Okay, guys, so this is my first Sweeney Todd fanfic, so I have no idea how it'll turn out. So, yeah, if you can't tell, it's written with a severe London accent. Just go with it. I do not own Sweeney Todd - Stephen Sondheim does, cappesh? Now this first chapter doesn't have much actual Sweeney Todd stuff in it, but I thought I should give you guys a basic background so you know what the heck is going on. Cheers!

I was down in me kitchen, makin' kippers, nice an' normal, an' I looked out o' my window an' I saw boy. 'E looked to be not much older then m'self, maybe fifteen, and he 'ad the most fer-miliar face... the hair... the hair was just like that. And the eyes... the exact same shade. The face... could it be...?

"Toby!" I gasped. I ran out into the street and wrapped my arms around 'is neck and- What? Oh, yeah, you prob'ly wanna know who I am, yeah? And who Toby is? Right. There's me always getting ahead o' m'self. But like I always say, nothing explains the past like a good back story, right?

I'm Alley. That's not my real name - I made it up. Y'see, I grew up in a work'ouse, 'cause I've got no parents, right? Your prob'ly wonderin', 'Why'd you go to a work'ouse, 'stead of an orph'nage? And y'know what? That's a good question, 'cause it makes sense. It has a good answer, though, too. 'Cause y'see, me parents didn't die or anythin'. They just didn't want me no more. So they left me in a work'ouse, 'cause the owner paid some money fer me, and me mum and dad prob'ly needed it fer food. I don' blame 'em. They did what they 'ad to do.

First thing y'gotta know is that the work'ouse is no place fer children. Kids slip an' fall on the equipment, an' one girl let 'er 'air grow too long, and it got stuck in the thread machine, an' it ripped all 'er 'air right off 'er 'ead. Saddest thing. Never saw 'er after that. None of us were allowed to know what 'appened to 'er, but I figured it couldn' be anythin' good, right?

So basically, I'm stuck in this place, miserable, fer ten years, an' none o' the kids was nice to me, 'cause they all thought I was funny 'cause o' the freckles on me face, and I 'ave black 'air, and they said I looked like a witch, an' by the way, I don' think that's fair 'cause I've never even me' a witch, so how'm I s'pose'te know 'ow not ter look like one?

It was 'orrible, until a few weeks after I 'ah turned ten. A new boy came t' the work'ouse, and 'e made things not so bad. 'E made friends wi' me, and said I shouldn' listen to what those other kids say abou' me, and that 'e'd be friends wi' me. 'E was as cheerful of a bloke as I'd ever seen in a place as awful as that work'ouse, and 'e made me feel downright cheerful, 'cause when you 'ang around an optimistic cheerful bloke long enough, some of i's boun' ter rub off.

Toby, 'is name was. Toby protected me from those mean brutes of kids. They were ge'in old enough that they figured out they could bully us smaller ones, so Toby 'ad to step in a bunch o' times to keep 'em from right poundin' on me. I'll never forget wha' 'e did fer me in those three years tha' I was in the work'ouse with 'im.

I know what yer thinking'. 'Only three years? Why?" I'll tell ya. 'Cause some greasy Aye-talian bloke came in and took 'im away from me. Toby told 'im ter pick someone else, or to take me with 'im, but the bloke jus' laughed and said 'e wasn't gonna get ANOTHER mouth ter feed.

After that, I suffered in the ol' 'ouse fer another year. All the kids tha' coul'n' 'urt me when Toby was aroun' star'ed bullyin' twice's much. After a year, though, thin's star'ed lookin' up.

I was called inter the owner's office one day, an 'e told me a relative o' mine was 'ere to take me ter live with 'em. It was a sister of me mum's, Martha, she was called. An' anyone wot says it was stupid of me to go off with some stranger claimin' to be my relative be'er keep their mouth shut, or else I'll give 'em a black eye, 'cause they don' know wha' i's like in the work-ouse, a'right?

So I goes and I lives with me Auntie Martha for a year, an' she's jus' the sweetest old lady I ever me'. Old, though, After a year, she died o' pneumonia, an' she leaves everythin' to me.

So now, I got me own 'ouse, and Auntie Martha left me with enough money to live comfortably for quite some time. And besides tha', I got me own shop. I sells fish an' pastries an' such.

Where was I before? Oh, yeah, I looked out me window an' I saw Toby!

What'd you guys think? Be honest! Reviews appreciated! Next chapter: will Toby remember Alley? Will he be over the trauma of previous events? Will the blood of Sweeney Todd stain his clothes and his conscience? Will I ever shut up? Uh, yeah. So, seriously - tune in next time.