Got my Sweeney Todd copy finally in the mail yesterday! I have watched it five times already and still want more! So, I'll be able to squeeze Genevieve into the plot a little better. Here's a mush scene that I got up at midnight to write because I couldn't get the idea from my head.

Genevieve's POV…

Later that night, everything was all wrong. Mrs. Lovett was astounded so much that she immediately fell asleep. Earlier, Toby discovered that Senor Piralli had left him behind. He was like me in a way, homeless, craving paternal affection. So, Mrs. Lovett fell for the lad, and allowed him to stay with us, and help run the shop. Toby now slept next to Mrs. Lovett's small sofa, on the floor by the fire. I lay in my spot by Mrs. Lovett's feet, also upon the floor, twirling my burnt tendrils around my index finger. I hated what happened to me earlier, and I wished that there was something that I could do.

Then, suddenly, it hit me!

I quietly got from my spot, and grabbed one of the candles burning brightly on the mantle. Quietly, I snuck from the shop, and went up the stairs. Once inside the tonsorial parlor, I was surprised to find Mr. Todd awake in his barber chair.

"Mr. Todd," I whispered.

His head snapped up, as if he just noticed that I was standing there. "Oh, Genevieve, it's you. Come in," he bade softly. "What can I do for you?" he whispered.

My hair was looped on my head and held into place with a piece of fabric Mrs. Lovett tore from something. "I need a barber's assistance," I said. I set the candle down on the trunk, and took a step toward him. I reached up atop my head, and pulled the piece of fabric from my head, allowing the rest of my hair to tumble down upon my shoulders. "I 'ad and accident earlier, involvin' Mrs. Lovett's oven," I informed him sweetly, pulling at one of my tendrils. "Will you 'elp me?" I asked.

He stood up. "Come 'ere, love," he bade softly.

I did.

He took one of my brown tendrils between his fingers. "Caught yourself on fire, didn't you?" he asked.

"Yes, Sir, it was a pure accident."

He chuckled. "Come now, Genevieve, sit. I'll 'elp ya," he said.

I had only seen Mr. Todd work his ways with a razor, but, never a pair of scissors. Quietly, and almost inconspicuously, he gently trimmed the burnt hair from my tendrils. Pieces fell gracefully to the floor and into my lap.

"You have nice curls," said Mr. Todd. "You don't want to cut into those curls," he said, cutting a little more. He sighed. "So, 'ow is Lovett treatin' you these days?" he asked, as if he didn't know.

"Fine, just fine," I replied.

Over the month I had been here, I had never been so happy in my life. I admired Mrs. Lovett and her true beauty. I was once surrounded by dukes and duchesses aplenty, but now, Mrs. Lovett and Mr. Todd's working life felt like home to me. And I was more than sure that Toby felt the same way.

"What were they like, Genevieve?" he asked.

I turned to him. "Pardon me, Sir. Who?"

His face saddened. "Your parents. What were they like? I'm sure they were better parents than I was."

"Nonsense, Mr. Todd. I may 'ave loved me parents, but, they liked to ignore me so. They would go out most of the time, and leave me 'ome alone," I said. I was taken a bit aback, and I didn't want to be reminded my many years of hidden-depression. "I hated being wealthy. People hated me for it."

Mr. Todd nodded. "I feel for ya," he said.

He trimmed a little more. I hated saying goodbye to my hair but, it had to be done. It seemed that with every piece that fell to the floor, part of my former life fell with it. Perhaps Mrs. Lovett's oven did me a favor by burning my hair, for my hair had been so much with me. Perhaps I would forget all the years of being ignored. I sat quietly as Mr. Todd finished with my tendrils, and he put his scissors away. "There ya go, love," he said, wiping off his scissors.

"Thank you, Mr. Todd," I said.

"You're welcome, now, I suggest you go back downstairs to Mrs. Lovett," he said. "She's probably worried."

I nodded. "Yes, yes, quite right." I reached into my pocket and pulled out a penny that someone tipped me for helping them retrieve directions to the water ports. I began digging for more. "'Ow much do I owe you?" I asked.

I put his hand up. "Nothing. Consider it the first cut I gave in my new life," he said.

Wait! I thought you just gave Senor Piralli a cut this morning? Very perplexed, I politely thanked him, then, strode from the shop, grabbing the candle before I left. It was odd that Mr. Todd didn't consider Senor Piralli. Then again, he shaved Senor Piralli; perhaps that's what he meant. Or maybe, he didn't shave Senor Piralli at all?

I quietly snuck into the shop again. I was surprised to see Toby sitting at the booth by the window. His head was propped up on his hand, and he looked exhausted. Mrs. Lovett was nowhere in sight. I could hear loud heaving noises coming from the washroom.

"Poor thing, she's sick," Toby said.

I arched a brow. "What 'appened, Toby?" I asked, taking a seat across from him.

He began to tremble. "She got up and began moaning. I tried to 'elp her but, she wouldn't let me," he said, saddened. "Perhaps you should see if she will be alright," he suggested.

"'Ow long 'as it been before she got up?" I asked.

"Just a few minutes," he said. "Oh, Genevieve, please make sure she's alright."

I nodded.

Quietly, I walked out into the washroom. Mrs. Lovett was on her knees, vomiting into a wooden bucket. She was straining her muscles, as if making herself vomit. I thought about how I had been down such road, and went to her side. I gently held her hair from her face.

"There, there," I cooed.

Oh, Eleanor Lovett, what have you done to yourself?

"You shouldn't be in here, Genevieve," she finally said when she got a break from hurling. "I'd 'ate myself if you caught somethin'."

If I caught somethin'? How silly! Werewolves are practically immortal.

"I can't 'elp it if my employer is sick," I said. "Allow me to 'elp," I bade.

And with that, I sat beside my employer, helping her get through a sudden sickness.