(See the end of the chapter for notes .)

Chapter Text

In Sans humble opinion, it was too damn early to be awake. True, the sun was up. And perhaps he had slept straight through what would normally be considered lunch. Luckily Sans had long since decided that he would live his life by his own rules.

But Papyrus had asked him to come watch auditions for the Christmas play that he and Mettaton were having at Frisk’s school. As a general rule, Sans never said no to Papyrus.

The coffee machine was making an odd grinding sound now. Sans watched with interest from the other side of the kitchen. Papyrus didn’t drink coffee but was supportive of Sans and would try to improve the machine in odd ways.

To his infinite disappointment, coffee began to fill the pot normally.

A series of barks cut through the silence of the house. Sans smiled tiredly at the sound and dug his phone out of one of the pockets on his shorts. The caller id told him that it was Tori. He accepted the call.

“hey tori,” he greeted. “are phones allowed in class?”

“Actually I’m in my planning period,” she answered. She didn’t seem to be in the mood for jokes right now. “Are you busy today, Sans?”

“nah,” he said. The coffee was done so he shuffled over to pour himself a cup. He had actually gone through the trouble of requesting the day off so that he could hang out with Papyrus and make some robot jokes until Mettaton gave him the boot.

“Then, if I may be so bold, may I ask you for a small favor?” she asked, sounding hesitant.

“’course tori,” he said, squeezing a healthy dose of ketchup into his mug. “anything for an old friend.”

“Then would you mind sitting in on the Parent Teacher Association meeting? I usually attend but I have a meeting with the parents of a student after school.”

“uh, how long is the meeting?” sans questioned, taking a drink of his coffee. He didn’t want to disappoint Papyrus.

“Oh it should only be a half of an hour,” Toriel hurried to assure him. “It’s just a vote on which play we’re going to be doing for Frisk’s grade. We need to decide before auditions.”

“that’s not a problem, then. pap asked me to watch the auditions anyway,” Sans explained.

“Delightful!” she exclaimed. “Well, I don’t want to bother you any further.”

“wait, tori,” sans said. “did you hear about the man that entered a pun contest?”

Toriel didn’t respond but Sans could practically hear her trying not to laugh.

“yeah, he sent in ten different puns. guess he figured one of the puns had to win. unfortunately, no pun in ten did.”

Toriel began to howl with laughter. Sans smiled to himself and drank his coffee, pleased with the reaction. It took a few minutes for Toriel to calm down enough to respond.

“There is also a story I would like to share with you,” Toriel said. “You see, there was a snail that wanted to become a racecar driver. When he entered the race, he was told that he couldn’t have a number on his car because he was just a snail. So he put a large S on his car instead.”

Sans smiled into his cup and made an encouraging sort of noise.

“When the snail began his first race, he was unexpectedly in the lead. All of the spectators yelled, ‘Look at that S-car go!’” Toriel finished, laughing.

Sans laughed too.

“good one, Tori,” he said. “i'll see you later.”

They said their goodbyes and Sans finished his coffee. He was contemplating pouring himself another cup when his phone let out a tiny bark. He checked his messages and saw a text from Frisk confirming that Sans would be attending the PTA meeting in Toriel’s place.

pretty sure you’re not allowed to text during class, kiddo he tapped back. He poured another cup and added the ketchup while he waited.

I’m at lunch.

Frisk

I’m in science class.



What are you studying

Genetics. I think I’m adopted

You didn’t hear it from me. I’ll see you after school

Can I go with you?

?

To the meeting. Mom always seems upset afterwards.

Yeah, you can come

Sans finished his coffee and rinsed the mug. True to lazy form, he left it in the sink when he left the kitchen. Toriel hadn’t mentioned anything about fighting but maybe she figured Sans wouldn’t care enough to get worked up.

She was probably right.

(She was not right.)