Puppy Love
Summary: "That's the last time you let Toby bring an animal into this place."
A/N: Well, I felt in a silly mood writing this, so they're acting a bit childish and probably somewhat OOC. Which is half the reason I chose puppy love as a title. As for the other half… well, you'll see. Oh, and I've started reading The String Of Pearls and practically laughed my head off at the description of Sweeney. Hehe, Indian warrior indeed.
Mrs Lovett hummed to herself as she went about cleaning up the shop ready for the following day. The dinner plates were soaking in the sink, the pies were prepared ready for baking in the morning, and she was all but done cleaning the various surfaces. As she went to wipe down the table, a strong arm looped around her waist and firmly pulled her onto the bench, whereupon she was effectively held captive.
"Mr T!" The baker rolled her eyes, swatting at the barber playfully. "I 'ave work to do."
"You're almost done, pet." He murmured into her ear, his breath tickling her. "And you know dam well how much I love it when you… drop in."
"Oh yeah, I 'ad a right lot o' choice in the matter."
Even so, Nellie flung the cloth onto the table and shuffled round to kiss her barber, giving a small moan when he bit down on her lip and moved his skilled hands up and down her sides.
Mr Todd was just moving his hands to unfasten her gown when the sound of footsteps coming towards the shop reached their ears. They separated reluctantly. It was probably a good thing they'd been interrupted, seeing as they were in front of a window with the net curtains wide open for all the world to see inside. But right then they didn't see it that way.
"That bloody boy…" Sweeney grumbled. Nellie patted his cheek affectionately.
"Now, now, love, don't get yourself in a tizzy."
Sweeney grumbled something unintelligible, as the door was flung open and Toby appeared, grinning happily and clutching a small mongrel dog in his arms. It seemed to have been originally brown, but there were so many other colours mixed in with the fur from God-knows how many places or things that it was impossible to be certain.
"What on Earth…?" Nellie stood up as gracefully as possible and set her hands on her hips. "Toby-"
The young boy cut her off.
"Mum, I found 'im by the workhouse, an' look Mum, 'e's so thin, an' I always wanted a dog, I 'ave. So… so could we maybe keep 'im, Mum? Please?"
"Oh, well." Nellie floundered, glancing at Sweeney for support either way, and he simply shrugged. Looking back at Toby she sagged in the wake of his pleading expression. Even the damn dog seemed to be pouting at her, wagging its little misshapen tail. Sighing, she rubbed her temples.
"Oh, all right, you can keep 'im." Nellie conceded with a sigh, and was almost knocked over a moment later by the hug Toby gave her.
"Thank you, Mum! 'E won't be no trouble, 'onest."
"Yeah, yeah, I'm a soft touch." The baker smiled, ruffling Toby's hair.
When Toby released his adoptive mother, the dog in his arms wiggled free and jumped onto the table, standing in front of Sweeney, and giving a couple of short yaps, before sitting down and fixing the barber with a questioning look.
"What?" Sweeney asked irritably, and Nellie bit her lip to prevent a chuckle escaping at his sulking posture.
The dog waggled its back end playfully before bounding onto Sweeney in one leap and licking his cheek enthusiastically, before jumping to the floor and returning to Toby's side.
A moment passed in silence.
At the end of the second Toby was shaking slightly with the effort of not laughing at what had just happened and Sweeney's outraged and disgusted expression.
Byt the third neither Toby nor Nellie could hold their laughter back, and Toby scooped the dog up and ran back outside before Sweeney could do anything to him. Nellie had to lean on the counter she was laughing so hard, wiping tears from her eyes. Sweeney wiped his face with his sleeve, his face set darkly.
"It wasn't that funny." He grunted, and then sighed. "That's the last time you let Toby bring an animal into this place. I hate dogs."
"It was too." Nellie argued through her laughter, trying to stop. "'Sides, you don't 'ate dogs. What 'bout 'Arry?"
"Harry." Sweeney declared. "Was a thoroughbred greyhound. He certainly didn't just lick peoples' faces!"
"'E did too." Nellie shook her head, her laughs now dying down to giggles. "'E bloomin' pinned me down when 'e firs' saw me."
"Well, love, you're special."
"That's what you call it then?"
"Indeed I do."
Nellie shook her head again, and resumed what she had been doing before – namely, cleaning the various counters in the shop. Unfortunately, she realised she'd left her cloth on the table. And of course, if she went over there, judging by the glint in Sweeney's eyes, she wouldn't be resuming her cleaning any time soon. The barber seemed to realise her predicament, and held the cloth up innocently.
"Need something, my pet?" He asked. Nellie weighed up her chances of grabbing the cloth before he resumed their earlier activity. Not that she didn't want to, but she had work to do. Casting an eye over the kitchen, the baker correctly surmised that yes, the cloth Sweeney was holding was the only one she had.
Just. Simply. Perfect.
Oh well, she'd have to take her chances. Sashaying casually over to the barber, Nellie quickly darted out a hand, snatched the cloth out of his hand and neatly sidestepped the other hand that tried to grab her.
…Or at least, it would have been neatly, if she hadn't stepped on the hem of her dress, causing her to stumble and fall, staggering, onto Sweeney's chest. He looked surprised only for a moment, before locking his arms around her waist, pulling her closer so their faces were only a few inches apart.
"Mrs Lovett…" He breathed.
"Yes?" Nellie's heart thudded faster, certain he was about to kiss her, and now suddenly not minding that she had work to do at all. Sweeney's expression became bored and disinterested.
"Don't you have work to do?"
Nellie glared at his change of heart, and then shrugged.
"It can wait." She replied, pressing her lips to Sweeney's.
