A/N: Thank you, thank you, thank you for following along thus far! Thanks especially to thelovelyflorencelovett and Paperclip-Assassin for their kind words. The plot bunnies have decreed that you all shall have another installment of dark fluff, and there is more yet to come! :3 Please remember that you all are beautiful (or handsome, as the case may be) and your rubies are far too precious to spill. Alright, on with the show!
Mrs. Lovett woke while it was still dark. She closed her eyes, savoring Mr. Todd's warmth just a little while longer, then attempted to slip out of his arms. His arms tightened, and his hands locked across her stomach like the buckle of a belt.
The demon barber's disheveled mane tickled her jawline and cheek as his voice, raspy with lack of sleep, growled into her ear. "What are you doing?"
His question took her by surprise. Naturally, she responded with sarcasm. "Getting up, if that's alright with you."
"That depends."
He squeezed her closer, making it pleasantly difficult for her to breathe. Now she was annoyed. Couldn't the bloody man ever speak straight?
"Wot do you mean, 'It depends'? I got a bloody business to run, and I need to get ready for the day."
The mattress creaked as he sat up, drawing her up alongside him. Mrs. Lovett turned in his arms and peered into his face. Reading the intention in his eyes, the baker shook her head. "No. Yer not coming with me."
He leaned close enough for his stubble to scrape against her nose. "Why not?"
Her reply came out a little shaky, distorted from the butterflies that were colliding against the walls of her throat and stomach. How could he flip her brain like a flapjack just by talking? "Well, I wanna start by freshenin' up in me bathroom."
His stare didn't soften even a tiny bit with embarrassment. He raised one black eyebrow, silently asking and…?
"And I want some privacy," she finished, answering his unspoken question as her cheeks grew hot.
His lip twitched. "Don't tell me you're shy."
She shoved him in the chest, feeling her face sear. "I want a minute to meself, Mister T. Are you gonna move or not?"
"That depends."
The urge to plant her fist upside his head intensified. "And wot's that supposed to mean?" She attempted to fold her arms, but his grip was too snug.
"I'm not overly eager to leave you alone in your own head."
Mrs. Lovett felt the warmth spread to her chest and pool pleasurably there. She reached up and brushed a frizzled lock away from his left eye. "That's awful sweet of you, love, but I'll be fine." She pinched his cheek. "I think I ken 'andle bein' on me own for 'alf an hour."
Her barber stared back at her, unconvinced. She tried on a smile but it felt like old candle wax. Sweeney's eyes didn't move from her own. She watched uncertainty enter his countenance. His jaw worked twice and then stilled. He looked like a man struggling to remember a phrase in a foreign language that he has learned long ago and very nearly forgotten. When he spoke, it was so soft that she held her breath to catch his words.
"Do you want to be left alone?"
His interest in her opinion surprised the tiny redhead so much that she blurted out an honest reply before she could steel herself for yet another lie. "Nah."
One of Sweeney's hands broke away from its twin and gripped her hand. His strong fingers found her calluses and didn't flinch, even involuntarily. He stood, and she followed him into the loo. * * *
As the last of her clothing slid whispering to the floor, Mrs. Lovett's hands instinctively rose to cup her vulnerability. No, not her breasts- he could look at them all he liked. Her fingers rose and spread protectively over cooling pinkish lines and raised white seams that were mapped across her arms' flesh with terrible precision. There were more inching up from her ankles to mid-calf like some sort of all-natural stockings.
A few burns puckered the very bottom of her tiny belly, witnesses to the occasions where she'd gotten too close to the oven and then lingered. She shivered under the weight of Sweeney's eyes as they traveled unmercifully over her shame, not missing a single detail.
A corner of her brain registered water running into the tub. The rest was consumed by the impulse to shield herself and step back into the familiar distance that he'd always kept between them. Her enormous eyes burned acidically, and she savagely blinked back the beginnings of myopia.
The baker was aware of more clothes settling on the floor, then of hands settling gently but firmly on her bare shoulders. Nellie closed her eyes and let go of her control. His hands guided her down into the bathwater's warm embrace, and his arms were there to hold her once she got there.
A soapy cloth slid down her spine. Nellie Lovett shivered again. The trembling translated to tears as she felt his lips descend upon the first scar. From there he kissed his way up her arm, gentle and lingering, not flinching from the stitches and newly crusted rubies. His lips trailed acceptance across her skin, not once hesitating or faltering, gentler than the touch of the soap.
As she turned her face into his shoulder, the tiny baker caught his dark eyes. They were fierce, burning with a controlled blaze direct from hell. It was an expression that he wore in those rare instants when his guard was down, usually when he was speaking of Johanna. It was protectiveness, terrible in its beauty. Mrs. Lovett held Sweeney Todd tightly and let herself get lost in his acceptance. * * *
If Sweeney had thought that Toby's earlier look was horrible, this latest one made it pale in comparison. The barber ignored the boy, and concentrated on the task at hand. Breakfast was long over and both shops were due to open, but he was not yet finished.
His baker squirmed, and he replaced the teeth of the comb with three of his fingers. The trio effortlessly teased this thousandth snarl apart, and he was free to proceed. He felt her skin responding to his touch, and he absently stroked the nape of her pale neck as his work drew to an end at last.
Sweeney drew the ribbon from between his teeth and gathered Mrs. Lovett's curls. He made the curls into a snake and wound the snake into a bun. As he was tying up the bun, a customer entered the shop.
"Come back later," Sweeney told him, without looking up or offering a word of explanation.
The man sputtered, stammered an apology, and retreated.
Mrs. Lovett smacked his shoulder. "Mister T!"
He was still concentrating on her hair. "Hm?"
"'S runnin' off business, that is!"
"He'll be back." The ribbon was secured to perfection. He allowed his hands to rest at the base of her perfect neck. "'Sides, it isn't as if you can't afford to lose one verm-"
"'HEM!" She cleared her throat theatrically, shooting a glance in Toby's direction. "Well, we've loads of work to do…"
Toby twitched and stepped into action. "Right, Mum." His eyes locked onto Sweeney's and did their best to burn the flesh away from his skull before the boy retreated to the kitchen.
Mrs. Lovett ran an admiring hand over the top of her flawless hair, turned, and caught Sweeney's lips in a kiss. The demon barber deepened the gesture, silently telling her everything that he hoped the bath had gotten through her thick skull. My beautiful Nellie. Mine. Let your rubies be, pet. And for God's sake don't let the world snuff out your spark.
He was never further than a shadow-length from her for the entirety of the work day.
(Well, I'll leave the interpretation of the 'acceptance' to you. Should you choose to drop a review and want to state your own theory, you are more than welcome to. Thanks for reading! See you soonish.)