

There was something in his kiss however, something in the way he seemed to be cherishing her very essence as he touched her, that spoke of lonely and empty years of longing without hope.

As the kiss continued, it became more heated, defined by urgency and need. There was nothing left of the earlier awkwardness as they found a more frenzied rhythm.

Mrs. Lovett had never truly anticipated how wonderful it would be to be kissed by the barber. Never having known anything first hand but her late husband's clumsy and sloppy kisses, this was a delight indeed. She understood now that even the coy Mrs. Barker had kissed the barber whenever she had had the chance, even when they had been in public.

Lucy was however the last person that Mrs. Lovett was thinking of now that one of her most cherished fantasies was becoming reality. And if the fierceness and enthusiasm that Mr. Todd was kissing her with was any indication, neither was he.

Just like he had done before, he moved his face lower, kissing and licking his way to the part of her chest that her dress left exposed. This too lacked the earlier anger and aggression and although she had in a way enjoyed his previous assault, this was infinitely better.

He pressed her against the wall more firmly, but she was hardly aware of it. Only when he gathered handfuls of the fabric of her mud-soaked dress, hiking it up again, she realized that when he had done so earlier hadn't been simply a moment of madness - it was something that he actually wanted.

"Are you certain?"

She couldn't believe that she was actually asking him this. But everything was so unexpected, so important and so sudden, that she didn't want him to regret anything. She had the feeling that there would be other chances, in more comfortable circumstances – but that didn't mean that she didn't want to go on now, not at all. Just as long as they didn't potentially ruin anything.

"I am," he replied, his voice trembling. "And you?"

The baker could only smile, both because of the way he was reacting to her and the unnecessary question that he asked her.

The expression on his face was the closest to a smile that she had seen on it since he had returned to London after he had escaped from the colony.

He kissed her again, hands holding tightly on to the pulled up fabric of her dress, before he lifted her several inches off the ground again. She wrapped her legs tightly around his waist as soon as she could, causing the barber to gasp as their bodies were pressed together.

The baker's breath hitched as well at the incredible physical contact, feeling every inch of his desire. It seemed so unlikely that he could actually react to her in such a way, but at that moment the baker didn't care what had caused it, as long as he didn't stop before he freed her from the sweet ache that began to build deep inside of her.

She vaguely knew that they had to be quiet in order to prevent any of the dozens of people who were walking in Fleet Street at that very moment from hearing them. The alley had been rather abandoned so far, its reputation probably just as bad as the building right next to it. However, being found out by the people who she had escaped a decade ago was less appealing than it had ever been. Death seemed so much more crueler than it had always been now that she was about to have the barber in the ultimate way after all.

Mr. Todd didn't make it easy for her however. Instead of getting the last layers of fabric between them out of the way like she had expected him to do, he kissed her again. It was as breathtaking as it had been before and the baker tried to focus on the way his fingers dug into her hips in order not to lose her sanity as the barber's kiss seemed to reach her very soul.

His grip was loosening however, possibly because the kiss left him just as weak as her. Because of this she begun sliding down his waist; the muscles in her legs had released their grasp on him as well as the kiss had left her just as powerfulness as him.

He tried to regain his hold on her, but his hands found nothing but the fabric of her skirt. Mrs. Lovett had never been fond of the heavy and impractical things, but she had never hated them more as now, when they prevented Mr. Todd from holding her properly against him.

As she was almost tumbling down, unable to find her own balance, he intuitively moved his lower body forward, managing to pin her against the wall once more and prevent her from falling. While doing so however the sources of their want were rubbed against each other, causing a friction that was completely unlike anything they had felt earlier.

The baker cried out, not having any other way to express the pleasure that the movement had caused, even though she knew that they had to stay quiet to remain undetected. The barber mirrored her reaction, his grunt by far the most arousing sound she had ever heard, driving her only wilder with desire.

For a moment they just clung to each other, breath raging as the aftermath of the mostly accidental touch wrecked havoc on their systems. The lower half of her body was still pressed against his and it was a source of great torment, in both senses of the word.

She could feel with her entire being that he did all that he could to prevent himself from doing it again. She could faintly understand that he would lose all control if it felt only half as good to him as it had done to her. It was incredible to find out that she could do this to him, that she could influence the man that had always acted so cold and indifferent towards her this way.

