Wow... Ten chapters... O.o I realize that's not super-long, or anything, but... I had started this story before I had ever come across fanfiction; basically as a way to keep me from falling asleep in history class. :P It was three pages long, and only got up to seven before school was out... and I had never intended to continue with it 'til I found this site. It's now 38 pages long. So I'm very glad I did! I'm also extremely happy that people are enjoying it.
I started this chapter sooooo well, I was on a roll... but then, right at the end, I hit a major writer's block. And it was making me mega-angry. Probably wasn't helping I was working every day this past week... ah well. This chapter's a bit slow; mostly filler stuff. But like most filler chaps, it needs to be here. Enjoy and review, loves! XD
The lyrics sung by Mrs. Lovett are not owned by me; they're from the song "Again I Go Unnoticed" by Dashboard Confessional
Hours passed as Mrs. Lovett and Toby worked frantically to bake enough pies and get the shop ready for the dinner rush. Slowly but surely, the torrential rain came to a stop, and when dinnertime rolled around, Mrs. Lovett's patio was immediately filled with demanding and ravenous customers. She and Toby performed their distinct choreography together, moving fast and purposefully to meet the demands of the public and accomplish everything that needed to get done.
Mrs. Lovett weaved in and out of each table, making sure each person was satisfied as she plastered an imitated smile on her face; hiding the fact that she really just wanted to break down crying right there. She was getting extremely sick of having her biggest dreams within her grasp, and soon thereafter watching them slip right through her fingers.
No, what she really needed was just five minutes away from all this madness, and then she'd be perfectly fine… She twisted skillfully through the tables to where Toby stood refilling an obnoxiously loud man's cup of ale.
She bent down, tapping him on the shoulder to whisper in his ear. "Toby, love, I need to run down to the bakehouse for a tick. D'ya think you can manage by yourself for a couple minutes?"
Toby nodded. "O' course, mum. Jus' don't take too long," he said.
"Not to worry, love, I won't," she said, kissing his temple before they parted ways. Her feet flew down the stairs to the bakehouse and her arms went to open the door, but something stopped her. Instead, she leaned her back against the wall, ignoring the small twinge of pain from her healing injury, and slowly slid down into a sitting position. And with a shuddered breath, back heaving, tears sliding down her face, she lightly began to sing.
'Exhale.
Another wasted breath, again it goes unnoticed…
I feel like I might break; out of touch, out of time.
Please, send me anything… are we out of time?'
Her tears stopped falling as her heart began to swell with strength. Of course they weren't out of time. She had secured them the rest of their lives that morning to figure everything out… She slowly stood up, her bad mood lifted as soon as it had came, straightening her dress as she went. Her hands swiftly went to her back to re-tie her corset as tight as it would go; her breasts now straining against the crimson and black-laced bodice. She felt beautiful…
She hated the way Sweeney still would silently brood for hours over Lucy and Johanna and the Judge… Granted, she had known it all just wouldn't disappear the moment he had sliced his razor through Turpin's throat; she wasn't that naïve. But she was trying so hard to make him see that he wasn't alone in this world, and he was still blind as ever to the fact that she was willing to do anything for him.
She allowed herself to glance down, and she smiled; delicately biting her lower lip. Maybe this would open his eyes a bit.
She brought her hands up to deal with a few unruly strands of hair before venturing back out to the patio. A few people took notice of her flushed, blushing face and extremely prominent cleavage and immediately began to whisper among themselves. But Mrs. Lovett just smiled an amused smile to herself before swiftly returning to work.
Sweeney Todd was pacing, back and forth across the wooden floorboards of his tonsorial parlor; which was nothing out of the ordinary for him. But the thoughts running through his head weren't the usual ones, though this particular subject was slowly becoming more customary for him: Mrs. Lovett. He just couldn't get over that strange feeling that had filled his chest when she had uttered those three tiny words…
And he couldn't help but acknowledge that she was right. Besides initiating his creation, Lucy Barker would never have anything more to do with the life of Sweeney Todd, especially now that she was sleeping with angels. And Mrs. Lovett was right there in front of him.
The bell on his shop door sounded, and in walked a fairly average-looking man; nothing extraordinary about him at all. He politely recognized Sweeney's presence with a nod of his head before opening his mouth to speak.
"Mr. Todd, is that correct?" Sweeney wordlessly nodded; only once. "Ah, very good," the man continued. "I am in great need of your tonsorial services. I'm in a bit of a rush, you see, I've only a few hours before I must return to the docks and leave for Peru. I trust you are currently open for business?"
Sweeney forced his lips into a half-smile. So he was a sailor… a perfect candidate for meat pie filling. It had been far too long since he had felt warm blood spurt forth from beneath his beloved razor.
"Of course, sir. You've indeed come to the right place. I will guarantee you the closest shave in London," he pleasantly said, removing the man's coat before offering him a seat in his barber chair.
Images of Nellie, gasping for breath as she screamed with pleasure beneath him on that very chair suddenly flashed before his eyes. He clenched his eyes shut, attempting to clear the memory from his head. But, God, did he want her… He loved how she matched his intensity; his passion instead of being a proper lady and staying quiet while he had his way with her. No, Nellie Lovett was no "lady" at all…
She was always speaking her mind, drank to her heart's content, had a temper to rival his own… Mrs. Lovett was like the exact opposite of the woman Lucy had been. Then again, Sweeney Todd was the exact opposite of the man Benjamin Barker had been.
