"You're going to wear a path around the room at this rate, pajarita."

You looked over at Grillby from the edge of the glass you cradled near your lips. Your feet kept carrying you forward, but a tug of grudging acceptance of his concern led you to loop around to your usual stool at the far end of the bar. The fizzing pink magic of your drink wasn't distraction enough, and you were trying to make it last - even if your hand itched to toss the glass back and drain it.

Grillby gave you a knowing look. A thoughtful few seconds passed as he finished a note on the stock list for his bar. Quietly then, he set down the pad and made his way from behind the bar around to you. A frustrated sigh slipped out of you as he took the stool next to you and faced you.

Your head dipped and you pinched the bridge of your nose between your index finger and thumb.

"There's so many ways this could go, Grillby," you muttered.

"Esto es verdad," Grillby said. His arms crossed his chest and he leaned lightly against the bar.

"The opportunity for information is… stars, it's nearly priceless," you continued, gesturing vaguely and emphatically, "but at the same time… I can admit that I'm decently recognizable…" Your eyes drifted to the side with a grimace.

"You don't want to walk into a trap," Grillby supplied. You nodded, your eyes slipping to him.

"But it's worth it, isn't it? It's been hard to pick up anything new, I think, and Il Sangue isn't exactly easy to trail…"

Grillby's flames shifted in faster flickers, and his face tilted down towards you. The almond pools of solid flame that were his eyes focused hard on you behind his glinting glasses.

"There is nothing that is worth the foolish offering of your life, listillita." Grillby held your gaze firmly, and you found your racing mind calming, even just slightly. Your mouth was still pulled slightly down, but at last you nodded. His gaze stayed on you, but after a few more moments he looked appeased and his expression lightened. "Además - I do not think that they would send you in regardless of risk. No doubt they are talking extensively over the options as it is."

Your posture relaxed and straightened. "You're right - you are, I can admit that," you said with a laugh as Grillby's expression broke into a playfully disbelieving smirk. You smacked him lightly on his bicep with a roll of your eyes. "Regardless, I may not have had enough time spent with all of them yet, but I think… certain folk in the group have a keener care for their resources than you might expect, at least to some degree," you added. You had no doubt that Gaster would cut whatever weight he deemed needed cutting, that's for sure… you felt the chill of a near-shiver at your shoulder blades. Still, he wasn't one to waste what he valued.

Grillby carefully looked away. He crackled low, though, and you knew that he had more awareness of the shadows than any creature made of flames should. "It's only good business," he offered vaguely. You huffed an odd sort of laugh.

"Precisely."

"I imagine you wouldn't have offered, though, if you thought it wasn't a worthwhile option," Grillby said, his face tilting back towards you.

Your lips pursed and your brow furrowed. "Naturally." You were quiet for a moment. Then, "I believe there are precautions we can take on the side of safety… and there's more than one thing I'd like to learn more about," you said.

"honestly, latidita, you're not the only one who feels that way."

For the first time in a while, Sans' sudden appearance jolted awareness and a hot brush of tingling awareness up your arms.

"Sans-!" You managed, half breathless, swinging around in your stool to look up at him. Your knees nearly brushed against his legs, he stood so close.

"that's the name, doll," he replied with a wink. His tone was light but just the slightest bit tight, and that tension was a careful hard line in his shoulders even as he stood easy with his hands in his pockets.

Grillby straightened slightly in his stool, eyeing his friend. His flames flickered. "... Interesting," he said quietly. Sans' eyes and your own slipped over to him, curiosity in yours and a measured amusement in Sans'.

"y'know, that bright eye of yours is a bit hot on the back of a guy like me, sometimes," Sans said. His grin stretched as his eye sparkled despite his words. Grillby rolled his eyes but crackled in a low chuckle regardless. He rolled to a smooth stand and clapped a hand on Sans' shoulder.

"... confío en ti a hacer lo que hay que hacer," Grillby said, meeting the gaze of the skeleton monster unwaveringly. A heavy moment hung in the air as Grillby's flames cast a warm and intimate light in the dark corner of the speakeasy's bar, Sans' eye sockets still impossibly dark despite the light and the small white circles that focused on Grillby in return.

