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Sans was starting to get too used to dinner at Toriel's house. He hated it.
This was a lie, he loved every minute. Toriel had him spoiled rotten and he knew it.
He didn't have the heart to tell her that he had a pallette of cardboard and mostly just appreciated hot food and company. At the end of every meal, he did his best to tell her what a good job she'd done.
Like tonight, when she'd made chicken something something. He didn't catch the name. "But I loved the garlicky butter stuff," he said.
"Thanks! I figured you might."
Of course he might, butter was always a good time.
She gathered up both plates, and as she set them in the sink, she asked, "Would you care for a desert? I think I still have some pie left."
Oh man. But, as much as it hurt him, he knew he had to turn her down. "Not this time," Sans replied. "I think I really gotta get home for Papyrus' bed time story. I missed it when I was over last week."
He'd missed it because of that pie she made. He was all set to go, but then she had to go and pull that out of the oven, a golden brown concoction that smelled like the best cinnamon you'd ever known, and, well, he'd stayed. Late.
And missed story time.
Papyrus was upset, of course, but he couldn't beat Sans up any more than Sans had already beat himself up over it.
"Why don't you just bring Papyrus over here some evening?"
"I ... what?"
Toriel shrugged. "I'd like to meet him. You spend so much time talking about how amazing he is. And anyway, he's important to you. I should get to know him."
It was an innocent enough request, but ...
"I ... I gotta tell you the truth, Tori, I think he's a little jealous of you."
She sat back in her chair, and her expression dropped "What? Why would he be jealous of me?"
He sighed. "I dunno, I guess ... ever since we moved to Snowdin, it's been me and him. Alone. A solo act. Now he's sharing me, and even if it's one night a week, I think he's sore about it."
"... and the bedtime story rubbed salt in the wound."
"Yeah, you got it."
She straightened up. "That's all the more reason to invite him over, then. If he feels that way, we should meet and get to know each other. He’ll see I’m not so bad. Right?" She stretched her hands across the table, almost touching his, but not quite. "Just invite him over for next week. Please, for me?"
Crap. She must've known by now how hard it was for him to refuse her. So, fine, he'd do it.
Even though he took a shortcut, he still found himself a minute or two late for story time. Papyrus didn't mention it, even if he seemed crabby.
So, after a chapter of Junie J. Bones, he put the book down on his lap. "Hey, by the way, Toriel sent a message for you."
"For me?" Papyrus raised an eyebrow.
"Yeah. She wants you to come to dinner next week with us."
Papyrus' expression didn't change, so Sans went on. "I think she really wants to meet you, dude. You know, since you're the coolest and all? She's an awesome cook, too, you'll like it."
Papyrus' face softened. "I suppose if she wants to cook for The Great Papyrus," he said, "that can be arranged."
“Cool, I’ll text her,” Sans said. He put the book away, said his good nights, and turned Papyrus’ light off. Then, he sent a text to Toriel as he found his way down the hall to his own room. He didn’t bother to look at his phone for a reply. He wasn’t sure if he was relieved that Papyrus had agreed to the meeting, or even more anxious.
All week, Papyrus had driven Sans crazy with questions.
And they'd started the same way, too: "Sans, does your girlfriend -- "
So he'd answer, "Dude, she's not my girlfriend."
And so Papyrus would say, more firmly, "SANS, DOES YOUR GIRLFRIEND -- "
Sans, does your girlfriend make dessert, or should I bring some? Sans, does your girlfriend know about pepper? Because pepper is a very important condiment, The Great Papyrus says so. Sans, does your girlfriend prefer that we dress up? Because The Great Papyrus looks good in a dress shirt, but I'd hate to show you up in front of YOUR GIRLFRIEND --
Sans was just about as relieved as could be when Toriel greeted them at the ruins door.
"I found a recipe to try that I thought you might like," she said, as they sat down to the table.
"Surely, if my brother's told you all about me," said Papyrus, eyeing Sans, "you'd know that there's only one food worthy of the Great Papyrus, and that's -- "
"Spaghetti."
"Hmm?"
"Right, he told me. You love spaghetti. You and Undyne cook it all the time, right?"
"... nyeah."
So, Toriel had given up, huh. That's what she'd done, she'd just given in and cooked him a plate of spaghetti? That was fine with Sans. Less conflict, he figured. He just hoped she had a good recipe for meatballs.
A timer went off. Toriel donned two cutely quilted pot holders, bent over to the oven, and produced a pie tin.
Damnit, thought Sans.
She turned around, and placed the steaming tin on a (naturally) handmade trivet on the table. But ... the pie had no pie crust on top.
Actually, leaning in, both brothers saw spaghetti noodles under a crust of cheese and tomato sauce.
"Tori," said Sans, looking up at her cautiously, "what did you manage to -- "
"It's spaghetti pie," she said, sitting down to the table and taking off her pot holders. "Hadn't you ever heard of it?" She looked to Papyrus. "I would have thought you'd know about it."
Papyrus sat there, slack-jawed, so she went on. "You cook the noodles, like usual, but then you put them in a pie tin with cheese and eggs and whatever meat you like. Your brother said you were a meatball fan, but I couldn't resist, I used prosciutto."
She paused for a reaction, but got none. Sans could tell that Papyrus was going to need a minute, his mind was clearly blown.
"... anyway, you top it with sauce, then more cheese, and you bake it. Then you cut it and serve it. Would you like some?"
"Yes please," was all Papyrus could muster, he was still considering the spaghetti in front of him.
"Perfect," she said, and got up to get a knife to cut the pie. After slicing, the three of them had a wedge of cheesy, eggy spaghetti in front of them.
Sans had no problem digging in first. He knew it was going to be incredible, and it was. QED. Of course, he was good with anything fatty and carby. He knew what the real test would be, and tried not to smile as Papyrus poked his pie slice.
Finally, he took a bite.
"Well?" Sans asked his brother."
Papyrus elbowed him. "Marry her."
"... I'm sorry?"
"Marry her this living instant, Sans, or I'll do it myself!"
Oh no, was he turning blue? "Whoa, dude, I'm not -- "
"Toriel, this is incredible. I'm not sure how you made the world's most perfect food better, but you did."
"Thank you, Papyrus, that's kind of you to say!"
He swallowed another bite. "No, seriously, tell me your secret. What did you do with the sauce?"
"Oh, it was a total cheat, I just added caramelized onions and some beef to a can of tomato paste, and then I had some extra basil in the pantry -- "
"Hold on, caramelized onions? I didn't know they made that kind."
"No, you make them yourself. What you do is -- "
Sans knew he wasn't getting a word in edgewise, which was fine, because he had a slice of pie to finish. They went on so long that he was able to grab seconds without anyone noticing.
They went on so long that they went right through dinner, right past what Sans was pretty sure would have been desert, and right through to Papyrus' story time.