"Excuse me, Mr. Todd?" The brunette-haired sailor brought Sweeney out of the depths of his mind. "Is everything alright?"
"Oh, yes. O' course," Sweeney responded. "Let's get started, then." He grabbed a clean white sheet from his pile and draped it around the man's neck. He was just beginning to lather up the shaving cream before the sailor again began to speak.
"So…" He cleared his throat and shifted nervously a bit in the chair. "Um… the woman downstairs… the one who runs the delectable pie shop below your tonsorial parlor?"
Sweeney froze for a moment before resuming stirring the soap into a foamy lather. "Yes, and what of her, sir?"
The sailor laughed uncomfortably. "Well…" He cleared his throat again. "She isn't… I mean, she isn't your wife, is she?"
Mr. Todd again froze; the only part of him that moved was his face as it twitched slightly. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, trying to find words to answer him. "N-no. She's not," he whispered. He slowly whisked the brush across the man's face, feeling more and more rage towards this sailor bubble up in his throat.
Sweeney finished soaping the man's face; stepping back and glaring at him.
The sailor began to talk. Again, much to Sweeney's disdain. Why couldn't he just shut up?
"Ah, well, good…" He sharply exhaled. "She is absolutely beautiful… Those big, brown eyes?" Sweeney heard the sailor mutter under his breath. "And that dress she's wearing tonight is certainly no eyesore…"
With every word the sailor spoke, the more angry Sweeney became. He clenched his teeth firmly together. "Well… why don't you just sit back and relax sir; allow a simple barber to do his work?" Sweeney's voice was calm, but his glaring, fiery eyes proved otherwise. Finally, the man shut his mouth, shut his eyes and tipped his head back.
Mr. Todd slowly breathed, in and out, savoring that short moment of calm before he viciously sliced the razor through the man's throat. Crimson spurted out, drenching the previously white sheet. The only sound in the room was the blood, bubbling up in the sailor's throat as Sweeney stabbed his razor into his neck, over and over and over…
Finally, Sweeney stepped back, taking in the exceptional sight of his latest kill. Never before had he been filled with this much rage towards one of his "customers" before… Not since the Judge. He slowly walked over to the chair again, opening the trapdoor to send the corpse plummetting below; hitting the stone with a sickening crunch.
We all deserve to die…
He looked up at his reflection in the mirror; his face splattered with the thick, syrupy blood. This was the way he recognized himself best... He lingered on his mirrored image for a few moments more before crossing closer to the vanity, washing his face in the basin that sat on top of it. His face was quickly restored to its lustrous pale shade, while the cool water was now eerily tinged red.
He then glanced down at his cotton sleeves, which were now saturated sleeves. A twinge of panic settled over him before he spun around. Had Mrs. Lovett remembered to bring more clean shirts? He looked at the wicker basket in one corner of the room, which was filled to the brim with clean shirts. 'Eminently practical and appropriate as always…' He easily swapped his blood-saturated shirt with a clean one; the cool, white cotton easily slipping over his head to rest loosely around his arms.
The sailor's voice replayed his final sentence in Sweeney's head. 'And that dress she's wearing tonight is certainly no eyesore…' He burst out of his shop and onto the balcony, scanning the crowd until he spotted her. And the sudden straining in his pants that he felt at the mere sight of the woman gave truth to what the sailor had been talking about.
He was a tall, blonde and fairly decent-looking man, but he was standing inappropriately close to Mrs. Lovett; she could smell the ale on his breath. Her corset was obviously doing its job…
He reached out one hand, lightly placing it one one of her folded elbows. "So…" he said, his voice low and smooth. She shuddered lightly from his touch, horriffic images from years ago flashing before her eyes before she shoved them back into the depths of her mind. This was different. It had to be different…
This man (Allen, his name was), slowly began tracing circles upon her elbow with his index finger. "D'you think I could see you again sometime? You know… away from this, your shop, the customers?" She swallowed. This was exactly how it had started before.
Mrs. Lovett frantically looked around; people were beginning to eye them suspiciously… She then looked up at the balcony, spotting Sweeney's shadowy form looming over her. Their dark eyes met, and even from a distance, he could tell she was in a situation she desperately wanted to get out of.
Mrs. Lovett then met Allen's gaze, his dark green eyes making her feel dreadfully uncomfortable. She slowly withdrew herself from his touch. "Well… um, actually… tha' would, um…" Her voice quivered before she swallowed nervously. "I-"
"Ah, Mrs. Lovett." Sweeney had suddenly appeared at Mrs. Lovett's side, lightly placing his hand on the small of her back. She melted with relief; thankful he had come to her rescue. Sweeney attempted to smiled at Allen, but it looked more like a scowl to anyone looking at him. Allen backed away from the two, glaring slightly at Sweeney.
"I'm afraid, sir, my landlady and I have some very pressing matters that need attending to. If you'll excuse us…" Sweeney continued, guiding Mrs. Lovett away from the patio and up the stairs. She managed one charming smile at Allen before she allowed herself to be guided up the stairs by Sweeney Todd's steady hand.