Author's notes: This is Chapter 3! It's a bit longer than the others and takes place around the market scene. It's one of my personal favourites, so I hope you enjoy it.

Disclaimer: I don't own Sweeney Todd, its characters or its plot.

Chapter 3 – Pirelli's Miracle Elixir

"Nelly, I feel awful leaving you."

"Not to worry love. After all, I don't really get many customers," she said with a smile.

"I still feel bad. Maybe I should just tell Mr Todd that I'm staying with you," I decided. She was such a sweet woman, and I wasn't just going to leave her on her own.

"I don't think that's the best idea, dearie. Don't want to get on the wrong side of Mr T," she warned. "Why don't you work for him, and if he doesn't have any customers for a bit you could come and help me, eh?"

I nodded, defeated.

"Now hurry on, don't keep the man waiting!"

I was halfway out of the door before she called out:

"Tell Mr T we're going to the market, will you love? Then come down and get yourself ready. It's chilly out there."

I turned around.

"Why are we going to the market?"

"To get some equipment for Mr Todd. And there's something I want to show him."

I trudged miserably up the stairs to Mr Todd's shop. I knocked nervously on the door. He opened it, frowning. When he realised it was me, he stood out of the way and let me in.

For what seemed like an age we stood in silence. Then I said:

"Mrs Lovett told me to tell you that we're going to the market."

"What for?"

"Equipment for you. And she wants to show you something, but she wouldn't say what."

He nodded.

"How old did you say you were, Miss Perkins?"

"Twenty one sir."

He nodded slowly.

"What was his name?" he asked.

I was slightly confused as to why he was asking these questions, but thought it best to answer.

"My husband's?" I asked. He nodded. "Mark Perkins," I replied sadly.

"Did you love him?"

I nodded quickly, but Mr Todd raised an eyebrow.

"Not really." I muttered, truthfully.

"Then why did you stay with him?"

"For so many reasons," I started, before I broke down in sobs. Mr Todd did nothing just stood and watched, obviously expecting a proper answer. "Oh goodness, I was such a fool to stay with him. I just did because it gave me somewhere warm to stay, and I had enough money to get by. And all the other lads I'd been with before him just used me. Oh, and of course it was arranged by our parents, so I couldn't disappoint them. I thought I was lucky, because it seemed that I'd found someone who actually appreciated me, even though it wasn't his choice. And – this is going to sound really stupid – he was so handsome. All these girls who never gave me a second glance suddenly wanted to be my friend. And I knew they were only doing that for Mark, but at least I didn't feel like the odd one out. I was the one all the beautiful women envied. I guess I just stayed because…oh, I don't know!"

That had been incredibly hard for me to say, as I was crying liking a child the whole time, sitting on the trunk against one wall. Sweeney had watched me sincerely the whole time, not making a move to comfort me. Eventually he spoke.

"You'd best get ready if we're going out. Your make-up has smudged."

I wasn't sure, but I thought there might have been sympathy in those cold, beautiful eyes. Oh, what was I thinking? I was terrified of the man, and now I was back to calling him handsome? He placed a hand on my back and lead me towards the door, then pushed me out, shutting it behind me.

I took my suitcase from the kitchen into what Mrs Lovett told me was my room. She was right, it wasn't much, but it would certainly do. In fact, it was quite similar to the sitting room where we'd had our gin.

I placed the trunk on my bed and opened it. I placed the Bible on the stand beside my bed, along with the picture. I placed my hair pins and kohl on the dressing table and hung my dresses and underwear in the wardrobe. All the few accessories I'd packed went in a cupboard.

"Hurry up love!" I heard Nelly's voice shout from the kitchen.

I quickly washed my face in the wash bowl, and then applied some more kohl. I perched my black and purple hat on my head, and fastened a purple gem pendant around my neck (which had been a present from Mark). I remembered what Nelly had said about it being cold, and pulled my black coat on over my dress and slipped my thin hands into a pair of black lace gloves.

"I'm done!" I called, walking into the kitchen. Mrs Lovett had tidied herself up, and Sweeney was wearing the leather coat again.

"About time too," teased Nelly. "Come on, let's go."

We walked through the streets of London, me in between Mrs Lovett and Mr Todd. We looked like a strange family.

We stopped at various shops, first a barbering shop. There we found a belt with loops and holsters to place his equipment in. He put it on before we had even bought it, slipping his razor into the slot. We also bought a cloth, a sheet to cover the customers with, a strop for sharpening the blade (which went on the belt) and a bowl and brush for applying the shaving foam. Mrs Lovett placed these in her basket. We stopped at other shops, buying essentials for Mr Todd's room – such as blankets and a kettle, food for us all, and some new petticoats for me.

