Fanfic 100 - 021, Friends.
Jun. 26th, 2007 07:51 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dolevalanTitle: I Would Never
Fandom: Sweeney Todd
Characters: Tobias, Beggar Woman
Prompt: 021, Friends
Word Count: 499
Rating: G
Summary: Everyone has their own little secret.
Author's Notes: I am so dreadfully out of practice.
It was the one thing he hid. He know he said nothing, and he meant it, he did. If she ever asked, he wouldn’t lie. But he wasn’t going to volunteer anything either. Toby didn’t see the point.
After all, Mrs. Lovett’s hate for the poor old beggar woman was almost as silly as the way she doted on Mr. Todd. She was just crazy, and poor, but that was nothing to be afraid of. Toby knew what being poor was like, and he could see her, now and then, know what she was. The madness came and went, like tides coming in and out. And it was no reason to be starved.
She never took the pies. Always shook her head and made a shaky sign of protection from the evil eye. But bread, and the occasional bit of cheese, those she took right gladly. She’d smile, and call him “sir” (no one called Toby “sir,” not ever, even the people who were kind to him) and nibble on them like a little bird. He’d sit and sometimes would sing a little song, and she’d smile and hum too.
And Mrs. Lovett was so kind and good to him that he felt a little bit bad, sneaking food to the old beggar woman. But on the other hand, she didn’t know, and it didn’t hurt anything. And it made Toby feel important, like a grand gentleman.
And she smiled like his mother had, the few times he remembered his mother smiling before she’d died. She was sad, but somehow pretty, when she smiled. Prettier for the sadness, in some ways. Odd, but true.
One day, she turned to him and said, clear as glass, “You shouldn’t eat the pies, sir. They’re not savory.”
He blinked, surprised. “Not savory, mum?”
“No. You should leave be. The pies aren’t good.”
“Oh, mum, if you’d tried one, you’d know different. They’re the best –”
She cut him off. “Sir, sir. Please. Don’t eat any more of them pies. For my poor sake and yours.”
He nodded, slowly, as not to startle her. “Okay, mum. If you say so.” He had no intention of keeping his word, but the lie was to soothe, and not to hurt. It would be fine, he told himself.
“Good. Good. It’s best. She’s the devil’s wife, she… she…” And she hummed to herself, the snatch of a little tune. She was gone again.
“There, there, mum. It’s alright.” He patted her hand. Poor woman. If she’d held her wits together, more than two at a time, she might have had a chance at making something of herself. But she’d gone back to pecking at her crust of bread, and it wouldn’t be long until Mrs. Lovett called for him. He’d come running, as always, but for now, he had this one little thing that was somehow his to give, instead of receive. And she was an odd little bird, but then, he thought, so was he.
Fandom: Sweeney Todd
Characters: Tobias, Beggar Woman
Prompt: 021, Friends
Word Count: 499
Rating: G
Summary: Everyone has their own little secret.
Author's Notes: I am so dreadfully out of practice.
It was the one thing he hid. He know he said nothing, and he meant it, he did. If she ever asked, he wouldn’t lie. But he wasn’t going to volunteer anything either. Toby didn’t see the point.
After all, Mrs. Lovett’s hate for the poor old beggar woman was almost as silly as the way she doted on Mr. Todd. She was just crazy, and poor, but that was nothing to be afraid of. Toby knew what being poor was like, and he could see her, now and then, know what she was. The madness came and went, like tides coming in and out. And it was no reason to be starved.
She never took the pies. Always shook her head and made a shaky sign of protection from the evil eye. But bread, and the occasional bit of cheese, those she took right gladly. She’d smile, and call him “sir” (no one called Toby “sir,” not ever, even the people who were kind to him) and nibble on them like a little bird. He’d sit and sometimes would sing a little song, and she’d smile and hum too.
And Mrs. Lovett was so kind and good to him that he felt a little bit bad, sneaking food to the old beggar woman. But on the other hand, she didn’t know, and it didn’t hurt anything. And it made Toby feel important, like a grand gentleman.
And she smiled like his mother had, the few times he remembered his mother smiling before she’d died. She was sad, but somehow pretty, when she smiled. Prettier for the sadness, in some ways. Odd, but true.
One day, she turned to him and said, clear as glass, “You shouldn’t eat the pies, sir. They’re not savory.”
He blinked, surprised. “Not savory, mum?”
“No. You should leave be. The pies aren’t good.”
“Oh, mum, if you’d tried one, you’d know different. They’re the best –”
She cut him off. “Sir, sir. Please. Don’t eat any more of them pies. For my poor sake and yours.”
He nodded, slowly, as not to startle her. “Okay, mum. If you say so.” He had no intention of keeping his word, but the lie was to soothe, and not to hurt. It would be fine, he told himself.
“Good. Good. It’s best. She’s the devil’s wife, she… she…” And she hummed to herself, the snatch of a little tune. She was gone again.
“There, there, mum. It’s alright.” He patted her hand. Poor woman. If she’d held her wits together, more than two at a time, she might have had a chance at making something of herself. But she’d gone back to pecking at her crust of bread, and it wouldn’t be long until Mrs. Lovett called for him. He’d come running, as always, but for now, he had this one little thing that was somehow his to give, instead of receive. And she was an odd little bird, but then, he thought, so was he.
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Date: 2007-06-26 01:40 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-06-26 08:21 pm (UTC)Ah! That line is perfect. This is absolutely, infectiously adorable, and wonderfully in character for the two of them. I like this idea of the slightly-rebellious Toby, because he has so much sympathy for EVERYONE. You wouldn't expect these two to interact, but you make it make sense.