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[he drops his hand, and stares at it as Anya zips away—

—then wipes it on the leg of his pants with a guilty look, eyes darting, like a child attempting to erase evidence.

luckily, by the time Anya's back again, he's completely over it, because none of that ever happened in the first place!!!!!! ha!!!!!!

and what a spread. he looks on, dumbfounded, as she passes things through, mutely rearranging things to make space as more comes.]

You... didn't have to.

[why??? is she??? being??? so nice???]

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