Stephen Sondheim and Tim Burton owns Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street. I own my own people.
My guy's POV is in italics at the bottom of the chapter.
Mrs. Lovett took the shopping basket from Toby and placed it on the table while Toby got out a large pot of stew they had the other night from the fridge and placed it on the table as well. Mrs. Lovett went to the stove and turned it on high.
There was a knock on the door.
"I'll get it, mum," Toby said, walking towards the door.
When he got there, he saw a man standing outside the door. He walked to the door and opened it.
"May I help ya, sir?"
"Yes, I was wondering if the owner of the shop was at home."
" 'Ang on a moment," and he rushed away from the door.
"Mum, theres a man 'ere ta see ya."
Mrs. Lovett looked at him in confusion. It was well after closing time, and no one had ever come to see her specifically, not since Sweeney any way.
She walked to the door, wiping her hands on her dress. She stopped suddenly at the man standing in her doorstop. His hair was a dark brown that looked very well cared for. He had a very handsome face, one which made her stop and gaze at it for a moment.
"Are you Mrs. Lovett?" he asked her.
She cleared her throat and walked over to him.
"Yes, 'ow can I 'elp ya?"
"I just came into town, and I know you're closed, but I was just wondering if whether or not you had something to eat? It's just I 'aven't 'ad anything to eat all day, and I've heard a great many things about your pie shop. I don't have any money, however."
She looked at him for a moment more before she smiled.
"O' 'course, love, come on in."
"Thank you, mam. Are you sure your husband wouldn't mind?"
"Me 'usband died seventeen years ago."
"I'm sorry," he said softly, "I didn't mean to-"
"Don't worry 'bout it, ya didn't know. Come on," and she moved out of the way to let him past.
"Thank you," he told her walking into the shop.
Mrs. Lovett closed the door behind him and took a deep breath and smoothed out her dress before she walked up to him.
"So where were you before you came 'ere?"
"London. My wife left me for another man 'bout a month ago. Finally 'ad enough of the memories and came here." He chuckled sadly, "kind of a stupid move on my part, seeing as how I gots no where to go."
"Oh, ya poor dear," Mrs. Lovett said sympathetically as they entered the kitchen where Toby was placing the pot of stew on the stove.
"This is me son, Toby," she said motioning to Toby
"How do you do?"
"Fine, thank ya sir," he said getting out four bowls from the cupboard.
Mrs. Lovett began to clear off the table, and the man quickly grabbed some of the dirty dishes and put them in a sink.
"No, no, don't worry 'bout that." She took the dishes from him, "you just sit down and not worry 'bout a thing, Mr., forgive me, but might I ask wot your name is?"
"How rude of me. My name's Thomas Daniels," he said extending his hand.
"Nellie Lovett," she said grabbing his hand. Instead of shaking it however, he brought her hand to his lips and gently kissed it.
She blushed and cleared her throat. "Well, just sit on down, dinner should be ready in 'bout twenty minutes." She released his hand and put the dirty dishes in the sink.
"I'm sorry 'bout the dinner bein' jus' left overs. It's jus' I didn't 'ave a lot of time to cook today, wot with goin' to the market and everything."
"I completely understand. I'm sure a beautiful woman like yourself must have a terribly busy schedule. "
She blushed once more and he smiled at her.
"I'm sorry, that was rude of me."
Mrs. Lovett offered him a weak smile.
"No, no, not at all. In fact thank ye' for sayin' that."
"Why would you need to thank me for speaking the truth?" Thomas asked softly, meeting her somewhat shocked eyes.
"I, I'm gonna go tell Mr. T, dinner's almost ready."
She quickly left the shop and as soon as she closed the door, she leaned against it.
"Good lord!" she muttered softly, her heart pounding against her chest. No man had called her beautiful in a long time, certainly not one as handsome as that. She shook her head before going up the steps to Mr. Todd's shop.
