Chapter Text
“And as you can see here,” your boss droned on as she pointed to the projected image of a graph, “There is a dramatic boost in sales as compared to last month. If we continue at this rate, our company will boost its-” You stopped paying attention after a while. This happened every week since the company began. They sat all employees down in a cramped, un-air-conditioned room and turned on a little slideshow of that month's sales profits. Due to the company being a much-needed supplier of monster food, sales have been booming, resulting in the rapid incline of the company. With the introduction of monsters to Ebott City, certain companies began to pop up, quickly overtaking current ones as demand for certain products rose. Your boss, not missing a chance to hop on the money grind, switched over to monster food almost immediately. This resulted in your company becoming one of the top producers.
“(Y/N)! Are you paying attention?” The annoyed voice of your boss called, causing you to raise your head from your arms. The entire room had turned to look at you and you flushed in embarrassment.
“No ma’am. My apologies.” Your boss stared at you, clearly annoyed for a few seconds before huffing and turning back to the image in front of her. It had changed from the boring graphs and instead displayed a quaint little farmhouse. It seemed in good condition too, someone had been taking very good care of it.
“Then allow me to reiterate. Pay attention this time, everyone. She glared at a few other people in the room before beginning her explanation. “This property is known as ‘Bare Bones Ranch. It is a 100-acre plot of land owned by a mister Sans Gaster. According to the information, we have gathered, he and his family have been behind on several of their payments on the land. If they cannot pay up, they will have to be evicted from the premises.” Now you were interested. Where was she going with this?
“Now I'm sure all of you are aware of our current domination of the Monster Food production business. While our current rise is wonderful, I'm afraid that production has fallen a bit short several times. It is simply a matter of not being able to produce to meet demands.” She once again points to the farmhouse.
“With this plot of land, we could have the means to produce more. Feed more people. Unfortunately,” she sighed, “Mister Gaster has been very firm in his statements of not selling. Even when we offered nearly triple the property’s worth, he refused to budge.” Her eyes scanned the room as she looked away from the monitor and out into the crowd of tired employees.
“I know this is a bit unprofessional, but we need this plot of land. Not only would it boost our revenue, but we could provide to more people, especially since more and more people are buying our products. I need someone willing to convince mister Gaster that selling his property would be the best course of action for him and his family.” She cast her gaze over the sea of underpaid workers, frowning when no one raised their hand to volunteer. Sighing, she turned the projector off and closed her file. “If anyone would like to take the job, please let me know by Monday. You are dismissed.” You would have groaned in relief if she wasn't still in the room.
Today was Friday, the day before you could go home and relax for the weekend. Well, relax the best you could with your boyfriend and his friends screaming at one of their games or each other. You would bring it up with him, but every time you did he would promise to be quieter and then go right back to shouting, so you gave up asking at a certain point.
You arrived at your dingy apartment, shared by your lovely boyfriend, Dylan, and immediately set your bag down. All these files were starting to wear you down. Kicking the door closed, you regretted making such a noise almost immediately as you heard the voice of your boyfriend float down the hall. “Babe! You're home! Can you make me some food? I'm kind of in the middle of something!” He called, most likely busy with his game. He was never any good at it so it astounded you how he could keep playing it over and over again, even while he was getting his ass handed to him by literal 12-year-olds.
Sighing in annoyance, you kick off your shoes and head to the kitchen. After such a long day, you couldn't be bothered to make a meal from scratch so you pulled open the fridge and rummaged around inside. After a bit of rearrangement, you pulled out a foil-wrapped burrito. Pulling the foil back a bit and taking a sniff, you concluded that it was still edible. Popping open the microwave, you set it for 30 seconds when an annoyed “BABE!” filled your ears. Rolling your eyes, you waited till the obnoxious beeping signaled the burrito was done and pulled it out. Placing it on a plate, you balled up the foil, tossed it into the trash, missed, and then carried your findings to your boyfriend.
Pushing open the door to his room, you physically recoiled as the smell of unchecked body odor and sweat filled your nose. Sucking in a very unappreciated breath, you stalked forward and handed Dylan the plate. He looked at it, back to the screen, back to the plate, and then turned to you with a rather curious-looking expression. “I didn't want a burrito though…” he whined, pushing the plate back to your hands. You simply rolled your eyes and headed out of the room, hearing the stomp of your boyfriend's foot as he places the headset back on. A call from your boss scolding you for catering to her son's every wish was sure to come in later.
