Chapter 14

"What do you mean?" Mrs. Lovett asked, not understanding what the barber was talking about now that he told her that they weren't 'finished' yet.

"You'll see," he simply said.

The baker was rather frustrated by the answer, by his tendency not to answer her questions immediately. But she had learned by now that he would provide her with a very satisfactory answer sooner or later, and she trusted that this situation wouldn't be an exception.

She was still straddling him, but Sweeney gestured her to move away. She did so with some regret, missing the direct physical contact between the barber and herself. When he was free to do so, the barber moved to the other side of the tub, to the part where she had been before she had thrown herself at him. The movements caused the water in the tub to move again, but it didn't get over the edge like the last time. This wasn't strange however; after their earlier activities, almost half of the content of the tub had ended up on the bathroom floor.

From where he was sitting now, the barber could reach for the mirror that she had noticed earlier. He pulled it closer to the tub, turning it around so their reflection appeared in the dark glass. Because of the steam however the image in the mirror was a very fuzzy one. Mr. Todd took his partly soaked shirt from the floor and used the part that was still dry to wipe the mirror, removing the steam so the reflections became clear again.

The baker had absolutely no idea what he was doing, but was more focused on the barber himself anyway. His back was facing her and although this wasn't anything new, the lack of clothes that covered it now certainly was. She studied this part of him as well with great attention now that she had the chance, horrified to see that there were a lot more scars on his back than on the other side of him. She wasn't detested by this, always having known that the barber had suffered a lot more in the colony than the few things she had been able to guess from the implications he had made about his stay there throughout the months.

Just like the scars that she had seen earlier didn't diminish her admiration for Sweeney's body, she wasn't bothered by the ones that she was seeing now either. She most certainly hated whoever had done this to the barber, the ones who had inflicted so much pain and permanent damage on him, but it didn't stop her from enjoying looking at him. Even as she did, she wondered what had happened to him, what had damaged his body so much. It almost looked as if he had been whipped, which was not such a strange guess, considering where he had been for fifteen years.

She decided to ask him when a more opportune moment to do so arose. For now however she couldn't let such a sight pass by without doing anything. Wanting to comfort him, even though it was for something that had happened a long time ago and had caused something that she couldn't change no matter how hard she tried, she moved to the other side of the tub as well.

Just when he dropped the shirt again, she enfolded his body with her own, wrapping her arm around his chest and resting her head against his back. The hand that wasn't around him moved to the parts of his back that her own body wasn't covering yet, caressing both the healthy skin and the angry scars that were within reach.

He sighed as she did this, sitting very still for a while. But then he removed himself from her, the way he did this gentle but firm.

"You don't always have to take care of me. No matter how much I appreciate what you do for me... but there are things even you can't heal. But more importantly, you've looked after me for such a long time already. From now on, it's going to be both ways."

She didn't reply immediately, considering those words first. Before it fully dawned on her what he was saying, he moved back to the end of the tub where he had been before, gesturing her to follow her.

"I'm going to take care of you," he whispered, guiding her to sit between his slightly spread legs and lean back against his chest. "But first, I want you to know two things."

The baker was silent, anticipating whatever it was that he was going to say.

"I want it to be absolutely clear to you that I was upset earlier with myself, not with you. You were perfect and you've got no idea how much I enjoyed with we did. I had just hoped that it would've been as good for you as it had been for me."

Mrs. Lovett nodded, making clear to him that she understood what he was saying and that she was glad to hear that he took her feelings so much into account. She would've loved to actually tell him this, but she didn't dare attempt to speak now that he had just made so very clear to her he had enjoyed himself very much and, even better, that he truly considered her to be his equal now.

"Secondly, I want you to know that the house on the left side of this one isn't occupied at the moment and that the old lady living alone in the house at the right has serious hearing problems."

Once again she didn't have a clue why he was telling her this, but she sensed that she would find out soon enough.

For the time being however nothing was happening. The barber was still sitting behind her, hands resting lightly on her upper legs. Mrs. Lovett however was more than happy just to sit there with him, their uncovered skin touching in the remaining warm water as the memories of what just had happened where fresh in her mind.

After a while he lifted his hands, lying them on her shoulder. He began to caress her, fingers brushing against her slick skin in a slow and leisurely way. She fully relaxed as he touched her like this, as if they weren't in a bathtub together and he hadn't just taken her for the first time. He made her feel as if they were once again in his bedroom and they were covered by both the darkness and their remaining clothing.

This time however there were no obstacles at all and she didn't have to worry about children who might see or hear things that they shouldn't. When the barber's hands followed the shape of her body, stroking her arms as well, she made soft noises of contentment.

