A/N: I'll be mixing elements of the book and musical for this, mostly following the story line of the musical once we get there but following the characterization in the novel. Sykes will be a little more sympathetic (not too much) and Fagin will be much more of a villain. The story will begin with Nancy at around four or five.

It was nearing daylight and the sun was just creeping over the looming, dark buildings of London's east end. A crickety old man, in his early fifties but already aged into his seniority by the streets, walked down the path toting with him the night's earnings. He had collected a varied amount of jewelry and silver from the various robbers in the local taverns and street corners. He did not ask where it came from and they did not ask what he planned to do with it. For the little box in the corner was his own secret.

The sounds of uproarious young laughter reached his ears and he could tell he was almost home. Home was what he called the attic of an abandoned meat-packing factory, the lodgings he had for only about a year. But home was where his children were, a ragtag group of around ten boys. He took them in at a young age and they quickly learned from the older boys how to earn their keep. Leaving for the morning and coming back in the evening with pocketbooks and noserags they earned their bed and board. And the older they became the longer they stayed out and the more they brought back, eventually moving out and demanding something other then bed and board for their "work".

It was his living.

"Boys!" He shouted as he flung the door open.

"What you've got for us to eat then Fagin?" One shouted.

"Is that all you care about, Nipper you ungrateful little wretch?" He laughed, knocking off the boy's hat into the washing basin.

"Hey Fagin!" Jimmy Barker jumped down from the rafters.

"Where are your manners Jimmy, for god's sake? Scaring an old man like that."

"Look what I found hanging around the doorway." Jimmy said, not listening.

It was then Jimmy revealed what looked to be a little pile of hair and rags. Fagin knelt down and brushed some of the hair away and saw the dirt stained face of a young girl no more then four or five. Her white skin was caked in grime and her blonde hair was stringy and matted. Though her eyes, the two organs that no matter how much hardship they face can always remain in tact, were starring at Fagin in an almost cheeky way.

"What's this?" Fagin said.

"It's a girl." Jimmy said matter-of-factly.

"I know that, stupid boy. Go on then, get out and go find Toby, where's he been?"

"Toby said he's sick of giving an old rat his pickings and he's moving in with the whore from the Three Cripples." Jimmy recited.

Fagin groaned. "Well guess you'll just have to go earn double today, won't you?" He turned to all the boys. "That goes for all of you, get out!"

When all the boys scurried out, Fagin led the young thing, who had still not spoken a word, to the washing basin and began to scrub at her face. She didn't flinch even when he accidently scrubbed what he thought was dirt but turned out to be a terrible bruise on her neck.

"Sorry love." Fagin said. She just looked at him with that same cheeky glint in her eye. "Got a name?"

"Yea." She said.

"Well in due time, my dear, I should hope you'll tell me." Fagin said, taking another look at the bruise. "My god, that's terrible. How'd you get that?"

"My papa."

"Poor girl." Fagin sighed. "So young. Where's your papa now?"

"Home."

"You run off?"

"So what if I did then?"

Fagin laughed. At last some personality out of the girl, and a firey one at that. "Oh I was just making conversation my dear. There now, all done? You do have a nice pretty face. Those clothes won't do, not at all. Gosh, I don't know what to do with you. We haven't had a girl since Trixie was nabbed. Where's your mother?"

"Dead."

"Ah. Sorry about that my dear. Well, come on then." Fagin stood up and put on his hat.

"Where are we going?" The girl stood up.

"Not far my dear, not far." He took the young girl's hand and led her out of the attic. As they walked down the street, the girl did not say one word.

Fagin examined her as they walked. She could be quite a pretty little thing were she not so damaged and used. He had no idea what to do with such a young girl around and so he decided to take her to the local pub and see if he couldn't find her papa. There was not a twinge of guilt from the old villan's heart. He couldn't use a girl so young and so frail, and so there was no need for her.

He entered the Three Cripples which in the early morning hours was scarcely occupied with passed out drunks and whores stroking their hair. He approached the bar and lifted the young girl up to sit on it.

"Now you stay here for a moment." He smiled at her. "Hey Tom!"

"I ain't got nothin' to give to yer, sniveling old wretch." The bartender moaned. "Your boy Toby gone and run off with one of our best girls. You owe me quite a bit for her."

"None of that now Tom, none of that." Fagin smiled. "I was wonderin' if you might help me."

"The girl yours?" Tom nodded to the raggedy little thing sitting on the bar kicking her feet.

"Jimmy Barker brings her to me just now."

"Look, you old jew, if you think I'm going to take her in Dolly's place you've got another thing coming. She can't be more then four years old. We're not that kind of place, Fagin. We've got some morals you know."

"I was more wonderin' if you've seen her before. She says she run away from her father. He knocked around a bit badly, you see."

"Can't say I have." Tom said. "Now get her out of here."

At that, one of the Three Cripple's girls headed down the stairs, obviously having finished some of her business. She caught sight of the girl on the bar and approached the group.

"Who's this then Fagin? One of yours?"

"Yea, mine, May, mine." Fagin sighed and turned back to Tom. "I can't keep her, she's too small. Don't you think you could keep her around and maybe her father might come in?"

"Kids is bad for business, why do you think none of your boys is ever allowed in?"

"Hush up you two." The whore, May, turned to the girl and smiled. "Hey you, what's your name?"

"Nancy." The girl brightened up a bit.

"Why, 'ello there Nancy." May cooed. "How'd you like a bit of breakfast?"

"Yea!" Nancy smiled widely.

"Tom, get the girl some scraps at least." Tom rolled his eyes and handed the girl a plate in which she devoured. "Look at these rags, Fagin, surely you can do better for those who do all your dirty work."

"First, none of my boys do my dirty work. Second, she doesn't do any work. Third, I haven't got any clothes for girls." Fagin hissed at this insult.

"Well, I do." May went upstairs and came back with a small light blue dress that looked as if it once belonged to an upper class girl but was now slightly raggedy and dirt-ridden. She helped the girl into it and it fit like a charm.

"Ain't she a picture?" Tom smiled. "Now tell me you can't use her now."

Convinced, Fagin took the Nancy from May's arms. "How'd you like to come home with me, my girl?"

"All right." Nancy shrugged.

Fagin turned to leave, but before he did he turned to Tom. "But if a papa turns up, you let me know."