DISCLAIMER: Sweeney Todd belongs to Stephen Sondheim. Petshop of Horrors belongs to Matsuri Hino.

-- Omega Sigil --

There was not only one shop in Fleet Street whose customers tended to disappear. There was Sweeney Todd's Tonsorial Parlor, of course. But he chose carefully, and no one suspected. And even when they did suspect, they didn't suspect HIM.

Because there was another shop in Fleet Street, one whose customers sometimes turned up dead, their mangled rotting bodies found in their homes or gardens...

There was a pet shop, by the simple name of Count D's.

Toby was getting more and more suspicious of Sweeney Todd. He wanted to find a way to protect his dear mum from the barber, but he knew she wouldn't listen to him if he spoke against the man because for some reason the boy couldn't fathom, she trusted the man beyond all reason.

So Toby figured out a different plan. He waited until a day when the pie shop was closed.

"Mum, come with me please, there's somewhere I want to go," Toby pleaded, giving Mrs. Lovett his best puppy-dog eyes.

"Well, alright then," she agreed, wondering what the poor boy could possibly want so badly.

She was surprised when they only walked a short way down the street to a small shop. She hesitated, but Toby pushed open the door and walked right in, so she had no choice but to follow.

The shop was full of cages, and many cats and dogs wandered free around the room, some lounging on the plush furniture or richly embroidered carpeting. The air was heavily perfumed. Some kind of incense? Whoever owned this place must be unbelievably wealthy.

"Good evening."

Mrs. Lovett's head snapped up at the sound of the voice.

"I am Count D, the proprieter of this shop."

Count D, as he called himself, was a tall slim foreigner (Asian? Chinese? She couldn't tell exactly, she wasn't an expert at identifying someone's nationality.) with long silky black hair that fell to his waist. He was dressed in oriental-style clothing.

"Were you looking for a specific kind of pet?" the count asked smoothly. He gave Toby a knowing look. "A companion for the lady, perhaps?"

Toby, amazed by the count's insight, merely nodded.

"We have many lovely pets to choose from," the count said, gesturing vaguely toward the birdcages that lined the room, the couches full of sleek cats and fussy little dogs.

"Not one of those, something strong, something that will protect her..." Toby explained quietly to the pet shop proprieter. The boy didn't want Mrs. Lovett to know that he was doing this to protect her from Sweeney, so he thought it was better if she didn't hear his reason for wanting a pet, or she might refuse to bring one home with them at all.

The count looked Mrs. Lovett over again. He'd barely glanced at her before, but now that the boy mentioned what kind of pet they were after, he decided to take a closer look, to see what kind of pet they really needed...

"Ah, yes. I have the perfect pet for you... It's a rare one that can't be displayed in the front of the shop."

Toby and Mrs. Lovett followed Count D through a maze of passageways into a back room of the shop. They went into a room.

"Yes, here he is. The perfect pet for you."

Mrs. Lovett gasped. "That isn't an animal. It's a man!"

"No," Count D answered calmly. "I assure you, this is a pet." He waved his hand through the air, dispersing the effect of the incense, and they saw that a rather large shaggy gray doglike animal was standing where they had previously percieved the image of a man. "He is the omega of his pack, the runt male, the outcast, that is how I came to acquire him. His name is Sigil. He is a dire wolf. He is not tame, precisely, but he is well-trained and will be perfectly loyal to his owner."

Toby did not know what a dire wolf was, but he knew what a wolf was, and was satisfied that this would prove an adequate protector.

Mrs. Lovett, on the other hand, knew exactly what a dire wolf was.

"We'll take him," she said.

"Then, if you'd just sign the contract please, madame... and please remember to make sure he is fed daily."

"Oh, you don't need to worry about that, Count," Mrs. Lovett replied with a smile.

-end-

A/N: Yes, the D in this fic is the longhaired D, the one who is the father of the main character in Petshop of Horrors. Because Victorian England was before the current D's time.

A/N: And for those who don't know, dire wolves eat corpses. So now she has a way to dispose of the unused body parts, which is why he's a perfect pet.