We were walking towards St Dunstan's market when Mrs Lovett remembered that she'd forgotten to buy flour.

"You two go to the market on your own. Mr Todd, take care of Sarah please."

I rolled my eyes.

"I'm not a child Nelly," I smiled.

"I know you're not love, just don't want anything to happen to you," she said. Then she checked Mr Todd wasn't listening, before whispering to me: "You know the barber who's here every Tuesday?" I nodded. "Make sure Mr T sees him. And look after me basket too."

"Yes ma'am."

Then she was walking back in the direction of the food shop.

"Come on then Mr Todd, let's go to the market."

He offered his arm to me. I looked at him, confused.

"I'm looking after you," he reminded me.

I took his arm, feeling a blush form on my cheeks. Again.

"What's so important that we see here?" he asked, as we walked past the people selling their various items, towards a stage in the centre of the square.

"Oh, just a barber. Here every Tuesday. Italian. Best barber in London, they say."

He sighed, but said nothing.

The stage was relatively large, with a large sign which read: 'Adolfo Pirelli, King of the Barbers, Barber of Kings'.

Suddenly, I felt Sweeney tense.

"What is it?" I asked.

He jerked his head in the direction of a fruit stall.

"The Beadle?"

He nodded.

The Beadle was a horrible man, strutting around town like he owned the place. I realised he must have had a part to play in Benjamin's arrest, as he was the Judge's partner in crime.

Then I realised Mr Todd was pulling the razor out of the holster.

"Wait!" I cried.

He glared at me, but put the blade back in its place. I sighed, relieved. It would have been terrible if he made a scene in front of the crowds.

Luckily, a boy walked on stage banging a drum. All eyes turned to him, including Mr Todd's. Crowds began to gather, interested in whatever this boy was selling. He tossed away the drum, and began to call out to the crowd.

"Ladies and gentlemen, may I have your attention perlease? Do you wake every morning in utter despair, to discover yer pillow is covered with the very hairs from yer head? Well, ladies and gents, from now on you can awaken at ease, coz I have in my hand something wot is both marvellous and rare! And it performed a miracle on me very head. "

He was a small boy, couldn't have been more than fourteen. With his last words, he bowed down, pulling off the bowler hat on his head, revealing long golden curls. The crowd laughed, but me and Mr Todd exchanged un-amused glances. There was something about the lad which attracted the crowds. He had a strong London accent too, which added to his charms.

He pulled a few bottles of yellow liquid out of his pockets and tossed them into the crowd, continuing to talk.

"Its name is Pirelli's Miracle Elixir. Give Pirelli's a try; I guarantee that you'll soon have to thin yer hair once a week!"

Soon the bottle reached Mr Todd. He pulled out the cork and wrinkled his nose in disgust.

"Pardon me miss, but what's that awful smell?" he casually asked me.

Deciding to play along I replied:

"Must be standing near an open drain."

He nodded in agreement.

The boy however, glared at us.

"Pirelli's will make slick hair instantly thick! I promise you that you'll soon have yer pick of the girls!"

Mr Todd was still examining the bottle.

"I wouldn't touch that if I was you, dear," I warned.

"It's piss!" he declared. The crowd began to laugh, including me. "Looks like it, smells like it. It's nothing but piss with ink."

"Let Pirelli's stimulate the growth sir!" cried the boy, trying to draw the crowd's attention back to him.

"Keep it off your boots sir, it'll eat right through," said Sweeney, passing the bottle on to the man next to him.

"Ladies seem to love it!" the boy cried.

"Flies do too!" I contributed. The crowd laughed harder at this, and to my surprise (and delight) Sweeney was smiling too.

The laughter stopped however when the curtains at the back of the stage were flung open and a tall man in a tight blue suit with gold embellishing stepped out. He was clearly Italian, a tall black top hat on top of his dark curly hair. A colourful silk cloak fanned out behind him and he held a gold cane.

"I am Adolfo Pirelli," he announced. "I am da King of da Barbers, da Barber of Kings, and I wish-a to know who says my elixir is piss! Who says zis?" He was clearly angry, but the Italian accent and bright costume added comedy to the situation.

All heads turned towards Mr Todd and me. I nudged him.

"I do," he said. "I am Mr Sweeney Todd of Fleet Street."

He began to push his way through the crowds so that he was standing in front of Pirelli.

"I have opened a bottle of Pirelli's Elixir," he continued. "And I say to you, it is nothing but an errant fraud, concocted from piss and ink. And furthermore 'Signor', I have serviced no kings, yet I wager I can shave a cheek with ten times more dexterity than any street mountebank."

I whistled under my breath. That was impressive.

