"Here are the extradition forms." Fraser passed Ray the requisitioned folder. "I apologize for the poor document quality. The Consulate's photocopier hasn't been the same since Turnbull-- well." He started to pull up a chair, but it almost slipped out of his grasp as Ray began to fumble for his glasses.

"Ravages of age," Ray muttered to himself, slipping his glasses on. "Least I'm still pretty."

"I think-- uh--" Fraser sat, banging his knee sharply against Ray's desk.

"What's with you today?" Ray stared.

"Nothing." said Fraser, grateful for the pain in his kneecap. I think glasses suit you.