Chapter 6

"It's a long story," Sweeney said, looking at her as if he expected her to be discouraged by this.

"That's quite alright," Mrs. Lovett replied, hoping that it wouldn't be too obvious to the barber that she didn't mind at all if he talked for a long time. In fact, she was rather sure that she'd be very happy to listen to him for a very long time indeed.

She had always found it pleasant to listen to him, as long as she could remember. One of the first things she had noticed about Benjamin Barker – after she had become aware of his good looks and kindness – was his voice. It was soft and rather slow, suggesting that he considered his words carefully but still wasn't very confident of them as he spoke.

Mrs. Lovett however had always loved to listen to him. His voice was the most beautiful one she knew, but she also appreciated the things that he said more than the words of anyone else. She found herself agreeing with his opinions almost always for a reason that wasn't even clear to her. Even during the few times that she and the barber had disagreed about something, he had managed to persuade her with soft spoken but clear arguments.

Benjamin Barker had never been a very talkative man; he had always been more content to listen than to talk. Sweeney Todd however hardly talked at all. That made the moments that he did speak even more precious to the baker, even though the words that he did say were almost always a way of expressing his love for his lost family and his hate for the world in general and the Judge in particular.

She hadn't seen him for ten years and it was obvious that a lot had happened to him. It wasn't as horribly drastic as the change from Benjamin Barker to Sweeney Todd, but it was obvious that he had made another transformation.

As she looked at him, she couldn't help but think that a part of him wasn't the demon barber any longer. He still looked like he had done ten years ago, but there was something about him that reminded him of the man he once had been.

It probably was because of the look in his eyes. It had softened, just like the tightness of the curve of his mouth and the formerly seemingly perpetual frown on his forehead. Even though he hadn't spoken to her much now, he had talked more in the short time that she had spent with him than that the Sweeney Todd who she used to know usually did during an entire week.

But there was also a change in the way he moved, except for the limp he had somehow ended up with. She couldn't define it, but he was more at ease than he had been when they still lived together in Fleet Street and this was somehow visible to her in his posture.

The most obvious change however was the apparent affection he held for her now. If she didn't know any better, she'd say that he loved her now just like she had loved him for as long as she could remember. The mere idea however was a ridiculous one and the baker knew it.

She still was very eager however to hear what had happened to him. Not only because she was rather desperate to find out how deep his feelings for her went, but also because she was simply curious about the way he had spent his years since their ways had separated.

Mrs. Lovett was quite happy indeed as she was leaning against him, feeling that his story was finally about to be revealed and that all she had to do now was sit back and listen. He however seemed to have a different idea; he distanced himself a little from her, until he could look her straight in the eyes.

"First of all," Sweeney said, "I have to apologize for what I did to you during the night that Lucy... died."

Although she was aware, even in that situation, that it was a rather inelegant thing to do, the baker's mouth fell open as she heard those words. She almost squeezed herself to make sure again that she was actually awake. It was clear that Sweeney had changed a lot since the last time that she had seen him, but never she had expected him to apologize for his attempt to murder her.

She was glad now that there was some distance between herself and the barber. Not because she feared him as she was reminded of the moment that he had tried to take her life, but because she could look properly at him now. As their eyes locked again, she could see the sincerity in his gaze, telling her that he truly meant his words.

"What I tried to do – what I did – was wrong," he continued, as if interpreting the expression on her face as one of disbelief caused by the regret he was expressing. "I have to say that I wasn't fond of you in those days, but I should never have tried to... kill you."

He obviously had some trouble saying those last words and in spite of herself the baker was so glad to hear this, to find out that he hadn't hated her as much as she feared even before that final night.

"But when I found out what I had done to Lucy, knowing that I would've recognized her if you had told me that she was still alive..."

The barber's voice hesitated, but for a moment it didn't matter to her. The way he pronounced 'alive' told her more than hundreds of words could've done. It made clear that he too now accepted the fact that Lucy hadn't been herself when he had killed her, that the woman he had married had been dead when she had taken the poison, many years before her body was destroyed as well.