Sweeney pulled his razor and an extra one (where he got that from I don't know) out of the holsters on his belt. He turned to face the crowd.

"You see these razors? I lay them against five pounds," he turned back to Pirelli. "You are no match sir."

Pirelli stared intently at the razors for a few seconds, then pulled away smiling.

"You hear zis foolish man? Now please, you will see how he will regret his folly!" he tore off his cloak, tossing it in a heap on the stage. "Toby!" he cried, banging his stick on the stage.

The little boy ran onto the stage and began setting it up, with two chairs and various items for Pirelli.

Sweeney walked towards me. I handed the sheet to him.

"Good luck," I smiled, winking.

As he walked back to the stage, he stopped. Turning round to face the crowd, he asked:

"Will Beadle Bamford be the judge?"

I groaned. He had a dangerous look in his eyes, and I knew this wasn't good.

"Glad, as always to oblige my friends and neighbours," lied the Beadle in his slimy voice.

Mr Todd was smiling as he walked towards his chair.

"Who wants a free shave?" he asked the audience.

Two men were picked from the crowd and sat down in the chairs that had been set down for them. I noticed Pirelli's sheet was the Italian flag. Show off. Mr Todd was handed a brush and a pot of shaving cream by Toby, as was Pirelli.

"The fastest, smoothest shave, is the winner!" cried the Beadle, blowing on a small whistle from around his neck.

Then Sweeney attached his strop to the chair and began slowly sharpening his razor, stopping every now and again to examine it. Pirelli spent just a few seconds sharpening his, before messily applying the cream.

I couldn't believe my eyes. Why wasn't Mr Todd starting? Pirelli was already shaving his customer, and Mr Todd hadn't even finished sharpening.

"It requires da flair, da passion for da art…"boasted Pirelli. Mr Todd had finally started to apply the cream.

"For if you slip, you rip da skin beyond-a repair. Zis talent, zis grace was given to me by God -"

Pirelli was interrupted by cheers from the crowd. I turned my attention to Mr Todd. He was finished! I had been so busy watching Pirelli I'd failed to notice that Mr Todd had even started shaving. He obviously hadn't lost his talent.

"The winner is Todd!" called the Beadle, after making a quick inspection.

I walked towards Sweeney, smiling.

He pocketed his razor, a rare smile on his face. Pirelli stepped up to him.

"I bow to a skill far greater than my own," he muttered, bowing low.

"The five pounds," replied Sweeney, gesturing with his fingers.

Pirelli grimaced, pulling a note out of his intricate velvet purse. Sweeney tucked it into his pocket quickly.

"May the Good Lord smile on you, until we meet again."

Sweeney ignored him, turning to face me.

"Well done," I congratulated him.

We turned to go, but I felt a hand on my shoulder.

"And who is zis?"

I turned slowly.

Pirelli was smiling at me, his long-fingered hand on my shoulder.

He opened his mouth to say something, but Sweeney stopped him.

"Get your filthy hands off her!" he snapped.

Pirelli frowned, but removed his hand. I sighed in relief.

"Come boy!" he cried furiously. The boy quickly came to Pirelli, and to my horror was greeted by a smack across his face.

"Let's go," Sweeney muttered, walking away.

I followed him obediently, eventually working up the nerve to say thank you.

"You're welcome," was his flat reply, not bothering to look at me or even show any emotion.

We were almost out of the market when he was stopped by a man.

"Congratulations Mr…Todd, is it? I assume you have your own establishment?" He was obviously relatively well-off, and to my amusement Mr Todd did not reply, just stared at the man.

"Yes he does, just above Mrs Lovett's Meat Pie Emporium on Fleet Street," I answered for him. The man nodded, satisfied, and walked away. I turned to Mr Todd, only to see him a few steps away, talking to…Beadle Bamford! I hurried over; I couldn't let anything bad happen.

"Your establishment is in Fleet Street you say?" asked the Beadle.

He was a short, rather overweight man, with blonde straggly hair and large yellow teeth. Not a pretty picture.

"Yes sir."

"Then you shall surely see me there before the week is out," he said.

"You will be welcome Beadle Bamford. And I can guarantee you without a penny's charge, the closest shave you will ever know."

The Beadle smiled, before strutting away to speak to one of the stall owners. Sweeney watched him disappear.

When Sweeney finally turned to face me he was smiling.

"I've got the Beadle," he said, his voice just a whisper.

"Not yet," I pointed out. "You still have to wait for him to come and see you…"

He silenced me with a glare.

"You've got him," I agreed.

Author's notes: So there are the first few chapters, thank you for reading this far. Please review, if the response is positive then I will continue to frequently update this story x