Author's Note: Yep, that's right. I'm posting this chapter even though I only received two reviews. So, sue me! ...don't actually sue me. I don't have the money to be sued. And I know this update should have been for Broken Heart Mended like I said it was going to be, but I couldn't help it! I haven't been in that much of a Captain Sparrow mood, and well, let's face it...I'm in a huge, HUGE Sweeney mood. What can I say? He may be a serial killer, but he sure is alluring! :D

ANYWHO...thanks to those who have taken the time to read this. Huge thank you to linalove and Dixie Darlin for their lovely reviews. You. Are. Awesome!

Dixie Darlin: I know, right? I was thinking about it the other day and was like, "I need to write this story!" There's another one out there, but it's the only, and I mean ONLY other xover between these two out there on . It was just more incentive for me to write this story :3

linalove: Thanks for the review, ma'am! I hope the information I have provided you will help you to understand Alice's part of the story better!

Well, that's all I have to say...I think...wait for it...yep, I'm good with it! And it has been sealed with blood-I mean, uh, ink! (anyone get that? anyone?) Enjoy!

Disclaimer: As much as I wish they were mine, I do not own Sweeney Todd or American McGee's Alice. Wait for it...nope...still don't.

Chapter One: Surreal

Alice walked down the steps of Houndsditch Home for the last time, witnessing as members of the bobby were posting up signs that the orphanage was closed until further notice. Those who were still unfortunate enough to not be adopted were sent to the workhouse.

With what little things she had, Alice continued down the street and into White Chapel Market.

Her hallucinations had slowly dwindled. She had returned to the fragile thing she was before the ordeal with Bumby, and London had returned to its dull and uninteresting state. No one seemed fazed that the psychiatrist was nowhere to be found. But she knew, with time, that people would start asking questions.

It's as if they don't care, she thought. Not that they should.

Alice continued walking, eventually leaving the White Chapel district and headed towards the docks. During her walk, she stopped by the various shops lining the streets, asking for employment. She knew she could easily get employment and lodgings from Nanny, her former nanny turned prostitute, but she'd rather not.

Unfortunately for her, everywhere she went refused to give her a job or at least direct her to any other places that were hiring, most of them reasoning that they didn't want a former lunatic working for them who could possibly relapse.

Working for Nanny just might be my only option, she thought in despair.

By now, Alice had made her way away from the docks and up a street she knew would lead to Nanny's new establishment, having gotten the address from her before her run in with her family's lawyer, Mr. Radcliffe. She was about to turn the corner onto the street when her stomach grumbled.

"Perhaps I should get something to eat," she said, more to herself than anyone else.

She looked around, hoping there was a stand or restaurant nearby that she could buy something quick. And cheap. She only had a few pounds left to her name after all.

And that's when she spotted it. Across the street from her, there was a small shop with an open sign. Above the door, it read, "Mrs. Lovett's Meat Pies".

"Perhaps my luck is taking a turn?"

Bringing her coat closer around her for some warmth, Alice made her way across and into the small shop, avoiding any oncoming carriages.

Upon her first look at the shop, Alice could tell the owner wasn't any better off than she was. Although it looked as if they had tried to clean up, she could still see the dust covering some of the shelves, the layer of flour covering the others, and some cockroaches scurrying around on the floor. She could make out cobwebs in some of the corners where the wall met the ceiling. There was some light coming from a kerosene lamp that was set on the table in the corner, but it wasn't much to light up the already dimly lit dining establishment.

If I didn't know any better, this could pass off as the Duchess' kitchen, she thought.

She shuddered at the memory. There was a time when the Duchess had a taste for mad women, and Alice didn't want to think about that particular visit to Wonderland.

The silence of the shop was beginning to get to Alice. She looked around the seemingly abandoned shop as if something might come and grab her, but was relieved to hear the sound of an iron door open and close.

Alice turned toward the sound and, as if by instinct, took a defensive stance. When she saw a woman, whom she assumed was the baker Mrs. Lovett, coming up around the corner with a tray full of pies, she backed down.

The woman seemed to be too cheery for her tastes.

As if finally spotting her, the baker squealed and put her hand to chest. This startled Alice as well.

"Sorry, dearie," she said. "You gave me a fright! I didn't really see ya."

Of course you didn't, Alice thought.

"You look absolutely starved ta death," the baker observed. Gesturing towards the table, she added, "Take a sit and I'll get ya a meat pie, eh?"

