Author's Note: Hey guys! So...I'm in a huge Sweeney mood, so that's why this story is being update before A Broken Heart Mended. And I managed to finish this chapter at 3:30 in the morning where I am in the world. Yay me! I promise that I will update BHM next.

Anywho...huge thank you to those of you who have been reading this and adding this story to your favorites. Hugs and kisses to linalove, Malfoygirl18, ElleWillBite, CookieMonster1220, and SkittleMachine for the reviews. *sniffs* You are all awesome! If I ever make a Sweeney Todd-shaped cake, you would each get a piece of him...it (hehehe, get it?).

And a chapter dedication or drawing of a chibi Sweeney (your choice) for those of you who can guess the reference I made to a certain movie within this chapter.

And...that's it! Enjoy guys!

Disclaimer: I do not own Sweeney Todd. As is an obvious fact. But I sure wish I did...*sigh* I'd like him to sing me to sleep every night. That would be nice.

Chapter Four

"Signora—and Signorina—is Mr. Todd at home?" the ridiculously dressed Italian asked.

"Plyin' 'is trade upstairs," Mrs. Lovett answered. The baker looked over to the boy, who looked to be about thirteen. "Oh, would you look at it now. You wouldn't mind if I gave it a nice, juicy meat pie, would you?"

The man looked completely bored, much to Madeline's chagrin. "Sí, sí, sí, whatever you want."

How rude, she couldn't help but think.

The baker winked at the boy and walked down the rest of the stairs. "Come on, lad," she said once she made it closer to him. Despite the boy's age, he was almost as tall as Mrs. Lovett. As they disappeared into the shop, the baker added, "You're teeth are strong, I 'ope."

Madeline was about to join them when the gentleman blocked her way. She smiled as sweetly as she could, despite her annoyance.

"Sir," she said politely. "You will not be able to conduct your business with Mr. Todd if I remain an obstacle in your path."

The man removed his hat and gave her a slight bow. "Ah, but if you are that obstacle, signorina, then my business with Mr. Todd can wait." At this, he grabbed her hand and placed a chaste kiss there. A kiss that made her skin crawl with disgust.

As the gentleman rose, Madeline quickly removed her hand from his gloved one and gave him a quick smile, one she didn't mean in the slightest.

"You flatter me, sir," she said. "I do not deserve such a compliment."

"Ah, but a rare flower such as yourself deserves such."

Now Madeline just felt uncomfortable. She gave a slight cough, and then said, "Well, if you'll please excuse me, sir, I must help Mrs. Lovett in the shop." She wedged her way down the stairs past the man. "Those pies won't make themselves."

"Sí. Until we meet again."

Madeline gave him another polite smile and hurried into the pie shop. Once she closed the door, she breathed a sigh of relief.

In response, she heard a chuckle. She looked up to see the baker smiling.

"I don't know what you're smiling about," Madeline said. "I thought he'd never go up those stairs."

Mrs. Lovett gave her an innocent look. "Wot on earth are ya talkin' about, love?" she asked. She walked away from the counter and placed a pie in front of the boy.

"Here we are," she said. "Tuck in."

The boy did just that. He grabbed the pie and began to inhale it. The sight of it nearly made her sick, thinking of how the pie tasted.

Give the lad a break, she scolded herself. He probably hasn't had a decent meal by the look of it. Doesn't look like the man really took care of him. Then again, nowadays, who does?

"I like to see a man with a healthy appetite," Mrs. Lovett said, breaking Madeline away from her thoughts. "Reminds me of my dear Albert. Liked to gorge 'imself to bloatation, he did."

The baker, who looked at a picture of the late Mr. Lovett, had a far off look about her. It sent a shiver down her spine. She couldn't shake the feeling of there being another meaning behind what Mrs. Lovett said.

"He didn't 'ave your nice 'ead of hair, though."

That was the first time Madeline had noticed the boy's blonde locks.

"To tell the truth," the boy said with a mouthful of meat pie. "It gets awful 'ot."

With that, the boy pulled back what was actually a blonde wig and revealed a short crop of messy brown hair.

Why on earth would he need to wear a wig? Madeline wondered.