Sans nodded, a single motion without a trace of levity. Grillby returned the nod, his soft, nearly-imperceptible smile returning. He looked to you and shifted his hand to rest briefly on your shoulder.

"Make good choices," he said, a spark of mischief in his eyes. You felt your face shift in slight confusion as a somewhat less appropriate corner of your mind threatened to rise a flush to your features.

"If they present themselves," you managed to reply, a laugh in your voice. Both monsters in front of you laughed at that, the rich crackling tones of Grillby's laughter mixing warmly with Sans' rumbling baritone and leaving you grinning. Still chuckling, Grillby turned with a final nod and strode off to the kitchen.

You slipped to your feet as Sans' laughter quieted, and you found that flush definitively dusting your face at the sight of the soft edge to the grin that had settled on his face.

"So what's the situation?" You asked, working to ignore your usual instinctive reaction to that grin of his.

He shifted his weight on his feet, his expression weighing down for just a moment. "much as i hate to have to be one of the ones entertaining the thought of you in a sticky situation…" his grin twitched downwards, and he glanced away. "... well, i know that you're up to the challenge, canary. can't deny that, especially when you've said so yourself," he added, looking back to you. Your chest had pulled at his words, but the last addition lit the determination in you that had already been smoldering as your mind pulled through it's options. You nodded, and he huffed a wry chuckle. "if that's still how you feel, then, we've got a meeting to go to."

Your brows lifted at this. "You mean…?"

He offered his arm and looked at you with a waggle of his brow. "wouldn't wanna keep Pap waiting, would you?"

You couldn't help the sudden laugh that bubbled out of you. Your hands flew to your mouth as you couldn't quiet yourself, the sound bright even muffled behind your fingers. Sans' grin grew. You managed to swallow your giggles after a few more seconds, and you stepped to stand close in front of Sans.

"How could I disappoint such a smooth dancer?" You replied, slipping your hand to rest on his arm.

In a short blur of movement, you felt Sans shift the arm you held and suddenly that arm was scooping you flush against him low on your back, his other hand joining the first with a tingling slip down your arm.

"looking like that, I can say for certain you don't," he said.

Well, there went that hope of keeping your blush to a minimum.

"How do you even do that," you managed, breathless and left with flustered laughter shaking out of you again. You couldn't quite look at him in the eyes, so you settled for addressing the soft collar of his shirt. The deep crimson color was an odd comfort now, something that you had become so used to, paired with the deep charcoal of his suit jacket. Your hands rested against his chest, and you felt the rumble of his chuckle along your palms and arms and chest…

"don't have the slightest idea of what you mean, chispita."

This drew your eyes back upwards, a disbelieving and amused look on your flushed face. His eyes were bright and focused on you. Your faces were incredibly close, and an overwhelming memory of your dance just hours before pushed it's way through your mind, your body, every one of your senses...

Before he could continue, you responded with as much breath as you could muster at the moment, "Let me guess - magia?"

His eyes widened slightly, and blue dusted his cheekbones at what you realized might have been your intriguingly breathless reply.

"something like that," he managed, an echo of his grin on his expression. Your chest tightened, and a strange moment drug out between the two of you. Then, he whispered throatily, "hold tight."

Your arms slipped over his shoulders and you clasped your hands behind his neck gently, without hesitation - but with a very hard beating of your heart.

And then you fell.

The darkness pulled you in and out and tight towards Sans all at once, rushing past you with a soundless roar and twisting you round and down before-

-without ceremony, it stopped. You felt warmth at your chest and light behind your tightly shut eyes - which you opened quickly, not realizing you had even clenched them shut. You were met with the sight of a red collar and dusty-white bone.

In a jolt you pulled backwards, your breath hitching for a moment as your eyes darted upwards and caught Sans' expression, decidedly blue, looking behind you. His arms loosened around you and you matched his movement on instinct, stepping back despite the nearly imperceptible slowing of his hands as they brushed by your hips.

The way his eyes held behind you let you know that by the stars, you needed to take a steadying breath before turning around. So you did, and it was with only a slight flush and a well-disguised racing heart that you were able to turn a moment later to greet your companions.

