AN: Welcome back! Chapter 2 is here. Just a little look into life in the Gaster household from the perspective of its matriarch. I really wanted to take more of a look at her and what drives her. So, here she is! Enjoy!

Chapter 2

How Nyala Got Her Groove Back

When the door closed behind Corbel, Nyala let out a long sigh, rolling out her shoulders and tilting her head from side to side to stretch her neck.

With Corbel out of the house, her entire evening was free. A bit of a smirk pulled at her mouth at the thought. She had the entire evening and the entire home to herself! She could do whatever she wanted. Her smirk turned into a grimace when she realized the main flaw in her plan.

She had no idea what to do next.

She supposed she could prepare her lesson plan for the next week. Her students were set to begin learning about the color spectrum and the basics of the color wheel . . . but this was the weekend! Shouldn't she do something fun and NOT work related?

When was the last time she painted anything that she wanted to paint? Gone somewhere she wanted to go? When was the last time she danced or sang for an open-mic night?

She let out another long sigh. Surely her life was more than just this. Yes, she loved her son and her husband and she wouldn't dream of changing a single aspect of that part of her life, but she couldn't help but wonder what happened to her. Before she was married, before she had a son, she was her own monster. Where had that monster gone?

Well, why not find her again? She had the whole evening, after all!

Nodding in conviction, Nyala turned around to head back into her bedroom to find something more fun to wear. And it wasn't even six steps later that she heard the front door open.

"I'm home." Said a deep rumble.

Nyala's smile spread and became slightly impish. Even better!

"Welcome back, Wingdings, Honey!" She greeted, turning around once again and making her way to the front door where her husband was busy shedding his effects from the work day. He'd already removed his shoes and was lining them near the inside of the door. His briefcase sat idle at his feet as he started to remove his coat.

As Nyala approached him, the man seemed to stall for a moment, as if he could feel something a bit off.

"Where's Corbel?" He asked, "Isn't he supposed to be getting ready for a big school dance or something? I have something for him. Is he in his room?"

"Actually, you just missed him." She cooed, standing very near him. She brushed his hands away and continued to unbutton the front of his blazer for him, "He and Undyne left just a few minutes ago. You didn't pass them on your way?"

"No . . ." The doctor answered, a little surprised with how quickly his wife had been able to undo his buttons and was now slipping her hands under the lapels to push the fabric over his shoulders. She seemed to be sure to feel at his chest as she worked, "I-I- um. I quick-travelled here. I wanted to be sure to-to catch him before he left. Wh-what's gotten into you, Nyala? Not that I'm complaining."

Nyala hummed, inwardly taking pride in catching her husband off guard to the point that he was left stammering over his words. Heh, she still had it! Now that the jacket was over his shoulders, she reached through his arms to pull the collar down lower behind his back. Since his arms were still in the sleeves, they were trapped in place. Nyala used this to her advantage and stepped even closer to him. She leaned up to whisper in his ear.

"Wingdings, baby," She smiled, "The house is empty and you're home early. We can do whatever we want."

The doctor swallowed slightly even as his wife's infectious smirk found its way to his face as well, "So it is." He answered, "Why don't you tell me what you want to do?"

"I want . . ." Nyala's whisper trailed off.

"Yes . . . ?"

"You . . ."

The doctor scoffed, leaning in over her, "I see. Well, I believe that can be arr—"

". . . to take me out."

The doctor halted, trying to regain himself and blink himself back to where his wife was giggling into his shirt. "Wait-what?"

"Such a filthy mind!" She hummed, "Take me on a date first. It's been so long since we went out- just the two of us! Let's go to dinner, have a few drinks, laugh and relax. We can take a walk around Waterfall and maybe even visit the wishing room. Then, after that, maybe we can come back here and do . . . other things, but you have to earn it first!"

Gaster pulled back to look back at his wife, her eyes filled with a youthful eagerness he hadn't seen in years and she even wore that adorable pout. The pout from their youth that could get her anything she wanted- and it often did.

It looked like it was going to work again in her favor. She still had it.

"Alright." He hummed, "You've got a deal. We'll go right now."

"What!? Really!?" She squeaked, genuinely shocked.

"Of course!" the doctor smiled, "Just grab your shoes and we'll get going!"

"What!?" She repeated, tearing herself away. She looked down on herself assessing her appearance. "I can't go out in this!"

"Why not?" her husband questioned, "You always look breathtaking regardless of what you wear."

"Oh, Wingdings." Nyala cooed once again, using her hand to indicate her denim day dress that she only wore on days when she had no other plans. It was paint-stained and tattered in some areas and she was sure she spilled bleach on it a few times, "Honey . . . no."

Taking a few more steps backward, Nyala gripped the ends of her dress. "Just give me about ten minutes, okay?"

Gaster cracked a fond smile, following her those few steps. Reaching out with both hands, he took her cheeks gently and leaned in to softly kiss her. He could feel the slight tensing of the monster in his hands and knew he did his job well. It wasn't often he could feel the butterflies he gave her. She took his wrists in her hands, letting out a slightly shaking breath.

"I love you." Gaster whispered back to her. "Enough to wait ten minutes for you to change."

"Ten minutes." Nyala repeated just as quietly, "Just . . . wait here."

"As you wish."

They parted after that, Nyala spinning on her toes to flutter down the hall toward their bedroom. She already knew exactly what she wanted to wear. She just needed to pull the outfit together. Maybe she could even be ready in five minutes!

