First off, I feel SUPER bad that this chapter took so long to be posted. I was on vacation for four days, and I was originally going to make this even longer than it's already insane longness... so I hope you're all happy with it. :)

OOH! I also have a fun Sweeney story for you all. I was wearing my Sweeney Todd t-shirt when my brother, mom and I went into this sword/knife store. The clerks there noticed my shirt... and they brought out a replica of one of Sweeney's razors!! I totally bought one and sang "My Friends" for the next six hours straight. :) It's awesome. Anyways, onto the chapter!

Sweeney Todd tenderly pressed his lips to Nellie Lovett's smooth neck. She allowed her eyes to flutter shut as she smiled, hardly able to contain the happiness she felt. She settled her head back into his shoulder, allowing the world around her to slowly blur. Tears began to stream down her face, slowly pooling on Sweeney's chest. He compassionately kissed the top of her head.

"Wot's wrong, pet?" he asked.

"Oh, i's nothin' love… I jus'…" She paused, trying to put her thoughts into words so they would make sense to him. "I don't think you know how long I've been waitin' for this to 'appen."

He sighed into the mess of curls still piled on top of her head. "Nellie, I'm not as ignorant as you think I am. I know how long you've been waiting. And so did Benjamin Barker."

She parted her lips, tipping her head closer to his ear.

"I love you," she whispered, her hand resting on his chest just above his pulsating heart. He tipped her head up to meet his gaze.

"Nellie…" he paused, his breathing slow and heavy. "I love you too."

Crash.

Mrs. Lovett awoke with a start, rain pounding relentlessly down on the large window in the roof. Every few seconds lightning would unnaturally illuminate the room, casting strange black and white shadows over everything. She rose a hand to her bare chest to find that her heart was racing. 'It was all just a dream then…'

Another flash lit up the room, and Mrs. Lovett's eyes fell on the unclothed figure of Sweeney Todd lying beside her. So it hadn't all been a dream… Thank God. But of course, the thing she longed for, the thing she had dreamed of him saying for so long had been just that. A dream.

She quickly rose a hand to her mouth to stifle a giggle, however. The sight of him, just laying there naked on the floor struck her as slightly funny. She stood up and looked out the window, observing the storm crash around her. A shiver ran up her spine as the cool evening air permeated her bare skin. She wrapped her arms around herself as her eyes flitted over the floor, searching for where her nightgown had been carelessly thrown.

She found it, the creamy lace pooling on the floor behind Sweeney's barber chair. She picked it up, observing the large slit that had been made down the front of it. "Bugger it…" she whispered to herself. "An' I liked this nightgown too…" Nevertheless, she knew she couldn't just waltz back into her shop naked, so she pulled the fabric over her shoulders, holding it closed with both hands.

It was a bit past daybreak, she knew, and she had pies to bake… She wandered back to Sweeney and kneeled down at his side. She adored how peaceful he looked while he slept. It wasn't a facial expression he wore otherwise.

She stayed by his side for a while, just watching his chest slowly rise and fall with every breath he took. She definitely knew now he felt something for her, whatever it was… but it undeniably wasn't love... yet. He was still always so silent, still obviously brooding over what happened so long ago in his past. It had completely consumed him. And she wasn't sure she could handle it for much longer. But, she supposed having some of him was better than not having him at all.

She ended her stream of conciousness with the thought that he had to be freezing. She walked purposefully into the room adjacent to the barber's parlor and grabbed a blanket from the bed. She moved back over to him and draped it over his body, which shuddered slightly at the blanket covering him. She smiled as she lightly kissed his cheekbone; drawing her nightgown closed before disappearing down the stairs and into her pie shop.

After having changed into some proper clothes (her favorite dress, crimson fabric trimmed with black lace and beads), she immediately rushed down to the bakehouse. She was starting an hour later than usual, and there was so much work to be done…

The muscles of her inner thighs burned as she descended the familiar stairs, sore from the night before. She paused, closing her eyes and savoring the pain as a blanket of warmth swept over her. Her lips drew up into a smile at the mere recollection of the previous night. That look in his eyes as he had looked into hers; as they had lingered on every part of her body… He had finally looked at her for her. For a few minutes, she had saved him from the demons of his past, his black heart beating as her own.

