A/N: I don't own Sweeney Todd or Pirates of the Caribbean.
1. The Renegade Hunter
"Looks like a storms on it's way, Mista Todd," Mr. Lovett remarked, gazing at the band of clouds that spanned the horizon, quickly becoming one with the coming dusk. Faint flickers of lightning danced along their undersides, followed by distant rumbles of thunder. "Yep, a big one, too. Best not to go out tonight, love, lest you want to become a lightnin' rod. Jus' think of all that energy pumpin' through your body. Talk 'bout plum bad luck."
"I'll keep that in mind, Mrs. Lovett," Sweeney Todd replied, an incredible weariness overcoming him suddenly. "Maybe it'll be better if I just call it a day, close up shop, go to bed early, that sort of thing. We've got enough pies to last the evening, don't we?" Seeing the baker nod fractionally, the barber finished the rest of his gin and retired to his parlor upstairs. Dampening a cloth, he began to scrub the dried blood of the barber chair, aware of the thunder getting closer. Completing his task, he went on to polishing his razors until his reflection could be seen. The room abruptly darkened as the black clouds rolled overhead despite the hour only being four in the afternoon. A bellowing crash made Sweeney jump, the deep reverberations shaking the house. Packing his blades in their case, the barber crept to the small cot in the corner and laid down, covers pulled above his head, quickly falling asleep.
"Hoist them there anchors, maties, or the captain won't be pleased!"
"Right! And if I'm not pleased, yer not pleased, and we've got a big 'ol mess on our hands. Savvy?"
Growling in annoyance, Sweeney sat upright, ready to tell off whoever was making that infernal racket, but his anger was replaced by confusion. Where in God's name am I? Getting to his feet, the barber nearly fell on his face as the floor pitched alarmingly. Spying a round window, he stumbled over to it and swore. He was on the damn sea! The opening of the door behind him made Sweeney whirl, ebony gaze fixed in the bald man in the entrance. Magically producing one of his razors, he advanced on the figure, who gulped. "You, tell me where I am and I promise not to give you a shave."
Coughing, the man answered in a small voice. "Um, you're aboard the Renegade Hunter, heading toward Singapore. The capt'n has to--Oi, take it easy with that thing!" Sweating, he tried to back away, but the barber placed the lethal blade to his throat. "Sir, Capt'n Sparrow, we've got a madman on the ship!"
"Mr. Gibbs, there's no need to shout," a man with dreadlocks beneath a tri-hat snapped behind his first officer, shaking his head. Eyeing Sweeney's razor, Captain Jack Sparrow cleared his throat meaningfully, though he failed to gain a response. "Mate, I'd prefer it if you didn't threaten my crew. Besides, us pirates have swords while you have only that flimsy little blade." The barber gave Sparrow such a glare that the pirate took a step back. "Who are ya, anyways, chap?"
"Sweeney Todd," Sweeney snarled. "And you might want to warn your crew that if any of them even looks at me the wrong way, I'll provide them with a second mouth." Pushing past the two men, the barber emerged onto the heaving deck, grabbing a hanging rope to steady himself. Dozens of people scurried about, barking various orders. Bright sunlight warmed his face while seagulls wheeled in the sky. Hailing a passing boy, Sweeney asked the date, stunned by the reply. "1651?!" Rocketing below, he snatched Sparrow's shirt, eyes blazing. "Tell me how I've been transported almost 200 years into the bloody past?"
"Yer guess is as good as mine," the pirate captain said, extricating himself from the barber's grip. "Listen, me an' my ship're going to Singapore so's I can have a little chat with its fortune-teller person. If you like, ya can come along to see if she can give ya some hint as to 'ow you got here. Sound good?" Sweeney continued to stare, making Sparrow uncomfortable. "What, was it somethin' I said?"
"This woman, are you sure she knows how I got here?" the barber demanded, the underlying threat of death all to clear. Unexpectedly, his razor whipped out, the flat of its blade striking Mr. Gibbs's hand. "Unless you want to lose your fingers, don't touch my things." The first officer nodded frantically, snatching back his throbbing hand, amazed that Sweeney had been able to see him despite not taking his eyes from the captain. "Now then, Captain Sparrow, you listen to me. Should the fortune-teller fail to provide me with the information I need, everyone on the Renegade Hunter will go to their Maker smooth-faced."
"Royal ship off the starboard bow!"
"Bugger!" Sparrow said, running topside, the others at his heels. Squinting, he made out the outline of a vessel bearing down on the Renegade Hunter, flying the Royal colors. "Wish I still had the Black Pearl, but she's on the other side of the world. Alright, ya scallywags, run up the flag! Prepare the guns for combat! Whoa, what in the blazes--? It's the Flying Dutchman, right on cue! Ahoy there, William Turner! Fancy seein' you here!" Taking off his hat, Sparrow waved it gleefully at the large black ship that had simply popped into existence beside them.
"Likewise, Jack!" a brown-haired man shouted, a long, jagged scar visible on his chest. Spinning the wheel, William turned the Flying Dutchman to face the Royal vessel, which had changed course upon the other ship's appearance. Howling, he commanded his crew to bring her to a halt. Crossing the distance between the ships, William landed next to Sparrow, studying Sweeney. "No offense, but you look like death warmed over."
"Easy, Will," the Renegade Hunter's captain muttered as the barber shot Will a glower. "This one's got a quick temper. An' not the good kind, if ya get me drift." Casually putting an arm around his friend, Sparrow drew him away from Sweeney. "Okay, now that yer here, you can help me keep an eye on what's-his-name over there. Frankly, he gives me the creeps." A gust of wind filtered the sound of singing toward them. "Great, now he's singing."
"They all deserve to die.
"Tell you why, Mrs. Lovett, tell you why.
"Because in all of the whole human race, Mrs. Lovett
"There are two kind of men and only two.
"There's the one staying put in his proper place and the one with his foot in the other one's face.
"Look at me, Mrs. Lovett, look at you.
"Now we all deserve to die.
"Even you, Mrs. Lovett, even I.
"Because the lives of the wicked should be made brief
"For the rest of us death will be a relief.
"We all deserve to die.
"And I'll never see Johanna,
"No , I'll never hug my girl to me--FINISHED!
"All right! You sir, how about a shave?
"Come and visit your good friend Sweeney.
"You sir! Too sir! Welcome to the grave!
"I will have vengeance
"I will have salvation!
"Who, sir? You, sir?
"No one's in the chair. Come on, come on!
"Sweeney's waiting. I want you bleeders.
"You sir? Anybody!
"Gentlemen, now don't be shy!
"Not one man
"No, nor ten men
"Nor a hundred
"Can assuage me
"I will have you!
"And I will get him back even as he gloats
"In the meantime I'll practice on less honorable throats!
"And my Lucy lies in ashes
"And I'll never see my girl again.
"But the work waits!
"I'm alive at last, and I'm full of joy!"
Sparrow rolled his eyes heavenward, wondering how he had managed to get stuck with the crazy singing barber. It's gonna be a long way to Singapore if that bloke keeps on vocalizin' his songs. "You men, make all haste for Singapore! The faster we go, the better for us all!"