"Aggie, you really gotta see this one."

Sophie's heels clicked a quick, familiar pattern across the floor of her sister's office as she entered without knocking. Agatha, sat at her desk with a stack of papers, didn't even bother to look up.

"New performer?"

Sophie dropped into a chair, grinning.

"You know it. For Avalon, no less. He's real good."

Club Avalon, the crown jewel of the string of speakeasies and vaudeville clubs that her sister owned. Sophie snagged the best of the best for Avalon. The club had a relatively small number of immensely popular acts, so any new addition was guaranteed to bring in crowds.

"Is he now?"

"Sure. Sings proper nice. Pretty, too. He'll have all the kids lookin' to neck."

"Right."

Agatha still hadn't looked up from her papers. Sophie frowned.

"Don't ya wanna hear? It's your club."

Agatha ignored her, signing off a couple of papers and shoving them into a folder.

Sophie sighed, leaning back into her chair.

"Killjoy." She mumbled.

"So's your old man." Snapped Agatha, moving onto her last few papers. "Pipe down for a second."

Sophie scowled and bit back a comment about them being sisters, waiting for Agatha to finish, as she eventually would.

Finally, Agatha set down her pen and turned to Sophie.

"You say he was for Avalon?"

Sophie perked up again, glad to be able to talk about him.

"That's right. The Evergirls will be glad of the new company."

The Evergirls was Sophie's semi-official name for their trio of flappers, Beatrix, Reena, and Millicent, their longest running act at Avalon, and, currently, the most popular. But from what Sophie had seen over the last few days, she was wondering if they might be soon replaced as a public favourite.

"What's his name?" asked Agatha, breaking Sophie out of her thoughts.

"Oh- Tedros. We're just gonna call him that. Easy to remember, yeah?"

"That's his real name?"

"Yeah."

Agatha's eyes narrowed slightly.

"Hmm. Might wanna change it."

Sophie blinked.

"Why?"

Agatha ignored the question, posing one of her own;

"When did he audition?"

Sophie stared at her.

"… Last week, I think? Thursday."

"He with anyone?"

"No."

"What was it like?"

Sophie frowned.

"Actually, he looked a bit rough around the edges when he showed up. Looked tired. Sorta grimy, as well. I wasn't convinced, but his audition was very good. Dolled up nice, later on."

Agatha was silent for a few moments.

"Tedros what?" she asked slowly.

Sophie stared at her. While her sister never took anything for granted, this persistent questioning was suspicious.

"You know him or something?" she asked.

"Tedros what?" pressed Agatha. "His surname?"

Sophie blew out a breath.

"He said Meredith."

Agatha leaned back, staring at her with that familiar, faint furrow in her brow. Sophie waited for her to speak. It was never wise to interrupt her while she looked like that.

Eventually, her sister rose, and retrieved her coat.

"I think I'll come with you tonight. Check out this fella."

"He sound that good already, huh?"

"No."

Sophie stared at her.

Agatha drew a pistol from her desk drawer and tucked it in her coat pocket, and suddenly she didn't look much like Agatha any more.

"He lied about his surname."

The second they entered the club, Sophie knew it was a good night for business. Club Avalon was raucous, bursting with patrons despite the relatively early hour, almost choking with the stench of alcohol and cigarette smoke that filled the room. Tonight's popularity was almost certainly down to the new act- not that Sophie was as excited about that as she had been before.

She had no idea what Agatha knew about Tedros that she didn't, or how she knew he'd given them a fake name. While she trusted her sister, Agatha had a frustrating habit of keeping information to herself that Sophie didn't appreciate.

She cast a glance at Agatha beside her- except, not really Agatha, now they were here. If she were Agatha, they wouldn't have gotten in without a password, and would be able to walk through here without stares and whispers following them.

Now it was Lady A walking beside her, cutting a harsh figure in her trademark red dress and black coat. Paired with her short hair and dark eyes of similar shades to one another, she was instantly recognisable, but simultaneously unapproachable, which was the way she liked it. Sophie could spot the new patrons almost immediately- they were the ones who shrank away or stared as they passed, unlike the regulars, who were used to their presence. One in particular stood out- a scrawny young man, stood awkwardly with a group of his fellows, who watched them pass with a wary gaze. He had a weaselly sort of face and very pale skin-

She'd seen him before.

