Leighton sighed, resting her chin on her hand and looking out the window, aimlessly watching the carriages and cars pass by. Her trial had ended early in the afternoon and she was too wary of Holmes to spend much time at the courthouse these days. She had seen him occasionally, always observing her closely, sometimes in the gallery of her trials, sometimes across the lobby of the courthouse. Always watching, always judging, always trying to put something together.

Leighton sighed, tugging on a strand of her blonde hair. She knew he'd found her out, that he knew her secret, she was sure of it. But what she didn't know what how he was going to reveal it. Would he tell her father? Would he announce it in the middle of the Old Bailey? She didn't think he was vindictive, per se, but from her interactions with him, she could conclude that he had a flair for the dramatic. Leighton rarely admitted that she was scared… but she was scared. Everything she'd worked so hard for would all be gone once that insufferably proud detective opened his mouth.

Her blue eyes tracked individual raindrops down the windowpane as she silently reflected on all this. The door opening shook her out of her thoughts. Joanna entered, her eyes slightly panicked. "Mr. Sherlock Holmes, miss."

Leighton stood up, her expression guarded, bobbing a curtsy at the man as he entered. He removed his hat and shook it slightly, drops of water flying everywhere, his smile easy. "Good afternoon, Miss Gardiner."

"Good afternoon, sir," Leighton replied carefully. "As you can see, my father isn't home yet."

Holmes shrugged. "I know. I saw him at the courthouse around an hour ago. He told me that you were learning a new piece. When I reminded him of how much I enjoyed hearing you play last week, he invited me to stop by and stay for dinner. He said you'd enjoy an audience." He flashed her a cheeky grin, gesturing to the piano. "So? Will you play for me, Miss Gardiner?"

There was no logical reason for Leighton to refuse and they both knew it. Joanna quietly entered the room with tea and poured while Leighton readied her sheet music. The only thing she could do now was play and hope that the song she played didn't match what she'd recreated at the prosecutor's bench. She began to play, focusing solely on the music, trying to ignore the man standing next to her, his elbow propped on the piano, observing her fingers closely. The only sound was the sonata Leighton had perfected the night before, supplemented by the gentle patter of raindrops outside. As the song ended, Leighton looked up at Holmes, raising an eyebrow.

"Well, sir? Your thoughts? I believe you said you were a music aficionado the last time you were here."

The detective applauded softly, his grin returning. "Brava, Miss Gardiner, exactly what I expected." Leighton felt a chill run down her spine. "If you'd allow me, I'd like to play something for you now." Leighton stood up, allowing Holmes to take her place. "I'm afraid I won't be nearly as talented as you, Miss Gardiner, but I'll do what I can." He exaggeratedly stretched his fingers out before placing them in the same position that Leighton's had been. "Do you remember that prosecutor I mentioned, Miss Gardiner? I'm going to attempt to recreate the pattern I observed him tapping on the table in court today. I had plenty of time to learn it, he was tapping nearly the whole trial."

Leighton cursed inwardly. She hadn't seen him at her trial today. She held her breath as he began to play. It was clearly the exact same melody that she'd just played, albeit slower and a little more clunky.

"You can't argue this as coincidence, can you, Miss Gardiner?"

Leighton sighed. The game was finally over. "I could, sir, but I'm sure you wouldn't believe me."

Holmes looked over his shoulder at her, his brown eyes unreadable. "So you're formally confirming my theory, then? Leighton Gardiner and Leigh Greenwald are, in fact, the same person?"

Leighton hesitated for a fraction of a second, then nodded. "Yes."

"Yes!" Holmes crowed, grinning. "I knew it! I knew I was right! I mean, I always am.

Leighton raised an eyebrow at his childish outburst. For a famous detective, he could occasionally be quite immature. "How long did you know?" She wasn't honestly sure that she wanted to know the answer, but she asked anyway.

Holmes stood, leveling his gaze at her. "I knew it from the start, from the second I met you in the courthouse. However, this week I met a defense attorney who has influenced me to find proof before jumping to conclusions. So I decided to wait and gather evidence before confronting you. However, I can safely say that this is one of the more interesting conclusions I've drawn recently. You were quite convincing as a man, Miss Gardiner." He laughed slightly.

Leighton couldn't help but smile just a little. "It was hard work, to be sure." She bit her lip, her unease still present despite her expression. Holmes seemed to sense her distress.

"Do you… do you think I'm going to reveal your secret?"

"I can't lie, sir, the thought did indeed cross my mind."

Holmes's eyes widened. "I would never, Miss- er, Mr.… ah, what would you prefer that I call you? It just feels a little strange now that I know…what I know."

Leighton smiled. "Leigh is fine when we're in private. I see it as a middle ground, as it were. But not in front of my father, Mr. Holmes, or you'll likely never see me at the Old Bailey or otherwise again." She didn't usually speak with this much levity, but she couldn't help it – she was so relieved.

"Well, Leigh, I wouldn't dream of telling. It fascinates me too much, and besides, you have powerful friends that you've fooled who aren't always on my side." Holmes's chocolate eyes gleamed with mirth and she could tell that he was completely sincere.

"I suppose you're right, Mr. Holmes."

Holmes began to pace around the parlor, gesturing wildly with his hands as he spoke. "But can you imagine the reaction your story would receive from the public if it were passed off as fiction? I could call Iris over to write it for the Randst, it'd sell in no time!" His excitement was growing so rapidly that Leighton was afraid she would be unable to calm him down.

"Mr. Holmes!" she interrupted him, struggling not to roll her eyes. "I'd prefer that my story not be made known to the general public, even as fiction."

Holmes sighed, throwing down his hands in defeat. "If that's what you want, Leigh, I'm in no position to oppose you." He took a seat, gesturing her over. "But I think you at least owe me the full story. My curiosity must be satisfied."

Leighton sighed, taking the seat across from him and pouring more tea for both of them. "Well, where should I begin?"

Holmes took the cup, smiling at her over the rim of it. "From the very beginning."