Simon & Luke & Fred
Fred took to coins from Luke's hand, one by one. She counted them as she did so, then paused to look at them - to inspect them closer. Simon had seen that kind of scrutiny before. She thought they were fake. When she spoke he nearly interrupted her, ready to protest to their authenticity, but all Fred said was, "thank you, Mr. Fox." It was in that moment that he realized her concern likely wasn't about the gold itself, but how some Fox had the means to scramble into the station late at night with no warning to pay bail in gold. He shut his eyes in a frustrated wince, blaming himself for not realizing the optics sooner, but bit his tongue to try and suppress anything that might heap on the suspicion.
She stood up, still looking at the coins, then nodded. "I'll get the form. You'll both need to sign it; there's a copy for us at the station and you will take one with you. Wait here. After we're done, you can collect your things from the night guard's desk."
Fred walked back into the bustling heart of the station, waving off possible interruptions that were coming at her from the small crowd that had gathered there. In the relative privacy of their situation, Simon finally vented his worry with a noise of utter frustration and shoved Luke gently away from him so she could scramble to his feet.
"She said the bail was 50 silver," he groaned, fingers in his hair. "Why'd you bring the gold!?"