She shrugged it off, thinking nothing of it. Mrs. Lovett got up from the bench she was sitting on and began straightening up the counter area while Madeline began sweeping. A few minutes passed and she moved onto straightening up the parlor. That's when she heard it.

A loud thud came from upstairs.

What was that?

She quickly walked back into the shop where she saw the baker start banging a couple of bowls around.

"My, my, my," she said. "Always work to be done." To the boy, the baker added, "Spic an' span, that's my motto."

Did I just imagine it then?

Madeline, doubting herself, shrugged it off as her imagination and continued to clean the parlor. She walked back and started to walk up the stairs to sweep them when she heard the boy start.

"Oh, God!" he exclaimed. "He's got an appointment wif 'is tailor. If 'e's late, 'e'll blame me!"

Before Mrs. Lovett could stop him, the boy ran out of the side door and up the stairs to the barber shop.

Madeline watched as the boy left. She walked over to the window, continuing to watch him, and looked over to the baker.

"What on earth was that all about?" she asked.

"Who knows? Poor thing is scared out of 'is wits." The baker sighed, and then continued. "If only you 'ad been there a few days ago."

"What happened?"

"Well, Mr. T and me 'ad gone to the market trying to get 'im noticed as a barber. He challenged that gentleman you saw. 'Is name is Pirelli, and Mr. T revealed 'im as a fake. Awful man took it out on that boy."

Madeline nodded. "I see."

The cold cruel reality of the world.

At the sound of the door opening, she turned and noticed that the boy had returned, smiling like a Cheshire Cat.

"Mr. Todd said that I could have some gin!" he exclaimed.

"I'll get ya some, dearie," Mrs. Lovett said. "You just sit tight, alright?"

Madeline's eyes widened. "You can't be serious! A child doesn't need to be drinking. Especially at his age."

"It's alright, miss," the boy said. "They used to give it to us in the workhouse."

At the mention of the workhouse, she shuddered. Madeline couldn't imagine what happens there, and she knew she could have easily ended up there herself when she was younger.

When her parents were murdered.

Madeline shook those thoughts out of her head. She smiled at the boy and, deciding on seeing what the barber was up to, she opened the side door and headed out. She climbed up the stairs up to the barber shop and opened the door as soon as she made it to the top.

What she saw next disturbed her greatly, making her feel sick all of a sudden.

As she opened the door, she saw the barber standing over the Italian, whose face was bloodied as if he was hit repeatedly, and, flicking his razor open, held his head back as he drew the razor across the man's throat. She witnessed as blood splattered onto the ground and on Sweeney's sleeve. She watched with horror stricken eyes as her friend laid the body in the chest and closed the lid. It wasn't until he pulled out a cloth that was pushed into his pocket to clean his razor that he noticed that he had an audience.

Who his audience was caused his dark, unfathomable eyes to widen.

"Madeline?"

At him saying her name with a flicker of worry, her world went black.

xxx

She could hear the thudding of footsteps against wood. The sound of someone pacing back and forth. Madeline stirred, slowly opening her eyes in case the fall had caused her any trauma. Surprisingly, she found that she was still in the barber shop, and that it was night time.

I was unconscious for that long? she wondered.

Slowly, Madeline sat up taking in her surroundings. As she looked to her left, she noticed that it was the barber's pacing she was hearing.

"Mr. Todd?"

Her voice stopped him dead in his tracks. The barber looked away from his razor and towards his friend. Carefully, he walked towards her.

"Madeline," he said with enough care that it almost seemed out of character for him. Over the days, Madeline knew that his cold demeanor was due to being locked up in Australia all those years. She couldn't blame him really.

"What happened?" she asked.

Sweeney sat down at the foot of the bed. "You passed out," he muttered. "I had forgotten that you faint at the sight of—"

"Blood," Madeline finished in a whisper.

He nodded ever so slightly.

A brief glimpse over at the chest next to the door caused her to remember what had transpired earlier that day—the Italian coming into the shop to discuss business with Mr. Todd only to end up having his throat sliced open from ear to ear. Remembering all of the blood that was spewing from the gentleman's body and splattering onto the floor caused her to shudder in fear. When she looked up, she noticed that the barber's brow was knotted in worry.

"You killed him," she whispered.

"I had to."

Madeline shook her head, not believing what she was hearing.

