"Afraid I'll be needing another shirt washed, love." Sweeney Todd said to Mrs. Lovett, who was presently collapsed on the couch after a rather bust night in the pie shop.
"Again?" she sighed, and looked at his shirt – the right sleeve was covered in blood, "Can't you be a bit more careful with that, dearie? It's getting' awful tiring having to wash that every night."
She stood up and walked around him, "Oh well. At least it's not as red as the last one. Come on then, let's get that off."
Mrs. Lovett reached for the buttons on his vest but, much to her disappointment, Sweeney pushed her hand away and turned around, throwing the blood stained shirt on the ground. Mrs. Lovett bent down to pick up the shirt but was looking up the whole time in an attempt to get a glimpse of Mr. Todd's chest, "Well, you know, washin' clothes isn't THAT bad. I think I put your other shirt over there."
She gestured to the cupboard by her chair. Sweeney looked in the drawer and didn't find anything other than a few of Mrs. Lovett's cheap, broken trinkets. He did, however, notice her eyes fixed on his bare chest as he walked across the room. "Alright, you've had your fun, where is it?"
"Why don't you go lookin' for it? I know I put it somewhere in here…" Mrs. Lovett said, smiling slightly, her arms crossed over her chest.
"I'm not in the mood for this right now," Sweeney growled, "I've got business you know. A lot of blood to get off of that window."
Mrs. Lovett rolled her eyes and took out a shirt from under the couch cushions, tossing it at him, "Alright, you gloomy thing, go wash that damn blood off."
He put the shirt on and began to walk back up the stairs, ignoring Mrs. Lovett's unsatisfied mumbling as she paced around the room until something caught his attention.
"…always with the throat slitting, really now someone'll have to wonder where all the men are going…"
He walked back down the stares and looked at her with that slightly twisted smile that made Mrs. Lovett just a tad uncomfortable (and more than a tad aroused) and said "You know, Antony had some…art, of women from exotic places. Not much really, just a few scraps, but-"
"The sailor boy?" she said, wondering what in the Hell Mr. T was going on about now, "He seemed nice enough. Polite."
"Come on, now. He's young and stuck on that ship with only men around the boy was horny as a rabbit in springtime. I thank him for saving me but it was rather uncomfortable sharing a living quarters with him." Sweeney trailed off, not eager to talk about Antony's private habits, "Now as I was saying, in other places so I've heard…the women there – the privileged ones with nothing better to do with their time – shave as well. Their legs, I mean."
Mrs. Lovett bit her lip, "…as much as I like where you're goin' with this Mr. Todd I must admit I'm a little nervous at bein' anywhere near one of those razors of yours."
"Oh, come on, Mrs. Lovett. You can trust me." He said, with a smile that just screamed that he was anything but trustworthy, "I wouldn't want to off my pie maker, now. What other person am I goin' to convince to do what you do?"
She thought about it for a few seconds before smiling and latching onto his arm, "Well when you put it that way I suppose it couldn't do any harm."
She eagerly hurried upstairs, dragging Sweeney behind her, and sat down in the chair, giddy as could be. She lifted her left leg up for him to examine, getting a less than pleasant reaction as Sweeney pushed her dress aside. "Mrs. Lovett, once I'm done with this, I think my floor shall have a new carpet. Really. This might take a while."
Though she certainly wasn't flattered by his commentary, the thought of her object of affection getting that close to her allowed her to ignore the insults. "Take as long as you like, love." She said happily. Sweeney looked a bit less than happy, for the moment.
"If I'd have known there was an entire forest down here…" he was cut off by Mrs. Lovett giving him a slight smack on the head. He looked up at her, and she looked back down at him, pretending to be innocent.
He grumbled to himself and began spreading the shaving cream over her legs, ignoring Mrs. Lovett's obvious arousal at the situation. Soon, he'd have his. He started below her knee and shaved downwards, looking up once in a while and pretending to smile. Every now and then he'd give her leg a slight stroke to make sure he was doing the job correctly – and whenever he did she'd let out a slight moan and then look away, pretending she wanted to hide her arousal.
As Mr. Todd moved farther up her thigh she soon cringed in pain as she felt the razor make a slight cut on the outside of her leg. She pulled away from the razor. "What are you doing, Mr. T?"
"Just a little mistake. I'm not used to shaving legs, you know. I'm sorry, I assure you." He smiled up at her.
He wasn't sorry.
He wiped off the trickle of blood going down her leg and though the sight of Mrs. Lovett's blood excited him he didn't dare do anything more for now. He still had the second leg to do, after all, he couldn't have Mrs. Lovett deciding that she didn't want a shave anymore just yet.
He was careful to be as gentle as he possibly could while shaving the other leg, placing his other hand over the cut he'd already made as if he was trying to heal her. But when he got to her other thigh she once again jumped in pain.
She sighed and bit down on her lip, trying not to concentrate on the pain. So much for the best barber in London, he was quite clumsy tonight. Maybe all that throat slitting had somehow diminished his skill in giving an actual nice, clean shave. But when she felt another cut, and another, she looked down to see if something was up and it was quite clear that Sweeney was doing this on purpose.
:Oh, Mrs. Lovett, I'm afraid I'm just too clumsy today!" he said, smiling with such intensity that she was sure he would stab her in the neck at any moment and dump her down into the basement with the rest of his victims.
"Mr. Todd, you can't be serious-" she said, yelping out in pain as Sweeney made one final, deeper cut in her thigh. None of them were deep enough to cause any severe damage other then perhaps some slight scarring, but she still struggled to get away.
He held her down and lifted the razor up, the crazed look still on his face. She leaned back, her knuckles white as she gripped the chair harder than she ever had, her nails digging in. He stared at the razor, covered in her blood, and she looked away and closed her eyes expecting him to slit her throat at any moment – but no more pain came. She looked down at him.
Sweeney was still staring at the bloodied razor, leaning closer in and then –
He licked it. He licked the flat side clean before running his fingers down Mrs. Lovett's bloodied thigh and licking that off, too. He then leaned right in between her legs and started to lick the blood right off himself. Despite the stinging pain she felt as his tongue ran up and down her thigh, irritating the cuts, she had to admit she was quite turned on.
It was probably the closest to any type of intimacy she'd ever get with Mr. Todd and, well, it was worth a little bit of pain.
"There we go. Nice…clean shave." Mr. Todd stood up, wiping the excess blood off on his sleeve. Suddenly returning to his usual, cold expression the only thing he said to her was "Looks like you're going to have to wash this shirt, too." Before he walked back downstairs, wet razor still in hand.
Mrs. Lovett stood up slowly, trying to ignore the stinging cuts. "It'll be a rough night tonight…" she said to herself, slowly walking down the stairs. She paused halfway down and sighed.
"Oh, Mr. T, can't be into anything a little less painful, can you?"
…but she had to admit that she'd do it again.