A/N Um.. wow. I have gotten so many reviews that if I get just as many as the last chapter, it will be the most I've ever gotten. And this is by no means the longest story I've ever written. Thank you, every one of you who reviewed, and told me you would like to see more fluff stories. There's going to be a little oneshot up this weekend (slightly different 'style' than this story) then come Monday I'll start posting another little thing like this. It has to do with hide and seek.. (which I believe is similar toa game called Sardines in England)

I'm a little iffy on this chapter.. but sadly enough, they aren't drunk anymore, so maybe that's the only reason. Once more, thank you all SO much! Onto the -sniffle- last chapter.


Nellie hated the sun. The light coming in from her window seemed to smother her face, pressing upon her eyelids rather than gently laying across them. Her head pounded with a fierce headache, and she nearly let out a hiss of pain. Her fingers curled, digging her nails into something cool. Not caring to see what it was, she pressed her head against it, hoping it would cure her of her nausea.

"That hurts." A voice said softly, sounding hoarse. A cool hand moved her nails.

Her eyes snapped open, sending a thousand blinding needles into her brain. Groaning, she turned lifted her head and squinted at the shape next to her.

"Mr. T?" She croaked.

Sweeney was lying in her bed, sheets down by his waist from her sitting up. One of his arms was draped across his face to block the sunlight, the other still held one of her hands.

They stared at one another.

Suddenly giving a shriek of surprise, Nellie grabbed the sheets around and pulled them up to her bare chest.

He gave a groan at her high pitched sound. "Don't do that." Having jerked herself away from his grasp in her made dash for cover, Sweeney used his now free hand to pull the covers up higher. Done with the task of keeping himself at least half covered, he began to fiddle with the sheets that were hastily pulled around her, as if thinking of removing them.

Feeling frightened, and a little worried about his unchastely nature, Nellie bit her lip. "You ain't mad Mr. T?" She was still scared, even though her heart seemed to skip a beat as she felt his fingers brush her thigh through the covers.

"I find it very hard to be anything with this headache." His wandering hand dropped back onto the bed.


"Oh indeed Mrs. Lovett, why did you bring out the gin last night?"

Feeling nauseous just standing on her knees, she lowered herself onto the bed once more, rearranging the sheets back around the both of them. "I didn't think you'd do it."

He let out a soft laugh. "That isn't what you said last night."

"You remember last night?" She grumbled.

"Vaguely. There were stairs."

Nellie frowned as she tried to sort through her foggy memories. "I pushed you."

"That wasn't very nice." His tone was bland, as if he honestly didn't care.

"I fell down too."

"It's what you deserved." She could hear laughter in his voice that time.

Nellie pouted, and, feeling adventurous, placed a hand on his chest. Much to her surprise he lowered his arm and took her hand.

"I won," Sweeney stated, bringing up her hand to his mouth so he could kiss it.

A distressing cry suddenly broke through the house, causing the bed's occupants to narrow their eyes as their headaches throbbed.

"Ya did luv, but Toby's the one who lost."

"So that was the last bottle we took on the way here."

"It was." Nellie rested her head against his shoulder, perfectly content to sleep off her hangover.

He should be more upset, Sweeney knew. But he found himself caring less and less about how he should be reacting and how he was. After all, when he had still been sober he had planned on kissing her. Then it wasn't necessarily because he secretly desire to do so, but because he thought it would be fun to taunt her. Though, it seemed alcohol had some secret component in it, that when consumed in abundance could change your views. Or maybe that was just being drunk. He hardly cared though, and at the moment he was perfectly content to stroke Nellie's hair as she went back to sleep. She had spent quite a bit of drunken time messing up his, making him wonder what she found so fascinating about it.

Sweeney let out a long sigh, he shouldn't be doing this much thinking with such a terrible hang over. His eyes slowly drifted close, and he felt his own breathing matching starting to match Nellie's.

Then Toby knocked ever so loudly on the door before poking his head in. "Mum, it's nearing' noon, an' I know s'Sunday an' all but…"

Sweeney wanted to yell at the boy for disturbing him, but the shocked look on his face was enough to make up for it. He continued to stroke the baker's hair as she snuggled closer to his chest, disturbed by the sound of Toby's entrance.

"The gin's gone, isn't it?" Sweeney said, fully enjoying the place he was in. "Once we're up I'm sure we'll go to market and get some more."

The games Mrs. Lovett come up with will no doubt be better with it, than without.