The Benjamin I know would never do that, she thought.

He's not Benjamin anymore, her inner voice pointed out. He's Sweeney Todd now. He said that Benjamin Barker died in Australia, remember?

She didn't want to believe that her friend had become a killer. He may be a different man now, but that doesn't mean that she had to condone such actions.

Madeline noticed that the barber formerly known as Benjamin Barker slowly scooting toward her. He reached out to grab her hand, but she scooted away from him, hugging the wall.

"Why?" she asked. "Why kill an innocent man?"

"He remembered who I was," Todd simply said. "He tried to blackmail me."

"That doesn't mean—"

"He would have told the Beadle and then we would never be able to get to the Judge."

At that, Madeline froze. The fact that the Italian, who could have been a total stranger for all she knew, somehow knew who Sweeney was originally and would have stooped low enough to go to the law put her teeth on edge. If there was something she had learned from living with gypsies, it was that you always treat those you meet on your travels as family and do what you could to protect them. No matter who they were. Her parents had taught her that as well.

She remembered a motto that one of her great aunts on her mother's side had taught her. We would feast on those who would try to subdue us. Madeline always thought it was strange, but it always made since to her in some way.

Madeline was so lost in her own thoughts that she never noticed Sweeney scoot close to her and put his hands on her shoulders.

"Maddie?" he called out to her, trying to bring her back to reality.

He was about to start shaking her into her senses when she asked in a monotone voice, "What are you going to do with the body?"

The question caught him off guard, but he quickly recovered. "It's been taken care of."

Madeline looked up at him. "How?"

"We sent it down to the bake house. There, Mrs. Lovett will make the flesh into pies."

Her eyes widened. "What?"

"You heard me," Sweeney growled. "Desperate times call for desperate measures, pet."

Madeline ignored the pet name her gave her just now, only focusing on what the plan was, or seemed to be. "I suppose they do. I'm guessing that the Italian's body won't be the only one going into the pies, then?"

"No. By the time the Judge comes back here, I'll be ready for him."

"And both shops will gain reputations of their own. Cannibalism and murder." Madeline said the later with contempt lingering in her tone.

"That's the beauty of it, pet. We'll be careful who we choose." The barber rose from his spot on the bed and walked to the large window, where he usually liked to stand and think. Madeline learned that her third day back in London.

Madeline got up from the bed, now that her head wasn't spinning any longer, and joined him at the window.

"And what of me?" she asked almost timidly.

"What?"

"What are you going to do with me? I know who you are and what your plan is. Are you going to kill me and put me into a pie as well?"

Sweeney turned to his friend and looked her straight in the eye. He could tell that she was dead serious in her questioning of his motives.

"No," he whispered.

"Really?" she asked, both in relief and disbelief. "Why is that?"

"Because…I trust you not to."

To say that she was shocked would be an understatement. If she thought that he was a bit out of character earlier, then he certainly knew how to take her by surprise. But she knew that trust stemmed from the friendship the two shared, and would hopefully keep.

Madeline nodded. "I'm glad you say that. And I hope you know that I would do absolutely nothing to betray that trust."

Sweeney looked back out the window. "Of course."

"Good."

Madeline waited for him to say more, but when he didn't she turned away and started heading for the door. Until she was stopped by a cold hand wrapping around her wrist. She gasped at the contact and turned to face the barber.

"Where are you going?" he asked.

"My room. I need some sleep."

"Out of the question."

"Pardon me?" she asked incredulously.

"You're staying here, Madeline."

She could feel her anger starting to rise. "No, I'm going to my room."

"I don't think you heard me," the barber said, his voice grating. "You're staying here in the shop, where I can keep an eye on you."

"Are you crazy? I'm not staying in here."

By now, Todd's patience was running thin. He dragged Madeline over to his bed and shoved her onto it.

"I said, you're staying in here. That's my final word on the matter."

"Why? Is it because you think I'll go to the law? Tell them about you scheme to kill innocent people and practically resort the world to cannibalism? If that's what you're worried about, I won't."

"It's not that…"

"Then what is it? You don't trust me?"

A moment's pause, and then, "There are a lot of temptations out there, Madeline. Wouldn't want you to succumb to them."

"What the bloody hell is that supposed to mean?!"

