Disclaimer: if I owned Sweeney Todd then I wouldn't be writing a disclaimer so yah no suing I no own ^.^

Thanks for all the lovely reviews ^.^ and yes it is a sweenett it's just taking me a little while to get there.

It was a good thing Ms. Lovett had showed me my room earlier because if she hadn't I would have been totally lost and probably walked into the wrong room.

Once I got into the room I felt the need to look around, to do something that might trigger my memories that might make me Sweeney Todd again. I didn't know this man whom I had assumed identity as, but he seemed to be able to take care of himself fairly well.

While looking around I found my razors that I had been looking for; they were just sitting there, waiting for me, waiting for my decision. Lucy had always found my small obsession over them weird, but that seemed to make her love me more.

Ms. Lovett seemed to be that way too; this Sweeney Todd seemed like the proper ass at times, but Ms. Lovett really didn't care. She almost welcomed it by what I was able to gather; she didn't like it when I was being polite. Or maybe it was just weird to her, I'm not sure, but I'll have to make it my duty that when I get my memories back, I'll have to be nicer.

After about an hour later I figured that this would be pointless because I had nothing that could help me out right now. So I went to bed, well, what I meant to say was that I tried to. I had never, ever , ever! Had a night quite as bad as that night. But after I thought about it, maybe I had had worse nights, I didn't feel as tired as I thought I would. And I had this weird urge to start pacing. It made no sense to me.

Ms. Lovett's POV:

I couldn't say that I liked Benjamin Barker more than I liked Sweeney Todd, but I could say that it was very hard to believe that this was the same man. It was obvious that Sweeney Todd was seventeen years older than Benjamin Barker; the way Benjamin talked, like a confused child, over the way Mr. T talked, like a man, beaten for fifteen years, lived in hell and came back. Like I said, it was hard to believe that this was the same man.

I didn't have the best night's sleep, something was missing and it took me almost two long hours to figure it out. Mr. T wasn't pacing like he always did; I hadn't noticed its effects on me, but last night it was apparent. So I figured that Mr. T had gotten a good night's rest finally.

So, when I went into the kitchen to make breakfast for Toby and Mr. T, I was shocked to see the thick bags under his eyes; yes they were almost always there, but only on nights he had been pacing.

"Tired love?" I couldn't help laughing.

"Yes, I felt very restless." He still wasn't himself, if he was he would have just nodded or grunted.

"Mum, do you need something from the market? I felt bad about the Gin so I'm going to get more." Toby asked politely, all dressed up. It must have been cold out.

"Yes, I need spices and meat, lots of meat. Ask for their best cut." This was the first time I had ever had to go out and actually buy meat, if people notice the difference, I'll have to just come up with something.

"Really mum, but don't you usually go out and get it?"

"Yes, but the place I get it at is closed for a little while."

"Okay mum."

"I'll just be down in the bake house if you don't mind." I told Mr. T after finding him in the parlor looking around.

He nodded.

I needed to clean the bake house, it smelled horrific. The furnace was hot and ready, the hands and feet were thrown in making the smell twice as bad. The walls needed to be scrubbed, the blood was so thick in certain places that it was nearly black.

"I really should have cleaned up earlier." I mumbled to myself.

After nearly three long hours I was completely done; the bake house smelt nice like a bake house should. It was ready for the afternoon rush.

After I got dressed and ready, Toby came rushing through the door with all the groceries.

"Here mum, it was expensive, so I had to come back for more, is that okay?"

"Of course dear, now get the tables ready they'll be here in only a few short hours."

"And what should I do with myself in that time?" Mr. T asked.

"Well you can open up your barber shop today, oh and, remember, don't press the foot lever k."

"What does it do?"

"It opens up a trap hole to my bake house."

"Why in the world would it do that?"

"I'm not sure, it was there when I got it. Someone owned the house before me so they must have put it in."

"Okay, I won't. Thank you for the warning." He walked off and up into his barber shop.

Hopefully working again could help his memories, meat was so expensive that it would be hard to maintain the cost. Plus people might notice the difference, I'll have to ask Toby to try some.

So that's what I did, I made three different pies, all with different spices added to them and asked Toby which he liked better.

"Well mum, I would have to say that this one is the best, but why not use your original recipe?"

"Well love, I wanted to try something different." More like needed to try something different.

The first costumer was just walking through the doors and I didn't have a single pie made up.

"Hello sir, I haven't started making the pies yet so it will be a bit, I was trying a new recipe."

"That's okay, so long as it's good and hot. The cold's not good for my old bones." The man said, sitting down at the table.

"Is it cold out? I was in the bake house all day, keeps this house warm. Might I suggest a shave he's just upstairs."

"That sounds fine, is it warm up there as well?"

"Yes sir."

The man went upstairs, in about ten minutes he would be downstairs again for a pie. The thought was odd to me.

By the time the man came back downstairs with a clean shave, the first set of pies were done, and more costumers where filling in. The rush lasted for hours and I was glad when it was done. They didn't seem to care about the difference, they liked it so that was good. One less worry. People were very rude, always yelling never asking. They talked loud and would get very impatient if their food wasn't done soon. And there was so many costumers that sometimes it was hard to remember who came first so that they wouldn't start yelling. It was annoying, and before I would send them up to get a shave while they waited just so that they would shut up for good. But now I just had to suck it up.

Sweeney Todd's POV:

It was a good thing that I hadn't forgotten how to shave in prison. I couldn't believe how many people walked through that door, the lively chimes ringing every time someone stepped foot into here. I was more than happy to talk to them, it was easy, even though their petty problems meant nothing to me. The most shocking part to me was that at the end of the day I felt more tired than I ever had. Maybe it was the lack of sleep, but it felt deeper than that, I truly felt old. Not so old that I couldn't ever do anything, but just old enough to feel the wrath of the day on me.

i know that this is not a cliffhanger, and i don't know what else to write. but dont worry i will write.(it's so cold here)thanks