Alice nodded and tentatively took her seat. She didn't know this woman, or what sort of tricks she had up her sleeve. After what had happened in the past few days, she knew that she needed to be extra careful when around strangers.

"Mrs. Lovett, I presume," Alice stated.

The baker looked at the girl as she placed the plate in front of her and smiled. "That's right. Now tuck in."

One look at the pie warned Alice that she shouldn't even touch it. But her stomach was protesting too much, and too loudly. So, hesitantly, she picked up the pie and took a bite.

Alice felt as if she was going to be ill.

Not wanting to be rude, she finished that first bite, but couldn't help the grimace that followed after she swallowed.

Mrs. Lovett smiled. "It's alright, dearie. I know they're terrible. Care for some gin?"

"Tea, preferably," Alice said.

The baker shrugged. "Fair enough." She got up and went behind the counter to start making the tea.

Alice, meanwhile, took to fumbling in her coat pocket to reach her money. "How much do I owe you?" she asked.

Mrs. Lovett turned away from the tea kettle and looked to the girl. "Don't worry about it, Alice, dear," she said. "It's on the house."

Alice's eyes widened. "How do you—?"

The baker smiled. "Everyone knows your story, Alice, especially down here on Fleet Street." She grabbed the kettle off of the stove and put it on a tray, along with two cups, milk, and a cup of sugar. She walked over to where Alice was sitting and placed it on the table. "That, and I knew you're mother."

Alice watched as Mrs. Lovett sat down in front of her, a feeling of disbelief creeping in all around her. "You knew my mother?"

"Yes. Always had a cheery spirit, that one did. Used to be playmates, we were. Haven't spoken to her since she married Arthur."

"Really?" Alice asked, taking a sip of tea.

The baker looked thoughtful. "Now come to think of it..." She placed her head on her hand. "I did speak to her a few months before..." Mrs. Lovett trailed off, her expression one of sadness and torment.

She didn't have to finish her thought. Alice knew what she was speaking of.

"Well," the baker said. "That's all past now. 'Ave ta look after you now."

Alice nearly spit tea everywhere. "Beg pardon?"

The older woman sat up and headed for the counter. Looking at the younger woman, she asked, "Where were ya plannin' on stayin'?"

Alice shrugged. "I was going to stay with Nanny. I'd at least be making a living there."

Mrs. Lovett shook her head. "None of that, now. Selling yourself for pretty penny because a man can't get what he needs from 'is wife is not a way ta live," she explained. "I 'ave an extra room upstairs that you can use."

"But—"

"No ifs, ands or buts 'bout it, Alice, dear. You deserve better than the way ye've been treated lately. Time someone actually took care of ya."

Alice was shocked to say the least. "I appreciate it, but I won't be able to pay you for a room. I've only a few pounds to my name. They don't exactly allow former lunatics their inheritance."

"Don't worry your little 'ead about it. You can help down here or upstairs. I'm sure Mr. Todd could use some 'elp."

"Mr. Todd?"

"'E's the barber who lives upstairs," Mrs. Lovett explained. "You'll 'ave to go through 'is shop to get to your room, but it setup nicely."

Alice merely nodded. Who was she to argue with free food and lodgings for honest work? To do so would be illogical, something the Caterpillar would advise her not to be.

"Fair enough," she said, sealing the deal.

The baker grinned. "It's the least I can do, Alice dear." She gestured for the young woman to follow her. "Come on. I'll show ya to your room."

Alice polished off the last of her tea and stood up. She grabbed her meager belongings and followed Mrs. Lovett out a side door that lead out to the patio of the shop and up a set of stairs that lead to what she could only assume was the barber shop. The two women paused outside of the door, and the baker turned to Alice.

"Now, always be sure to knock first. Mr. T doesn't really like to be disturbed," Mrs. Lovett explained.

Alice nodded. "Of course, but there must be another way to get to my room."

"There is. A small staircase next to the parlor downstairs. But those stairs 'aven't been used in years. No tellin' if you'll fall through."

It does seem that falling through things has become a bit of a habit, Alice thought. She recalled the last time she had visited Wonderland after a year without any episodes. She had been backing away from a transformed Nurse Witless when the ground seemed to fall away from her.

"I'll 'ave ta get Mr. T to take a look at them," the baker continued. "Oh, well." With that, she turned around and knocked on the door.