Papyrus, naturally… and Gaster himself.

Well, that one may have taken you a very brief part off-guard. You were a hand more grateful for that breath a moment ago, seeing as it had now swiftly left your body.

You stepped forward regardless. You had a role to fill, after all.

Before you could fill it, though, your face met firmly with the well-dressed chest of a towering skeleton.

"GREETINGS, AMIGITA DE TALENTO!"

Papyrus bright and warm greeting vibrated through you, tickling your nose with the vibrations from his words as he scooped you up in a warm hug, letting you down just as quickly and gently before headbutting you gently on each cheek.

A laugh bubbled out of you once more as you realized he had just pressed kisses against your cheeks - a moment delayed, you realized his bones had shifted slightly pliably as he did so, feeling shockingly more like a kiss than you would have suspected from a skeleton. You squeezed his arm as he stepped away, giving him a bright smile in return.

"It's lovely to see you again, Papyrus," you said genuinely. You had missed him in the past few weeks, there was no doubt there. "How are you doing?"

He swept into a genteel and bravacious bow, dipping his head before looking back up at you with a wide smile. "QUITE WELL, THANK YOU! I HOPE THIS EVENING IS GOING WELL FOR YOU, TOO?"

He audibly winked.

Apparently, the penchant for teasing was a family trait.

You looked him hard in the eye with a knowing look, but a smile ruined the faux-seriousness. "Much better now that I'm in your great presence again," you replied smoothly. If you had looked back, you would have seen the soft, fond way Sans' looked at you - as it was, you simply split into a fleeting grin at the slightly orange-faced taller brother in front of you, who rose from his bow. You shot him a wink back before focusing back on the sitting area behind him.

Gaster effectively graced the centerpiece chair, a lounging leather affair that his enormous stature managed to effortlessly complement. His suit was dark and laced with the impossible shadows it had been dripping with before and he had his hands steepled in front of him, his gaze resting on you with what you swore might have been a smirk.

You stepped forward and swept once more into a mix of a curtsy and a bow, lifting your eyes to his own.

"Good evening, sir."

His single white pupil was trained on you. Despite his good humor, you felt the shadows creeping towards you, a heavy darkness tinting your senses, an impossible gravity pulling you in.

Your gaze held steady on his even so, and with a slight twist to your lips you resisted the slip of singularity on you. Your brows tugged inwards just slightly as stubborn certainty kept your core steady, even as you fought the flare of nerves in your gut from potentially displeasing the literal mob boss who sat in front you.

His magic swirled dangerous and deep around you, even if you couldn't entirely see it. It felt like it existed outside of this reality, rather lying in some adjacent, overlapping world that threatened to tear at the fabric of this one. A creeping tendril of doubt in your mind insisted that you were digging your own grave by resisting, by potentially upsetting him - but you wouldn't cave, not like this, no matter how he played his cards, still leaving you frozen in place even as you resisted his pull.

And then rich static popped and rolled through the room, and the darkness lifted. Your body felt lighter and you fought a wave of lightheadedness as you realized he was laughing.

"Good evening to you as well, tormentita," he said at last. His voice lapped itself and strung heavy and low through the room. You fought to keep a neutral expression on - or rather, regain it after that silent testing of wills - but your mouth twitched at the nickname. You wondered if it would stick.

A close presence at your right side broke your consideration of the deceptively at-ease monster in front of you.

"ella no cambió de idea," Sans said. He stood surprisingly straight, with only the slightest hint of a confident slouch in his posture. His arm was only a hair's breadth away from your own. You took a deep breath to refocus yourself.

Gaster nodded, a bare slip of a movement. His expression was pleased.

"It would take a lot more than a little rival-environment risk to change my mind," you said easily. Your hands slipped to clasp one another behind your back. You held yourself well, powerfully, confidently, radiating a sureness that you wouldn't shy from.

