Awww, still no reviews, what's the matter, guys, you don't like it? That's alright, this is my first Sweeney Todd fanfic, and so, it may have some false facts, for now. But, the good news is that Sweeney Todd is on TV twice on Halloween, and on twice on the Monday night following All Hallows Eve, so, I should have some experience before chapter 3 goes up.

was very kind to me, more kind than anyone had been to me in a long, long time. She gave me a warm bed in her home, and nice warm meat pies to eat. It was the Monday following the stormy night, when I began my job in the bakery. Gulliver now had hay and fresh water to drink; other than that nasty sea water. I felt at home here.

As soon as we opened, I began washing the counter top, as had asked me to, while she began baking. As soon as the oven was stuffed full with delicious meat pies, she sat in a chair behind the counter, just waiting. She eyed the now clean counter top, and decided to break the awkward silence with a compliment, directed towards me.

"Lovely job, Genevieve, ya quite the workah," she said.

As the day rolled by, and customers came and went, I was away at sweeping the floors. I hardly recognized anyone who came into the bakery on my first day. I only recognized a man with blue eyes and blond hair, a man who I always saw wandering Fleet Street. I ceased to know his name. But he seemed a good man. I noticed the way he gently conversed with , talking to her as if he had to ponder the words that crossed his lips thoroughly in his mind, as if she would draw a cleaver on him or some act of stupidity. As I swept in the corner of the bakery, towards the front window, I found myself taking small glances at the man. By the time he left, how I wanted to know his name.

I noticed that the bakery became very hot, for every mere minute or two; was removing fresh pies from it. I had to admit that the bakery was small, and it had a very intriguing tone to it, but still, it was much better than living on the streets. I continued my jobs quietly, hardly talking or making the smallest sound. Around noontide, the only noise in the bakery was the sound of my broom as I swished it across the battered stone floor. had run out to pick up some more flour, or something of the kind. All I knew was that she said she was going out, and to watch the bakery, for she'd be back shortly. So, I did.

While she was gone, I sold six pies. I was so ecstatic to sell my very fist pie that I thought my long, straight black hair would curl.

When returned, she held two immense bags of flour. I leaned the broom against the wall, and ran to her aid.

"Let me 'elp you with that," I said, taking both of the bags from her hold. I took them down into the cellar, and set them on the shelf. As I made my way towards the stairs up to the shop, something caught my eye. There, in the middle of the room was another oven. This one looked like it was iron-cast and roaring flames burned maliciously within it. My temples started to pound for a moment. Danger. Danger. When called for me, I snapped back into reality, and ran up the stairs. Mrs. Lovett was standing in the small alcove that was on the left side of her shop, her sitting room.

She held a tape measure up. "Come, Genevieve, let us take your measure for a new dress."

I smiled, and ran to her. After she took all she needed, she looked at the measurements carefully. "God, you're smaller than I am," she teased. "You need to gorge yourself more, girl." She looked sadly at a portrait of an obese man on the wall. "My Albert loved to gorge 'imself. Aye that he did." She sent me to close up the shop, for it was almost dusk. As I entered the room, I noticed a figure standing in the doorway. A tall figure, at that.

"'Ello, who's there?" I asked quietly.

The figured stayed as is.

I raised my brows. "Can I help you, sir?" I asked.

The figure stepped into the light that the oven produced. It was indeed a male. He had long, scruffy black hair, with a very conspicuous white streak in the corner of his head. He had dark, demonic like eyes.

He cleared his throat. "I am lookin' for ," he said.

I nodded. "Please, 'ave a seat, and I shall g and fetch her," I said pleasingly. I walked toward the alcove, and stuck my head in. Mrs. Lovett was sitting in front of the fire on her small sofa-thing, reading a book. "Mrs. Lovett," I whispered.

She turned her face at me. "Yes?"

"There's a man here to see you," I replied.

She quirked her brows. "A man? What's this 'man' look like?"

I thought for a moment. "'E's tall, with black hair and a pale face."

She got up. "Humph, I never 'eard of him. Ah, well, I bet I should speak with the man." As she began walking out into the shop, she pivoted on her heel, and faced me. "Did you lock up?"

"Yes, ma'am," I replied.

"Good, now, run along a fetch some supper. Oh, and, bring me a bottle of gin and a glass from the cupboard, would ya, love?" she asked kindly.

"Yes, ma'am."

As she disappeared into the shop, I made my way into the back of the building, to her small living space. I fetched the gin and two glasses, incase the stranger wanted some. I then smoothly went into the shop, and presented it to them.

then kindly shooed me to go eat supper, which I did. I ate one meat pie, and was surprisingly full. Besides, I was too focused on the strange man to gorge myself. After supper, I hid behind the wall in the alcove. I sat on the floor, back pressed against it, listening to the conversation they had.

It wasn't an hour later, that discovered me.

"Genevieve, come out, I know you're there," she said.

I crawled into sight, and advanced to a chair next to her.

"Genevieve, this is Mr. Barker…," she trailed.

"No!" hissed the man. "Not Barker. It's Todd now. Sweeney Todd."

"Well, then. , this is Genevieve, my helper in the shop."

"A pleasure," said.

"'Tis more a pleasure," I replied quietly.