On the other side of the door, both women could hear a gruff voice say, "Come in."

Mrs. Lovett didn't hesitate. She opened the door rather quickly and led the younger woman in.

Alice walked in, albeit a bit hesitant. She hadn't been to a barber shop since her father's last appointment, and that had been with a ridiculously dressed Italian named Pirelli. That had been almost eleven years ago.

She looked around the shop. It wasn't anything extravagant, but it wasn't completely barren either. The few things that made up the room were exactly how Alice had originally pictured a barber shop to look like. The only thing that caught her off guard was the fact that his bed was in the same room.

Why does he sleep in here? she wondered. Why not sleep in the spare room?

Her thoughts were broken by a gruff male voice asking, "Who are you? What are you doin' here?"

Alice looked toward the voice to see that it belonged to a lean man, who was at least a head taller than herself. His dark hair, with an unusual white streak to go with it, contrasted with his pale skin. He looked just as tired and worn out as she did, except for the eyes. While hers were a pale green, his were a dark brown, almost black color.

And I suppose this is Mr. Todd, she thought.

Before she could open her mouth, Mrs. Lovett took the liberty of introducing her.

"This is Alice Liddell, Mr. T," she said excitedly. "And she'll be living in the spare room we've got up 'ere. She agreed to earn her keep 'ere as well."

Alice folded her arms across her chest in an irritated manner. It wasn't that she didn't appreciate what the baker was doing for her, but she could very well introduce herself.

Turning to the fuming teenager, Mrs. Lovett said, "Alice, dear. This is Sweeney Todd, the barber I was tellin' you about. The best one there is 'ere in London."

"Pleasure," Alice said as politely as she could. She looked back at the barber, who gave her a slight nod.

She couldn't really tell, but he was just as irate as she was.

"Well, we best get ya set up, eh?" the baker said. "And then we can begin to clean downstairs."

Alice nodded. "Of course."

She followed Mrs. Lovett around a corner and into a relatively small room. Along one wall, there was a small bed with a nightstand next to it, and on the other was a wardrobe that resembled the one she had back at Houndsditch Home. There was also a small vanity set off not too far from the wardrobe, just across from the bed. There were absolutely no windows.

This resembles my room back at the orphanage and the asylum, Alice mused.

"I trust that ya can unpack by yourself? I need to get back down and finish the pies."

Alice nodded. "I can manage," she said. Looking towards the older woman, she added a small, "Thank you."

Mrs. Lovett offered her a small smile and then left, closing the door behind her. If there was one thing she liked about her at the moment, Alice liked that she didn't hover.

As she unpacked her family portrait and her other belongs, Alice could help the feeling of foreboding she tended to have when something bad would happen to either her or those around her. But she shrugged it off as nerves. To say that she wasn't nervous about being around other people since the incident with Bumby would be a lie. How does she really know that they wouldn't do something similar to her?

They seem decent enough, Alice tried to reason with herself. Being paranoid never did anyone any good. Only time will tell, and this time I'll be able to stop it if it happens again.

Satisfied that the room was how she wanted it, Alice left the room and headed through the barber shop. As she walked, she muttered a polite, "Excuse me," and headed downstairs to the pie shop. Maybe things would be looking up for her from now on. Maybe she could earn enough to maybe possibly buy her rabbit back from Radcliffe.

But all illusions, no matter how real they seem, come to an end…eventually.

A/N: Don't you love the sense of foreboding at the end? What's going to happen? I'm not sure...we'll just have to wait and see next chapter :D I hope you enjoyed it though!

And I may have picked this up from a friend (you know who you are ;3), but here is a fun fact for ya: Alice Pleasance Liddell, our favorite heroine/former lunatic, is based more off of Alice Kingsley from Lewis Carroll's lovable series Alice in Wonderland and Through the Looking Glass (he is also known as Charles Lutwidge Dodgson). Incidently, the original Alice, the little girl who Carroll based his books off of, was named Alice Pleasance Liddell. American McGee, creator of the Alice video game series, based his twisted version of Alice and her Wonderland on the books, using her actual name though. Curious, isn't it?

Well...what did ya think? Please let me know. I really do love feedback! It makes me feel warm and fuzzy on the inside! And don't forget to join me on Facebook, guys! Join me for updates, pics, and other sorts of goodies!

And...now I'm heading to bed! Good night!

~Xanthe :3