"Stay here. I'll bring you up some food."

"Mr. Todd—"

Madeline never got to finish what she was about to say. The moment she opened her mouth again, the barber had walked out of the shop and locked the shop door, trapping her there. She ran up to the door and began slamming her fists against it.

"Sweeney!" she shouted. "Open this door!"

He looked at her through the window, giving her a slight smirk. With that, he walked down the stairs.

"Please! Sweeney! Open up!"

Against her better judgment, Madeline jiggled the handle, trying to get the door to budge. After several failed attempts, she let out an exasperated cry and ran to the bed. She laid there, holding onto his pillow and crying into it.

It was the first time in a long time that she felt so alone.

xxx

~Earlier that Day~

Sweeney watched as Madeline slumped to the floor, completely unconscious and pale as a sheet. In his usually cold demeanor, he would have thought the action pathetic. But somewhere in the back of his mind, where his memories of days as Benjamin Barker still existed, he remembered a vital fact about his dear friend.

The poor girl passes out at the sight of blood.

Growling at the fact that he had forgotten, Sweeney flicked his razor closed and knelt beside the unconscious girl. He picked her up and then quickly placed her on his bed. He threw the covers on her, knowing that she always seemed to be cold by the time she woke up. Only this time, he wasn't sure how long it would take for her to wake up.

The barber walked back to the chest that Pirelli, or Davey Collins as he revealed himself to be, was now rotting away in. He grabbed the cloth that was tied to his trousers and flicked his razor open again, cleaning it despite it being clean already.

He kept his back turned towards the door, hiding what he was doing. Not only that, but he wanted to keep an eye on Madeline, to make sure that she was still breathing. He might have changed after all of those years in Australia, but that didn't mean that he had to be completely heartless towards his old friend.

A moment later, the door to his shop opened and he heard an exasperated sigh coming from his neighbor.

"That lad is drinkin' me out of house and home," the baker said, taking a look around the shop. Putting her hands on her hips, she asked, "How long 'til Pirelli gets back?"

Sweeney turned around as he continued to clean his razor. "He won't be back."

Seeing the blood stain on his shirt, Mrs. Lovett gasped. "Mr. T, you didn't."

No response. Just a look towards the chest. The baker carefully walked over to it and opened it slightly. Upon seeing the bloodied body of the incompetent barber, she gasped and closed the lid quickly. Looking up at Sweeney Todd, she said, "You're barkin' mad! Killin' a man wot done you no harm."

The barber took a moment to examine his razor. "He recognized me from the old days. Tried to blackmail me." He looked towards the chest with disgust. "Half me earnings."

"Oh, well, that's a different matter then. For a moment there, I thought ya lost your marbles."

Mrs. Lovett opened the lid all the way and examined Sweeney's handy work. "All that blood. Poor bugger…oh, well!" She bent over Pirelli's dead body and looted his purse off of him. "Well, waste not, want not."

She closed the lid carefully and looked up. That's when she noticed Madeline's unconscious form.

"Is she—?"

"Relax, woman," the barber growled. "She only passed out. Can't stand the sight of blood."

"Ah. Well then…so, wot are we gonna do about the boy then?"

Sweeney looked at his razor for a second before saying, "Send him up."

"Oh, we don't need to worry about him. He's a simple thing."

"Send him up!" the barber exclaimed more demandingly.

Mrs. Lovett stood up straight and looked at her neighbor. Surely she could convince him to leave the boy be.

"Now, Mr. T, surely one's enough for t'day." She put on her best pouty face. "Besides, I was thinking of hirin' the lad to help run the shop. Me poor bones aren't wot they used to be."

Sweeney walked away from the baker, annoyed beyond all reason. "Alright," he said gratingly.

"Of course, we're gonna 'alf to stock up on the gin. Boy drinks like a sailor."

But the barber wasn't paying attention. He was looking out the window when a particular sight caught his eye. One he was hoping and so anxious to see.

"The Judge!" he exclaimed.

He turned to Mrs. Lovett, who stood there with her eyes wide.

"Get out," he told her.

He grew impatient when the baker didn't move.

"Get out!" he demanded.

She nodded and made her wait out of the shop. She was halfway out of the door when she remembered Madeline.

