"Stupid man!" Mrs. Lovett huffed as she stomped back into her pie shop, resenting the cheerful tinkling the bell made.

"I could bloody well go up in me undergarments to give 'im 'is dinner and 'e still wouldn't notice a bloody thing! 'E just stares out that bloody window all bloody day. I may as bloody well be invisible."

For several days, she had been dropping more hints than usual, leaning over unnecessarily, and generally throwing herself at him and he hadn't even so much as batted an eye.

Fuming, she attempted to clean up the shop but only succeeded in creating a bigger mess. "Bugger" she muttered, surveying her work.

"I might as well start with the tables outside, then, before it gets too dark," she sighed, marching dutifully to work, still clad in the outfit she had donned to seduce Mr. Todd.

As she bent over the tables, scrubbing them clean, she could feel someone watching her. Hungrily, if she wasn't mistaken.

So he has noticed, she thought, thoroughly pleased with herself. She made sure her backside swayed as she scrubbed.

Her chest heaving from cleaning and trying to appear seductive all at once, she turned to make a sassy-but still flirtatious- comment to Mr. Todd, sure her heaving chest wouldn't hurt her case.

"Oh!" Mrs. Lovett started, surprised. "Beadle Bamford! Can I do anything for you?" She began wishing she had changed as she noticed the beadle's eyes were clouded over with lust and had yet to stray from her breasts, which still seemed to be fighting for freedom from her corset.

"I can think of several things," Beadle Bamford replied, trying to give her a seductive smile.

Mrs. Lovett attempted a smile as she backed towards the door and succeeded in backing into a table. "Well, it's getting' a bit late, don't ya think, sir? So, I think I';; just finish me cleaning inside before I retire to bed."

Beadle Bamford took a few steps forward, his eyes still trained on her chest- which, due to her increasing fright, was still heaving. "Do you need a hand, Mrs. Lovett? I'd be glad to do anything I can to- For. For you."

"No. No, that's alrigh'. I can manage jus' fine meself, thanks," Mrs. Lovett managed to scramble to the door, but, as she refused to turn her back to this man, she fumbled with the handle. "Did you want to see Mr. Todd about a shave, sir?"

"Well, that is why I dropped by. But, I've found something far more… Stimulating to spend my time on. Besides, I'm sure Mister Sweeney Todd has closed for the evening, anyway."

"No! Not for you, sir! I'm sure he'd be glad to take you now. I mean, you're Beadle Bamford!" She was sure her voice had climbed at least an octave. Why can't I get this bloody door open?!

Beadle Bamford took several steps forward, effectively closing the gap between them. "Really?" he asked, a predatory smirk on his face as he pinned her against the door with his much larger form. "Would you be glad to 'take me now,' since I'm Beadle Bamford?"

His breath was hot on her face as he pressed his erection against her. Her heart racing, she tried another tactic. Anything to steer the conversation from sexual euphemisms. "Oh? Did you-um- want a pie, sir? We're closed for the night, but if you give me a bit, I can whip one up righ' quick for ya."

"A pie, Mrs. Lovett? Ah, yes," he nodded. "A 'pie.' That's exactly what I'm after." His hand gripped hers on the doorknob and he easily opened the door causing Mrs. Lovett to stumble backwards and fall into a booth. Beadle Bamford closed the door behind himself. "Now… About that 'pie.'"

"I think you may 'ave misunderstood, Beadle Bamford. I meant an actual pie. And if I'm to whip one up for you, I may as well see if Mr. Todd is 'ungry as well," Mrs. Lovett darted for the door, but Beadle Bamford easily stepped in front of it again.

"No," the beadle shook his head. "I believe it is you who have misunderstood." He clucked his tongue, "soliciting the beadle? That can land you in bedlam, at the very least. We wouldn't want that, now would we? And if you're in bedlam, that puts Mister Sweeney Todd out on the streets, wouldn't it?" He advanced on her until she had fallen back into the booth.

"Are you threatening me, Beadle Bamford?" Mrs. Lovett asked, sounding far more courageous than she felt.

"You catch on quick. And if you behave, Mrs. Mooney may find herself without a permit to run her meatpie shop. And all those complaints about the neighbor's missing cats? Well, I, as the beadle, have to do something about that." Her false courage falling away, Mrs. Lovett stared back at the beadle's black eyes as tears formed in her own. "Now… I am, Beadle Bamford. So, you'd be glad to 'take me,' wouldn't you?" He stepped between her knees and stared down at her, smiling.

Mrs. Lovett forced a nod, "Of course, sir."

The beadle roughly pushed Mrs. Lovett into a lying position before sliding a hand up her thigh. "I don't for the life of me know why I waited so long." He extracted himself from his trousers before pushing Mrs. Lovett's skirt up past her stomach. "Let's get those breasts of yours out of their confinement, now."

Mrs. Lovett choked back a sob as she helped to remove her dress. "Please!" she begged. "Please? I'll do anything!"

"Good to know," the beadle smiled, before he entered her roughly. "Tell me how powerful I am."

"You're so powerful, Beadle Bamford," Mrs. Lovett parroted back between silent sobs. "You control everyone and everything."

"Especially you, right?" the beadle panted before nipping at one of her breasts.

She could barely breathe between her sobs as she tried desperately to not cry out, "Yes, especially me, sir."

His ragged nails scratched her shoulders as he continued to barrel into her. With one last grunt, he came hard inside of her.

"That's good," he said, pulling out of her. "Next time, see if you can be more enthused. Though, I am a bit of a speciman, so I suppose you just weren't ready. Next time, though."

"Next time?" Mrs. Lovett asked, trying to cover herself as best she could as the beadle pulled his trousers back on.

"Yes, Mrs. Lovett. Next time. I imagine there'll be many 'next times,' love," the beadle answered with a wink. "Same time tomorrow, then? Good."

And he left the shop without waiting for an answer.

Mrs. Lovett cried all the louder now that she was no longer afraid to anger her assailant. She didn't even make it out of the booth before crying herself to sleep.