He would also most likely drop her if he were to repeat the motion. The baker sighed inwardly with frustration, finding it hopelessly ironic that even if all barriers seemed to be out of the way, there always appeared to be something else, something annoyingly trivial, that prevented her from giving in to her desire for the barber at last.

The situation was completely surreal in her own eyes, but a part of her couldn't help but think how utterly bizarre the scene must be for anyone but themselves. Or at least, the baker herself knew that she would be rather shocked if she would walk in on a similar pair.

It would be strange indeed to find a man and a woman who were almost past the prime of their lives, so desperate for each other that they weren't capable of finding what they needed most, struggling for release in the small and dirty alley right next to the house where they had lived for so long without having a clue that anything remotely like this would take place one day.

"This doesn't work."

The frustration in the barber's voice was so clear that she would've felt it even if she hadn't shared the emotion to the same extent as he did himself.

He cast one quick glance on the small street, seeing the thick layer of mud and snow that covered it, and his face darkened for a moment when it became clear to him that it would be even more impractical to simply take her on the ground.

She was shocked however when he carefully eased her legs off his hips and released the grasp of his arms, putting her back on the ground as gently as the circumstances allowed.

Mrs. Lovett was horrified, fearing that he wanted to stop now that their first attempt wasn't a direct success. She didn't care any longer that their first time wouldn't be as she had thought. It was not that she had dreamed of wine and satin and roses and violins, but it she hadn't exactly imagined a completely unsatisfying ending for both of them either.

She didn't care any longer however, just as long as there would happen something; she was desperate for anything that could do at least a bit about the throbbing and burning sensations that were about to consume her entire being.

As soon as she was safely standing however, Mr. Todd kissed her again, the movements of his mouth almost as fierce as they had been before. But he was driven now by pure lust instead of anger and the baker reacted in kind.

The difference in height was somewhat bothersome but now they could fully lean against the wall and each other in order to stay upright, which was easier than it had been when he had to keep both the baker and himself in a somewhat vertical position.

He kept some distance between their lower bodies and even though she was very eager to feel him press against her, she knew that he needed a moment to regain some control over himself.

What she hadn't expected however was the way that he would spend the time until that moment. He stepped closer to her; there was only the smallest amount of space between their bodies, she could almost feel his heartbeat and the heat that radiated off him, just like she could hear his still heavy breath.

He reached for her again, lifting the hem of her skirts up again. She didn't understand why he did so at first, seeing that the previous two times that they had attempted that approach hadn't been exactly successful.

As his hand brushed with care against her stocking clad knee, she knew very well however what he was intending to do. Eyes widening as she gasped with surprise and delight because of the touch, she readied herself for what he was going to do next.

He slid his hand a few inches upwards. His touch wasn't as violent as it had been before, but it lacked the most recent tenderness. The way he caressed her leg now was willing and eager, but it betrayed his still badly controlled want for her.

The thin fabric of her stockings separated his hand from her skin, but it might as well not have been there. Her leg seem to burn at every spot that he touched, the way he groped her flesh causing her to moan quietly.

Heat began to rise within her, much more intense than the hotness that had spread through her body when he had kissed her. It was accompanied by a throbbing deep within her, its epicenter located at the point where his hand was slowly heading for.

Although he wasn't kissing her, breathing was become more difficult than it had been before. His fingers continued their journey upwards and although their bodies weren't touching except for his hand, she felt as if he set her entire being on fire.

The moment that he somehow managed to sneak his fingers beneath the edge of her bloomers and caressed her bare skin, her legs weren't stable enough to carry her weight any longer. As her knees buckled, the barber's other arm guided her against him.

She was pulled against his chest and buried her face in the surprisingly soft material of his black coat, wrapping her arms around his torso to hold on to the barber, if only to make sure that he wouldn't let go off her.

He lifted his hand again and she knew exactly where to he was moving it. She shut her eyes tightly in anticipation, resting her head on his shoulder and arms locked around his upper body as a sob of want almost overtook her.

His breath was labored and the realization that he was influenced so much by touching her like this only made her more desperate to feel him caress the part of her body that needed his attention most.

His fingers brushed against the wet fabric of her underwear, the only part of her clothing that wasn't soaked because of the melting snow. She may have or she may have not actually bitten the barber's neck as her being was reduced to the core of her desire, the barber's hand stoking the fire within her to an almost unbearable level.

