Sans had nearly shit himself when he saw (Y/N), hair sparkling from the rain water and a nervous smile on her face. It was adorable.
Not that he would tell her, of course. No, he'd act affectionate like usual, play with her a little, maybe give her a scare if she went out of line. This, this horrible feeling in the pit of his gut, it would never be explained to her. He was having a hard enough time explaining it to himself. That tightness in his stomach, the fluttering in his chest, the way he strove to make her laugh and relished in her smiles (however red faced or sarcastic they were), he could only draw one conclusion. But god damnit, he was a scientist, same as his father. He was intelligent, if he really wanted to, Sans was sure he could break down the chemical process enough to find a different outcome. Couldn't he?
Maybe. It was in that first moment, when he had first seen her. The cops had rounded in on him, his back against a wall, and she was there. Eyes bright with determination, stance firm, she was there. A gun in her hand, but even without it she would still be threatening. He was within her reach, could easily have his knife to her fragile neck and cut, let the crimson blood just flow flow flow flow flOW UNTIL SHE'S DEAD AND GONE, THAT FILTHY SINNER- he was letting his madness get the best of him. So much so, in fact, he hadn't even noticed the girl of his thoughts snapping her fingers an inch from his nose.
He flinched in surprise, leaning back against the rail. She was scowling very slightly, red still tinging her cheeks. "Sans, have you even been listening?"
He scrambled to come up with a response; thankfully, he was already ready. "Sorry, I was distracted by your beauty."
There was the blush he loved. She stammered for a few seconds, before hitting his arm and leaning against the wall next to him. "Shut up, you douche," she mumbled.
He giggled and threw an arm around her shoulders. She squirmed, snapping something about just getting dry; he was still pretty wet. Which led to only one course of action: "You want me to get you wet, give me about five seconds."
Her eyes went wide, her face just as red as when he'd caught her earlier. She stuttered, seemingly at a loss for words. He laughed even harder, doubling over and clutching his sides. The door binged open, and (Y/N) stormed out. Sans giggled, wiping his eyes, and followed her.
(Time skip via psychotic memory loss of unimportant events)
He pulled up in front of an Olive Garden. The ride had been mostly silent, with her staring out the window, probably to force the red away from her cheeks. He considered trying to get her to talk, but decided against it; there'd be plenty of time to talk later.
Which was now.
They both sat for a few seconds, (Y/N) flinching slightly as she snapped back, Sans' nerves tickling at his stomach. He tried to think of a joke, bad pickup line, something. Nothing came to him.
(Y/N) was the first to move, unbuckling herself and carefully opening the door. Sans did the same, practically ripping the seatbelt off and throwing the door open. The cop looked at him oddly over the roof of the car. He grinned at her, slamming the door shut.
She eased the door shut and followed after him, chewing on her lower lip. Sans couldn't help but grin to himself; she looked adorable.
The rain had petered out, becoming a slight drizzle, so he didn't bother with his hood. He strode to the door and pulled it open, waiting for (Y/N). She paused a few steps away from him, eyebrow raised. His grin widened as he gestured for her to go through. His chest was doing that damn fluttery thing, but at the moment he couldn't bring himself to care. She catiously walked through, stiffening considerably once she was past him. Probably thinks I'll backstab her. Quite literally, I guess. He allowed the door to swing shut and followed her, still grinning.
No information was distributed to the public about the killings. Almost no information, anyway. While the police had told the media the deaths were commited by the same perp, no name or picture was ever given; he had seen to that. Only people within the department knew his name and used the nickname (Y/N) had coined. He had been rather amused at the thought of being a skeleton; he had taken a liking to them when he was younger, why he didn't know, and still loved them to this day.
He looked the hostess in the eye, still grinning, and asked for a table for two. Sans loved the fact he could do this, speak to people with them unaware of who he was. Beside him, (Y/N) played with something in her pocket, probably a knife or handgun.
She gestured a man over, not much taller than Sans. He had brown hair and a cowlick, brown eyes, slim frame. Sans could easily slaughter him, but there wasn't a reason to; yet.
(Y/N) squealed, hugging the man's arm, which threw Sans for a loop. The man looked confused for a moment, before grinning and hugging her back.
Sans did not like him.
"Feliciano, where have you been?" (Y/N) asked, finally letting go of him.
Sans tuned out of their conversation, instead working out who would pay for their sins next. Muffet had been his target; she was far too greedy for his liking. If Frisk had her, though, then he'd have to hold off on that.
By the time he snapped back into the conversation, they were at the table, and Sans was sitting across from (Y/N). She was giggling at something Feliciano had said. "So, what do you two want to drink?" Feliciano asked, pulling out a pink notepad.
"(Favorite drink), please," (Y/N) hummed, leaning back in her chair.
