[Before they both slip inside, Ray's quick to check there's no one on the other side of that one-way mirror, wanting to assure himself of privacy while the two talk it out. He's not even sure what they're going to say, what needed to be said or what needed to happen, but after the closet and the awkward questions in the station, there needed to be something said. Something organised or arranged or at least discussed.

He's barely even surprised by Fraser's sudden outburst of guilt as Ray locks the door behind them and turns to watch his partner work himself up over something as stupid as a simple lie. Anyone would think he'd killed someone the way he was acting.]

Fraser!

[The file slaps down onto the desk near to Fraser's head while Ray drops into the chair opposite, elbows on the desk and leaning in just slightly, not entirely dissimilar to a stance he'd take when interviewing. Or interrogating. Maybe a few less threats of punching though, but that may soon come.]

Stop it, okay? Don't worry about it. It's nothin'. We got bigger problems than lyin' about turtle teeth. We gotta, uh. I uh. We gotta talk.

[Those three words are exactly what he hates hearing from anyone, but he can't think of any other way to say it. They do have to talk, about a whole lot of things.]