"Mr. T," she said knocking on the door. She waited a few moments before his door flew open.
"What?" he asked, somewhat annoyed.
"Dinner's almost done, love. Just thought you'd oughta know."
He gave a grumble of thanks before he moved to go back inside.
"By the way, love," Mrs. Lovett continued, "we 'ave a guest with us tonight. Quite the charmer if I do say so me self," she finished with a dreamy smile on her face.
He whipped around and looked at her for a moment, glaring slightly. He pushed by her rather roughly and stormed down the steps, Mrs. Lovett following.
He wenched her shop door open and walked into the kitchen where Thomas was was sitting at the table patently and Toby was getting out four glasses.
"who are you?" Sweeney asked coldly. Thomas looked over at him and stood up.
"I'm Thomas Daniels, and you are?" he answered extending his hand to him.
"Sweeney Todd. I live above the shop," he said, not taking the mans hand.
Thomas must have sensed the coldness coming from him because he withdrew his hand and sat back down in his chair.
Mrs. Lovett walked into the kitchen and went over to the stove and tasted the left over stew.
"Dinners 'bout ready. Should be 'bout ten more minutes."
She got out a bottle of gin and four glasses and put them on the table, pouring a very healthy amount in all four.
"Thanks, mum," Toby said taking the largest of the glasses and downing it before topping off his glass once again.
"Don't mind 'im, the boy drinks like a sailor" Mrs. Lovett told Thomas who was looking at Toby with something of astonishment. "So, Mr Daniels-"
"Thomas, please,"
"I'm sorry. So, Thomas, wot did you do before you found your self on Fleet Street?"
"I was a doctor. Finest one in London."
"I highly doubt that," Sweeney said, taking a drink from his cup.
"Anyway," Thomas said, glaring slightly at Sweeney, "after me wife ran off, I just didn't feel like even getting out of bed in the morning. Started showin' up later and later, finally just stopped coming all together. They gave me my final paycheck and sent me on my way. Stayed 'bout a week 'fore I finally just got up and left.
"Wot 'appened to all your things?"
"Left them. I couldn't stand anythin' 'bout that apartment after she left me."
"So you left a grand life and home, with a great job because your wife left you and have no clothes, no place to live, and no money? Not the smartest move if you don't mind me saying," Sweeney said. Thomas glared at him once more.
"So tell me, Mr. Todd, what is it that you do for a living that makes you so high up on your horse?"
"I'm a barber."
"And you find that meaningful? Your days spent shaving men for pennies while living over a bakery?"
Mrs. Lovett saw anger flash in his eyes so she quickly cleared her throat.
"Stews almost done," she announced getting up from the table and going over to the stove.
The two men looked at one another with one another with anger before Sweeney stood up.
"May I see you in the parlor for a moment, Mrs. Lovett?"
" 'O course I-" he grabbed her arm and pulled her out of the room, Thomas staring after them.
"Mr. T, wots wrong?" she asked as he let go of her arm.
"Get him out of here."
"Why?"
"I don't like him."
Mrs. Lovett laughed and shook her head.
"Wots not to like 'bout 'im?"
"How about the fact that he degraded and insulted me?"
"Well in all fairness, Mr. T, you did insult 'im first."
He glared angrily at her, but she didn't back down.
"I want him gone."
"Oh come now, Mr. Todd. Surly you o' all people can appreciate th' wantin's o' a little food, a bit o' courtesy."
He narrowed his eyes at her but she simply stared right back.
"He leaves right after dinner," he mumbled, and he walked back into the kitchen.
"Stubborn ox," she muttered, also walking back in the kitchen, where Toby was passed out, his head lying on the table, a half empty bottle of gin in his hand.
"Your son kind of, passed out," Thomas said to Sweeney as he sat down at the table. "Gotta be a record, I say."
"That insignificant waste of space is no child of mine."
"Stop it, be nice. Wots th' poor lad ever done ta you?" Mrs. Lovett scolded, taking the bottle away from him.
