Author's Note: I realize that my stories are short at times, but realize these one shots come from a quick idea that pops into my head when I'm taking time out of homework and such. Oh, what a Sweeney thing--"But you know me, bright ideas just pop into me head, and I keep thinking!"--if you've seen the musical, I'm pretty sure you know what I'm talking about. Regardless, like my previous fic, this is a universal Sweeney fic and can be perceived as LuPone/Hearn, LuPone/Ceveris, or Depp/Carter. Please review if you read the fic, for it gives me more motivation to continue incomplete fics and to write more one shots such as this. Enjoy.

It was a rare occurrence when Mrs. Lovett dreamed, but when she did, it was always of the most vivid quality. Vibrant colors would flash before her dreaming eyes, entrancing her in a way the dark pallet of the world could not. The sun would cast silhouettes on the smoky green grass in which she lay, feeling the cool dew beneath her fingers. She would lay with her head in his lap, and he would hold her with a feeling of want and love that he had never given her when she returned from her slumber. He would be reading, his eyes moving rapidly across the pages, and she would stare, memorizing the contours and importances of his face. His eyes were a stabbing gray in reality, but in her dreams, they were a soft amber, smiling down upon her with each glance.

He would put his book down and caress her warmly, and she would close her eyes, savoring each moment that he held her to him. She would bury her face in the nape of his neck, resting her weight against him as his arms wrapped around her small frame. He would kiss her forehead lovingly, sending shivers down her spine.

He would run his fingers through her curly red hair, and no matter how messy or hastily put up it was, he would claim that he loved it anyway—that she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. A blush would creep up on her face, and she would thank him, kissing him gently on his cheek in return.

They would lay in the grass for hours, staring up at the sky, examining the clouds and naming animals, shapes—anything that came to their mind. They would laugh—true, hardy laughs—not the nervous giggles she expressed in reality around him, unable to think of words to say. No, in her dreams, everything flowed perfectly. There was no tension, there was no lack of works, only their long, drawn out conversations of moving to the sea, starting a family and living together in perfect unison.

It was incredibly painful for Nellie Lovett when she awoke each morning, realizing that she was one day further from achieving what constantly plagued her dreams. It was a goal she could never reach—a reward she could never have. It took everything in her power to face Sweeney every morning. She found herself playing nervously with her hands or biting her tongue in an attempt to keep her mouth shut—prevent herself from even mentioning such foolish ideas. She was tired of making a fool of herself by trying to warm up to him with not even a small bit of interest in return. She was too weak to stop, though, and she realized that until she had Mr. Todd by the sea, like her dreams, she would keep trying, and she would keep dreaming, no matter how heart wrenching it was.

It was always painful for Mrs. Lovett. In her dreams, Sweeney Todd—Benjamin Barker—loved her. In reality, it was a feeling he would never return. Mrs. Lovett counted on her dreams to keep her sanity—they were the only things left she could really count on.

Fin