"But when I realized who she was, what I had done," he continued, almost more to himself than to her, as if he still couldn't believe himself what he had done. "I felt that I had killed my wife. Not the Beadle, not Turpin – I. Only much later I began to see that differently. There's no way to deny that I took what was left of her and that I wouldn't have done so if you had told me that she still... somewhat alive. But eventually I realized that my wife was lost either way and that our life together couldn't have possibly been restored, even if I hadn't murdered her."

He looked at her, very much aware of her again after the moment that he seemed to have been lost in the past once again.

"I began to understand why you didn't tell me the truth about Lucy," he said, reaching for her in a way that was the complete opposite of what he had done ten years ago. "And I'm grateful now that you didn't."

The baker gasped, overwhelmed by the barber's words. Not even in her wildest dreams she had expected to hear this; she hadn't thought that Mr. Todd would ever see why she had done what she had. It was not that she had only lied because she wanted to have him for herself, even though she had to admit that this was the true reason that she hadn't told him that his wife was technically still alive. Another reason was however that she wanted to protect the tormented man against even more pain, to prevent him from finding out what his once beautiful and virtuous wife had been reduced to when Turpin was done with her.

"I want you to know that I'm truly sorry for what I tried to do to you," he said, caressing her cheek with a hand that was, to her surprise, trembling slightly. "I want you to know that I've forgiven you – that it was wrong of me to blame you for anything in the first place."

She tilted her head, moving her cheek against his hand. It was at the moment the only way for her to express how much this meant to her. He moved closer to her again, understanding her perfectly even though she was quite speechless.

There was a short moment of hesitation before their lips brushed again, this alone the ultimate proof to her now that he didn't blame her any longer for what she had done, that he had forgiven her and didn't hold a grudge against her anymore. If he still did, he wouldn't want to be with her in the same room, let alone kiss her.

The kiss was slow and tender, not quite unlike ones they had shared before. This was the first time however that the baker could enjoy it almost fully, knowing now that there was no reason to be afraid of the barber any longer. Because of this the kiss was even better, almost exactly of what she had dreamed of for so long. There were still many things that she wanted to know and even as the barber was kissing her, an almost endless amount of questions was distracting her.

When Mr. Todd moved closer to her and tried to deepen the kiss, she broke away from him. It wasn't an easy thing to do and basically went against everything she had longed for almost as long as she could remember, but she strongly felt now that the barber and she couldn't move forward until they were aware of the part of each other's past that they hadn't shared.

"I'll tell you everything," he said, eyes moving away from her lips to meet hers again. "It's just that I... wanted to do this for a long time."

Mrs. Lovett couldn't help but stare at him as he said those words. Of course, it was obvious now that he shared at least a part of the longing she felt for him. But the way he spoke those words suggested that his feelings for her went deeper than she had thought – much deeper.

It was better than anything she had hoped of, even as the strange events of that day had unraveled. But still, it was the complete opposite of everything that she believed for a very long time, no matter how much she had wanted it to be otherwise.

"I did," he said, clearly aware of her disbelief. "I do."

"But what… how…"

The baker hated the way she reacted to him, wished that she could at least put her thoughts into proper sentences – it was not something she usually had much trouble with. But this wasn't exactly a usual situation and both of them knew this.

"Please," she said, not able to bother any longer that she was using that word – again - when addressing him.

She didn't even know what exactly she was asking him for, only that she wanted to know how it was possible that he seemed to care for her in such a way, that his longing for her almost seemed to equal her own desire to be with him.