Sophie groaned quietly as they sat down at their booth, and nudged her sister.

"That's the butcher's son- Hort. Got caught up in one of our last raids? Real stuck on me."

Agatha cocked a brow, watching the boy out of the corner of her eye.

"What's he here for?"

Sophie rolled her eyes.

"Couldn't say. Scare him a little, won't you? Don't want him trying to neck again."

Agatha sighed, but both women knew it took only a glance from Lady A to send him scurrying- which it did, easily.

Agatha smirked a little despite herself, watching him duck around to the back of his group.

"Poor little bunny. You're awful mean to him. He that kid you threatened to send Hester after?"

Sophie grinned at the memory.

"Yeah, same one. I'd nearly forgot."

Agatha smiled too, but now she was watching the stage.

"When's he on?"

Sophie shrugged.

"Not sure. Soon, I think." She paused. "You think he's a PI or something? Or a spy?"

Agatha tapped her fingers on the table, frowning-

But before she could reply, the lights lowered, the curtains were pulled back, and the air was suddenly filled with hollers and catcalls.

"Let's see if he's as good as you say he is, first." Said Agatha, and refocused her attention to the figure currently perched on the piano.

Sophie's stomach clenched, but who she was more worried about- her newest act, or herself- she wasn't sure.

He was good. Agatha couldn't deny it.

She watched him slide gracefully from the piano, and caught a slight, anxious, square of his shoulders, before he slunk across the stage to the microphone with graceful, careful steps, his heels snapping on the polished wood. Light glinted off the sequins on his scandalously short dress, and she couldn't help but note his long, stocking-clad legs and slender, gloved hands that took a grip on the mic stand. He was in almost a full face of makeup- full, scarlet lips and dark-lined eyes that emphasised the light colour of his irises. He was blond, with naturally curly hair encircled by a headband, and Agatha had to admit that he was remarkably good-looking- or had at least been made up to look that way.

He had a decent voice- maybe she would class it as better if she was feeling generous towards him, which she was not, at current. Sophie always did a good job of choosing talented performers- only, this time, it was possible he was not only just that.

Agatha saw him plant a hand on his hip and turn to saunter down into the crowd, which had gone from hollering to enraptured near-silence. Did she think Tedros was a private investigator? A police officer? A spy?

She watched him glide around the room and hoist himself up onto a table which several -clearly fried- girls were seated around, still singing loud enough for most of the bar to hear him. He leaned down and tilted a girl's chin up with a gloved hand, their faces nearly touching, and Agatha was fairly sure the girl nearly passed out.

She rolled her eyes as Tedros slid himself off the table and carried on his way, leaving the girl fanning herself vigorously and several others goggling after him, open-mouthed.

She had to admit it was impossible to tell. If he was a spy, he was very good at his job.

Then again, Agatha thought, watching him take hold of Hort's tie, causing the boy to go scarlet, that statement also applied if he wasn't any sort of spy at all.

Tedros took his sweet time getting around the room, but he somehow managed to keep interest, both with his voice and his other assets. Even Sophie, who'd hired him, turned a faint pink as he ran his hand lightly across their table as he finally returned to the stage to finish the song, the heavy scent of rose trailing after him. Agatha had to admit he was good, and he'd bring them good money; provided he wasn't trying to bring them down from the inside.

Tedros finished the song, and the silence was shattered by raucous applause, whistles, and cheers- Agatha saw several roses thrown onto the stage for him, and several people still looked to be in some sort of trance. As he took an elegant bow for the crowd and collected his flowers, he straightened back up, and looked out into the crowd-

And met her eyes.

For a second, neither of them moved.

Then Tedros grinned and winked at her.

Agatha raised an eyebrow, and she could have sworn she heard him laugh from where she was, before he took another bow and swished away, sequins following him out.

After the bar had returned to its normal level of rowdiness- which, Agatha had noted, had taken a good while longer than usual- she followed Sophie backstage, where they headed for the dressing rooms. Sophie stopped in front of the second door and knocked lightly once or twice, but she didn't wait for a reply before swishing inside, Agatha following silently behind.