Somehow, their mouths met for another kiss. Mrs. Lovett had no idea why he was kissing her; the risk of her accidentally biting his tongue or lips was big indeed now that he was torturing her in such an exquisite way. But it was good to feel even more of him, to be completely reminded that it was indeed Sweeney Todd who was doing this. And, more practically, she didn't have to worry any longer about keeping quiet now that the barber was swallowing her cries of delight.

"Eeeewwwww."

For a hopeful second she thought it was just her imagination, but as the barber froze just after breaking away from her, there was no way to deny that she had actually heard it.

The baker's eyes burst open as she heard the familiar voice. She looked over the barber's shoulder, seeing Teddy near the entrance of the alley, at the point near the corner in it that obscured Fleet Street from view.

The girl was standing next to him. There was a look of complete shock and incomprehension on her face, the snowball that she had been holding falling from her hand with a soft thud, breaking into a hundred different parts to mix with the snow that was covering the tiny street.

Mr. Todd's heavy breath was hot against her neck as he buried his head in the crook of her shoulder, as if he could somehow transport them to a comfortable and especially private location that way.

His hand however was still pressed against the core of her desire and even as her nephew was looking at her with big and innocent eyes, the unreliable lower half of her body rubbed itself against his fingers, hoping to find some of the pressure she still craved so much without the two children being aware of it.

"You can't do that Mum," he said cheerfully, as if they were merely playing a game, completely oblivious to the fact that he had just interrupted the best moment of the life of the woman who looked after him as if he were her own son. "You always tell me that a man and a woman just can't go kissing like that!"

The baker blushed, her face turning almost just as red as her hair, but it had hardly anything to do with shame. The reason that her cheeks colored was the fact that she was still almost as aroused as she had been just before the two children had interrupted them and judging from the tension in the barber's body, his situation wasn't much different.

There was however of course nothing they could do about it as long as the boy and the girl were with them and they didn't look as if they were going to leave them alone soon. In fact, the expression on Teddy's boy suggested that he was going to keep a close eye on them, if only to protect his aunt's virtue.

She loved the boy with all her heart but at that moment she could really strangle him. The girl's body language suggested that she'd rather be anywhere else than with the two stirred up adults, but Teddy was completely unaware of the tension and frustration of the two.

He walked towards them and the baker was both relieved and frustrated to the extent that tears sprung to her eyes when Mr. Todd yanked his hand away before the two children could see where it had been exactly.

"You can't kiss strangers, Mum," he said, looking very serious although the tone of his voice was apologetic, as if he felt that he had interrupted something even though he had no idea what exactly. "That's what you always say yourself."

The baker was willing to sank down on her knees in front of the boy, telling him that Sweeney Todd wasn't a stranger, but a man who she had known – and loved – for more than thirty years. But that would involve having to tell him more about her life than he could possibly now - as far as he knew, she had always lived in Newcastle. Her accent was something he was too young to notice, even though he subconsciously mimicked it often.

But at least Teddy didn't recognize the barber as the man who had simply flung him out of his way not so long ago and the baker was grateful for this, for it made the situation at least a little bit less complicated. Throughout the years she had learned to appreciate the small victories, no matter how insignificant they seemed in the grand scheme of life.

"She's no stranger."

Three pair of bewildered eyes landed on the blond haired girl, of whom Mrs. Lovett had almost forgotten that she was actually there.

"She must be the Chair Lady."

"What?"

Mrs. Lovett didn't know who the girl was, but just the idea that she probably was the barber's daughter made the baker dislike her. The fact that she said such strange things didn't work in her favor either. And the way she shamelessly looked up and down her body, taking in her disheveled state that she was in, made the baker want to teach her some manners.

Before either of them could speak again however, Mr. Todd silenced both of them with a stern gaze. The girl was quiet immediately, but the baker was less impressed, knowing how those eyes had been dark with want for her mere seconds ago. In fact, they still were, but she chose to ignore it for the moment, just like she decided to be quiet just like the barber wanted her to, in spite of the odd thing that his girl had just said to her.

There was a moment of silence, one that was very awkward indeed. Mrs. Lovett looked at anyone and anything but Sweeney Todd, not wanting to see the look in his eyes. He was either completely embarrassed to be seen with her, not wanting to be associated with a woman who wasn't the mother of the girl let alone in such circumstances.