"YOU'VE GOT A SIGNIFICANT AMOUNT OF BRAVERY, CANARY," Papyrus praised you from your left. You glanced up at him with some surprise on your face. "THIS WILL BE NO SMALL TASK," he continued, looking down at you. His bright smile was still on his face, but his gaze was as serious as you had seen it. "STILL, I BELIEVE THAT I HAVE COME UP WITH AN EXCELLENT PLAN TO PROVIDE YOU WITH THE BEST PATH TO SUCCESS."

"we talked through a lot of scenarios already," Sans said. Your gaze shifted to him. "gotta weigh the options - as it is, Paps is one of our best strategists," he continued. His grin was wide once more, and you caught a strong swing of pride in his tone. An impressed smile slipped onto your own face as you looked back at Papyrus.

"A good dancer and a brilliant mind, too? You're quite the impressive gentle-monster," you said, genuine and teasing at once. Papyrus' cheekbones were a light orange, and he looked down at you with a slight puffing of his chest and a twinkle in his eye.

"I AM THE GREAT PAPYRUS, AFTER ALL," he replied. You laughed and Sans chuckled - and a pressure in front of you drew your eyes back to Gaster once more.

His unmarked browbone was raised. You cleared your throat, rolling back into a strong stance once more and nodding at him.

"What's our plan, sir?" You asked. It was… definitely best to return the floor to him. He could take it back with ease, but you decidedly did not want things to get to that point.

He regarded you carefully for a few moments, letting the silence and attention pool. Gracefully, smoothly, and with strange, slipping after-shadows, he lifted one leg and crossed it so his ankle rested on top of the opposite knee.

"We have a number of potential gains through this opportunity," he remarked. "Being invited to such an environment, at a place of selection and considerable weight…" he trailed his words, and a rolling baritone of static rumbled from him. It brushed across your skin and set your hair on end even as the sound struck hot across your skin. "Well, let's say that should things go well, there shall be several fortuitous opportunities for our organization."

You weren't sure if you wanted to trust your voice or words. You settled for a nod instead.

Sans made a low humming noise next to you. He lifted a gloved hand and framed his chin with it, looking towards Gaster. "now we know that we may not get everything we're looking for, and it's hard to say what we can expect you to see in there, dulzura," he said. His gaze met yours. "después de todo, it's not exactly a monster-friendly joint." He grinned a little wider, and you caught the flash of his sharper canines. "but we have our hunches for what may present itself… and nearly anything you come back with will be more than useful."

"Agreed," you said. "About Il Sangue all but running the place, though - what kind of risk are we looking at for me getting recognized?" Your gaze shifted over each of the monsters in the room, purposefully fully extending your question. "I'm not as concerned about getting out of the situation - that will be what it will be - but I'm more worried about what would happen to our efforts if I were… discovered," you said, glancing to the side with a grimace.

The room was quiet for a moment. The gaze of the brothers to either side slipped to Gaster, though you felt an odd pulse as if they both wanted to say something but refrained.

"The concern of you being moreso recognized as the one they attempted to kidnap… well. We have allotted for that and shall address that potential circumstance momentarily. There will naturally still be some risk as there are limitations to what we can do within a short timeframe - but I also believe that, aside from having a well-laid series of preparations, that Il Sangue is not looking to kidnap you again… not like this, in any case," Gaster said. He spoke with his strange static-lilt, the roll of an old, old spanish accent you couldn't quite place rounding his vowels and slipping his words richly even through the eerie effect of whatever magic pulled at him and his voice. You found yourself unable and unwilling to look away, though this time there was no draw of darkness at the edges of your senses. "It is, naturalmente, wishful thinking to presume that nothing will go wrong. Your forethought and consideration is certainly appropriate… and appreciated," he continued. His single dot of light in his unmarred socket held your focus, flickering downwards, drawing slowly across you in a measured study. He met your eyes again and went on, "Intelligence gathering is crucial. I will not allow for half-baked attempts that will cost us more than we shall gain."

Your brows drew inward for a moment. The last piece felt oddly… reassuring, rather than threatening. Rolling that piece of information around in your mind, you nodded. Gaster settled his fingertips together once more, arched together in front of his chest, his expression stony despite the bright white of his gaze on you.

