In a pimped-out Russian hind with a megalomaniac and a rack full of bad CDs

At first, Alphys said that she needed his help with "something". That probably should should have been in the first clue. By the time Sans got there, had just dumped the second of a familiar pair of legs in a cart (really, they're heavy). She sputtered into a nonsense explanation, how "something" was busted, how she really needed a second pair of sockets on "something", and how "something" might be in a bad mood now that he can't chase her.

Did she say "he"? "Something". She meant "something".

And before Sans could open his mouth, he felt an uncermonious shove of a clawed hand behind them both. He stumbled into the adjacent room. Alphys wheeled the cart away, and the skeleton whirled around just as steel doors slid shut with a boom behind him.

He stares down the metal He looked over his shoulder at "something".

...

Nope. Hell nope. He turns back around.

"Alphys. Come on. Open the door."

No answer. Sans turns back around. Another couple awkward seconds pass. Finally, the monster shrugs his arms up in the air.

"Welp. If this is a practical joke, tells Alf she needs practice. See ya."

...

...

...

It takes a second to realize he's still standing there. As in, not going anywhere. As in, not teleporting. He looks down. His SOUL is green. Not the healing green, the other green. Oh.

"Oh."

He remembers the hand that pushed him a second ago. He can already hear her voice in his head.

NGAHHHHHH!!! FINALLY! MAN, why didn't I think of this sooner?! Hey, Papyrus! Check out what I can do to your brother!!

Something was more than wrong. It was beyond the kid being busy. It was beyond not affording to care anymore. Somehow, it got worse. It was... strange. Systematic. Quick. Almost experimental.

This time, they moved too fast. Nearly any opportunity monsters had to run were brutally cut down. Alphys only barely got a handful of monsters to her lab. This time, Sans took Papyrus ahead of their moment and convinced him to go with them... sort of.

It was less convincing, more argument - mostly because Papyrus still thought he could talk to them. It took a lot of little white lies in the form of "I'm coming"s and "I'll be right behind you"s to get him into the small crowd packing itself in the elevator. It was easy to slip out after that. Sans murmured quiet goodbyes to himself as the door slid closed.

Beyond the obvious, he wasn't sure why he suddenly thought it would make a difference. The skeleton didn't remember everything about before. Like all the others, the past timeline was a blur and full of holes. Back then, though... back when he thought was trying to stop the world's end, he remembered the last blow. He remembered pain. Red. Then... a look. Something on their expression he'd never seen before.

Then it went black again. Now, he teleported to the top of the Core as fast as he could go. They were ahead of him and still moving too fast.

Dammit.

At this rate, they could get to ASGORE before he could.

Four weeks and a kitchen fire later, Sans did it. He finally asked the ex-queen of all monsters out on a date.

It was a long time coming for more reasons than one. Equal parts doubt, nerves, and fussing over recipes that, for once, the skeleton cared about getting just right could name a few.

Plus, coming to terms with a crush was complicated for him, even after the surface happened. Hell, he tried to convince himself out of it while. There was no way. Toriel wouldn't go for it. Maybe she just wanted to stay friends. It wouldn't matter in the end anyway.

Then time passed. The more Sans let himself get comfortable, the harder it was to ignore it. The butterflies in his ribcage, the too-long staring, how he thought of new jokes just to hear her laugh, the ease that came with talking to her, the way she practically invaded his thoughts and better dreams...

Screw it. Okay. He'll give it a shot. Besides, between Mettaton, Papyrus, and even Frisk pushing him... well. Sometimes, it's nice to have someone call you out on being lazy.

Jump to about four weeks of stalling for all of the above. Sans told Toriel he wanted to ask her something. Right off the bat, it was a disaster. He tried to stay casual about it, but every time he tried to pop the question he nearly lost his cool. The skeleton stumbled through about six different punny pick-up lines that he decided were no good at the last minute until he finally blurted out the question.

She said yes.

She said yes...

She said yes???

It's still echoing in his head days later as Sans sits outside Mettaton's new resort, waiting for Toriel. He picks and adjusts the cuffs of the old suit they salvage from the fire (don't ask how) for the millionth time while he nudges at a small cardboard box at his feet. Don't ask what's in it yet, because he's not going to explain it. There's also a small bundle of roses hiding in his suit.

Cue the wait.

"Easy, Sans..." The skeleton murmurs to himself, taking a deep breath in the process. He got through the hard part. Believe it or not, nervous as he was, he actually felt pretty good. Sans grins a little to himself as he adjusts a cuff for the hundred time.

"... Welp. Here goes nothing."