I'd like to thank everyone who bothers to review my stories (I feel like a jerk for never saying that before

I'd like to thank everyone who bothers to review my stories (I feel like a jerk for never saying that before!). Seriously, when I see the number of reviews, it makes my day.

This chapter is long, because it's the conclusion. And it's actually more serious than the other chapters. Sort of. Okay, it's still silly. But it's a little less silly.

Sweeney Todd stood in his doorway. He blinked madly, trying to get the water out of his eyes. Or perhaps he was blinking because he was completely dumbfounded.

He felt strangely perplexed. Well, not all that strangely. Anyone would be perplexed if their landlady suddenly accosted them with a pail of water. He thought he could understand why she had accosted him with said pail of water—after all, who understood revenge tactics better than Sweeney Todd?—but he couldn't believe that she had the nerve to do so.

Her amount of gall was…surprising. And appealing.

Oh, he was angry—who wouldn't be angry?—but he was still, somehow…excited.

The evening was turning out to be more interesting than he had thought possible.

Mrs. Lovett had run away from him. She was no fool—when Sweeney Todd was quiet for too long, it made her nervous (not that she wasn't nervous when he did talk). Of course, this meant she was nervous all the time, but she had grown used to it.

He had just blinked at her, not saying anything. But he had looked so angry when she had first thrown the water…

She was wringing her skirts out in front of her shop. People were staring at her. And while Mrs. Lovett did enjoy being the center of attention, she wasn't comfortable because of why they were staring.

They probably thought she was a prostitute (and who could blame them, what with how her clothes looked?).

She tried to ignore the passersby, but it was difficult.

Especially when one touched her.

"Hey, there," a voice said, and she turned, half expecting it to be Sweeney Todd with a razor. But it wasn't—it was a different man. He looked slightly younger than Mrs. Lovett, with reddish hair and freckly skin. He was well dressed.

But despite his appearance—which left him looking somewhat innocent—Mrs. Lovett was a bit nervous in his presence, as his hand was caressing the (wet) small of her back.

"Can I help you? Oh," she added, "please take your hand off of me."

The man's face, so jovial at first, now contorted. He looked positively fiendish. Mrs. Lovett shivered. "Actually," the man said, the smile returning to his face, "I think you could help me."

"With what?" She crossed her arms over her chest, trying to hide herself. His eyes strayed from her face to her bare feet before resting on her arms.

"Something only a woman can help with," he said, and Mrs. Lovett nearly gagged at the phrase.

He reached out for her hand, but she turned away from him. The fiendish look returned to his face. Mrs. Lovett was frightened (this surprised her. After all, she was living with someone who could kill her at any time. But this was different.), for she was no fool. She knew what men were like.

The red haired man reached for her hand again. She turned away from him. As his face contorted with rage and he opened his mouth to say something, to scream at her, an arm snaked around her shoulder, pulling her close to a very, very wet someone.

She looked up to see Sweeney Todd smiling—though his face was so unaccustomed to smiling that he looked like he was in pain—at the red haired man. "D-Darling," he choked, and Mrs. Lovett rolled her eyes. Was this really so difficult for him? "Where have you been? I've been searching all around the house for you…"

The red haired man looked taken aback, though Mrs. Lovett wondered if they actually seemed like a real couple. Mr. Todd sounded as though he was being tortured. She was squished against him so closely that she could smell him clearly. His scent was a mixture of soap and water (if water could be described as having a scent), but underneath that she could still smell HIM—the torture he had faced in Australia. The pain of losing Lucy. The anger. The revenge. He smelled of blood and sweat, and while the smell sounded revolting when she put it that way, it wasn't really. It was intoxicating and lovely.

Mrs. Lovett felt a blush run over her face as she realized how strange they looked—soaking wet, with their arms around each other. Gossip would be starting up in no time at all.

"Play along," he whispered violently but quietly in her ear, interrupting her reverie.

Mrs. Lovett smiled up at him and he looked shocked at how convincing she could be. "Oh, dearest, I was just wringing out my dress when this gentleman asked for my services…" the red haired man paled as Sweeney Todd looked at him with murder in his gaze. Mrs. Lovett tried to divert the situation from getting violent. "You know, we have got to get new faucets, the old ones don't hardly work anymore…"

Todd looked down at her, confused. Then a smile lit his gaze once again. "Too right, dear, too right. Well, perhaps we should go change out of these wet clothes?"

Mrs. Lovett nodded and the two of them stepped lightly inside the pie shop, leaving the red haired man in the street.

Upon entering the shop, Todd released Mrs. Lovett quickly, as though it hurt to touch her. They refused to look at each other.

Mrs. Lovett was red and flustered. She knew she should say something—a thank you, perhaps. But she also knew that he had probably only come downstairs to berate her for soaking him, so a thank you wasn't' really in order.

She couldn't smell his scent anymore. It stuck to him, never wafting about like women's scents. It was elusive, much like his kindness.

"Mrs. Lovett." He said it suddenly, and she jumped.

"Yes, Mr. T?"

He was very close to her suddenly. He took her by the shoulders and spun her around. She was shocked, thinking he might…well, she didn't know. She could see his body through his wet shirt and she grew even redder. Oh, not this again, she thought.

He looked at her very seriously before knocking his forehead against her own.

"Ow!" She exclaimed. She broke away from him, massaging her head. "Ow, Mr. T! What was that about?"

He looked at her, not really angrily, but as though he found her amusing. "For this," he said, indicating his wet clothes, "and because you were stupid enough to go out looking like that—" he indicated her chest and she blushed even darker "—at night."

Mrs. Lovett covered herself again. He rolled his eyes. "Mrs. Lovett, I'm going upstairs."

She blinked at him. "That's all?" She said incredulously. He looked at her as though she was from a different planet. "Yes, that's all. Why?"

Mrs. Lovett shook her head. She had been expecting more anger, but she wasn't disappointed or anything. Why would she be? After all, he'd put his arm around her and called her "darling"…and though she could still feel a slight pain in her forehead, she wasn't dead!

"You should change out of your wet clothes," she called as he was leaving. He ignored her, as usual, but she didn't really care. After all, she was his "darling"… She was so happy about his touching her that she putzed around, not changing out of her wet clothes.

Mr. Todd was satisfied. No, he wasn't satisfied completely. He wouldn't be satisfied completely until the Judge was dead. Maybe even that wouldn't satisfy him. But he had touched Mrs. Lovett. He'd put his arm around her, and he'd punished her for soaking him (twice), so he no longer felt the urge to touch her.

And so he was happy.

He was determined to ignore her request that he change out of his wet clothes, though. He wouldn't give her the satisfaction of knowing he had listened to her.

For the next few days, Mrs. Lovett's Meat Pie Emporium and Sweeney Todd's Tonsorial Parlor were closed temporarily. The word on Fleet Street was that both of the owners had caught rotten colds.

Ha! I was thinking about Urusei Yatsura when I made Mr. Todd say "darling". That's pretty scary. Thanks again, everyone who reviews!