"Circe doesn't share anything she doesn't have to. She said she'd found sharkbait, and that she was coming here for supplies. Nothing more."

"I'm not sure why she'd keep a secret. Though I guess I don't know much about anything around here."

"You mighta noticed she's got trust issues as tall as you are."

"I am very tall."

"She's very distrustful. Got good reason for it I guess, but still." Mischa eyes him. "Trusts you a surprising amount."

"I wouldn't know," Anders says, feeling like he's about to be accused of something.

"I suppose you wouldn't." Now Mischa's look turns hard. "You should know she's unavailable."

"Strange that you think that would be important information for me."

"Don't think I didn't notice you flirting."

"Something of a reflex for me. Circe didn't seem to mind."

"Call it a friendly warning before you get burned." Mischa's tone is blatantly not friendly.

"You saying that from experience?"

Mischa gives a hollow smile. "I-"

"Oi, sharkbait!" Circe's voice calls. "Come make yourself useful."

"You got it, chief!" Anders heads out, sparing Mischa one last questioning look.

"Don't think this is over."

Circe greets him by straight up throwing a parcel at him, wrapped in rope and brown paper.

Anders ignores Mischa, not sure where the jealous boyfriend trope really pays into what the hell Anders is doing here, and fumbles the package, only just managing to catch it. "Maker, I hope that wasn't breakable!"

"If it is, someone got my order wrong."

"Clothes, that notoriously breakable thing."

"Clothes?" Anders holds the package out. "Why are you handing me someone's clothes?"

"They're yours, dumbass."

"I... you ordered me clothes?"

"I don't know how things work where you're from, but round here we tend to have more than one or two sets of clothes."

"True enough...but this does imply you intend to keep me."