"Water," Sans grumbled, burrowing into his wet jacket. It was cold and unpleasant, but he didn't have a whole lot of choices.
Feliciano nodded and walked off, humming a tune under his breath. (Y/N) pulled off her jacket and put it on her lap, playing with the fabric. "What's up with you?" She asked, head tilted to the side. A loving look of concern was on her face. Damn it, why is she so cute?
He mumbled something about spaghetti and looked down at the tablecloth. She rested a hand on his arm, bringing him to look up. She grabbed his hand, brows furrowed, (Hair color) hair sparkling from the raindrops weaved through it. He couldn't bring himself to lie to her. "I don't like that Feliciano. He talks too much, and he's all over you, and-"
"Sans, are you jealous?" She asked, incredulous. He nodded, looking down again. Embarrasment churned in his stomach, his ears burning. "Sweetheart," she cooed, grinning, "Feli is like my baby brother, it'd be hella weird if I was gonna date him or something. Now, his brother. . ."
Sans scowled, glaring at her. She laughed, bowing her head. Looking back up at him, (eye color) orbs shining, she squeezed his hand. "Relax, Sans. Lovino is a huge asshole, and so am I, that'd be too much sass if we started dating. Though, it'd be hella fabulous, it'd be rather overwhelming. That, and he has a boyfriend. Antonio and him make such a cute couple, my OTP. One of my many OTPs, but that's not my point."
Feliciano walked over, setting down their drinks. "(Y/N)-chan, Lovino is not dating Antonio."
"Feli-chan, yeah he is. He's gay, babe," (Y/N) purred, grinning sadistically. To see that grin, it excited him greatly, for a reason he couldn't explain. She pulled out her phone and Feliciano a picture.
"Wh-why do you have that?!" He squealed, cheeks bright red.
She laughed, hand resting on her stomach. "Blackmail purposes, Feli-chan." He stammered something about breadsticks and scampered away.
"What in the hell did you show him?" Sans asked, raising a brow.
She giggled and put her phone to the side. "Well, let's just say Lovino sent me a very interesting picture on accident, one that was supposed to go to Antonio."
He chose not to ask further, but his mind was still churning. "Okay then. Remind me not to send you pictures."
She rolled her eyes and grinned. "Alright. Anyway, Lovi is gay, and Feli is dating Ludwig, so you don't have to fret. Though, Alfred. . ."
He hit her arm, pouting playfully. She laughed again, hiding her face behind her hand as she did. "He's dating Arthur, according to Kiku, but how much truth is to that, I couldn't say."
"I'll pretend to have understood any of that'" Sans said, causing (Y/N) to laugh again.
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". . . so, we were all standing around the guy, and Freddy whispers, 'how did they fit that up his rectum?' Understand, this was longer than my arm, and thicker than a trombone. There were no signs of internal damage, so we were clueless. Chica slides up next to me, and I shit you not, says, 'Freddy, you have lots of experience shoving things up your ass, how'd he do it?' We all started choking, and Freddy's just glaring at us all. It was beautiful." (Y/N) had been telling Sans a story of one of her first cases. Admittedly, he had thought the lunch would be full of awkward silences and probing questions, but he found it easy to talk to the detective.
Feliciano came over, taking the bill with him (Sans had paid, despite (Y/N)'s objections). "Hey, Sans?" The girl of his thoughts was looking at him shyly, head slightly bent. "Uh, thanks. I had a lot of fun, surprisingly."
"You saying you thought I wasn't fun?" Sans jokingly asked. She hit his arm, laughing again. Feliciano came back to bid them goodbye, hugging (Y/N) (much to Sans' aggrivation). The two slowly walked out of the restaurant, holding hands for whatever reason.
It seened almost to good to be true. The sun was shining, birds were singing, everything seemed right.
Isn't it at the best of times that things turn to shit?
(Y/N)'s phone rang. The detective released Sans' hand, taking a step to the side. "Aye, Tori, what's up?" Her expression changed from one of joy to one of horror, face pale and eyes hollow. "A-alright, I'll find her." She hung up, trembling.
Sans quickly hugged her, sheltering her from. . . Whatever it was that was scaring her. "What happened?" He whispered.
"Um, Frisk has multiple personalities. The other one rarely comes out, but when they do, i-it's not pleasant. Very, very violent. And, uh, they've taken hostages." Sans felt a chill run down his spine, leading him to grip the cop harder. "Sans, they have Papyrus, Muffet, and Dimitri."
Someone's gonna have a bad time.
(A/N: Hey guys! I really wanted to do a whole date thing, but I figured I should get y'all a chapter. The plot is picking up, dears. Who will live? Who will die? Will we get to see Sans be psychotic? Who knows! Not me, that's for sure.)