Soon she found out that he was only getting started. His hands came to rest on her stomach for a moment, before they slowly but surely began to move upwards. She found herself leaning more heavily against the barber, as if she could persuade him that way not too linger exploring her belly like that, both because she didn't want him to notice how her ribs were visible in her too thin body and there were parts of her that began to become a lot more interested in the presence of his hands.

Mr. Todd continued just as slowly however, not showing a sign of hurry or repulsion that her ill-fed body might have evoked. He paid similar attention to each inch of skin that he touched, appreciating every part of her.

His hands came to a halt when they were just below the swell of her breasts, as if he didn't actually want to continue to that part of her body, which was becoming very eager for his touch now indeed.

But then he moved his hands further upwards after all, cupping a breast with each hand. The baker groaned quietly with delight as she did so. She had felt very content at first, the barber's touch more soothing than arousing, but as he began to knead her breasts experimentally, this changed abruptly.

She caught sight of herself in the mirror, although it was difficult to believe that she actually was the woman who was sitting in front of Sweeney Todd, hands exploring her in a way of which she hadn't thought he ever would. It was almost impossible to believe that the body that he was touching her so intimately was actually hers, but it was indeed her being that was aware of every single jolt of heat that his fingers caused.

Her gaze met Sweeney's just when he squeezed more powerfully than before and she groaned out loud, the last doubts banished from her mind. Obviously sensing how large the impact was that he had on her, his eyes never moving away from her reflection in the mirror, he continued to ravish her in this whole new way.

She was wriggling in his arms, trying to push herself more firmly against his hands. Aware of how much she enjoyed his touches, he continued to knead and caress, varying the pressure and rhythm of his hands to find out what she liked most. The baker herself was too overtaken by it to be even consciously aware of the touches she liked most, but Mr. Todd found out anyway.

The volume of the groans that his touches caused probably told him once again all that he needed to know. She didn't even have to try to think of the right words to express herself to let Sweeney know which touches she appreciated the most; all he had to do was listen to her.

Doing so had never exactly been a strong point of him, but it almost seemed as if he was making up for that now by being even more aware of her body than she was herself, to repeat the movements of his hands that caused the fiercest reactions until she was nothing but a quivering and squirming mass.

Mrs. Lovett was lost, losing awareness of the world that she was part of as Sweeney seemed to mold her very soul into something that was infinitely better than anything she had ever known. Even when they had experienced their moment of heat in the alley, only less than a day ago, she hadn't thought that he could make her feel like this. Not even in her wildest and darkest dreams she had been able to imagine that he could make her lose control so completely, that he could reduce her to this simply by touching her breasts the way he was currently doing.

Even when he had caressed her back and kissed her with that intensity that had even surprised her, and she had tried to imagine what it would feel like if he would focus the incredible attention and tenderness he appeared to be capable of now on the most intimate parts of her body, she wouldn't have been able to think of this.

She was hardly aware of the sounds that he elicited from her, didn't really realize that the almost inhuman grunts and moans she heard were her own. There had been days that she had had to be as careful as she could around the barber, knowing that she had to make sure that she wouldn't say anything that she for whatever reason shouldn't. Having lost almost all control over herself now, there wasn't a single barrier between her feelings and the way she expressed them. She knew now however that there was nothing to be afraid of, that she didn't have to fear the barber's reaction to the pleasure that he caused her. If anything, he would only be pleased to see just how much she enjoyed his touch.

His hands were firm and tender at the same time, but there was no way that she could consider that apparent paradox at that certain moment. She was too caught up in this new and unexpected pleasure to realize that this wasn't where this was ending, that this was in fact only the beginning. The source of all this was a part of her that he hadn't even touched yet. And even as it was throbbing in a way it had never done before, causing her to shift her legs subconsciously to do something about the ache that was rapidly building there, she could only think of the way he kept kneading her breasts, which seemed to get more sensitive with every time he touched them.

Her eyes had closed quite a while ago, even though she didn't really remember so. They burst open however when the heavenly sensations that he had caused came to an end, indicating that he had withdrawn his hands. The first thing she saw when she did so was the mirror, and the reflection of herself. Her heavily heaving chest wasn't covered by his hands any longer, causing her to gasp with disappointment and a feeling of great loss.

Her body was too delirious to actually feel it, but when she looked in the mirror, she realized after a long moment that his hands were moving away from her breasts, going downwards without apparent hurry or purpose.

When his hands moved out of her view, or at least her current one, which was provided by the mirror, it took her another moment to realize that this didn't mean that she couldn't see the progress of his hands any longer. Her thoughts slowed significantly by the pleasure that clouded it, it took her some seconds to look downwards, focusing her gaze directly on his hands instead of their image in the mirror.

But even when she was seeing with her own two eyes that the barber's hands were resting on her thighs, it was hard to believe that this was actually real. There was no time to think about it however, not even if thinking had still been possible now that his fingers moved upwards, to the part of her that was throbbing for those hands that could drive her almost wild with desire.