"So you're not his father?"
He jerked his hand towards Mrs. Lovett who was now ladling the stew into a bowl, "No. Nor is she his mother."
"But you said-"
"I adopted th' lad. "E lived in a work 'ouse all 'is life, went ta work wit' some awful eye talion who abandoned 'im. I'm all hes got, th' poor dear."
She smiled down at his sleeping form for a moment before she turned back to dishing out the stew.
"Wow. A lot of people would have just sent him back to the work house. You must have a very kind heart."
"It's jus' I know wot its like growin' up in them places. 'Orrible they was back when I was young, don't expect they've changed much since," she said setting a bowl of stew in front of him.
"You grew up in a work house?" Sweeney asked a little taken back.
He had known her for almost four years before he was arrested, and she never even mentioned it. Yet here she was, telling it to a man who she knew fort a total of ten minutes.
She nodded, placing a bowl of stew in front of Sweeney, "seventeen years 'o me life. Then a baker came in one day and asked for an apprentice. Never looked back since."
"Why haven't you shared this with me before now?" She shrugged.
"It never came in a conversation."
Mr. T glared at her before picking up his spoon and dove into his stew.
"Oh, Mr. T, will you do me a favor and carry 'im to 'is room?" Mrs. Lovett asked, pulling Toby's chair out from the table.
He shook his head before putting another bite of stew in his mouth."You're his mother, you do it."
He normally would have done it, he may have grumbled while he was doing it, but he usually had no problem with carrying a passed out Toby to bed. For some reason though, he didn't want her to be alone with him. Just the way he acted towards her.
He wasn't being cruel to her or anything like that, but he just seemed to good for her to be true, or at least have honest intentions.
"I'll do it," Thomas said standing up.
"No no, love, don't worry 'bout it. I've got 'im."
"Please, Nellie, I'd be happy to do it."
"It's Mrs. Lovett," Sweeney grumbled, but luckily neither one heard him.
"No really, jus' sit down and enjoy your supper."
"A woman as beautiful as you shouldn't have to work like that."
Sweeney almost chocked on his stew while Mrs. Lovett blushed a violent red.
"I, I, I uh," she smiled at him, "Thank you."
"Like I said earlier," he stood up and looked into her eyes, "why should you have to thank me for speaking the truth?"
They each looked into one another's eyes for a moment before he turned towards Toby and picked him up gently.
She pointed the door that led to the parlor."Just through there, 'e sleeps on th' couch."
He nodded before he took off through the door, her staring after him.
"You know what I think," Sweeney said menacingly.
"Wots that, dear?" she asked still staring at the door he just went through.
"I think that it's about time I offer him a shave."
She whipped around quickly.
"Mr. T, don't! I mean," but words failed her.
"Why? He's simply a stranger off the street. And you've never served doctor before."
"Mr. Todd, please. I-" but he had walked back in the room.
"Your boy can drink like a fish, I'll tell you what," Thomas said with a laugh.
He noticed that both Mrs. Lovett and Sweeney was looking at him.
"What's going on?"
"Nothin', love. Jus' sit down an' eat."
He looked between Mrs. Lovett and Sweeney once more before he sat down and began to eat his stew.
Mrs. Lovett looked over at Sweeney who glared at her for a moment before he too began to eat his stew.
"So, if you don't mind me askin', are you two a couple?"
"No," Sweeney said quickly.
"'E's me tenant."
"Forgive me for asking , Nellie, but," he leaned in towards her and a mischievous glint appeared in his eye, "are you seeing anyone at the moment?"
"Alright," Sweeney slammed his hand down on the table and stood up. "Thats it. Get out."
"Mr. Todd, stop it." 'Ee doesn't mean that, love," she said casting a glare at Sweeney.
"I never say anything I don't mean. I want you out, and I want you out now."
"Well with all due respect, Mr. Todd," Thomas stood up I believe that's up to her to decide if I want to leave her home or not."
