A/N: Second of the WTF game. Painful to re-read. Painful.

14. Awkward

Toby supposes that life now is as good as it's going to get. In truth, he is very content. He has his own little bedroom, a beautiful view of the sea, and some nice new friends who are fascinated with his anecdotes of London.

And then, of course, there is Charlie.

The puppy is frolicking in the garden, chasing the stick Toby has tossed as fast as his fat little legs will carry him, yapping excitedly all the while. Charlie is fast becoming Toby's closest companion, sleeping on the foot of his bed at night and shadowing his every move during the day. The young lad is glad he managed to persuade Mrs. Lovett to purchase the dog for him on their way to their new home. He suspects that Mr. Todd is not particularly fond of the creature—Toby has found him frequently snarling at the pup, lip curled to bare his teeth—but he doesn't care; it's nice to have a cohort who will follow him loyally, especially since he cannot trail behind Mrs. Lovett like he used to. Not when Mr. Todd is always there. Her husband.

Toby's own lip curls in distaste at the thought of his dear mum being married to the dark barber. She seems happy enough, however—she never stops singing now, and he's never seen her looking as well. Leaving London, she tells him, has done her wonders. Of course, it could have something to do with the fact that she is with child. Mrs. Lovett and Mr. Todd had married shortly after leaving London, stopping at the first church they'd come across and exchanging their vows. Toby privately thinks that the whole affair had been much less than his mum deserved—she hadn't even been wearing a wedding dress!—but Mrs. Lovett had expressed her delight afterwards by dropping thrilled kisses onto her new husband's pale cheeks at every opportunity posed to her.

A month later, she'd announced brightly to him that she was expecting Mr. Todd's child.

Toby still doesn't quite know what to think of this. He supposes that having a little brother will be fun—but not a sister because girls are annoying, snivelling things—as he can then teach him how to play football and can race him the length of the beach, but in the darkness of night, the dark notion that he will no longer belong often strangles him in its tight hold. Mrs. Lovett assures him that he will always be her son as much as her own child is, but he can't help but think that she will change her mind when she has a beautiful little baby as well as a scruffy street urchin.

Mr. Todd certainly wouldn't mind throwing him out on his ear, either.

Still, Toby pushes these thoughts out of his mind as Charlie retrieves the stick and brings it back to him, panting happily. It is a lovely day. He thinks that perhaps the puppy might like to take a walk on the beach. It amuses Toby to watch the dog whining at the waves when they wash over his tiny paws. Yes, that's what he'll do. He doesn't want to linger on unpleasant contemplations.

Without another thought, he turns on his heel and races into the house to tell Mrs. Lovett where he is going, Charlie by his side.

They have been married for three months now, and Sweeney has to reluctantly admit that life with Nellie Lovett isn't as bad as he once feared it would be. Once he'd completed his revenge against the judge, they'd sold both the tonsorial parlour and the pie shop, packed their bags and moved to the sea, just like in Mrs. Lovett's fantasies, all before the baby had thankfully started showing. They had been afraid that the judge's untimely disappearance would be linked back to them, and in any case, as Nellie had pointed out, London was no place to raise a child, not with the crimes which occurred there on a day-to-day basis. Toby, of course, had followed them here, all the way to the sea, none the wiser.

He is out in the little garden now. Sweeney can hear him playing with the puppy the boy coerced Mrs. Lovett into buying. Usually the dog is a nuisance as much as the boy, a yapping bundle of fur, but today he is grateful that it is there to distract the lad.

Sweeney is lying on the bed in the room he shares with Mrs. Lovett. The window is thrown open in the hope that a non-existent breeze will be tempted inside to dry the sweat cloaking his body. Mrs. Lovett herself is curled up at his side, her head pillowed on his shoulder, her eyes half-closed as she dozes in the afterglow.

Todd traces lazy patterns onto the swell of her stomach, where their child is nestled. Even now he's had time to get used to the notion, it still makes him heady to think that Sweeney Todd will become a father. He hadn't been pleased when she'd come to him all that time ago, eyes wild with turmoil, to tell him she was carrying his child. It had made him feel fury like nothing else to think that it would be interfering with his quest for vengeance. But the only thing he could've done was to marry Mrs. Lovett, and marry her he has, however reluctantly at the time. Now he's had time to think of it in more detail, he has a suspicion that it's almost like fate giving him another chance at life. He'll never be over Lucy. She will always hold the majority of his heart. But Mrs. Lovett—Mrs. Todd, now, he mentally corrects himself—has done a good job of worming her way into one small corner preserved only for her. It will never be love, but she has come to accept this, enjoying what she can have from him as best she can. Sometimes he feels sorry for her—it can't be easy, loving someone who doesn't return the emotion—but there is nothing he can do about it.

The sounds of Toby in the garden melt away as he shifts his body. Nellie jerks from the light slumber she'd fallen into, her head lolling onto the pillow beneath her as Sweeney rolls onto her again.

"Bloody 'ell," she mutters, even as she drops a kiss onto his shoulder. "Yer bloody insatiable, love. Dunno 'ow you still 'ave the stamina. I ain't as young as I used to be."

He only stares down at her. Her body is still as perfect as it had been all those years ago, the skin unblemished and creamy. Her waist is still slim, her breasts still high. Her face has the wasted beauty of a fallen angel, her eyes as dark as temptation itself. There are no words to describe how this makes him feel—he should hate that he was forced to become her husband, but somehow he doesn't, not anymore—so he settles instead for kissing her, letting her feel the non-too subtle heat of his arousal against her thigh. Nellie moans, her eyes fluttering closed, her hands darting down his sides to pull him flush against her, fired up once more despite having only finished their previous session of making love a little while ago.

Sweeney eases himself inside her, and she shudders as his hot tongue accosts the sensitive skin by her ear. They are so lost in a world of pleasure that neither of them hear the incessant barking as it comes closer, nor the pounding footsteps on the stairs. All that exists is the movement of their bodies, the fire burning in their bellies, the hunger for their satisfaction, until—

"Mum, Mum!"

The sound of Toby's voice and the door crashing open makes them freeze in the act. Nellie wrenches her mouth away from Sweeney's to peer, terrified, over his shoulder. The boy stands rooted in the doorway, eyes so large they are almost popping out of his head, his mouth open in horror. No one moves for several awkward moments.

"Oh," Toby mutters, swaying slightly on his feet. His face flames in embarrassment. He seems unable to form any more words. The uncomfortable silence stretches on. "Didn't realise you were…"

Then the boy's eyes roll into the back of his head, and he drops in a dead faint.

"Oh, dear God," Nellie groans, burying her face in Sweeney's shoulder, cheeks burning with mortification. "What possessed the foolish boy to come up 'ere?"

"Clearly he doesn't understand the meaning of 'stay outside, we're busy'," Sweeney growls, pulling himself out of his wife. With difficulty, he stands and makes his way over to the unconscious boy. He shoves him into the corridor, picks the pup up by the scruff of its neck and dumps it outside unceremoniously, then closes the door again. Nellie is sitting up, still looking humiliated at being caught in such a compromising position, but the embarrassment is quickly chased away when her husband returns to her side and continues what he'd started.