There was no space to realize how ironic it was that those were the hands that had killed so many men, that had touched another woman for so long, the very hands that had almost ended her life ten years ago. But even if there was, it would've been forgotten when the barber's hands slid upwards, caressing the pale skin that was so flawless compared to his own.

The baker's hands moved to the edge of the tub, needing something to hold on to now that the temperature kept increasing and the world was spinning out of control around her. The rest of her body was pressed firmly against the barber's, as she pushed herself against him even though he was holding on to her as tightly as he could himself as well.

Her entire being was screaming for him to touch him there where she needed him most, to stop lingering on the soft skin of her thighs, caressing it with gentleness she didn't want at that moment. No matter how pleasant the touch would be in any other situation, no matter how much she had dreamed of caresses like those to begin with, there was only one thing that she wanted at that moment. Her mouth however could produce no sound, her body completely consumed by the blind need that was coursing through her, more powerful than anything else that she had ever experienced.

Sweeney was probably very much aware of how much she wanted him to touch her, but his fingers just continued their slow pace, stroking each inch of skin as if every part was the same to him.

Her legs spread on their own accord, giving him better access to that part of her that was most desperate to be touched now, hoping to persuade him this way to actually do so. He tensed behind her when she did so, his hands holding still for a moment as if he was actually surprised by what she had done, by the way she was so clearly showing him what she needed.

If it hadn't been for the situation, Mrs. Lovett would've realized that she was probably the complete opposite of Lucy, the woman who he had devoted the greater part of his life to. Even now, she actually was tempted just to grasp the barber's unmoving hand and move it to where she wanted it to be, not reluctant to make very clear to him just how much she needed him. He probably wasn't used at all to be with a woman who knew what she wanted and wasn't afraid to make him very much aware of this.

The baker couldn't hold back however, not even if she would've known whether Sweeney was actually shocked by the way she reacted to his touch. The want that was overpowering her was unlike anything she had ever known, stronger than anything she had ever experienced. She might've wondered how it was possible that he could do this to her with just his hands, that hadn't even reached for the spot that was the source of her desire.

If she wouldn't have been too far gone to notice, she would've been aware of the way he tightened his grasp around her as he recovered from the initial shock that her actions had caused, actually enjoying the way she reacted to him, savoring the way she offered herself to him completely, making so clear that she wanted his touch – that she needed him.

All that mattered to her in that heated moment however, all that she was aware of, was that his hands continued their movement. As if realizing now how much his slow pace had tormented her, he slid one of his hands upwards at last. Even as she saw this however, wide eyes taking in the fingers that disappeared between her legs, she couldn't fully believe that he was really doing this.

Only when his fingers began moving carefully, exploring her in a way he had never done before, it was somewhat clear to her that this was really happening to her. Thinking however become impossible as soon as the nimble digits began to touch her in a way no one had ever done.

Intuitively, she looked up in the mirror again. Ignoring the look of pleasure and incomprehension on her own face, she focused on the barber's. There was an expression of intense concentration on his face, combined with something that could only be described as delight. It was something she had seen on his face whenever he talked about his vengeance, but it was so different at the same time. The focus had nothing to do with planning or death; it was all about her, as he wanted to touch her as skillfully as he could. He was completely absorbed by what he was doing now, with her, and even to her it was obvious in the heat of the moment that he liked to do this, that he enjoyed to see her like this. Although there were some strange similarities, this couldn't compare to anything that either of them had experienced before, and the baker was more than happy with that.

At that moment however he touched something inside of her that made her scream out loud, her entire body shaking as he sent a physical blow of pleasure through her being. The baker threw her head back, tears welling in her eyes as delight unlike anything she had ever known consumed her. She had been sure that he couldn't make her feel any better than he had done a few minutes ago, but the sensations that were burning within her now made the fire that he had stoked within her earlier pale in comparison.

She closed her eyes, having no choice but to focus fully on the things he was doing to her. When he repeated the motion, at least a part of her had been expecting it. But even though she knew what was coming, there was no way for her to prepare for the pleasure that he caused, using nothing but his fingers.

The baker cried out again, feeling as if an actual wave of physical delight was washing over her. Her head still tilted backwards, resting on the barber's shoulder, but she couldn't keep her body in an upwards position any longer, her muscles flexing now on the barber's command only.

Becoming aware of this, the hand that had been resting on her thigh, still caressing it lightly, came around her waist, supporting her body now that she couldn't do herself any longer. The baker only noticed for the shortest moment of time; even as he moved to make sure that her body didn't slid out of his reach, the other hand continued its movements.

The baker's own hands still held on to the edges of the tub, doing this with such a despair that her knuckles turned white, even though the blood was streaming quicker through her body than it had ever done before, her heavily beating heart rushing it forward.