It had been better than she had ever imagined; so ragged and stormy and beautiful… She shook her head, collecting herself from the confines of her mind. She stared at the metallic door to the bakehouse. There was so much work to be done…

But she opened the door nonetheless. Nothing could ruin this day for her. It was storming, which just happened to be her favorite type of weather, and she was wearing her most beautiful dress… She twirled around, a few stray red curls twisting with her as her favorite melody poured from her vocal cords.

Ooh, Mr. Todd, I'm so happy, I could eat you up, I really could! You know what I'd like to do, Mr. Todd? Wot I dreamed-"

Mrs. Lovett abruptly paused, finally opening her eyes from her daydreamed waltz around the bakehouse. Something wasn't right here. The now-familiar scent of death wasn't there to greet her. Her eyes flew up to the trap door in the ceiling before falling to the floor beneath it. There weren't any corpses there, and judging by the lack of bloodstains there hadn't been one since Judge Turpin had fallen to his death. Had he really not slit anyone's throat since that night? She could hardly believe that…

And what, exactly, was she supposed to do now for meat? She had already used all the spare meat she usually kept around; she was completely out. Well, this was just perfect. They definitely couldn't open for lunch, but maybe if she sent Toby to the butcher's and she stayed back and started making filling and crust… Yes, that would have to work. She sighed, glaring up at the trapdoor. That hopeless, captivating man…

She rushed back up to her pie shop, writing down her order on a scrap of paper she found lying on the counter. She then glanced up, finally noticing that Toby was sitting at the table, eating a bite of breakfast. "Morning, love. Didja sleep alrigh'?" Mrs. Lovett asked, leaning her on her elbows into the flour-caked counter.

Toby swallowed, nodding. "Yeah, mum, I did." He paused. He really looked at Mrs. Lovett, noticing how she was almost… glowing. Toby hadn't seen her this happy since… since that day they had all had that picnic at the park. He smiled up at her. "You look… really 'appy," Toby said, blinking nervously. He then looked back down at his plate, shifting the food around with his fork.

She smiled even more widely as she came around the counter, sitting across from him. "Aw. Thank you, dear. And…" she paused, fidgeting with her fingers. "I am really happy." She paused, staring off into space before recollecting herself from her daydreams.

"Now, I need ya to run this to the butcher's. We're out 'o' meat," she said, sliding the piece of paper across the table to him. He picked it up, his face confused with his inability to comprehend the words written there. "Not to worry, the butcher'll understand wot's written there. Hurry along, now."

Toby nodded before immediately abandoning his breakfast and hustling off to the butcher's shop. Mrs. Lovett observed him running through the streets with concern, hoping he wouldn't get completely drenched before he reached the butcher…

But every nerve in her body clenched as she heard the door to the shop unexpectedly opened and closed. She wasn't sure she was ready to face him just yet, and so she remained with her back to the door.

"Mrs. Nellie Lovett?" a male voice inquired of her. That certainly wasn't Mr. T's voice… than who's was it? She turned around, and her breath stopped when she saw who was in her pie shop. They were here.

Two surly looking police officers, dripping wet from the rain were standing authoritatively in front of the door. She momentarily stared at them, eyes wide with her mouth open and gaping.

'Well, it's over.' She thought. 'We'll both be dead before the week is out. But… at least he rumpled me bedding before this 'appened.' She stood up to face them, her head held high; supported with utmost confidence. She smiled, her eyes sparkling at them both. She wasn't ashamed of what they'd done.

"Yes, tha's me," she said, brushing the ever-present traces of flour from her dress. "Well, wot can I do for you two gentlemen on such a dreary day?" Mrs. Lovett asked. She wasn't going down without a fight.

Sweeney Todd was descending the stairs to the pie shop, not acknowledging the pounding rain soaking through his clothes. He was trying his hardest to keep his mind completely void of all thoughts. He just couldn't allow himself to think about what had happened between them just yet. He stopped just before he reached the door, extending a hand to rest on the wall. No. He could think about it.

He and Mrs. Lovett had had sex, to put it plainly. And… and it hadn't been anything more than lust and the heat of the moment.

He had thrown the daisies out a window the moment he had awoken. They were a concrete reminder of the fact that he did genuinely care about Mrs. Lovett. They had reminded him… that a new life with her was possible. And he didn't want to face that fact just yet. Them having sex had probably meant so much to her… when to him it had been, well, amazing would be an understatement, but it had been full of only lust for him. Nothing more.