"plan or no, you'll have to think on your feet, doll," Sans said. "can't say that you should run at the first sight of trouble-"

"I'm not much of a bird for getting flighty," you responded, a wink in your tone. His grin twitched at that, and you heard a soft groan from your other side.

"birds of a feather in that respect in this business," he said, one socket closing in a prolonged wink. "but like i was saying… we can't follow you in there for more reasons than the one, so be ready for that. you ready to go over the setup?"

You couldn't fight the grin that lit up your face as a hint of adrenaline sparked in your veins. "I was born ready," you replied. Papyrus laughed at that, and stepped forward.

"EXCELLENT ENTHUSIASM, I APPROVE! I'M CLEARLY A FANTASTIC INFLUENCE," he said, setting a hand on your shoulder. The mischievous sparkle in his eyes only had your heart beating faster in anticipation.

"Who else would be?" You knew the same sparkle was in your own eye. Setting your hands on your hips, you leaned in conspiratorially. "Now what's that brilliant plan, Paps?"


Tucked in the skinny end of the eighth stretch of winding alleyway you'd walked through in the past half hour, you were really starting to miss the coolly reassuring stone passageways leading to El Fuego Del Alma.

"There's something exciting about navigating through the open air of these alleys, knowing what's to come," a girl whispered. She was nearly pressed against your back, and her floral perfume creeped sickly sweet over the shoulder of your jacket. It was paired with the acrid smoke of a cheaply rolled cigarette from the man next to her, the clouds hanging heavy around the heads of your small group. It stuck at the hairs of your neck and you had to fight the urge to wave your hand like you were about to smack away a fly.

Two others pressed in front of you, both women. "Much better to be out in the air than trapped in some dusty cave," one responded with a laugh. The girl next to her rolled her eyes but grinned - that was Ella, the one who had originally asked you to come. The others laughed, and you let a huff of a laugh slip out of your nose even as your core rolled in anger. The two women obscured your view of the door the group had brought you to, and their response further blocked you from even hearing what they were doing.

The door swung open after a moment, a sliver of darkness all the opportunity offered. One of the women in front of you strolled inwards - the one who had spoken just now. Behind her, Ella turned to look at you, her bright face eager and a little nervous.

"Still have your card?" She asked.

You flashed her an easy smile. With a roll of your wrist, you presented the card you had tucked securely inside the sleeve of your jacket. She stifled an awed giggle and nodded before ushering you in.

The difference between the light of the alleyway and the entrance to this room was stark; considering that you'd already barely been able to make out the bricks of the building you had been a little too close to in that alley, you were very nearly impressed with the drop in lighting. You could navigate by the hushed voices of the group moving alongside you, though, and caught the outline of a tall, stocky figure apparently leading you through a turn of hallways.

At last, you stopped at a deceptively simple set of double doors. The line of their wood was worn from what you could make out, and they looked as though they settled heavy on their hinges. The stocky figure at the lead stopped next to another human, this one standing primly in front of the doors. The two in front of you showed the bouncer something tucked in their jackets, and with a nod of approval they stepped to the side and looked at you expectantly. Now at your turn, you extended the card, displaying it with a curated expression of polite ease and eagerness.

A moment passed, and the bouncer nodded. A hand was extended to you expectantly. After a moment of your own, you gently placed the card in the bouncer's grasp.

The other two were quickly checked, and without further pause the bouncer turned and pushed the doors open, allowing you and the group you stood with to enter.

The sound hit you at nearly the same moment the sparkling lights did.

An arching, stunning ballroom was laid before you, smaller than half the size of El Fuego Del Alma but extravagantly decorated and filled with lively jazz. Clear, crystalline chandeliers hung from the arched ceiling above a wide dance floor, one end towards a bright and broad stage and the other towards a semi-circle bar set against the opposite wall. Candle-lit tables were set in front of you and across the room on the adjacent sides of the dance floor, framing the clear center focuses of the room and twinkling with lights and expensive glasses and drinks alike, the soft lighting glancing over the features of a nearly full house of customers.

A slender arm linked with yours and quickly drug you towards the bar.

"Let's get you introduced at the bar and in the performer roster," Ella said.

"And more importantly, let's get a round of drinks," the floral girl added. You laughed with the group as they squeezed into the throng surrounding the bar.