"I don't know how it happened, or why," he said, as his hands moved up to cup her cheeks, caressing her skin with his thumbs. "For years, I was so angry with you because you hadn't told me the full truth about Lucy. But as time passed, I began to see why you had done it. Like I said, I started to understand that you perhaps had done the right thing by keeping me from what had happened to my wife. When Victoria was left in my care and I was forced to build a proper life for her and thus for myself, the anger I felt for you was gone. And instead…"

The baker was desperate to know what he intended to say next, wanting to understand why his feelings for her had changed so much. It was as if she wanted to judge his motivations and changes, as if she could only trust him – could only really believe that he actually cared for her so much – when his reasons for doing so seemed valid enough to her. The desire was stronger than her need to find out who Victoria was and what the girl was doing in the barber's house, no matter how much that question was bothering her, even now.

He was struggling to find the right words and he was obviously failing. Perhaps it was because he hadn't actually talked for so long, as if he had forgotten to share his thoughts with others. Or maybe his thoughts were too complex to put into words. Either possibility wouldn't surprise the baker – but she was still in despair of his explanation.

There came none, however. Or at least, not the one she had hoped for – a chronological tale of the development of his life – and mostly, of his opinion of her - given in clear and simple sentences. Instead, the hands that had been caressing her face locked around her neck, pulling her closer to him to initiate another kiss.

For a moment, she actually felt somewhat disappointed because of this. No matter how much she had always dreamed of touching the barber like this – and no matter how pleasant this indeed turned out to be when it was actually happening – she felt that she couldn't truly enjoy his kisses and caresses until she knew what had caused them.

But as he continued to kiss her, the heat and fierceness of his mouth claiming her with a desperation that might as well have been her own, it didn't matter any longer. Although he used none of the words and sentences that she thought to need to understand him, there was something in his kiss that made very clear to her that his feelings were genuine, that she could trust him completely even though she didn't really know why, what had changed throughout the years to turn him into this different version of himself.

"I didn't understand it," he said, breaking a moment away from her to speak, "I still don't."

Even as he opened his mouth to continue with another sentence, Mrs. Lovett couldn't help but close the small distance between them, kissing him again. Her own inconsistent behavior was driving her rather crazy, but she couldn't help it – it was just that she couldn't chose any longer between reason and desire now that the barber was kissing her like this even when he appeared to be about to be somewhat able to explain to her why he shared her feelings for her now.

"When time passed, I could think more clearly," he managed to say as they broke away for the shortest moment to take in some much needed air. "I began to remember you… things about you of which I didn't even know I had ever noticed them."

The kiss that followed was filled with love and affection, but it was rough as the two of them were overpowered by desire for each other, to give in to it at least now that they finally had the chance.

Sensing that he wanted to talk now, as if he couldn't explain what had happened to him during any other moment, but unable to break away from him, the baker moved to the pale skin of his neck, pulling his vest and shirt away as far as she could to gain access to the body that she had longed for almost as long as she could remember.

"I began to miss you," he said, even as he sighed with pleasure as her tongue and lips explored the skin near his throat and neck, much like he had kissed her earlier that day, her touches lacking only some of the possessive aggression that he had displayed earlier. "I realized what a fool I had been, not to notice what was right in front of me… to treat you the way I had, even though I was still longing for a woman who was no longer there any more."

Although she had no way to confirm to herself that he was actually talking the truth, Mrs. Lovett was elated. It was almost as if she was actually dreaming; words like this were the ones that she had been so eager to hear from him for a very long time indeed.

She would love to hear more about this, to understand how it had happened exactly that Sweeney had developed such feelings for her. Thinking however was once more becoming difficult as the barber kissed her again, his mouth exploring hers in a way of which she had been rather sure that he would never do so.

Mrs. Lovett herself wasn't so fond of thinking herself at the moment, preferring to lose herself in another kiss even as a part of her was even more curious now to the things that had happened to the barber when she was gone, things that must've influenced him in such a way that he had become the man who was kissing her now with such passion.

A fire begun to burn inside of her once again, reminding her of the blind need she had felt when Mr. Todd had kissed her in the alley earlier that day. The way he caused those feelings deep within her was slightly terrifying, as the need that he caused overpowered all her other emotions, until it felt as if it was almost burning her.