Yes… that is what he would explain to her. He did owe her at least that.

He looked up, and the scene he saw playing out in the pie shop before him made him freeze; his hand inches from the doorknob. The authorities had finally dropped in to question them. And then that feeling of sickening realization settled over him; as if he were being slowly submerged in ice water. The police were here, probably to question the disappearance of the Judge… and his life was, at this moment, in the hands of Nellie Lovett. The woman who had missed out on learning the appropriate times to keep her mouth shut. He felt he might as well hang himself right then and now.

But he kept his eyes fixated on her every movement through the rain-painted window nonetheless; he couldn't bring himself to look away. And in that moment he truly began to realize just how much he relied on Mrs. Lovett to live.

"Ah, Mrs. Lovett. We just have a few questions for you, is all," the officer on the left stated. He was a short, fat, greasy sort of man. Mrs. Lovett's heart began to race in her chest, but it was impossible to tell by her outward appearance. She had always been a good actress.

"Alrigh'," she said, nodding and smiling pleasantly. "Oh, you mus' be chilled to the bone, walkin' here in rain like this! Let me at least fetch ya some tea," she said insistently, her hands patiently folded in front of her.

The fat man spoke again. "Much appreciated, ma'am, but I'm afraid we've only time to ask you a few questions." Mrs. Lovett smiled shyly, looking back and forth between them in polite anticipation of their first question. The fat man nudged the taller, skinnier man of the two, obviously urging him to say something.

The second man cleared his throat. "Well, I'm sure you are familiar with the Beadle Bamford and the honorable Judge Turpin." He looked expectantly at Mrs. Lovett, as though he expected her to confess on the spot. This man had an air of anxiousness about him; as if he thought every person they questioned was guilty of committing a crime.

"'O' course. Two absolutely fine gentlemen, always active in the community and 'elpin' others… Didn' know either of 'em very well, though we always exchanged pleasantries in passing." Her voice never faltered, slow and calm as she lied through her teeth.

"Ah… I see," the fat man broke in. "Well, then it is with a heavy heart that I must inform you that both men have gone missing." Mrs. Lovett's eyes grew wide as she brought a hand up to delicately cover her mouth in false surprise.

"Oh dear… terrible news indeed," Mrs. Lovett sympathized, her voice lowered.

"Yes," the fat man continued, "This disappearance has shocked many throughout the neighborhood. And this brings us to the purpose of our visit. We've just been asking around the community to see if anyone might have information that will aid in solving this mysterious occurance."

She sighed in mock frustration. "I really wish I could be of more help to you gentlemen." She shrugged, gazing up at the ceiling and back at them. "I mean, the last time I saw 'em must've been more'n a week ago, down at St. Dunstan's Marketplace."

'Or perhaps on the floor of my bakehouse, lying dead in their own blood… But I'm sure you can understand why I get them confused.'

Both police officers nodded, collecting themselves as they made movements to leave. And through the corner of her eye, Mrs. Lovett could have sworn she saw a figure dart underneath the stairs. "Well, Mrs. Lovett, ma'am, we thank you for your time," the fat police officer said as the tall one opened the door. Thunder crashed around them, rain pounding down still, hard as ever.

"Ah, no trouble at all. I 'ope you find what you're lookin' for very soon. But do go home soon and warm your bones in front 'o' the fire from this awful storm," she said, moving to hold the door open for the two of them.

The overweight man laughed solemnly, obviously the more authoritive of the two men. "Ah, we'll be sure to do so, Mrs. Lovett, ma'am." They all nodded and politely wished one another well before the two men hustled off to their next destination, despite the gale of the storm outside.

Mrs. Lovett smiled, thoroughly pleased with herself and her performance, made herself a cup of tea and sat down to relax. She had pulled it off; she had saved their lives…

She was unbelieveably content and happy with the entire world, smiling as she swallowed the hot fluid down her throat. She had just brought the cup up to her lips again, blocking her vision when the door to her pie shop opened and closed. She slowly lowered the cup to the table, not looking up at who was sure to be Sweeney Todd.

Her gaze was fixated at her cup, her ears picking up the noise of him walking closer to her before sitting on the chair across from her. She gradually brought her eyes up to look into his.