"Even as busy as it gets here, it's always worth it," the third woman sighed. Her eyes sparkled in the curated lighting as she gazed outwards. Your eyes followed hers then swept casually, curiously back to the bar. The wall was lined with impeccably arranged glass bottles of every shape and size, amber and ochre and crimson and more pooled in each container. Several barhands were quickly darting to start drinks and match the growing demand.

"And bonus - it's not an absolute zoo," the man added, putting out his cigarette in a crystal ashtray and raising a hand to a barhand.

"Thomas," the floral girl hissed, lightly smacking him with her hand, her eyes darting to you. You pretended not to have overheard and swallowed the acid rising in your core, opting to lean on the bar. You had caught the eye of the bartender proper and were damned if you were going to slip up at this point.

"She works there-" Ella whispered tightly, though you could hear the attempt at a smile in her voice in case you looked back at them.

"It's not like she has to, she's more than good enough to get a gig somewhere not crawling with-"

You decided to cut your focus on them off before you could hear something that would test your control too much.

"So what would you say your best drink is?" You asked the bartender as she stopped in front of you.

She considered you for a moment. Her eyes were a warm brown, light wrinkles at the corners of her eyes, a few loose curls framing her face. She filled out her bartending outfit well, her toned arms well-framed and telling you that she did much of the bar's heavy lifting herself. She cocked a single brow at you. Her face was serious, practiced, but there was a flicker of a grin before her expression settled again.

"That depends on what you're looking for, miss," she replied democratically.

You flashed her a knowing grin. "I'm no rare hand, ma'am. No special lines necessary for me."

Her eyes stayed on you. You recognized the quick and hard appraisal behind her seasoned expression - any bartender worth their salt had the skill and would use it to better judge and work with their customers, especially for a request like yours.

Finally, she nodded, her mouth quirking at one side. Wordlessly she turned to the counter at the back and selected a few bottles. A barhand interrupted your line of sight, carrying a tray of golden mixed drinks. He passed them out to your group - including you. You looked back at the others, a slightly surprised look on your face.

"What, you didn't think we'd leave you stone sober for your performance, did you?" Ella said, a laugh in her tone. You shot her a wink back.

"I definitely appreciate that variety of backup," you replied. "I do have an order going actually, though, with your lovely bartender there," you continued, nodding towards the woman in question. Her tight curls cascaded down her back, a neat and intriguing line compared to the tight pull at the sides of her head.

Your gaze returned to the group, who had varying degrees of shock on their faces. You thought Ella even looked impressed. You raised a brow in question.

The guy, Thomas, cleared his throat. "That's… huh. B doesn't usually make drinks for first-timers," he said, eyeing you a little more closely than you were fond of. Swallowing the urge to retort, you settled your expression into one of casually pleased delight.

"I'm honored, then," you said.

"Save that sort of sentiment for when you taste it, love."

Your gaze quickly shifted back to the bartender - B, apparently - who had her arms crossed and had clearly placed your completed drink on the bartop between the two of you. Her expression was stony, but you caught the slightest uplifting to her brow. You grinned and looked at the drink. The glass was frosted and the rim was lined with a sprinkling of crystals and an elegantly peeled orange rind curled over it, complementing the rich amber gradient of the liquid within.

As much as you missed Del Alma, you had no inclination to deny the mastery that went into the drink in front of you.

"Alright, recommendation time - should I take a sip of the standard drink with this group first and then enjoy, or should I let this be my first taste?" You leaned forward, eyes flicking from the trailing condensation on the glass to the dark eyes of the bartender.

A soft snort left her, a smirk twitching at her lips. "I'm curious which you think you should go with," she responded.

You leaned back, nodding appreciatively at the challenge. You took a glass in each hand, the eyes of the towering bartendress and the group heavy on you. Before you could lift your choice, a girl dressed in an outfit whose theme matched B's bustled over.

"Um, excuse me, miss-?" Your eyes met hers. The frantic energy was pouring off of her in waves, even though her appearance was well-groomed and professional. The little ticks of her hands brushing over a clipboard, repeatedly tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear… they were easy to catch, at least for you.