Stopping however was the last thing that she wanted to do when the need for each other overtook both of them again. Their kisses deepened but became at the same time less focused as both of them were trying to find some sort of completion at last.

Mr. Todd's lips and tongue ravished her own and his hands slid up and down her body, making her weak with want in a way she hadn't even thought that he was capable of. She could only vaguely realize that they were much more comfortable now than they had been shortly before, when they had struggled for release right next to their former home, and although Teddy and Victoria weren't far away, the uneven and off-key sounds of the piano that could still be heard told her that she didn't have to be afraid to be caught by the two children once again.

"We can talk later," Sweeney said as she broke away from his mouth for a moment to kiss his neck, recalling how much he had seemed to like that earlier. "Agreed?"

"Agreed," Mrs. Lovett managed to say, the second half of the confirmation lost in a moan when the barber suddenly moved his mouth to her shoulders, his teeth grazing her skin and his hands moving down her body. It was all the confirmation that the barber needed.

Their position was a rather awkward one and they both realized it simultaneously. He pulled her towards him, the distance between them having become too big as she was still sitting with her legs swung over his. Two pair of hands reached for her skirts, pulling them up without any care for the old and quite vulnerable material.

As soon as she was able to do so, Mrs. Lovett straddled the barber, both of them groaning as their bodies were pressed together again. Sweeney leaned back in her old chair and she simply leaned against him, their bodies molding together so much easier and comfortably than before. None of them however were thinking about their failed attempts earlier that day, their beings focused on nothing but each other in the current moment.

She wasn't sure whether she actually had the courage to do so now, but as Mr. Todd reached for the strings that held her dress against her body, the baker found herself grasping the barber's belt. Her hands were shaking as she attempted to undo it, Sweeney not making it any easier for her as he was basically attempting to tear the dress off her body, hands tormenting every inch of flushed skin that he touched when doing so.

The baker tried not to think of which part of him she was trying to expose, actually doing so being so difficult already. When Mr. Todd somehow succeeded in untying some of the laces on the back of her dress, pulling the now lose fabric down her body, she forced herself to move away from him for a moment. If she didn't do so now she would probably never have the chance and this way it would also be easier to get completely rid of her dress. Her corset would be the next barrier but that was something that she didn't want to consider at that moment.

She managed to move to the edge of the chair, moving away from Sweeney while doing so, thus finally having enough space between them to unbuckle his belt at last. Their eyes met when she reached for him again. The fire that was burning inside of her was visible in his gaze as well and the baker's hands almost dropped at her side, the sight of this look in his eyes so beautiful but still unexpected that it caught her off guard.

After a moment of silent determination, both of them reached forward to undo his belt. Their hands brushed as they did so, the fire within him spreading to the areas where their fingers were touching accidentally.

They both looked up as this happened, meeting each other's gaze again. The look in his eyes was unlike anything she had ever seen. He looked at her in a way that no one else had ever done, his desire for her obvious, but in a way that suggested that it was not just her body that he wanted. To see that look in his eyes was almost a miracle itself. It was almost tempting just to sit back and watch him looking at her that way. She was rather sure that there would come a moment that she would actually do so if she had the chance, but now there were more pressing matters to tend to.

"Let me do it," he said, doubtlessly sensing that they wouldn't accomplish anything in the chaos that they were currently creating as their need for each other consumed them.

The baker nodded. She had longed for a moment like this one for a very long time and she wanted to be the one to cross this final border between them, to make an end to the last obstacle that prevented them from becoming one at last. But she was also vaguely aware that they wouldn't get anywhere if they kept going on like this.

She moved back further, resting her weight on his knees to give him all the space that he needed, wanting to get the belt out of their way at last. The barber however groaned when she shifted her weight and the sound wasn't one of joy or pleasure.

The baker's eyes widened in panic, wondered what had happened, what had gone wrong this time. But more than being shocked that this attempt to be claimed completely by the barber that she loved had apparently ended so unexpectedly as well, she was horrified because Mr. Todd appeared to be in serious pain.

