Sweeney Todd AU because Len Cariou is on my short list of voice claims for Jonathan. We'll be having none of that Johnny Depp crap here.

Content Warning: Manslaughter; Murderous intent; Mentions of cannibalism; Shoehorned quotes from famous musical numbers

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"Yes well, as lovely as your revenging sounds, we do have a more… immediate problem on our hands, I'm afraid." Dryly, Tetch gestured at the ceiling. He was referring, of course, to the portmanteau-turned-coffin upstairs, bloodstained and bursting with the remains of a lacerated body. He had already swiped the ex-competitor's emerald colored change-purse, and he toyed with it absently. There wasn't much inside, at which the pieman nearly snorted. For such a braggart, the rival barber was pitifully insolvent. Much like himself, in fact. Jervis grimaced at the thought, but continued to pester Mister Crane, who was pointedly unresponsive.

"So what are we going to do about him?"

For the first time since his feverish killing, the barber fixed his gaze upon his landlord and replied, replacing his gore-smeared spectacles after several moments of halfhearted scrubbing. "Later on, when it's dark we'll take him to some secret place and bury him."

Jervis leaned back against the counter and sighed lightly, absently wiping his butcher's knife with a grimy rag. It glinted dully in the late afternoon light. "Well yes, of course, we could do that. I don't suppose he's got any relatives who'll come poking around looking… for… him." As the gears in Tetch's delusional little head began to revolve, his diction slowed. Jonathan barely seemed to notice; he'd gone back to glaring at the tabletop, face propped up on two unhappy fists. His accomplice continued regardless, glancing excitedly around his barren kitchen.

"Well you know me, bright ideas just pop into my head, and I keep thinking:"

He looked back to Jonathan. No response.

"Seems a downright shame, doesn't it?"

This caught the barber's attention, if vaguely. "Shame?" Since when did Tetch grow a conscience anyway?

"Yes, a terrible waste. What's-his-name has such a healthy gait… or, had anyway." He paused again, pondering. "…Has?"

Crane stared at the butcher opaquely. He was doing that thing again. He would probably break down into mindless tongues very shortly.

"Nevermind," he went on. "Fact of the matter is, business has been bad here, but of course I don't need to remind you of that. I mean, with the price of meat being what it is, when you get it… if you get it…"

He watched with cool eagerness as Jonathan processed his allusion. Sure enough, the clever cleaver's eyes glinted with comprehension, and he instantly sat up a little straighter. He so rarely smiled quite the way he was doing at that moment. "Huh!" The butcher's own grin rivaled it excitedly.

"Good, you got it."

"Why Tetch," he slowly rose from his chair. "It's brilliant."

Jervis feigned modesty, exaggeratedly fanning his face at the attention. "Oh, well—"

The barber stepped forward, taking purposeful strides and speaking crisply. "Imminently practical—"

"—It just seems a bit of a waste is all."

"—and yet appropriate."

"It's an idea."

"It's marvelous!"

"Well, I suppose. Everybody shaves, after all, so we'll never run short of lambs to slaughter. Assuming you're not opposed, that is."

"Opposed?" He leaned to take the pieman's hands and mesh them with his own, still baring his teeth in a manner that anyone else would find deeply unpleasant. "How could I ever oppose such a stroke of genius?" The dour old fellow never looked as gleeful before as he did with this new plan in mind.

"Oh, Mister Crane, hush! You flatter me!" He went on tittering madly.

Crane's smile grew darker still. "Now, now, you shouldn't be so self-effacing my pet." His grip tightened slightly.

"Oh, well..!"

Yes. This was the affection that Jervis had been wanting after so badly. See here, it only took some bloodshed and a little bit of friendship too. Completely worth it. And that goes completely without mentioning the tidy two-fold profit their little scheme would surely rake in.

Times were tough, after all, so they'd gladly serve anyone. They'd serve anyone to anyone at all.