Or he was still as heated as she was and in that case it was even less appealing to see this, because then she would be the one embarrassing herself in front of a child who mattered very much to her. His intimate touch seemed to linger on her skin, tormenting her even though he was physically gone. She still ached for him and she feared that if there was only a small indication that he was willing to finish what he had started, she would find a way to make him give her what she almost felt that he owedher now.

"I think it's best if we all go home," Sweeney said, breaking the silence at length and interrupting the baker's heated thoughts.

The tremble in his voice certainly wasn't one of embarrassment and the baker shivered herself as she heard it. She was sobered however by the actual words he was saying, cheeks flushing for a completely different reason than before.

How could he even suggest her to go home, after all what just had happened between them – didn't it mean anything to him? Or better, how could he pretend that it hadn't mattered anything, if only for the sake of her girl, while she could feel his desire for her even as he stepped away from her? She thought that he had changed – even though there hadn't been any explicit suggestions of this, she had felt it whenever he touched her – but now it seemed that he was still the same man as he had always been. Or at least, in the sense that he didn't care for her the way she wanted him to, being loyal – at least emotionally – to a woman who wasn't her.

"I meant my home," he added, interpreting the look of anger and shock on the baker's face correctly. "All of us."

Teddy didn't seem to be thrilled by the prospect and the girl looked as if she was going to object. Mrs. Lovett herself was far from happy to hear this. She wanted to be alone with Mr. Todd and didn't want to be dragged to whatever hole he lived in nowadays, probably with the girl's mother. The baker didn't want to be humiliated by having to be in the same house as the blond haired woman of Sweeney's preference once again.

He discreetly wiped his fingers on the already ruined fabric of his expensively looking trousers. The baker couldn't help but shiver as she noticed it, remembering where those digits had been only moments ago. She also couldn't help but be angered by the gesture however, hating the ease with which he freed himself from the evidence of her arousal, the proof of what he had done to her – what they had done and would still be doing now if it hadn't for the badly timed appearance of the two children. For a moment, it seemed to her as if he was freeing himself from her, acting as if none of their heated kisses and frantic touches had taken place by a mere swipe of his hand.

The barber stepped further away from her, seemingly confirming her suspicion. But as he was standing on the other side of the alley, a relatively safe distance between him, he looked at her until she returned his gaze.

His eyes were almost mirrors of her own. Darker and larger than usual, and very dissatisfied with the current state of events. Embarrassment for her was not his problem.

She had no idea why that was, and what kind of trouble she would get into if she and Teddy would follow him. The plans she had carefully made for today briefly flashed her mind – how differently everything had gone as soon as she returned to Fleet Street.

Going with him was against everything she had believed in during the past years. And yet, it took her only a second to realize that it was the only thing she could do. If she wouldn't go with him now, she could be certain that she would regret it for the rest of her life.

"All right," she said, after a few seconds of uncomfortable silence. "We will go with you."

The look of Teddy's face was one of discomfort and she didn't even want to look at the expression of the girl to gauge her reaction. Mr. Todd's face lit up however; it couldn't exactly been called a smile, but she could tell that she was very pleased with her reaction. In spite of herself, she was glad because of this.

He headed back to Fleet Street, leaving the alley behind. He took the girl's hand in his own, causing the baker's stomach to clench, and said something to her that Mrs. Lovett couldn't hear.

She had her own child to look after however. She walked to Teddy, who was still looking as if he couldn't believe what just had happened, and ruffled his hair.

"Don't worry," she said to him. "Mr. Todd is a good man. I've... known him since long before you were born. We can trust him."

She wasn't entirely sure of that last part – and some others – but she was comforting the boy almost just as much as she tried to convince herself.

"Let's go," she said to him, following Sweeney with the knowledge that Teddy would come after her – for better or worse, he always did.

Indeed, the boy ran behind her on his short legs until he had caught up with her, one hand sneaking in her own.

Just before they reached Fleet Street again, heading for an uncertain and unknown destination, Mrs. Lovett looked back at the alley.

There was one spot on the left wall that was devoid of snow, unlike the rest of the surface of the bricks, the ground beneath it being an equally dirty, snow molten mess. It was a silent reminder of what just had happened there, the only remaining witness. It would never speak of anything that had taken place there but, in a way, it would remember forever. Just like she would. It was a small relief to the baker; no matter what was going to happen next, the moment of passion that she had shared with the barber could never be taken away from her.