The tub that she was holding on to had been like an anchor to her before, but now it seemed as if everything was moving around her, that even the tub wasn't standing still any longer. She kept her eyes shut tightly, sensing that the world around her would become even stranger and more nonexistent if she actually looked at it. And as another wave of pleasure went through her, a far and overtaken part of her was remind that she wouldn't have been able to open her eyes anyway, even if she would've wanted to.

Time passed in the world that she didn't seem to be part of any longer, but the barber didn't cease the intimate caresses, continuing to touch her with the same slow and gentle gestures. It didn't seem possible, but the fire within her kept growing with every second that passed, with every time that his fingers pressed against that spot inside of her.

The waves that had washed over her and continued to do so, seemed to be taking her down, drowning her in a sea of pleasure. As there didn't come to see an end to the increasing intensity of his touches, there was a hint of panic that began to mix with the extreme delight she was feeling. She had no idea where this was going to end - whether there was an end at all – and with each second that past, she felt as if it was harder to breathe, more difficult not to get lost in her own body.

"I'm here," he whispered in her ear, his voice quiet but hoarse. She had no idea how it was possible, but he had sensed her distress almost as soon as she had done so herself. "I'm holding you."

The barber's voice soothed her, as if it helped her through the surface of the growing waves that kept rushing over her. Her painful grip on the edges of the tub lessened slightly, but not for long.

The speed of the movement's of his hands increased slightly, as if he was only then becoming aware of how much his touches influenced her exactly and that she needed more of it. The fire within her grew to an almost unbearable level and although she was screaming and groaning until her throat was sore, she could hear nothing but the frantic pounding of her heart and felt nothing but the ever spreading pleasure that was overtaking her.

And finally, when her body felt as if it couldn't take any more of the exquisite torture, he sent her over the edge at last. The scream that had welled up inside of her was stuck in her throat when one more wave of pleasure washed over her, more powerful than all the previous ones combined, sweeping over her to the very core of her being.

Her eyes rolled back in her head and her entire body shook heavily, just like Sweeney's had done before, as it tried to find a way to deal with the previously unknown sensations. It seemed to her as if she was falling and falling, faster and faster. She had no idea where she would end up, where the stream that her body was lost in would take her. But it didn't matter anymore; she didn't care what would happen, just as long as her being was consumed by the incredible feelings that Sweeney had caused.

When she became slightly aware of her surroundings and regained some of the control of her body, she found herself lying against the barber. She would've slid beneath the water's surface if it hadn't been for his arms, that were holding on to her more tightly than ever before.

He was breathing almost just as heavily as she was, but she wasn't aware of it. All she could do was lie in the water that wasn't hot at all compared to the current temperature of her body, while aftershocks made her tremble and shake as her mind still drifted somewhere far, far away.

After an undefined amount of time had passed, the aftermath of the breathtaking pleasure that the barber just had caused had worn off to the extent that she could sit up properly and turn around to face him.

There were a lot of things that she wanted to say to him, and at least she wanted to thank him for what he just had done for her. But her mind was still clouded, making it difficult to think, and the look in his eyes made it simply impossible for her to talk at that moment. For once, there was an expression of total openness on his face, his features betraying his thoughts and emotions instead of shielding them from her.

And as she looked into those eyes that hid none of his longing for her, there was nothing that stopped her from showing the emotions that assaulted her when she realized how unlikely it was that they were here now, together in a bathtub in the beautiful house where they had finally given in to their desire for each other completely.

She strongly felt that the moment should be one of joy, but she couldn't help but be harshly reminded of the long and terrible years – decades – that had let up to this moment. She hated herself for it, but she couldn't blink the tears away that welled in her eyes when the suppressed memories caught up with her in this moment of vulnerability.

"Nellie," he said quietly, seeing her struggle. "Don't. Just don't."

"I know," she replied, trying to hold back the tears that became only more insistent when she did so. "I shouldn't be crying now. I don't want to, but..."

"That's not what I meant."

She didn't understand what he was talking about, until he moved closer to her, guiding her head to rest on his shoulder at the same time.

"You don't have to hide your feelings from me any longer. Ever."

Understanding now that he didn't mind that she reacted to the wonderfulness that he had just caused her to experience by weeping, she didn't try to hold her tears back any longer. Although she felt slightly awkward at first when she let go completely in his arms once more, the feeling of discomfort disappeared soon. More than anything, she was just relieved that he understood her now and wasn't bothered by the way she couldn't keep her emotions under control.

Even now he was caressing her, hands soothing her when realities that she had tried to ignore for a long time came crashing down on her. Even when she cried, for the first time since many years allowing someone else to see her tears, the sadness that she had kept hidden for years and had denied even towards herself violently making its way outside of her at last, she wasn't overwhelmed by her grief.

