Faolan doesn't know quite how to respond to that at first. The look and the comment combined. He could care less about the evidence, really -- Lancelot is something of a last hope as far as that's concerned. If they find something they find something and if not he's not going to waste time being upset about it. He's given enough to go on thus far anyway. And he recognizes that Lancelot values him, of course he does, but to hear it said aloud so plainly is another matter entirely.

He slips in quietly behind the other man, taking up a guard what he assumes is far enough away but not too far that he won't be able to get to the other man's side quickly, if it turns out that he needs help. "Take your time," he coaxes Lancelot. "No one's in any rush." The woman the head belongs to -- whose murder they're solving of course -- least of all.