"It may be her home, but I make the rules. Now get out."
"Mr. Todd! Stop it, 'Ee 'as as much right ta be 'ere as you do."
"I live here, he's a begger who came in off the streets."
She looked at him, nothing but anger in her eyes, but he didn't care.
"Get out," Sweeney told him slowly, removing his jacket to revel his razor sticking out of his holster. Thomas looked at Sweeney for a moment longer before he turned to Mrs. Lovett.
"It was a lovely meal, and I thank you, Nellie."
He walked over to her and took her hand in his and kissed it once more.
"OUT!" Sweeney yelled, pulling out his razor and pointing it at him.
"Have a pleasant evening," he said with a low bow before walking out of the shop, Sweeney glaring at him all the while. When they heard the tiny bell over the door ring, he put his razor back and sat down.
" I can't believe you! Wot on earth made you do somthin' like that!" she yelled, storming up to him.
"He fancied you," he said without emotion, picking up his spoon and taking another bite of stew.
"I know! Do you know 'ow long it's been since a man treated me like that?!"
"In all honesty, I don't really care, Mrs. Lovett. Probably a long time."
"That's right! So why did you 'ave to spoil it?"
"Because I'm not about to let you be taken advantage of by some begger off the street."
"Taken advantage of!" she screamed, "'Please! if anyone is taken advantage o' me, it's you! Brooding up there all day long, harping on the bloody ol' judge while I'm down here cookin', cleanin', servin' the customers, makin' our meals, dealin' wit' your bodies, and do I even get a thanks from you it at ? No! A ten year ol' appreciates me more then a grown man does!"
"Is that my problem? Now be a dear and pass me the bottle of gin."
She growled at him and stormed off, slamming the front door behind her.
"Bloody wench," he muttered taking another bite of stew.
Mrs. Lovett slammed the door behind her and let out a frustrated yell.
"Don't tell me he kicked you out as well?" a voice behind her asked.
She whipped around and let out a sigh of relief when Thomas was standing there, a smile plastered on his face.
"No, it's jus' sometimes I can't stand that man."
"So kick him out."
"I can't."
"Why not?"
"He'd 'ave no where to go."
"See that's your problem right there, Nellie." He took another step closer.
"Oh yeah? and wots that?" she asked taking a step towards him.
He walked up to her and was barely an inch away from her, he met her eyes.
"You are just too kind."
"'Ow is that a bad thing?" she asked in almost a whisper.
He chuckled and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.
"It's not bad, it's perfect."
Without another word, he leaned in and kissed her softly on the lips. She was unsure of what to do for a moment before she closed her eyes and kissed him back. He ran a hand through her red curls before he pulled back.
"Perfect," he repeated in a whisper, stroking her face.
She opened her eyes and her lips still tingled, she had to control her breathing. She hasn't been kissed in a long time, she had almost forgotten what it felt like.
"I must be going, I need to find a decent place to stay."
"Will you come back?" she whispered.
He chuckled then ran a hand through her curls once more.
"You can count on it, Nellie."
He smiled his dazzling smile at her once more before he turned and left.
"Fuck!" I screamed to myself as I walk away from her. She was all too perfect. Kind, beautiful as anyone I've ever seen, single, trusting, doesn't see bad in anyone probably, she even has a son I can use against her! Then that stupid barber has to mess things up. Damn him! Damn him to hell!
I take a few more steps before I force myself to calm down. My project would never be complete if I let my anger get the best of me. I'll just have to deal with the barber my own way.
I reach in my coat pocket and pulled out my knife, still wet and sticky from the blood I spilled from the slut and her daughter not even an hour ago. I smile as I run my finger against the soft, smooth side of the knife. The barber would be no problem, no problem at all.
I chuckle before I put the knife away in my pocket and walk on, looking for the one who I would have to sacrifice in order to gain lodgings for the night.
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