As long as Sweeney Todd was with her, supporting her when she didn't have any strength or will left, just like she had always been there for him in his darkest moments, she felt like she could handle anything – that no one else mattered any longer, as long as he was there with her.

But even when she wasn't thinking of the awful circumstances that she had lived in for so long, stopped to remind herself what a miracle it was that both of them were still alive and that they had found each other in the first place, she couldn't help but realize how much time they had lost; whether it was wasted or not, whether they had needed that time or not, the prime of their lives lay almost beyond them, the amount of years that they could spend together even if he was willing to being small compared to the ages that they hadn't known that they would actually find each other one day.

But as he continued to hold her, the hands that had led her to such incredible pleasure only minutes ago just gently stroking her back now, she calmed down. The past wasn't important any more. It had happened, had made sure that they were exactly where they were now. From now on, events from the past didn't matter any longer. Neither was the future of much importance. She had spent too much time worrying about the day of tomorrow. She had come at a part in her life where only the present day mattered. For the first time in her life, the present was also something that was worth being enjoyed and savored.

There were so many things that she wished to tell him, but when she moved slightly away from him at last and looked up to meet his gaze, she knew that there was no need. The expression on his face was completely unguarded, allowing her to read his thoughts right off his face. From the way he was looking at her in return, she could tell that for him was going the same thing. It was not as if her face hadn't always been as open as it was now; it was not as if she could hide her thoughts and feelings even if she wanted to. But in the past he had never been willing to actually look at her, was never interested in the things she thought or felt.

This was changed completely now of course and no matter how much she liked to talk with him, to hear how his voice expressed his views and opinions, it was something of a relief now to communicate to him without having to find the right words to make herself clear to him.

This way, it was so much easier to thank him for what he just had done, for what he had given her. So much easier to make clear to him that it had felt better than she could've imagined, but that she had panicked for a moment because he was the one and only to show her that such pleasure existed. Only this way she felt that she could tell him how utterly happy she was to be there with him, the gratitude for having found him in relative good health and with such changed feelings regarding her.

And while those thoughts run through her mind and he experienced them simultaneously, she could read in his eyes that he shared those feelings, that he was extremely grateful to have her back after he thought that she had been lost for him forever. Just like she could see by just looking at him that he had enjoyed pleasuring her, to watch her when offered her what he had been unable to offer earlier.

Even though the world was slowly returning to the way she remembered it – or at least, to some extent – time still seemed to stand still when the barber and she were looking straight into each other's eyes, communicating things that would never be said aloud. Because of this she had no idea how much time had passed when he eventually reached for her again and pulled her against him, letting her rest against his chest.

She gladly moved back against him, giving her body and mind the chance to recover from the extreme mental and physical exertion of the moment that had just passed. Even now he was gently touching her back, both soothing her and enjoying himself by doing so.

Her head was resting above his heart and she was surprised to find it pounding almost just as fast as hers still was. She had felt earlier that he had appreciated the chance to let her experience what she had offered him before for herself, but it was nice to feel the physical presence of it thumping right beneath her ear.

When both of them had calmed down, he reached for a small and low table that was standing behind the tub and which she hadn't seen before. There were various blocks of soap and similarly looking objects. He took one of them, a piece that was unused but managed to look as if it had been lying there for quite some time.

The soap looked familiar to her but she only recognized it when Sweeney began rubbing it between his wet hands and she breathed in its scent.

"That's my soap," she muttered, bewildered. "I used to use that."

She probably should know better by now, but it kept mesmerizing her how much of her old life was coming back to her because it had somehow become part of Sweeney's.

"I know. That's why I wanted it. When I went to Fleet Street one day, I walked past the market to get there. It wasn't safe, but always taking the same route to our house wasn't either. When I was walking, there was a smell in the air that made me think for a short while that you were actually there was well. It took me a while to realize that I had happened to find the stand where you used to buy your soap. Buying a piece was an unnecessary risk but it was something that I just had to."

Even though she had been far away from him at that time, the baker could easily imagine him standing in front of one of her favorite stands of St. Dunstan's Market, buying the soap that she had always been fond of.

"I use it to wash your nightgown, just so it keeps smelling a little bit like you," he added. "I had just never thought that I would use it to wash you."

The soap was mixing with the still warm water and the baker looked with delight at the bubbles that were appearing, just like she had always imagined that they would in such a large tub.

The last words that the a barber just said to her where however a lot more interesting than the bubbles. It amazed her that he managed to make their time together better just when she thought that he possibly couldn't do so even more once again.

"Let me begin with washing your hair," he said, guiding her body more forward so she could lean her head back to the extent that the already damp tresses became completely soaked.

Once her hair was wet enough, he helped her sit up again and he moved to sit right behind her. His hands were fully covered with liquid soap now and he worked them into her hair, not stopping until every inch of the long curls was surrounded by small bubbles.