The dressing room doubled as a bedroom for the acts, but always seemed to be more functional as a sitting room- a little too small to be a comfortable living space, and often heavy with whatever perfume the performer was favouring that night. Agatha generally found them unpleasant, but Sophie insisted they were fine.

Tonight, however, both of the small windows were open, and several lamps were on, making it much more breathable.

Tedros lounged on one of the two sofas, still in his stage clothes, but his heels were visible, tossed haphazardly under the vanity, and his gloves were draped over the mirror. Agatha studied him impassively as she closed the door behind her and stayed stood there, even as Sophie trotted forwards to be illuminated by the lamplight.

Their newest performer grinned at her, a lopsided, self-confident smile which she did not return, and greeted them cheerfully.

"Hi, ladies. What can I do for you?"

Sophie, of course, giggled. Agatha resisted the urge to roll her eyes. He might not have been sauntering around the bar and making girls faint now, but it seemed that he was still a charmer off the stage- or at least fancied he was.

"You did fabulous, tonight, Teddy." She simpered.

Oh, for god's sake. Teddy? Had she got a concussion? Why in God's name would you ever come up with such a stupid nickname?

Agatha sighed quietly and leaned against the door, praying Sophie would get to the point soon, as Tedros bowed his head a little in an admission of the compliment, letting Sophie continue to talk.

"We wanted to come and see you- have a chat, you know?"

Tedros flashed that stupid grin again. Agatha considered firing him on the spot, purely out of spite.

"I'm real honoured, I gotta say. Come sit down."

Sophie smiled and did as he said, but Agatha remained where she was, stood by the door.

If Tedros cared, he didn't show it. Sophie was already making herself at home- she whipped a cigarette packet from her pocket and offered it to Tedros, but he waved a scarlet-nailed hand.

"No, thanks. Don't smoke."

Sophie rolled her eyes, lighting her own.

"Don't smoke, don't drink- if you weren't dressed like that, darling, I'd suggest you didn't fit in here."

Tedros smiled dryly, scuffing a stocking clad foot on the wood floor.

"You hired me, doll."

Sophie giggled.

Agatha promptly decided that she had heard enough.

She cleared her throat, watching Tedros carefully.

"I didn't come here to watch you flirt with my sister, Mr…?"

"Meredith." Tedros supplied promptly. His face looked perfectly composed, and to anyone else's eye, it would have seemed he was telling the truth. But Agatha watched his throat bob very slightly, and his fingers tighten subtly on the strap of his dress, and she knew she'd been right.

However, Tedros continued on, unconcerned.

"But you can call me whatever you want, baby."

He winked at her. Agatha gave him a withering look, which Tedros didn't seem the least bit cowed by- he just laughed.

"Well then, what did you come here for?" he asked. The question was posed mildly enough, but Agatha caught the same square of his shoulders from earlier on. Nerves again- but this time, for something else. What?

Agatha looked at him carefully for a minute. She didn't think he was stupid. He probably knew- or, at least, suspected- who she was. He was just acting like he didn't care.

Tedros stared back, casually drawing a rose from the vase near his seat as he did so- presumably one of the ones he'd been thrown- and twirling it idly between his fingers.

Trying to distract her. Hiding his nerves, by giving her something else to focus on.

Clever, but not clever enough. Not to fool Lady A.

"How long you been using Meredith as your surname?"

May as well start blunt, she reasoned. It often worked well.

But Tedros merely raised an eyebrow.

"Far as I know, folks use their surnames from when they're born."

"Sure, most folks do." Agatha agreed. "But if you were doin' that, I'd be addressing you proper, not as Tedros Meredith-"

She leaned forwards a little, just enough to make him tense.

"-but as Tedros Pendragon."

Tedros's fingers caught, and one of the thorns nicked his hand.

This was the part Agatha hadn't told Sophie- she'd known his real name the second she'd told her his fake one. There was little in the city that got past her. But getting someone to admit it was more important than her knowing.

"I don't know what you're talking about." Said Tedros, as blood welled from the cut and spotted on the floor. His speech had changed. Precise. Proper.

Said like a proper gentleman.

Sophie stared at them, stunned.

Agatha leaned back. She'd get him to admit it, she was sure. But his job was relying on how he did it, and what else he revealed.

