Across the table, Gaster catches Sans' eye as the skeleton attempts to stifle a yawn. "BORED?" He signs, glancing around to see if anyone has noticed. No one does, of course, just about every monster in the room is facing the presentation in the front, and they're sitting near the back.
"YEAH, A LITTLE," Sans replies after a moment, his fingers slow to form the letters. He's still new at Wingdings, but it's a talent he takes pride in. "I DON'T GET WHY WE HAVE TO BE HERE, THIS HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH US." He gestures to their colleague presenting data on weather cycles. "WE DON'T EVEN GET WEATHER IN THE UNDERGROUND."
"DRASTIC FLUCTUATIONS IN TEMPERATURE COULD POTENTIALLY CAUSE A MALFUNCTION IN MACHERNERY AT THE LABS." Gaster flitters out immediately, then settles down. They both turn to see a bar graph showing a steady growth. "THIS DOES NOT INVOLVE US DIRECTLY," he admits grudgingly. He had attempted to keep a positive mindset regarding this meeting and forget that they were wasting valuable work hours, but Sans brings up a good point.
"IF IT WAS REALLY SERIOUS, THEY'D TELL US TO DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT, NOT WORRY THE KING ABOUT IT. I BET THEY DIDN'T HAVE ANYTHING GOOD TO PRESENT, SO THIS IS WHAT THEY CHOSE TO TALK ABOUT." It takes a while for Sans to get the whole message out, and he makes a signal that tells Gaster he's finished.
"REGARDLESS, THERE IS ANOTHER TWO HOURS TO GO BEFORE WE CAN GET BACK TO THE LAB. WE MIGHT AS WELL LISTEN RESPECTFULLY." It's meant to be a hint to Sans to act like he's paying attention, but the skeleton just grins.
"NAH. HEY GASTER, YOU WANT TO LEAVE WORK EARLY AND GO SOMEWHERE?" Sans leans back in his chair, not even bothering to turn himself towards the front.
"…WHAT DO YOU HAVE IN MIND?"
"WHY, A DATE! I HAVE A DISCOUNT COUPON FOR GRILLBY'S AND THEY ALWAYS HAVE THE BEST KETCHUP! WE COULD CATCH A RIDE ON THE FERRY RIGHT AFTER THIS." In his excitement, Sans throws his arms up in the air, gaining the attention of a few of their coworkers. Luckily, his arms are so short that most don't notice.
"SANS, CALM DOWN, YOU'RE BEING DISTRACTING."
"SO WHAT? IT'S NOT LIKE ANYONE ELSE KNOWS WHAT WE'RE SAYING."
"YES, BUT-" Gaster throws an apologetic smile to his neighbor.
"WE CAN GET NICE CREAM INSTEAD IF-"
King Asgore Dreemurr is sitting at the head of the table, only a few seats away from them. He leans forward and whispers, "Dr. Gaster, Dr. Sans, do I need to move you two?"
They both freeze in their antics, then look down, properly chastised. The King returns to his usual upright position, smiling at his two prized scientists. He holds out his hands and begins forming complex symbols, catching their attention. "YOU TWO HAVE FUN ON YOUR DATE," he signs out with a wink.
Gaster promptly buries his face in his hands. Sans grins at the approval and gives the king a thumbs up.