Synopsis: AU. With her husband exiled to Devil's Island and with the sinister Judge lusting for her, Nellie Barker does everything she can to protect her daughter and herself. When her husband returns ifteen years later, he finds there is nothing left of his wife and child. Curious as to why, he swings by an old friend and is told that his wife had died out of grief, taking their daughter along with her. Because of this, he is fueled with rage and vows to take revenge agaisnst the man who ruined his family and robbed fifteen years of his life.

A/N: To be honest, I'm not even sure whether to categorize this as a Ben/Nellie fic, or a Sweeney/Nellie fic. I mean, the Sweeney side of him's going to appear eventually. But then during the first parts, it's Benjamin so...gah! I'm so confused! -Sigh- I'll just leave it as Sweeney/Nellie for now. Don't know if I'll change it yet. BUUUUUT hey! Got the first chapter up for ya :D Hope you guys enjoy it! Oh yeah...I don't own Sweeney Todd. Got that? Okay...

I. Rumors

Nellie Barker, despite her loquacious nature around customers, never once believed the rumors that neighbors and friends spoke. She would listen to them and pretend to be interested, but never once had she ever believed them to be true. Stories such as the butcher Mr. Harper's affair with the old florists' wife from Seventy-six Drive never interested her; telltales of Miss Lakewood's newly-purchased estate, Mrs. Bordeaux's seventh marriage, or the librarian's new pearl earrings, she found quite trivial. Gossip was an everyday occurrence in London; it seemed it was the favorite past time of its inhabitants, for new ones were heard every day. Since the day she heard them, she hated hearing them. Much to her dismay, she had to learn to bear with it for the sake of her profession. After all, being a baker and shopkeeper not only required proficient baking skills, but great social skills as well. No matter how much she hated speaking of those rumors at least they were useful for something.

One of the rumors she heard going around was about the infamous Arnold Turpin, the judge who lived at Ranford Avenue. The man had a reputation of being a womanizer; a lecherous man willing to do anything to get his way. Many told that prior to his transfer to London, he had impregnated a number of young women, and helped them get husbands so that he wouldn't have to take care of them. Some also said that the man was a pure tyrant, sentencing even the most innocent of men either to death, or to banishment in order to seduce married women. When a woman refused to succumb, he would either order her dead, or send her to bedlam to rot away. The Judge was a wretched philanderer, to say the least—but she never believed that. Yet after what she had experienced only two days ago, she definitely wished she had.

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"Oh dear, I'm so sorry, mister! I really am. I should have—"

"Not at all, madam. I'm the one at fault," claimed the man as he helped her with her groceries, which had fallen to the ground when they had bumped into each other. She was already on her way home, when she had ran into the man. When she saw his face, she immediately recognized it and reconciled once more for her clumsiness.

"I'm really sorry, Judge Turpin, sir. I should have been more careful and watched where I was going," she told him.

"You needn't apologize; it was only an accident. I completely understand," he replied.

She wasn't sure if her eyes were deceiving her, but she was almost certain that this Judge was looking at her in the most inappropriate manner. The young baker did not like it one bit.

The Judge's lips curled upward into a furtive smile. At that moment, she felt her heart beat faster with apprehension but despite the feeling, she tried to keep herself composed.

"You're that baker from Fleet Street, am I correct? The current owner of the pie shop, Eleanor Lovett," he asked.

"Barker, sir. I'm married," she corrected.

"I see," he mused. "Barker, you say – you mean the son of the barber above your shop, that Benjamin Barker boy?" he added curiously.

"That would be him, sir," she confirmed with a slight nod. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have to come home and attend to my daughter."

He let out a laugh, appearing as though amused by the notion of having the son of her mother's tenant as her husband. The red-haired baker cursed herself mentally for showing manners; she should've walked away once she retrieved her belongings. Now she was feeling more uncomfortable than ever.

"Why, I had no idea you two would ever—never mind that, madam. I ask for your indulgence, for I seemed to have forgotten my manners at the moment."

"Of course, sir," she replied, hoping this conversation would end soon.

"Now Mrs. Barker, your pie emporium—I hear you serve some of the best pies in town."

"Why—that's quite gracious of you, my lord. But I wouldn't necessarily—"

"Mrs. Barker, no need to humble yourself!" he laughed. "I'd like to visit your shop sometime this week to try one of your famous pies. Maybe then we can talk since you seem to be in a hurry."

She wasted no time to get away from him at that moment. As soon as he finished that sentence, she tersely nodded and walked away as fast as she could. Great—just great! The Judge was going to visit her shop any time after today. Hopefully that day doesn't come too soon.

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The young baker was shaken out of her thoughts as soon as she heard giggles erupting from her parlor. Her husband must be playing with their daughter again. Curious about what he was doing now, she stopped what she was doing and headed for the parlor, staying at the threshold undetected. As she expected, he was making silly faces to the young child again. How adorable the sight was. She couldn't help but smile at the scene in front of her—and it didn't take long either for her presence to stay unnoticed since she too began to laugh as well.

"How long have you been standing there?" her husband asked as she made her way towards the couch to sit beside him.

"Long enough," she replied, following it with a peck on her husband's cheek.

Nellie sighed as she eyed her little daughter, who was playing with her mother's hand. "Our Rebecca's growing up. Can you believe she's turning a year old already? Time goes by too fast."

"Indeed it does," Benjamin agreed. "Let's make the most of it now while we still can. Next thing we know, she'll be learning how to do things on her own and she won't need us anymore."

"Now, now—aren't you thinking a little too far ahead?" she said in amusement. "Let's just focus on next week, shall we?"

The young barber smiled as he watched his wife talk to the infant about her coming birthday, and as usual the little girl responded with another fit of laughter.

"Your party's going to be fun, isn't it? Little Johanna's going to be there to play with you!"

In reality, Nellie Barker had more to worry about than her daughter's party. The lecherous Judge was going to come to her shop at any time this week, and it scared her. She should've been more careful and listened to what people said about him. What if her family was his next victim? She couldn't even imagine her life without them! Still, as she sat in her parlor along with her husband and daughter, she tried her best not to show her apprehension. They were right here with her living happily, and that was all that mattered at the moment—she intended to keep it that way.