A/N-Another review...yays! So I have nothing really to say except that I needed to take a break from the dark side of Toby and make him remember that sweet little boy he had once been. Most of this chapter is a flashback, but I hope that it's okay. Sorry if it is short. Enjoy!

Disclaimer-You guys know the drill. The song is Simple Plan's 'Perfect World'.

Perfect World

It had only been a month since Pirelli took off, leaving Toby on his own. Or that's how it would have been if Mrs.Lovett hadn't offered him a job at the pie shop. Granted she did forget to mention that his job also included running errands for the barber in the shop above his head, but he didn't mind at all. Toby was just glad that for once in his 10 years of living he wasn't beaten on a daily basis.

At the moment, he was sweeping up the shop while Mrs.Lovett cleaned the counter and dishes as Mr.Todd sat at the booth, a glass of gin in his hands. Both shops were closed, seeing as how Fleet Street was empty as the storm outside the window waged on. The 10 year old had paused in his chore as he watched a small boy run down the street in search for shelter, causing Toby to remembered the days when he had done the same whenever Pirelli had thrown him out.

"Wot are you thinkin' about, boy?" Toby realized it was just him and Mr.Todd now.

"Nothing in particular, sir." The child went back to sweeping. "Where's Mrs.Lovett?"

"She went down to the back house to prepare for more pies," Toby gave a nod as he continued what he was doing. "Why don't you come n' take a break?"

The boy hesitated before setting the broom against the wall before sitting across from the barber. This was the first time Toby had been alone with Mr.Todd since he had been there. An awkward silence fell over them as they sat there, the older man finishing his glass of gin.

"'ow do you like it 'ere?" Mr.Todd's voice startled him.

"I love it 'ere! Much better than the workhouse and with Signor Pirelli." Toby's face lit up. "I get treated like I matter, and it's nice to not get hit or thrown out into that."

Mr.Todd looked behind him to see the storm before looking back at the child in front of him. Toby noticed the barber's eyes drop to his right hand, the cuts that Pirelli's razors had left had changed into noticeable scares on his fingers.

"I've 'ad worse, sir." The 10 year old muttered. "Compared to some of my other scars, these ain't so bad."

"'ow do you mean, lad?"

"I was beaten worse at the workhouse," he said, his eyes going to the table. "I was the smallest where I worked, well compared to the others. Bit of a punching bag, I was. I once thought they were kill me, that's when I got this,"-Toby lifted up the side of his shirt enough for Mr.Todd to see a scar running along his side-"Even though Signor Pirelli wasn't much better, I was better off with him than where I was at."

"This place must seem like 'eaven to you," it wasn't a question, but Toby still nodded his head in agreement. "I know wot you mean, boy. Live through 15 years of 'ell back in Australia."

Silence fell over them again as Toby tucked his shirt back in.

"I've learned over the years that if something is too good, it probably isn't gonna last." Toby muttered, looking up at the older man. "Maybe it's just cos I'm used to gettin' beat, but I 'ave this feeling that I'll get 'urt somehow."

"Why do you say that?"

"Cos it's the truth. I always end up gettin' 'urt when you get down to it, sir." Toby explained as he got to his feet and grabbed the broom. "Whether it be cos of you or Mrs.Lovett, I'll get 'urt."

"Toby," the 10 year old was shocked to hear his name leave the barber's mouth. "You won't get 'urt anymore, I promise."

When Mrs.Lovett returned to the kitchen, Toby was smiling as he swept the floor. Despite the storm outside the shop, the three of them were feeling cheery; each for their own reason. Mr.Todd's words repeated in his head, and Toby believed him.

"You promised," Toby whispered as he turned to face the barber.

"Promised you wot?" the ghost asked, his eyes never leaving Fleet Street.

"When I told you that in the end I always got 'urt, you promised I wouldn't get 'urt anymore."

"I did, didn't I?" he saw the barber nod his head.

"You didn't keep the promise," Toby was looking out the window again.

"Yer right, I didn't."

"Which makes you a liar as well, Mr.T."

"Something the three of us 'ave in common," there was a smile of amusement on the barber's pale face. "I'm talking about you, Mrs.Lovett, and meself."

"I know. Proper family we were, don't you think Mr.T?" there was a smile on his pale face as well.

"'ow else would you 'ave got my insanity, Mrs.Lovett's gentle n' forgivin' 'eart, and our need to lie?"

They both laughed as they stared out the window. It was another gloomy day for the shop owners on Fleet Street, but Toby felt right at home.

"I believed you," Toby whispered once the laughter had died out"I know, boy." Mr.Todd returned. "I'm sorry,"

"For wot?"

"For letting you down," the ghost muttered. "For 'urtting you in the end."

Toby knew he meant the apology. And for some reason, he still believed the promise from 21 years ago.

I had to have this 'father-son' moment between those two. Tell me what you think in a review.

If you review, you get an afternoon with either Toby or mini-Todd. You also get another meat pie! The flavors are as follows (Sweeney had a very productive day and night...again):

We have priest, student, Judge, Beadle, another random bloke off the street, lawyer, Depp-bashing friends, friar, royal marine, grocer, poet, fop, shepard, Tim Burton-bashing friends, and the guys responsible for making finals after the Christmas holidays.

If you don't review mini-Todd will come after you, Sweeney and Mrs.Lovett will come after you, I'll pull a Mr.T and/or Mrs.Lovett, or you just won't get a meat pie.

S.M.Hoffman