"What's wrong?" she asked, the despair of giving herself to him at last replaced by worry for the man of whom she hardly knew anything now.

Mr. Todd however didn't answer as he shut his eyes firmly and clenched his fists. She was horrified, having no idea what to do or how to help him, to lessen the pain that was obviously consuming him now like his desire for her had done only seconds ago.

With the few parts of her mind that were still somewhat functioning after all that had happened that day, the baker realized that she should call for Mrs. Clint. The barber's housekeeper might have an idea what was wrong with him and hopefully knew how to help him.

Before she could do so however two strong hands grasped her waist and dragged her forward, until she was leaning against Sweeney's chest once more. The reason for this was however much less obvious to her now than it had been before.

Mr. Todd seemed to relax a little when she was so close to him again and although she had no idea why she appeared to be influencing him like that, she was glad that he didn't seem to be in as much pain as he had been before.

Not knowing what else to do now that his hands were simply resting on her waist, she sat as still as she could, deciding to wait until the pain was gone to the extent that he could tell her what had happened.

Sweeney's body slowly relaxed beneath her own and after an undefined amount of time had passed, he released a long sigh, resting his head against the cushion of the chair behind him.

The pain was obviously decreasing and she was very relieved because of this, but the hurt he had been experiencing was obviously being replaced by something else that bothered him.

"I'm so sorry," he said, his voice betraying that he was tormented now by frustration.

Mrs. Lovett didn't know for a moment what he was talking about – she had no idea why he was apologizing. Although she certainly hadn't done it on purpose, it was very clear to her that she was the one who had hurt the barber. It was not as if this had been the other way around.

But as the initial panic wore off, she realized what he was referring too. Before he had screamed out in pain because of something she had apparently done, it had seemed as if both of them finally were about to completely give in to their desire for each other.

"It's all right," Mrs. Lovett said quickly, in spite of her still flushed state being mostly relieved that the barber was feeling better.

She watched him for a moment, not knowing what to do. Mr. Todd however remained resting against the chair, his breath heavy.

"What happened?"

She wanted to know what she had done to accidentally cause him so much pain – not only because it had ruined another moment between them, but mostly because she felt guilty for what she had done, even though she didn't know what had caused his physical reaction.

"It's my leg," he said after a moment of silence, his voice soft and low.

Only then she remembered what she had seen earlier that day. Sweeney had been limping; there had happened something to his right leg that prevented him from walking properly. It was the same leg that she had just rested the majority of her weight on when she had sat back to give him all the space he needed to unbuckle his belt. She wasn't exactly a heavy woman – she had never been, not even in the one stage in her life that food had been plentiful – but she could only imagine how much pain she had caused the barber by sitting down on the leg with the unknown injury.

"I'm so sorry," she breathed, horror welling up inside of her again as she realized what she had done, how she had forgotten about everything but the fire that the barber and she seemed to be sharing now.

"Don't be – it's not your fault. You didn't know."

The baker didn't entirely agree with that, but she decided not to argue.

"Are you feeling better?" she asked, wanting her presumption that he was indeed recovering to be confirmed.

"I am," he said, but there was something in his voice as he said those two words that betrayed that the pain wasn't gone entirely yet at all.

Without really thinking about it, Mrs. Lovett moved forward, just in case making sure that her body wasn't touching his at all except for the two hands that cupped his cheeks, caressing him.

"I'm all right," he repeated, as if he for some reason didn't want to be touched by her like this. But Mrs. Lovett was an observational and determined woman. She could tell that he enjoyed her caresses, so she continued to stroke his face lightly. There was still a tension within him however and although she knew exactly what had caused it, she didn't know how to deal with it. She didn't exactly have much experience with situations like this.

"About what just... did not happen," she said, choosing her words carefully as if the way they just had kissed and touched, willing to take things to a much further level, would turn out to be nothing but a dream after all if she talked about it too freely, "It doesn't matter that it... didn't."

