"Do we need to walk back? Can't we just call a cab?" Sans grumbled as he opened the door of Grillby's surface restaurant, held it open for Frisk, and walked onto the streetlamp streaked sidewalk. His star necklace stood out all the more against his black, turtleneck sweater. "Could've sworn it was snowing earlier. Don't want ya to get sick again."
"I'm fine, just a little indigestion. We had a big dinner," said Frisk, sticking out their tongue at him, "so don't even think of being too lazy to walk home." Truth was that Frisk was getting a bit worried about gaining weight, not that they were going to tell Sans and become prime target for his diet puns. Any exercise would help at this point and, fortunately, Sans' coat was always warm. "Besides, it's not that cold. Spring's coming." Frisk gazed up at the cloud covered night sky and breathed in the fresh, chill air. "I can't wait for you to see it."
They soon felt Sans train his eye sockets on them.
"Stop staring!" Frisk said, feeling their cheeks heat up and knowing, just knowing, they glowed brighter than a neon sign.
"Sorry, sweetheart," Sans said, threading his fingers through theirs, "blame yourself, not me."
"What does that mean?" they said, arching an eyebrow and narrowing their red eyes.
"That right there. You're too damn cute." Sans glanced sidelong at them and grinned. "Can't help but stare at ya."
Frisk faced forward. And here they thought their husband could make them blush no brighter. Guess they were wrong. Passing the local 24 hour convenience store, they stopped. "Oh, let's stop in here."
"Okay, sure," Sans said, shrugging. "What for?"
"Just milk."
"Don't we have milk at home?" Sans knitted his bony brow in confusion.
"Yes, but I want to drink some on the way," Frisk said, a bounce in their step as they waved to the cashiers in front. They knew the stout, dark woman who worked the register in the daytime. Rosa waved back, as expected; she always had a jolly smile for everyone and asked them by name about their health, their kids, and anything under the sun. She was busy at the moment, however, exchanging tills with a redhead who looked bored beyond belief. It was all poor Rosa could do to pry the girl's attention away from her text messages.
Breezing through the nearest aisle to the glass refrigerator doors in the back, Frisk soon found what they wanted: a plastic quart of 2%. Not skim. They really wanted whole but hoped 2% would be healthy enough not to waste the calories burned by the walk.
"Uh, sweetheart?" Sans said, pointing to the single serving bottles at their eye level.
Frisk pouted and grabbed the quart beneath them, anyway. By the time they returned to the front of the store, the redhead had settled in and stuck a Dum Dum lollipop in her mouth, but her mouth fell open when Sans approached, and the purple lollipop slipped from her lips, fell on the counter, and cracked.
Sans chuckled and his gold tooth sparkled as the cashier gaped at him, her face flushing to match her hair. "Hey, dollface."
"Cut it out," Frisk said, elbowing him playfully in the ribcage. There was no snapping the girl out of it now, so Frisk left what they assumed was more than enough money and tugged Sans by the arm out of the store. As soon as they stepped outside and let the door's chimes ring behind them, they opened the bottle, thankful the stunned cashier did not bother bagging it. Frisk released a blissful sigh. "Better."
"Dunno about you, but I prefer milkshakes," said Sans, leading Frisk by the arm across the street before the light changed.
"Mm mn," Frisk said, taking another gulp and then shaking their head. "Too thick and sweet. Gets in the way."
"Of what?" Sans said, snickering. "The milk?"
"Yup," Frisk said, straight faced as they took another swig.
"Shoulda known I married a weirdo," he replied, winding his arm around their waist.
"And you drown fries in mustard," laughed Frisk.
Though most of the trees above ground were bare thanks to the winter, like the rare deciduous tree in the Ruins, Frisk and Sans strolled past a grove of evergreens. Sans would never say it, but Frisk knew he was enamored with them. Maybe the pines made him feel at home, again, not that he would ever admit being attached to Snowdin. The boughs partially concealed a house with an attached garage that opened as Frisk and Sans walked by; a blue SUV pulled out into the driveway, and then a man parked and left the car as a woman waved frantically at him from the front door.
Frisk heard a passing conversation.
"Let me guess," the man said, taking a slip of paper from the woman, "Häagen-Dazs?"
"Not even close," the woman said, pointing to the list. "Ben and Jerry's. Chunky Monkey if they have it, Cherry Garcia if they don't."
"What if they have neither?" the man said, scratching his head.
"Call me. Hopefully, the splashie will knock out Jason if Em stops blasting her video game." Rubbing her lower abdomen, the woman gave him a quick kiss. "Thanks, hun."
Frisk giggled.
"What's so funny, honey?" Sans said, smirking.
"Man on a mission," said Frisk, leaning on Sans' shoulder. A hint of regret tugged at Frisk, but they could not place where it came from. "Sans, do you like it on the surface?"
"Heh, do I like not being trapped under a shitty mountain? What d'ya think?" Sans stroked their hair, parting its silky strands.
"I know," they said, shaking their head. "Silly question."
Soon they reached their own house. Though only the porch light was on, it looked as cozy and inviting as the day Frisk's monster parents first showed it to them. A little big, though Frisk did not mind that much.
"'Course," he said softly in their ear, "that's not what I like best."
"Smooth," Frisk said, blushing as they checked the mailbox. Junk mail and the gas bill. Any official business was usually shipped FedEx. Then, they sighed.
"Something wrong?" Sans said, turning to look at them while unlocking their door.
"...I don't know." Frisk shrugged and dropped the mail onto a table beside the coat rack.
"Kinda stressful, huh? Helping monsters and humans play nice?" Sans gave them a lopsided grin and helped them remove their—formerly his—coat. "Nothing compared to before but, eh, I was kinda hoping you'd catch a break after all that."
"Hmm, maybe a little." Lifting the quart bottle, Frisk shook the bottom and then drained the last of the milk. They smiled. "I'm just glad we're together."
"Me too, sweetheart," Sans said, picking up the empty milk bottle with magic and tossing it into the kitchen trash bin. He held out his hand. "C'mere."
Frisk took it and laid their head against his breastbone as Sans drew them into an embrace.
Looking back, there were many little things, many hints of what was happening before they learned Frisk was already pregnant with Sans' twins. But at that moment, in that quiet night, they were just a couple who had survived hell and shared the secret fulfillment of their secret longing.