You smiled gently, reassuringly.

"What can I do for you?" You asked softly.

She cleared her throat and straightened a little further and glanced to Ella, then back to you. "You're performing next - we've got about 10 minutes until you go on," she said. "If you could, follow me over to the stage and we'll make sure you know the setup."

You nodded, mildly impressed that you were up on the roster already. You let your eyes slip to Ella, who returned you gaze sheepishly.

Impressed, yes. Surprised… not particularly.

"Ah, but first-"

You looked up at B and winked. You lifted the drink she had prepared for you and took a sip of it, savoring the sweet and tangy burn. Your brows popped upwards as the swirl of magic tingled through your nerves. It was weaker than you were used to, but it made a warmth bloom in your chest and you felt a bit of tension ease out of you.

You looked up at B. She watched you, an eyebrow lifted, and the definite tilt of a small smirk at her lips.

You lowered the glass, a serious expression slipping onto your face. "Color me honored, then," you said simply.

Her brows knit together for a moment - then lifted, and an outright guffaw boomed out from her. She settled her hands on her hips and grinned at you.

"I like this one, Ell," she said, approval on her features. You laughed as Ella beamed.

Looking back towards the stage coordinator, you smiled and nodded. "Take me away," you said with a small bow. Your eyes slipped to the group once more and you gave them another easy wink. "I'll take your drink with me as well, it'll be a great cool-down," you said. Ella laughed and the others joined in as you fell easily into step behind the quick-footed coordinator.

In a flurry of activity, you were brought to the side of the stage, introduced to the stagehands who helped with transitions and management, asked what you'd be performing, told that three songs would be perfect, had your hair and makeup touched up - and then, with your two drinks settled on a stool to your side, you were on stage and in front of the mic.

Curious faces stared up at you from across the room. The small band behind you stood at the ready as you gazed out at the room, confidence laying in your bones even if there was a fluttering tightness deep in your core.

You had a purpose being here. Thoughts of your home at El Fuego Del Alma filled your mind in the span of the few short moments you let yourself view your audience. Every face staring up at you was human, and a pang of heartache hit you. It wasn't right - you missed the beautifully mixed crowds of Del Alma, the warm light of Grillby at the bar, the uproar of a tipsy crowd and the good humor of illicit activity in great company. The tipsiness was certainly here, but there was a low sort of unease that you felt from the room - and the kind of pride that didn't leave you warm and welcomed, but with a creeping chill and the feeling of calculating eyes on your back.

You hadn't realized just how accustomed you had gotten to the presence of monsters in your life. Their absence left a deep ache in your core. With a deep breath and the practiced slip of a confident smile on your face for your performance, you let that ache fill with determination and perseverance and kindness and every warm feeling you had felt and still feel as you were welcomed into your family at Del Alma, adding the thrill of danger and the decisively powerful connection that you had somehow forged with the Core, your newest extension of family - Undyne's cocky bravery, Papyrus' charming readiness, Sans' clever jokes and steadfast cunning and subtly staggering strength-

You exhaled gently and smiled. "Hello, ladies and gents. It's an absolute honor to be here," you shot a wink in the direction of the bar and heard more than a few intrigued chuckles and murmurs as the band behind you started up the intro to your first song per your earlier request. "I'll be something of a lead for the next few songs in setting up that jazzy atmosphere we all have a taste for… so lean back and relax or dust off those shoes and dance, grab a drink and tip your servers, and let's get this party going again."

Without missing a beat, you slid into your first song with a warm voice and a disarmingly easy smile.


"It will be at least several more hours before she is ready."

The dripping pull of Gaster's presence had alerted Sans of his approach, but it was still close to jarring to hear him just that close.

Sans turned around, leaning against the kitchen counter he had been facing. He held a blood-red drink in one hand and let his usual shit-eating grin settle on his face.

"lo sé harto bien," Sans replied. "i doubt she'll be outta there before 2. bit of a waiting game till then."

"And so you drink," Gaster said dryly. He had his arms comfortably tucked behind his back, his surreally tall stature looming over Sans.