She shook her head, her own words confusing her now. She couldn't actually believe that she was the one trying to soothe the barber's disappointment caused by the fact that they had just once again failed to physically confirm their apparent love for each other in the ultimate way.

"There will be a next time, won't it?" she eventually asked.

"Yes, most certainly," he said, opening his eyes for a brief moment. "As far as I'm concerned."

He added the last part as if it was a mere afterthought, but she could easily tell that it was so much more than that. She almost sighed, thinking that the barber was perhaps just as thick as he had been in the old days after all. She had no idea how he could even think that she wouldn't be there to experience another – hopefully more successful - attempt with him.

"I'll be there," she whispered in his ear, as if the words were more true that way.

He didn't reply, but after a while she could feel that he was finally fully relaxing. She calmed down as well as became clear that the damage she had done wasn't too bad. She continued touching his cheek; he didn't seem to need her soothing any longer, but she was more than happy just to caress the face that she had dreamed of for the greater part of her life.

"Is there anything I can do to help?"

It was clear to her that he was going to say no, but before he had said that one word, he changed his mind and nodded.

"What can I do?" she asked, very glad to hear that he was willing to accept her help, something he had never really done before, let alone in such a personal matter.

"Getting off me."

The barber gasped because of what he said even before Mrs. Lovett had fully registered the meaning of his words.

"As a first step, I mean."

The barber was obviously embarrassed because of the accidental implication of his words. It was strange to hear him like this; it was unusual for her to actually hear him talk to her in the first place. He also had trouble finding the right words and although she didn't fully understand it, it was a relief to know that she wasn't the only one who was confused and overwhelmed by the situation.

Doing what he had told her, she carefully stretched her legs, letting go off his face with reluctance. His hands were on her waist, guiding her upwards in such a way that she wouldn't accidentally hurt him again.

She ended up standing on the chair that she was still sitting on, a feet planted on the comfortable material that it was made of on either side of his body. She jumped off the chair, knowing that this was by far the easiest way to prevent any further damage, and was proud at herself when she neatly ended on both her feet without making a greater fool of herself or hurting him by accident once again.

She kneeled down in front of him, awaiting his instructions as she looked up at him. She was vaguely aware that the way she was leaning down in front of him was suggestive indeed. She had secretly fantasized about moments of this, but this wasn't what she was thinking of now. She wanted to help him, the urge to ease his pain stronger than her old desire to proof to him that there were no limits of what she was willing to do anything for him.

"It's my right leg," he said, sitting up somewhat to be able to look at her properly. "The left one from your point of view."

She reached for the edge of the thick fabric that covered this leg, hands lingering on the material. When she had been very eager to undress the barber, mere moments ago, she hadn't exactly thought of this. But now that the situation had changed in this direction, she actually felt rather awkward. It seemed somewhat wrong to intrude like this on the life of the man who she loved but hardly knew – for as far as she had ever done so in the first place.

Mr. Todd just nodded however, indicating that he was all right with this – and there was something in his eyes that suggested that he was actually glad that she was the one doing it.

With all the care that she had within her, the baker rolled up the fabric that covered his leg as he gestured her to do so.

"It isn't a pleasant sight," he warned her as she was exposing his lower leg.

Mrs. Lovett didn't know what to think of that. She had seen quite some things in her life, and so had the barber. She highly doubted that any injury on the relatively healthy barber could be anywhere near as shocking as the dead and mutilated bodies that he used to drop on her basement floor. But of course, the smallest injury on Sweeney's body would be a thousand times worse than the gruesome wounds he used to inflict on his nameless victims.

She gently pushed the last inches of fabric out of her way, exposing the injury that caused him to limb. The baker gasped when her eyes fell on the scarred skin, the area right above his knee colored with red and purple even though the wound had healed – as far as that was a good way to describe it – a long time ago.

The baker couldn't help but stare, even though this wasn't exactly the polite thing to do, especially not because Sweeney seemed to be holding his breath as she watched him, as if his life was depending on the way she would react to his injury.

