Why yes, it's another chapter! It was a rather funny one to write. I had no idea where it was going, and then this happened. Oh, and anyone who can tell what movie some of Sweeney and Lovett's later lines are taken/adapted from gets a meat pie... or perhaps just profound congratulations. (Don't feel bad if you don't-- they're rather vague.)

'Mr T?'

She rapped lightly on the door. She could see his back through the frosted glass, turned carefully away from her to face the window, but she knew he'd heard her.

'Mr Todd, I wish you'd let me in.'

Still he didn't move. Mrs Lovett frowned. This was getting ridiculous. Sweeney Todd had refused to let her into his shop for nearly three days now, never answering the door when she tried to speak to him, and forcing her to leave his meals and other necessities on the step outside. Surely it wasn't healthy for a man to spend all his time cooped up like that. He'd use up all the air in there if he didn't come out soon. More frustrating still was the fact that, as far as Mrs Lovett could tell, she had done nothing at all to warrant such shunning. True, there was the incident a few nights ago when he'd caught her poking about up here, but it had been a stupid affair, and she was sure he couldn't still be angry with her for it. Despite all his venom, Sweeney Todd had a rather short memory for anything that didn't concern the judge, or his wonderful razors.

She knocked again, harder this time. 'C'mon, love, don't be stupid. Open the door.'

He turned around then, black eyes slitted with anger, and quickly Mrs Lovett realized she had gone too far. She stepped away from the door, and she saw that her breath had left a little blush of condensation on the glass. And for a moment she felt absurdly guilty about getting breath on his window—before Mr Todd wrenched the door open from the other side, setting the bell jingling about like a mad hornet.

He made an expression at her, an odd pull of the mouth that Mrs Lovett realized was supposed to be a smile. 'Is there something you want, Mrs Lovett?"

She gulped. She had spent enough time around Mr Todd to know that he was in one of his frightening, murderous moods, the kind you were lucky to escape from alive. What had sparked it, however, she still couldn't say. 'I… I just wanted to see you, love. I haven't seen you in ages…'

Another smile cracked his face like ice breaking on a frozen lake. 'Indeed, my pet. You wanted to see me. How very sweet of you. You always were thoughtful.'

Though these were the words Mrs Lovett had wanted to hear from her barber for a very long time, the way he spoke them—with a snarling imitation of sincerity that sent chills down her spine—erased any happiness she might have felt. Mr Todd was admittedly a violent and unpredictable creature, and he frightened her sometimes. 'Mr T…' she tried cautiously.

He gripped her wrist, his other arm held out in a gesture of mock welcome she had often seen him use on his customers. She winced. That couldn't bode well. 'By all means, come in, Mrs Lovett. That is what you wanted to do, isn't it?'

'I'—

Without waiting for an answer, he pulled her forward and shoved her into his barber's chair. She sprang up again, fear desperately beating its wings against the cage of her ribs. Todd looked up from where he had been rather ominously opening his box of razors. Withdrawing one, he paced towards her with measured steps. 'Why don't you sit down, Mrs Lovett?'

'I… You're going to kill me, aren't you?'

'Why ever would you think such a thing of me? You, who seem to know me so much better than anyone else?' His voice had a singsong quality now, mocking her.

'What'—

'We are more alike than you think, darling.'

'Mr T, what are you'—

He whipped the razor up to her neck, though whether it was a threat or an offering, she couldn't tell. 'These. My friends. You want them too, I know you do. I've seen you.'

The fear in her eyes twisted suddenly into confusion. He thought she wanted to steal his razors? She almost laughed, but was thankfully able to choke it back. 'I can assure you, love, I've no intention of;--

Todd growled, circling her now, the silver in his hand still glinting like a promise. 'I've seen the way you look at me when I have them. I saw you trying to break into my shop.'

Mrs Lovett's eyes widened. Surely he couldn't be oblivious to her affection? She hadn't been exactly subtle. 'I don't stare at you because of the razors, you great useless thing.' She gulped, suddenly painfully aware of how close the stinging edge of the blade was to her skin. 'I… I do it because…' The unguarded honesty in here eyes made him sick, and he looked away. 'I love you. Did you not know?'

Sweeney had been about to hiss another threat at her, or perhaps even just slit her throat and get it over with, but his landlady's tender admission froze him in place. He stopped circling her, and his arm dropped shakily back to his side, the razor grazing her collarbone as it fell. Half a dozen emotions were rising in his throat, snaking and tangling together, choking him. Primary amongst them was relief; he was glad to know that his friends were safe, and also that he wouldn't have to kill the baker, for he knew that covering up all his murders would undoubtedly be much harder without her. Still, that didn't prevent him from being furious with this woman How dare she? Didn't she realize that nothing could ever come of it? Her haphazard affection was an insult to Lucy's memory, a blatant disrespect to it.

He looked back into Mrs Lovett's dark eyes, wide with anticipation and disbelief at what she'd just said. Todd hated that, for a moment, he wanted to live up to her hopes, to be a man she wouldn't have to fear being in love with, to give her something back. He reminded himself that it wasn't really him she loved, but a shadow of the man he used to be. He regarded her with flat eyes. 'I cannot give you what you seek.'

Her eyes glittered with tears, but they didn't spill outside her lashes. 'I know.'

He nodded shortly, suddenly unable to look at her.

'So will things be different now?' She asked softly.

'How do you mean?'

"Will you not talk to me now? Ignore me? Hate me?'

She stared at his profile, somehow dark against the window, despite his ice-pale skin. He didn't move for a moment, and then, 'I don't hate you, Mrs Lovett.'

A noise somewhere between a sob and a shriek of laughter escaped the bakers lips. How absurd that while others looked for a declaration of adoration and undying love from the one they cared for, she was just glad to know he didn't despise her.

Mr Todd gave her another of his inscrutable glances, and she smiled weakly. 'I'll be going now, Mr T. Let—let me know if you need anything.'

He nodded, and she closed the door behind her. He watched her go, and when she'd disappeared back into her shop, he turned away, running a hand over his face. Why could nothing be simple?