The baker heaved a deep sigh of contentment as she surrounded by warmth and the smell of her favorite soap that was applied by the man who she loved.

She could sit forever like that, body more relaxed than it had ever been before and eyes closed when Sweeney was washing her hair as if it was only normal that he did such things. The moment would end sooner or later but this time, she didn't mind at all – whatever it was that was going to follow, it would be as good as this.

She tilted the back of her head back into the water when he asked her to do so. His hands ran through her curls until they were completely clean, then guided her in a sitting position once again.

He didn't stop there. As soon as she was sitting against him again, he took a washcloth from the small table next to the bath and began to wash her, moving the soapy fabric against her skin with firm but pleasant strokes.

Mr. Todd didn't forget a single part of her body, washing every bit of her with similar care, although his movements were even slower when he washed the skin that he had bruised and bitten the day before in his hasty and rather desperate attempt to claim her. The care with which he carefully cleaned the wounded skin now was the complete opposite of his earlier anger and lust.

He washed every inch of her, only hesitating slightly when he reached for the parts of her that she usually longed to be touched by him in quite different circumstances. But she was sated now – for the time being at least – and in that moment there was nothing that she wanted more than the tenderness he was showing now. So she just shivered pleasantly when he washed her breasts and thighs, the movements not leaving her wanting more.

When this was done, he reached for the items standing on the small table again. A moment later he was holding a small brush in his hand. She didn't know what this was for until he took one of her hands in his own and began to remove the dirt from beneath her finger nails.

The baker was embarrassed at first, horrified that Sweeney had both noticed the dark edges of her fingers and was now actually cleaning them, as if she were a child. The barber didn't give a single indication however that he was bothered by this; if anything, he seemed to be glad to have an excuse to continue cleaning her.

Trusting him now more than anyone or anything, she just let him. Most of the soap was gone now, disappearing as it mixed with the dirt that came off her body, but it was a relief now instead of a burden. And as he reached for her other hand, she actually enjoyed the care with which he performed the process, the delight that he seemed to find in washing her warming her just like the water she was sitting in.

It felt as if it wasn't just the dirt he was washing away from her. It almost seemed to her as if he was trying to clean the past away from her, to free her from the memories of dark and lonely days, that went on and on without apparent end and the slightest hint of friendship, let alone love. It was as if he tried to erase the past that they had spent apart from each other, even when they had lived in the same house. As if he wanted to undo the despair that had dominated her life for so long.

When he had finished washing her and put back the brush that he had used to clean her fingernails, she felt cleaner than she had ever been in her life – and she probably was. Both of them let out a long sigh, the simultaneous sound reminding her once again how similar they appeared to be now.

"The water is getting cold," he said after an undefined amount of time had passed.

The baker hadn't been aware of it until he mentioned it, still too overwhelmed by what just had happened and at the same time too content just to sit there.

She blinked, the moment of delightful nothingness she had just been part of coming to an end now that he had spoken to her. She fully returned to the actual world around her, that included so much more than just Sweeney Todd. She realized he was right; in fact, she was shivering lightly with cold.

"Let's get out of the bath," he said.

Although she could've sit there for a much longer time, savoring the things that had just happened and the continuing presence of the man who had been responsible for them, she agreed with him. It was becoming uncomfortable in the bath and besides, she was absolutely sure now that Sweeney Todd would go with her whatever was going to happen when they would leave the bathroom.

She managed to break away from him, in spite of the knowledge that the separation wouldn't be for long disappointed not to be so close to him any longer. He stood up when there was some distance between them, climbing out of the tub. In spite of herself and the cold water and air that were the only things that were surrounding her now, the baker couldn't help but look at him when he walked towards the small cupboard in a corner of the bathroom, not missing even the smallest of details when he took several large towels from it.

When he turned around and walked back to her, he found her looking at him. The baker looked away quickly, sensing that he wouldn't appreciate it if she would continue to stare at him like that. It was not that she could help him; even if she would've had plenty of chances like this before – which she hadn't, obviously – she would probably never get tired of looking at the beautiful body of the man who she loved now even more than she had always done.

He wasn't upset at all however when he saw that she was scrutinizing him; if anything, he seemed to like it that she looked at him like that, as if it was honor that her eyes explored his body like this once more.

The barber stood still in front of the tub and offered her his hand. She took it and he helped her get out of the bath, so she too ended up standing on the soaked tiles of the bathroom. It wasn't much warmer there, the water on the floor having gone cold a long time ago as well, and Mrs. Lovett shivered only more now that she was out of the bath.

The look in Sweeney's eyes betrayed that he had been rather willing to look at her unclothed form for quite some time, but he wrapped one of the large towels around her shoulder, shielding her from the cold air around them.

