Fandom: Sweeney Todd (musical-verse)
Villain: Mrs. Lovett
Theme: 1 (kittens)
Rating: PG or PG-13
Disclaimer: I don't know who owns Sweeney Todd, but it sure isn't me.
Summary: Mrs. Lovett wonders reflects on why the lost seem drawn to her...and on what happens when they've outlived their use.
A little wounded kitten couldn’t run very fast.
Mrs. Lovett sighed as it rubbed against her foot, meowing quietly. How had she somehow ended up as the mother hen to all the helpless in London? Benjamin, Toby, even that old hag who screamed about her being a witch still came along daily to beg for alms, as if she really thought Mrs. Lovett would change her mind one day.
She nudged the kitten away as she went back into her shop. It was still crying outside, and Toby seemed to be avoiding her eyes.
"Toby, I told you not to go feeding the cats. They’ll just keep coming back, and then where will we be?"
The boy blushed, and it occurred to Mrs. Lovett that his expression was exactly the same as the one on the kitten. Those pleading eyes, that way he tilted his head...though of course, she’d been happy to take him in. He filled a purpose, letting her have the son her own body had never allowed. How he saw it was a different matter, and for a boy of- how old was he again? Seventeen?- well, she sometimes wondered just what he meant by putting his head in her lap.
Looking outside, she saw the kitten hobbling along, dragging one wounded foot behind it. It was a chance she would have jumped at once, but these days she had more than enough meat for her wares. Let Mrs. Mooney get this one- sales for that woman had been so bad, she’d probably be forced to eat it herself.
She smiled at Toby as he washed her dishes. She really was fond of him, and enjoyed getting a bit of affection (which lord knew Mr. T seldom had.) It could only be hoped that he didn’t get too inquisitive.
After all, she wasn’t the type to kill a useless, wounded creature. But she would let others do it.