Gaster smiled after his wife as she disappeared into their room. No matter how long they'd been together, how many kisses they'd shared, times they'd held each other, he could never get enough of his beautiful bride and he could never miss the opportunity to try to fluster her. Lately, (and by lately, he supposed he had to say the past seventeen years since he became the royal scientist) he had to admit, he'd been home less often than he would have liked. It was getting to the point that moments like these were becoming more and more rare and he was beginning to feel a distance forming between him and his family. Corbel was fifteen already and going to dances, beginning to date . . . and he'd missed the entire thing. He'd missed watching his little boy grow and become a young man.

And his wife . . .

She deserved a night out. It was the very least he could do for her. She deserved so much more. So much more than he could ever give her. So, for tonight, the least he could do was make her smile and fulfill her request.

As he readjusted his jacket, he took a few more steps into the living room, toward the couch, where he intended to wait the ten minutes. He had to admit, it felt nice to be home, to sit in his couch without having texts and formulae and blueprints he needed to pour over. Reports he needed to analyze, proofread, file, and submit. Deadlines he needed to keep. To have the promise of wonderful company for the evening and the hopes of a fun and memorable evening. Maybe he needed this too.

Work was becoming extremely demanding and draining, even for him. Now that the CORE was reaching completion, it was eating up a lot of his time and energy, leaving him as little more than a husk that dared called itself a monster.

Perhaps after the CORE was complete, he could take his family out on a vacation! Maybe a resort trip where he could treat his wife to a spa and his son to . . . to . . .

Gaster leaned his head back, trying to place his finger on just when he'd lost all connection to his son and knowledge of his interests. Was he still a fan of the sciences? Did he still love geology? What was his favorite subject in school? Did he have any crushes? Were there any sports teams he wanted to try out for? What did he and his friends do for fun?

When had he lost Corbel? When had he become a complete stranger?

Gaster fidgeted with the thin chain in his pocket as he continued to stare at the ceiling. He ran his thumb over the smooth metallic surface and fingered the etchings on the face. His father's pocket watch had been a comfort for him since he was about his son's age. It was the only thing he had of his father and he'd hoped that after he'd restored it, he would be able to give it to his son.

Would Corbel even have liked his gift for him?

Gaster let his eyes slide shut as he let out another long sigh.

With two minutes to spare, Nyala pulled the last item of her outfit, a wide yellow belt with a large, ornate, silver buckle, around her waist to complete her look. The deep blue off-the-shoulder blouse was a favorite of both hers and her husband's- hers because it was comfortable and cute with just the right amount of poof and drapery, and her husband's because it showed off her neck and clavicle and teased at her sternum. It was a sure-fire way to keep his attention all night. In contrast, she wore a long flowing white skirt. A favorite of hers . . . mainly because she loved the way it flared as she spun around. Maybe it'd put them both in a dancing mood.

With a final twirl, looking at the effect of the outfit in the mirror, she decided she was ready to head out.

"Wingdings!" She called, "Are you ready? I'll be there in a second!"

There was no response.

She peeked out of the room and down the hallway, "Wingdings . . . Hon?"

Grabbing her purse from the dresser, she emerged, ready to go. Ten minutes, just like she said. Maybe he was waiting for her outside, maybe he'd grabbed something quick to drink.

"Baby? Let's go!"

She stopped when she reached the living room. There he was, reclined on the couch with his head tilted back, fast asleep. He still had his blazer on and he still looked as if he was ready to go, but sleep had gotten the better of him before his wife could. Ten minutes was too long.

Nyala let out a bit of a huff. Maybe she should have gone in her paint-dress. Maybe then she could've had a nice evening with her husband! Maybe she just should have had sex with him instead of teasing him with it! At least that way they both could have gone to bed satisfied. Damn it, was it so wrong to want to have fun? Make a night of it! Keep the fire burning before the kindling was snuffed out?

Maybe she should wake him up! They'd made a deal after all! He'd promised to wait ten minutes! She'd kept up her end of the bargain!

But as she looked at him, she just couldn't bring herself to do that to him. He'd been working so hard for so long . . . any rest he could get was a treat . . . and well-deserved. He was working himself ragged, not only for her and for their son, but for the entire Underground, for the king and queen.

He was just one monster. How far could they expect him to stretch himself? So much that there wasn't even enough left for her!?

And now . . . and now she was back to square one.

She could let him rest . . . no she would let him rest. If he was this tired, he would've just been miserable if they'd gone out, fighting all night to keep himself awake for her sake. If they were going for a date, then she wanted him at his best.

She could still go out . . . she'd be alone, but she could still go . . . but that didn't hold as much appeal anymore. She'd really been looking forward to a date night. Now that she was date-less . . .

Maybe she could take a page from Corbel's book and call up some co-worker friends and they could go out . . . if they weren't already busy . . . but then, would they end up spending the entire night talking about work . . .? Besides, those kinds of things were better planned in advance.

Damn it . . .

She approached the couch where the love of her life had fallen and she leaned over him, stroking his skull with her fingers before touching her head to his.

"I miss you, dearest." She confessed, willing herself not to lose her composure.

She kissed him and pulled away, making to sit beside him on the couch instead. She curled up and fitted herself to his side as she tried to make herself relax.

"So much for that idea."