Grateful for the nicely soft and warm material, Mrs. Lovett enjoyed the way it surrounded almost her entire body, unable to prevent herself from noticing that she had never had such pleasant towels. It was not that she had ever needed them and it was strange indeed to find out that the former demon barber happened to own such large and nicely white towels, but she was glad that he had them and allowed her to enjoy them now.

She watched how Sweeney wrapped a towel around his own body as well, shielding the pale skin from her view. She was disappointed by this for a moment, but she realized almost simultaneously that it probably wouldn't take long before she could continue getting to know his body, that there would come a moment soon in which they would soon be overtaken by desire for each other once more. Just the way he was still looking at her betrayed that it probably wouldn't take long indeed.

When she was sure that the towel was firmly wrapped around her body – it was not that she would mind Sweeney looking at her, but that she didn't want to catch a cold – she stepped closer to the barber. He was trying to dry his hair with one of the smaller towels that he had taken out of the cabinet. No matter how wonderful it was to see him do this – if only because it was so unique that he allowed her to see it in the first place – it wasn't enough for her.

"Let me do it," she said, wanting to keep touching him even now that their lust was slaked for the time being.

He looked at her for a moment, as if judging her words. His gaze betrayed that he didn't mind at all that she offered him her help, something that he had always refused in the past. Now he seemed to be nothing but delighted that she wanted to stay close to him even now.

Mr. Todd gave her the towel, but as she reached for him to continue what he had been doing, she found out that doing so wasn't as easy as she had thought. In the past she hadn't been close to him often enough to really notice it, and in the recent moments that they had shared they had usually been too caught up in the moment to realize that he was quite a bit taller than she was. No matter how much she wanted to do so, she couldn't dry his hair for him, simply because she wasn't tall enough.

Realizing their problem, he took her hand in his own and guided her to a corner of the bathroom that wasn't flooded yet. Looking straight at her, he moved down to his knees, resting them on the dry but equally cold tiles that covered the floor. She gasped when she realized what he was doing, that he surrendered himself to her in this unexpected but delightful way.

She stepped closer to him, until their bodies were almost touching once again, and began to dry the dark tresses that were at the perfect height now. While she did so, he rested his face against her towel covered stomach, wrapping his arms around her waist in a way that suggested that he never wanted to let go off her again. He wasn't bothered by the water that dropped out of her own soaking locks and didn't mind at all whenever the long and wet curls brushed against his face. He actually seemed to like it when this happened, as if he appreciated everything that only remotely reminded him that she was truly there, being with him in the way she had always wanted to.

When his hair was dry enough to the baker's satisfaction, when she was convinced that he wouldn't catch a cold himself when they'd leave the still relatively warm bathroom, she dropped the towel. Her work wasn't finished yet – or at least, not as far as she was concerned.

Gesturing him to stand up again, she took hold of the edges of the larger towel that was wrapped around him. As he nodded at her to give the permission she was looking for, she gently pulled at the material, baring the barber's body to her once more. Although her eyes took in as much of him as she could, she mostly focused on her actual task, which was drying his body as well.

The towel had absorbed most of the water that had covered him when he had stepped out of the tub. In fact, he was mostly dry already. But both the barber and the baker were rather fond of the idea that had made its way into Mrs. Lovett's mind.

He extended his right arm to her, almost as if to make clear to her that he didn't object at all to what she wanted to do. Understanding that he was all right with what she wanted to do, she took his arm in her hand and moved the fluffy material of the towel over the skin that he had offered her, drying his arm for as far as it wasn't so already.

When the right arm was entirely dry, they continued with the left one. This arm too was quickly freed from the last drops of water and before she knew it, she was moving the towel over his back and chest, and even the lower half of his body. She had to kneel down in order to reach for his legs properly, but she was more than happy to lower herself in front of him like that. The only thing about it that she found difficult, was preventing herself from staring too much at that part of him that she had longed to see above anything else.

The first time that it had been inside of her hadn't ended the way she had secretly dreamed of, but the barber had just proven that their intimate moments didn't necessarily had to be as frenzied and rushed as she had initially thought. Even as she was drying his body with great care, only minutes after getting out of the tub where he had taken her for the very first time, she couldn't help but wonder what it would be like if that part of him would move as slowly and carefully inside of her as his fingers just had done.

She was tempted just to reach out for him and touch him, to see him grow larger in her hand. She decided against it however, even though the temptation was difficult to resist. But the baker didn't want to push her luck, didn't want to go too far now that she was almost certain that things between the barber and herself would progress wonderfully if only she gave it enough time.

So she gestured him to turn around, drying the back of his legs and forcing herself to focus on the color and structure of his skin, and the feeling of the muscles that lay beneath it, now that she had the chance. This was fascinating in its own right, just like she had thought and hoped, and distracted her enough to prevent herself from doing something embarrassing.