Heading to the bedroom, you let your feet drag a little in anticipation of the much-needed rest that your job and Dylan had deprived you of. Pulling back the thin blankets, you crawled in and almost instantly fell asleep. Perhaps you were more tired than you initially thought. This sweet relief didn't last long though as you were rudely awoken by Dylan shoving his phone into your face. “Why didn't you take this offer?” he asked. Rather aggressively might I add. It took a good moment for your eyes to adjust to the newly procured light, which you could tell annoyed him, but once you were able to see, you noticed his mother had sent him pictures of the ranch house notes. “She said no one wanted to take the job?” He stated, attempting to make it sound like a question.
You blinked, “I didn't see the need. Someone more qualified can do it, plus I already have so much backed up work.” You expected him to drop it, that's what he normally did when you mentioned late work. But this time he seemed to grow angrier.
“Are you kidding me!?” he growled out, effectively surprising you, “Mom has been working her ass off for that company and you can't do this one thing for her!? For me!? After everything I've done for you? I've let you live here rent-free, I bailed you out of so much stuff that wouldn't have gotten you fired, I got you that raise you wanted so much and you can't do one simple thing for me!?” He shouts, standing from his position on your bed and moving towards the door. “Maybe mom was right about dating you. You only care about yourself. You're so selfish (Y/N), I can't believe you.” He slammed the door shut, leaving you stunned.
Rushing to stand, you run over to the door and pull it open, catching Dylan in the hall. “Wait!”, you cried out, “I'm sorry! I didn't mean to upset you.” Dylan turned to glare at you from over his shoulder.
“Not only have you upset me, but you've also upset my mother, YOUR BOSS. She sits there day after day, stressing over the wellbeing of the company and you dare not help out?” You flinched back, he was angry. You hadn't meant for that to happen. And he was right, you've been too caught up in your own life that you've been neglecting work, and now you have literal piles of backed-up work.
“I'll take the job,” you said. He smiled. You smiled back. Then he approached and wrapped his arms around you.
“I'm sorry, babe. I didn't mean to yell. I'm just so stressed out. I love you, so much.” he cooed, nuzzling your neck and planting a soft kiss there before pulling away and caressing your cheek. “Try to get some sleep. I'll let mom know of your decision.”
So here you were, sitting on a stool in a rustic little bar, far from the city. It was evident you didn't quite belong there, your pristine clothing and awkward demeanor proved as much. Your boss had given you the rundown on the ride over. As you sat in the passenger's seat on a rusty old pickup, courtesy of a rental company, your boss informed you of how difficult Sans could be. There were times when he wouldn't even allow agents on the property, scaring them off somehow. His family members could be quite scary, or so you've heard. Talking to him normally wouldn't work. Oh no, that was too much of a hassle. So she was sending you in undercover. You, a city girl with no experience whatsoever. According to sources, the owner was looking for a new ranch hand, no experience was required, training included in the job. It was odd and very conveniently timed but it was the break you needed.
So no you were sitting awkwardly at the bar and eyeing the other patrons. Monsters and humans alike filled the other tables, drinks clinking and plates clattering as they went about their day. Laughter and talking filled your ears as well as a jukebox in the corner playing some cliche country song. Something about fishing. None of the patrons stood out to you though. Not that you expected much, you had no clue what this “Sans’ looked like.
Sucking in a breath, you turned to the bartender. He was… hot to say the very least. How else would you describe a man made of literal fire? He was cleaning a glass with a rag and you couldn't help but wonder how it hadn't caught fire yet. Clearing your throat to get his attention, you watched as the glasses on his face floating up to look at you. “Umm… excuse me, sir. Do you know of a man named Sans?” he simply stared at you. “I'm interested in his job offer,” you muttered, growing more and more nervous as the silence grew. You then watched as the man raised a hand and pointed to a bulletin board at the other end of the bar. There were a couple of papers tacked to it but one stood out past the rest.
Standing, you made your way over to it, giving your thanks to the nice fire man. Once you got closer you realized it was a help wanted poster. It was a plain white paper with the words ‘Help Wanted’ as well as a phone number and address written beneath it. Pulling out your phone, you dialed the number and held it to your ear. It rang once, twice, and then… “Hello?” a voice called on the other end.
“Oh hi! Yes. I'm interested in your job offer?” you answered, cursing yourself mentally for the lack of confidence in your voice. There was a chuckle behind you and a voice called out “Is that so?” Turning around every so slowly, you nearly jumped at the sight in front of you.
“Heya, kid. The names Sans. Sans the skeleton. You said you're interested?”