"But wot about—?"

"OUT!" Sweeney shouted.

Mrs. Lovett didn't linger any longer. She quickly headed out of the door.

Sweeney went to the vanity that acted as his desk as well. He tried to make it look presentable, but stopped when he saw the blood stain on his sleeve.

Shit, he thought.

He quickly grabbed his light blue jacket and slipped it on. And just in time too, because he heard the door open and close again. He quickly turned around and there he was. The man whom he hated with all his soul.

"Mr. Todd," the Judge said.

"At your service," Sweeney said as politely as he could manage. "An honor to receive your patronage, milord."

Judge Turpin was puzzled, to say the least. "You know me, sir?"

"Who in this wide world does not know the great Judge Turpin?"

And the Judge wasn't going to argue with that logic. He walked pass the barber, taking in his surroundings.

"These premises are hardly prepossessing, and yet the Beadle tells me that you're the most accomplished out of all the barbers in London."

"That is gracious of him, sir," Sweeney said.

Judge Turpin looked over and saw Madeline's sleeping form. "And who is this?"

"My wife," the barber blurted out. His own eyes widened at the response he gave the Judge.

Why did I tell him that? he wondered. Now he'll try to take her away from me as well. I've already lost Lucy to this monster; I don't need to lose my friend, too.

The Judge simply nodded. "She's a beauty. You should hold on to her while you can, Mr. Todd."

I plan on it.

Sweeney walked up behind Judge Turpin and removed his coat. "And what may I do for you today, sir? A stylish trimming of the hair? Soothing skin message?" He noticed the Judge's hesitation and urged him to take a seat. "Sit, sir. Sit."

"Fetch the pomade and pumice stone. A sprinkling of some French cologne, perhaps. But I believe a shave is in order first, barber."

"The closest I ever gave."

Judge Turpin sat down in the chair and Sweeney place a white sheet over him. He mixed up the lather and then spread it over the Judge's face. It seemed that he was taking too long, thus making Turpin impatient.

"If you make haste, when I wed, you'll be commended, sir," the Judge urged the barber.

As Sweeney sharpened his razor, he asked, "Who, may I ask, is your intended, sir?"

"My ward," he said, a smirk playing at his lips. "A pretty little rosebud."

"Pretty as her mother?"

The Judge became confused. "Huh? What was that?"

Realizing his slip up, the barber quickly covered it up by saying, "Nothing, sir. Nothing. May we proceed?"

And proceed he did. He played the part of obedient barber well. As he shaved away the stubble on the Judge's face, Turpin said, "You know, barber, if I wasn't about to wed and you weren't already married, I would take your pretty bride away from you. Sweep her off her feet, as it were."

It was then that Sweeney wanted to end the Judge's life, then and there.

You already did, you bastard, he thought. And you wish to take Madeline as yours? Over my dead body.

But, he knew he needed to be patient. He did tell Madeline that they would both be there when the Judge met his end. Sweeney glanced over in her direction. He hoped that she would awaken soon.

But, as he drew closer to being finished with the Judge, he knew he couldn't wait any longer. He needed to end it here and now. As he shave the last bit of stubble away, Sweeney drew his silver friend closer to Turpin's throat. He was seconds away from his revenge, seconds away from being free once more.

That is, until the sailor, Anthony, burst into the shop.

Now he and Madeline would never get their revenge.

A/N: There you go! Hopefully you guys can guess the movie reference correctly. I'm dying to draw a chibi-Sweeney (or cartoon Sweeney for those who have no idea what the hell I'm talking about)! They're so cute!

Don't forget to let me know what you think! I love feedback! Reviews are my drug...well, my second drug. My first drug is video games, in case you guys haven't noticed, hehehe. And don't forget to join me on Facebook. Don't be afraid to join the madness!

In other news, before I sign off for the night, I'm going to create another Sweeney Todd story. Yep! And this one's a crossover. I seem to be doing those a lot lately. This is going to be a crossover between ST and American McGee's Alice. If you don't know what that is, I have posted links to the Wiki pages for the series on my Facebook page. I'll also be adding those links to my profile page on this website as well :3 Summary guys: Best. Game. EVER!

Well...good night...or morning. *shrugs* I don't know.

~Xanthe :3