Even when he was fully dried and she stood up again, he didn't take the towel that she offered him. Instead, he reached for the towel that was covering her, gently tugging the fabric away from her when she too had nodded her permission, just like he had made clear to her earlier that he didn't mind her doing so.

The roles were reversed now and although the idea that he was helping her like his was even more unlikely than the fact that he had just allowed her to look after him like she had always wanted to, she enjoyed it very much anyway.

After he had wrapped a smaller towel in her hair for the time being, Sweeney dried her skin with at least just as much care as she had dried his earlier. When her arms were done, he too sank down on his knees in front of her, drying the front of her body. He too was unable to keep his gaze away from certain parts of her, but the baker hardly had the chance to appreciate it. Even when he was moving the towel over the surface of her back, he pressed his face against her stomach, lightly kissing the skin he had just dried already.

Taken aback by this new display of tenderness, the baker didn't realize that he was done drying her body until he cleared his throat. But even then she didn't feel like moving and preferred to just remain standing where she was, not bothered by the cold as much anymore now that her skin wasn't wet any longer.

Mr. Todd seemed to share this feeling. He too remained standing still in front of her, eyes taking in her now dry but still unclothed form as he had wanted to do before. Mrs. Lovett herself took her change to continue watching him, admiring him with wide and eager eyes.

His hand reached for hers and their hands locked somewhere in between them even as they were still watching each other. Although the barber's dark eyes were roaming over her, the baker didn't feel uncomfortable. It was not that she was really aware of his gaze now that she was looking at him with similar intensity, but she was also absolutely sure by now that he was rather fond of her body and his opinion mattered more than her own when it came to such things.

Just watching wasn't enough however after a while. It was not that she wanted to touch him now like he had caressed her so recently – she did, but not at the current moment. For the time being she just wanted to hold him and being held by him, to remind her once again that this wasn't a dream or illusion. But most of all she knew now how wonderful it was to be so close to him, even when they weren't pursuing the pleasure of which she knew now that they could share.

She pulled lightly at his hand. He looked at her for a moment, a questioning gaze in his eyes, but he seemed to understand her before she had the chance to explain herself. They both took a small step towards each other and when their bodies were almost touching once more, she carefully wrapped her arms around his waist, resting her head against his chest.

He returned the embrace, his arms too going around her waist, resting his hand just below the small of her back as he eased his head against hers. Their bodies fit together perfectly, even when they were just standing like this. There had been times that she had felt that truly being with the barber like this couldn't be worth the ages that she had spent alone, longing for him with despair. But now that they were holding each other like that, remembering the short time they had spent together so far and thinking a little of the days that were to come, she knew that she would do it all again. No matter how horrible parts of the previous decades had been, it had been worth it.

"Let's go back to bed," he said after a few quiet and peaceful minutes, shivering lightly himself now because of the growing coldness in the bathroom, the last water in the tub having cooled down too much in order to still provide any warmth.

The foresight was a very tempting one and the baker nodded her consent. Not wanting to bother getting into the clothes she had just selected – she had the sneaky suspicion that they would be abundant again rather soon anyway – she decided just to wrap the towel around her body. It would provide enough warmth and protection until they reached the barber's bedroom.

Mr. Todd himself didn't have any dry clothes with him after he had dropped the clothing that he had been wearing on the now wet floor, and he simply wrapped his towel around his waist as well.

Before they left, he pulled the towel that was still covering her curls away. Her hair was clean and relatively dry now, but it was a bigger mess than it had been before. Sweeney only shrugged however, as if he couldn't care less that the curls looked like if something had exploded right next to them. But in a way, there had just been a rather powerful moment indeed, and it seemed to her that the barber wanted to be reminded of that like this as well.

Sweeney opened the door to the hallway that lay beyond it, leaving the messy bathroom behind. The baker wanted to follow him, but only then realized that she could hardly walk because of the large towel that she had put rather tightly around herself, leaving only her feet, head and shoulders bare.

Noticing almost immediately that she didn't follow him, he turned around on the threshold. That amused expression appeared on his face once more as he saw what she had gotten herself into this time. She was too focused on that wonderful look on his face to really notice that he was approaching her.

Only when one of his arms went beneath her knees and the other held on to her shoulders, she realized what he was doing. Before she knew it, he had simply lifted her up, holding her tightly in his arms as he made his way out of the bathroom, making sure not to smash her accidentally against the frame of the door.

She let out a delighted shriek when he carried her upstairs, back to his bedroom, feeling as if her life was beginning only now.


I'm sorry that it took me so long to continue this story. Real life has been very demanding during the past few months, but luckily things are really slowing down now. After completing my thesis (and thus earning my Bachelor of Science degree!) a few days ago, I'm now going on a much needed vacation. When I'm back, I'll try to write and post the remaining ten chapters of this story within a few weeks.