"That's terrible," she breathed, unable to take her eyes off the large and ugly scar. "What happened?"

"A bullet went right through it," he said, "and it got infected. The doctor said I should be happy to still have my leg."

Tears welled in the baker's eyes as she heard this. The word 'bullet' made her shiver, her mind running wild with possible reasons why someone was willing to injury the barber like that – shooting at him, intending to kill him. She had no idea how this had happened, who was responsible for this, and it was the wrong moment to ask. But the questions were added to the almost endless amount that was swarming inside of her already.

"Does it hurt?"

The question was relatively innocent but seemed abundant – it wasn't very likely that such a wound wasn't very painful even when it wasn't accidentally touched in situations like the one that they were currently in.

"It usually doesn't," he said. "Only when there's a lot of pressure on it. I even learned to walk quite well with it."

He took the bottle of cream out of one of the pockets of his vest. She understood now why he had had before and why he knew that it was useful to heal damaged skin. He opened the lid, then looked at her as if he wasn't sure what he should do next.

"I'll do it," she said, sensing the question that he didn't want to ask.

He nodded, giving her the small bottle.

"You can touch it," he said, looking away from the remains of the terrible wound even as he was talking about it.

He meant of course that she could touch it to apply the cream, but the baker had for the time being a slightly different idea. Before she had given them actual permission to do so, her fingers moved to his scarred skin, brushing against it after only the shortest moment of hesitation.

The barber's gaze landed on her hands as soon as he felt the touch, an expression of disbelief on his face.

"What..."

Before he could say any more, the baker continued the touch, caressing the rough surface beneath her fingertips. She didn't really know why she was doing it, only that she wanted to experience herself how he had changed during the years to at least some extent, at the same time wanting to make clear to him that the huge scare didn't bother her.

The barber stared at her, obviously not knowing what to think. Then he sat back in the chair, relaxing again. Although she was quite far away from his face now, she could clearly hear the sigh that her touches caused.

She was relieved to see him like this, both apparently free of pain and completely accepting her presence, even in this situation. Intuitively, she sat down on her knees in front of him, resting her head on his good leg as she continued to move her hand over his ruined skin.

One of his hand tangled in her hair, caressing her as well. The moment of comfort couldn't differ more from the heated minutes they had just spent together, but the baker was in a way glad that this had happened. This was about more than lust and affection that she couldn't be sure of just yet – she needed his acceptance and his trust at least just as much as his desire.

When he was fully relaxed, she removed herself from him for a moment, reaching for the bottle that he had just given her. She put some of the cream on her finger, massaging it into his skin just like he had done to her before.

The barber's sighs of contentment became more frequent now and although she forced herself not to forget that this was partly caused by the pleasant sensations of the cream as well, Mrs. Lovett couldn't help but feeling proud for managing to get such a reaction out of him. Her hands were touching him after all and there was no way to deny that he was enjoying it.

In spite of the things that had not happened since the barber and she had settled in the chair that she had always been so fond of, the baker couldn't help but be content herself. She still had no idea what had happened to Mr. Todd during the years that they had been separated – if anything, she was more confused now, the big scar that she was currently tending to suggesting that his story was going to be even more unexpected than she had initially thought.

When the enfolding story had developed into some sort of twisted declaration of love before it had even actually started, it had seemed as if they finally could make up for the lack of release they had been confronted with earlier that day. But even as this too turned out to be nothing but another drastically failed attempt, it had transformed into something better than that.

It was not pleasant to see the barber's old injury. Not because she couldn't stand the actual sight of it, but because she hated the idea that he had suffered even more because it was inflicted upon him. But at the same time, it had allowed her to look after him like she had always wanted to. This time, he had accepted her help as she applied to cream, even encouraging her as he rested his hand on her shoulder, caressing her exposed skin as she was taking care of his.

Although she was more than ever unsure of what the future would bring, she couldn't help but feel that it was going to be a lot better than anything that she had known for a very long time.