Hi everyone! Sorry for the break, but I'm back to write more fanfics! Here's my new one, Tragic Vixen, and I hope you enjoy it!

Disclaimer: I own nothing of the amazing Sweeney Todd franchise.

Chapter 1

What a Pretty Face

Mrs. Lovett was was quick to grab Sweeney's hand as he reached for his razor. "No love," she whispered to him. His eyes remained fixed on the Beadle. "I should cut him down now," he thought, but he knew Mrs. Lovett was right: too many witnesses.

"Ladies and gentlemen!" cried a small boy who appeared on the stage. "May I have your attention, please!!!" He looked ridiculous as he marched around smacking a drum. Sweeney and Mrs. Lovett exchanged glances of unamusement. The boy tossed them a bottle of Pirelli's Miracle Elixir.

"Try it sir," said the poor boy while he rubbed a dollop on the head of a bald audience member.

"Smells like piss," Sweeney whispered.

"Smells like what? Eeew!" Mrs. Lovett exclaimed, tossing the bottle back to him. The boy got a worried look on his face.

"Makes hair grow in an instant! Look!" He removed his cap, revealing long, blonde hair. The audience grew anxious, that is, until Sweeney blurted out, "This is piss and ink!"

"Try Pirelli's miracle elixir," said the boy, "it works just like and elixir ought to!"

"I wouldn't try it if I were you," said Mrs. Lovett to the audience around her.

"You're sure to love it!" said the boy.

"Flies do too," said Mrs. Lovett. The audience broke out into laughter. And that's when Sweeney saw her.

A tall, graceful woman who looked in her late teens strode through the curtain. She had black curls falling down her shoulders. Her skin was porcelain and her eyes were dark, and Sweeney couldn't take his eyes off her for a moment.

Whistles erupted from the crowd. Indeed, she was scantily clad in a black laced dress, short in the front, long in the back, and a low bust line. Black stockings went up thigh-high, laced up the back. She walked gracefully in her heels to the end of the stage where men piled on top of each other to try to get a glimpse up her skirt.

"The next man to buy this elixir," she sang to the audience, "shall be so satisfied!" Numerous women in the crowd scowled as their husbands drooled at the sound of her perfect voice.

"Oy, what does that mean?" Sweeney looked over to the scumbag who yelled at her. "Does that mean we got a chance at bed with you, sweetheart?" Men roared.

The girl shouted back, "A better chance than you'll get if you don't buy the elixir, sir!" The men laughed, but Sweeney was sure he saw a flash of fear in the girl's eyes.

"Mrs. Lovett, do you know her?"

"Who doesn't?" she replied bitterly. "That there is Vixie White, resident pretty-thing."

"What's she doing with Pirelli?"

"No one knows. She's trying to get into show business, a cabaret singer, or something like that. Pirelli said he had a 'stage job' for her and she took it, not knowing what his intentions were."

"How long's she been with him?"

"Couple years."

Vixie showered the men with elixir in response to the roars and the whistles.

"Does he....." Sweeney couldn't bear to say "bed her".

"Not yet," said Mrs, Lovett nonchalantly. "She's mere seventeen."

"And yet, she must do a job like this."

A man had run up on stage and had to be pried off Vixie by Pirelli's supervisors.

At that moment, Pirelli himself appeared through the curtain. Sweeney had to stifle a laugh; the great Italian barber looked more like a corseted blue rooster with a woman's hairdo.

"Someone says my elixir is piss. Who says this?" said Pirelli to the crowd in his cheesy accent. Sweeney wasn't planning on speaking up, until he saw the barber's hand graze Vixie's backside as she walked by.

"I did."

Mrs. Lovett sighed. The audience grew quiet as Sweeney made his way to the stage apron.

"You? Who are you, sir?" asked Pirelli, putting his hands on his hips.

"Todd. Sweeney Todd."

Vixie eyed Sweeney admiringly behind Pirelli.

"And you think my elixir is..."

"Piss and ink." Pirelli said nothing, he just stared Sweeney down. "I bet five pound that I'm a better barber than you are."

Pirelli grinned. "A challenge. Who wants a free shave?!"

The men roared and two made their way to the front to sit before the tow barbers. The boy took the throws off Pirelli's great chair and tossed them to Vixie, who disappeared behind the curtain with them. A supervisor tossed Sweeney an old, plain chair. He passed a razor along his vest.

"Can I steepen the stakes?"

Pirelli eyed him. "What is it that you want, Mr. Todd?"

"If I win, your girl goes free."

The audience gasped.

"Toby!!!"

The boy appeared by Pirelli's side clutching Vixie's arm. She winced as Pirelli spoke, inches from her face, "You're up for a bet."

She opened her eyes and found Sweeney's. They looked so kind to him. Like Lucy's.

Pirelli marched back over to him. "So, it's a deal. Five pound and my little pretty thing."

Sweeney nodded. "And, I think it's acceptable for us to have a judge."

Pirelli nodded.

"I think it only fitting that the Beadle would judge."

The audience was silent as they turned to face the Beadle. "I accept," he said modestly.

"Excellent," Sweeney thought.

"The one with the quickest, smoothest shave wins," said Beadle.

"Oh, Mr. Todd," said Pirelli as he lathered cream on the man's face beneath him, "if only you really knew anything about barbering and the art within it!"

But Sweeney was already done by the time that Pirelli had finished his sentence.

"Mr. Todd is the winner!" Beadle exclaimed. The audience cheered loudly, but Sweeney kept his eyes on Vixie. Pirelli had her by the arm and she looked frightened, but he couldn't make out what he was saying to her. He then led Vixie to where Sweeney was standing, and the beadle departed.

"Fair is fair Mr. Todd." He thrust Vixie into Sweeney's arms. He felt her trembling as she looked up at him before quickly departing down the stage steps. Sweeney watched her go. "The five pounds?" he reminded Pirelli, neglecting to look at him. The Italian reluctantly dropped the silver into his open hand, but Sweeney didn't care about the money.

He met Mrs. Lovett waiting for him by the lamppost. "Don't get too attached, Mr. T," she said glumly. "She's a wild thing, she is. Can't be tamed. Performers, you know."

He didn't answer.

"Mr. T, you listening?"

"Yes." His eyes had lost her finally.