Sans smirked up at Gaster. He took a long, well-savored sip from his glass - it was not a drink he was particularly proud of, even if it tasted fine, but he knew that the thought of mixing ketchup and magical whiskey was abhorrent to Gaster. He enjoyed the look on his boss' face nearly as much as the rich burn of the alcohol.

"and so i drink," Sans agreed as he lowered his drink. A moment passed, and then he shrugged and swirled the glass, looking into it. His tolerance to the stuff was higher than it ought to be, and it had been a long time since he'd had too much to be able to work. Gaster knew this, Sans knew it, so not much needed to be said. Still… his thoughts strayed to you. He and Papyrus would leave early to be ready for you just in case, but there were a lot of what-if's. Many of them they had gone over with you earlier, and you had even brought up a few of your own that he was impressed by your forethought on. You were quick on your feet, you were great as an expected member of a team, you were thorough - and por las estrellas the kind of heart you showed-

"It would be much easier if we could track her, wouldn't it," Gaster's musing interrupted Sans' train of thought.

He fought the urge to roll his eyes and took another drink instead. "and the stars shine brightest at night," Sans replied sardonically.

Gaster ignored Sans' cheek and went on. "She is tied irrevocably to El Fuego Del Alma at this point, and is indebted to us…"

Sans' spine went rigid as his mind suddenly caught up to Gaster's meaning. "... boss."

Gaster continued. "And it's evident that she is aware of that, yet works well - she's provided us with some excellent information, interestingly enough. Even now she has delved into the very belly of the lair of those who would clearly do her harm."

Sans looked up towards Gaster, his soul pulsing distantly in his chest. "boss-" Their eyes met. Gaster's were narrowed thoughtfully, his mind already at its destination even as his words pulled Sans along to his conclusion.

"She is too deep to remove herself now, for better or for worse. Yet I find her soul powerful, earnest, and her position is incredibly valuable to us for a number of reasons."

The room fell away around them as Sans and Gaster's gazes remained locked. Power thrummed through Sans' bones as surely as it did through Gaster's form.

"I would like to see her soul, Sans, should she succeed tonight. To confirm her intentions, her nature-"

"-to tie her to us permanently," Sans finished for him. His words were nearly a growl as his instincts warred. It was far more than just dangerous to be tied to the monster mob - it might as well be a death sentence. If not soon, then certainly sooner than later- their lives were a dance with death and dust, running from the human law and ill intent to bring a crucial supply of magical food and drink to their community, alongside the thrill of risk and joy and excitement in the shadows of a world that doubted their worth as an entire species.

Even still, you were already tied to the monster community, and by your own words it was willingly done and far preferred. The fierceness by which he knew you'd protect your family at Del Alma was a fluid jive with death as it was, and what he wouldn't give to be able to better protect your fierce and kind soul, to be able to catch on quicker when danger was in front of you, to have you know that he and the Core would have your back as well as you'd be expected to have theirs-

"The bond of family won't be broken," Gaster replied, his voice a soft rumble. "If she's really as good in intent as we believe we've seen, then this will only benefit both sides." He eyed Sans knowingly. "And I believe you've already reached that conclusion, as well."

Sans grimaced.

"... it has to be her choice, at least upfront," he finally ground out.

He wanted to protect you, but he'd be damned to hell and back again if you felt you were forced into this. There wasn't much choice in terms of your involvement now - no, you had probably sealed your fate there when you first wandered into the monster district, with overarching human-monster relations being what they were - but this was a different level of involvement.

No, seeing your soul, interacting with it in the way they would - that would forge a bond that wouldn't be broken by anything but your final breath itself.

The thought sent a grim chill down Sans vertebrae.

The mark on your soul would be permanent, but it may just be worth the potential cost. It wasn't a common one, as there were only a few type of bonds souls could make, and all of them were permanent and regarded with the weight of life itself. In the Core, only the inner circle shared that kind of bond, and if you agreed that would cement your role and relationship with them… and provide you with a nearly unmatched level of security for the power of the group you'd be connected to.

Sans realized suddenly that he was genuinely hoping you would accept.

The feeling sent the breath he didn't need rushing out of him.