"Don't you? I heard about it weeks ago- Mr Arthur Pendragon's son, sneaking out of their townhouse every night, stealing into speakeasies and vaudevilles- most of 'em mine, I might add- looking for a nice job under a fake name."

Tedros didn't move. Agatha carried on.

"He left for good last week, I hear. Arthur didn't seem to notice much."

She shook her head. Tedros bit his lip nervously, smudging his lipstick, but his gaze remained steady nonetheless.

"You-"

Agatha cut him off.

"If you're gonna pretend to be someone else, baby, you don't use your runaway mother's maiden name."

That got him.

The colour was all but gone from Tedros's face now. Slowly, but still, gracefully, he unfurled himself from the sofa and slid across the room to retrieve a handkerchief, presumably to avoid staining his dress with blood. Agatha waited patiently.

It wasn't until he was sat down again that he looked back up at her, setting his jaw. Agatha had to admire his bravery. Most people would have still been denying it.

"What are you gonna to do to me, then?" he asked. Quiet. Anxious.

Agatha looked at him.

"You admit it?"

"There any point in denying it?" Tedros asked, trying to struggle back into his old manner and not really succeeding.

"No."

"Then, sure, it's true."

Sophie hadn't uttered a word, and it seemed she still didn't know what to do. She was onto her third cigarette, though. Nerves.

Tedros had lost all his bravado now. Agatha suddenly noticed how young he looked, even with all his makeup on- he was probably her age. The stem of the rose in his hand had snapped, and she could see he was sweating.

Agatha had a sudden urge to laugh. He wasn't a spy. He wasn't a threat. Didn't drink, didn't smoke- she should have seen it right away. He was just a disenchanted rich boy who liked to flirt and sing, looking for an escape from his austere lifestyle and dismissive father. He was no police investigator.

"You gonna fire me?"

Tedros's voice broke back into her thoughts, and she refocused on his anxious face.

"I know who you are." He added.

"Oh?"

"You're Lady A. You own this place, right?"

"Right."

The unspoken bit, that he clearly knew, was the part about her being a mob boss. She saw his eyes dart to her pockets, no doubt remembering rumours of her proficiency with guns.

She left him to squirm anxiously for a few seconds and then turned to Sophie.

"You hired him, yeah?"

Sophie looked uncomfortable.

"Uh-huh. I didn't know he was using a fake name, but- oh, you're not going to fire him, are you?"

Agatha looked at her for a second. Then she lifted one shoulder in a shrug.

"If he maintains the performance value I saw tonight, we ain't gonna have a problem."

Tedros's stocking clad feet slipped on the floor, and he almost fell off the sofa. So much for elegance, it seemed.

Sophie sighed, relieved and also a little exasperated.

"You could've made that so much shorter."

"What's it that you say? It's showbiz?"

Sophie laughed.

Agatha turned back to Tedros, who didn't seem to be able to decide if he wanted to smile or cry.

"But you were nervous tonight. Don't let it show, next time."

Agatha, motioning for Sophie to follow her, reached for the door-

"Wait!"

She caught the heavy scent of the rose perfume from earlier, and Tedros's hand caught her wrist. She turned back around to meet his gaze, realising how close together they were stood. Now she realised how, without heels, he was more or less the same height as her, albeit a lot broader in the shoulders. Funny. He'd managed to look smaller when he'd been performing. Now they were a lot closer, she noticed how clear his eyes were, as well.

Some of his hair was in his eyes, and Agatha had a sudden impulse to move it-

Then she realised he was talking.

"I… um… thank you." Tedros managed. "For lettin' me stay, I mean. What can I do? To repay you?"

Agatha looked at him for a second.

"Don't ladder your stockings tomorrow. It's unprofessional for a fella like you."

Bewildered, Tedros looked down at his legs as Agatha and Sophie left, presumably noticing the rip Agatha had just seen.

Sophie tutted at her as they headed back down the corridor, and went to speak-

They heard a mutter behind them, quiet enough that they nearly missed it;

"You noticed it."

Agatha sighed, and turned to Sophie, speaking loud enough for anyone who might have been still standing at their dressing room door, to hear it;

"Sophie, when you see him tomorrow, remind Mr Meredith that he ain't on a permanent contract."