ST fic: Throwing the Bouquet (Sweeney/Lucy, Sweeney/Lovett, G, double drabbl-ish)
Title: Throwing the Bouquet
Author: shyaway
Rating: G
Pairing: Sweeney/Lucy, Sweeney/Lovett
Disclaimer: Not mine. Used without permission or remuneration but with as much love and respect as Sweeney has for his friends.
Summary: Sweeney buys flowers.
"Are you looking for something for a lady, sir?" the flower-seller inquired. When Sweeney acknowledged that it was so, the man leaned forward and said confidentially, "Mrs Lovett likes them camellias."
Ignoring him (but resentfully conscious of the implication - just what had the woman been telling people?), Sweeney looked over the offerings on the cart. Ornate camellia, overly-frilled carnations, tulips that were almost obscene in their fleshiness... There were no daisies and it was the wrong time of year for daffodils. If not for that, Lucy would have had them in her wedding bouquet. He chose yellow roses instead; they weren't to be held, the thorns wouldn't scratch.
It was a warm June evening and Mrs Lovett was still outside wiping down the tables when he got back. When she saw what he was carrying, she beamed at him. "Ooh, Mr Todd, are they for me? How thoughtful!" She already had her hand around the wrapped stems and was sniffing the blooms before he could answer.
"It's my wedding anniversary."
Her smile faltered and disappeared.
"You can put them in water, if you like." (Sometimes, it was as satisfying to twist an invisible knife as a real one.)
She took them inside without another word.
When she brought the vase upstairs ten minutes later, he saw with some detached surprise that she had arranged them as carefully as ever she did the flowers she bought for him; less, that there was one missing.
She thought he should be grateful she had restricted herself to shredding just one of them.
Author: shyaway
Rating: G
Pairing: Sweeney/Lucy, Sweeney/Lovett
Disclaimer: Not mine. Used without permission or remuneration but with as much love and respect as Sweeney has for his friends.
Summary: Sweeney buys flowers.
"Are you looking for something for a lady, sir?" the flower-seller inquired. When Sweeney acknowledged that it was so, the man leaned forward and said confidentially, "Mrs Lovett likes them camellias."
Ignoring him (but resentfully conscious of the implication - just what had the woman been telling people?), Sweeney looked over the offerings on the cart. Ornate camellia, overly-frilled carnations, tulips that were almost obscene in their fleshiness... There were no daisies and it was the wrong time of year for daffodils. If not for that, Lucy would have had them in her wedding bouquet. He chose yellow roses instead; they weren't to be held, the thorns wouldn't scratch.
It was a warm June evening and Mrs Lovett was still outside wiping down the tables when he got back. When she saw what he was carrying, she beamed at him. "Ooh, Mr Todd, are they for me? How thoughtful!" She already had her hand around the wrapped stems and was sniffing the blooms before he could answer.
"It's my wedding anniversary."
Her smile faltered and disappeared.
"You can put them in water, if you like." (Sometimes, it was as satisfying to twist an invisible knife as a real one.)
She took them inside without another word.
When she brought the vase upstairs ten minutes later, he saw with some detached surprise that she had arranged them as carefully as ever she did the flowers she bought for him; less, that there was one missing.
She thought he should be grateful she had restricted herself to shredding just one of them.