Sweeney, for once, didn't break their gaze. He was trying to understand how she had so convincingly told the two police officers she hadn't seen either man in weeks. Not once had she shown even the slightest sign of nervousness… He admired her for it. She was more strong-willed than he had imagined.

They remained staring at each other for nearly five minutes, neither of the two saying a word before Mrs. Lovett broke the silence.

"Morning, love," she whispered. The corner of his mouth quivered as he slowly shifted uncomfortably in his seat. You couldn't cut the awkwardness between them with a knife if you tried… "Last nigh' wos perfect," she whispered, her voice openly expressing her vulnerability. Her index finger was slowly tracing the rim of the tea cup.

"No…" Sweeney muttered deeply. Mrs. Lovett paused, looking up at him. She blinked wordlessly, nervously at him, her lips parted slightly.

"Wot? So it… it wosn't… y'know… good for you?" she asked.

Sweeney stifled an exasperated sigh. "Quite the contrary, dear." Mrs. Lovett smiled into her tea. "But…" he continued. "It was nothing more than that."

Mrs. Lovett clenched her fingertips into the tabletop as she closed her eyes. She did not want to hear this, she couldn't…

She abruptly stood up and strode behind the counter, immediately grasping her rolling pin to make the much-needed pie crust. She was inwardly cursing herself for believing it had maybe meant more to him than an outlet for pent-up lust… But Sweeney had mutilated those feeble hopes in one fell swoop.

Sweeney sat at the table still, watching her pound the dough with a very confused expression on his face. He had expected her to completely break down and scream and cry… But she had done none of those things. He strode over to the counter.

"I was just frustrated…" he said, so quietly it was almost beneath his breath. She paused for a mere instant before resuming her pummeling of the dough. The silence was unbearable. What the hell was wrong with her; why was she so bloody quiet? Why wasn't she even facing him? Of all the times he had wished she would shut up… never once had she actually done it. He was rapidly discovering her silences were even more agonizing than her incoherent babbling. Finally, though, she looked up.

"I know. I know it was just… lust," she said, irritated, wishing with everything she had for it to be different. "But… I love you," she whispered so quietly she wasn't sure she had actually vocalized it.

Sweeney felt his chest twinge at her murmur. He was already angry at her reaction, but… he was even more full of rage at his reaction to her words.

Before he knew what he was doing, he raced behind the counter and had pinned her against the brick wall, hands clenched around her porcelain throat. And she just looked up at him, her face as calm as if she had been strolling through the park. His eyebrows, initially drawn up in confusion shot back down with fury.

"Stop asking me for something I will never be capable of giving you," he growled, his face dangerously close to hers.

And still, her face remained unsurprised, unstrained. Her own rage was slowly bubbling to the surface, but wasn't quite ready to burst just yet.

"I could never do that to my Lucy, do you understand me? I could never replace the life we had…" Finally he allowed his hands to fall to his sides and turned away from her. He couldn't look into her shining, brown eyes anymore…

Mrs. Lovett opened her mouth, enjoying seeing him freeze at her words. "Did you ever stop to think… that maybe I don't bloody want to replace her?" she said, her voice low and dangerous. "She was Benjamin's. She'll never be Sweeney Todd's like I already have, and… and that's all I've ever wanted," she whispered, glaring at his back. He did nothing but turn around, looking into her eyes again.

"I hate everything you do to me." He then moved away from Mrs. Lovett and started towards the door. It was like throwing a flaming match into a pool of gasoline.

She threw her rolling pin at him, hitting him square in the back. "You're intolerable!" she screamed, her voice murderous. The door to her shop slammed shut behind him, practically making the thin walls shake. She looked down at her hands, which were trembling with fury. His words had hurt her… but… she couldn't allow herself to give up just yet.

Her lips actually quivered into a smile when she thought of how he had said she was good in bed. 'Well,' she thought, "I'll show 'im just 'ow good I can be."

UGH. I'm still not completely happy with everything that happened w/ Mrs. Lovett and Sweeney at the end there. No, I really don't like it much. But if I don't move on I'll never continue with the story. So, I'm curious, did anyone think the beginning bit was real? I was hoping it would cause some of you to be angry at how I made Sweeney OOC... it wasn't me, though! It was all Mrs. Lovett. :D Hope you all enjoyed this! Review and tell me your thoughts. 'Cause I like 'em. Thanks loves!