Sadly, you were relieved that you didn't need to pay anything for Sans' "check-up". But you did feel bad when he finally woke up weak and disoriented. You helped dress him into his regular clothes and propped him onto your hip, he was large enough that his old clothes were a bit tight on him now. His baggy shorts hugged under the large curve of his ilium and his newly grown tail prevented them from being pulled up even more. He didn't bother with a shirt, but his baggy jacket was now a form fitted jacket.

Max had given you a bag of donated clothes that would fit Sans for now, a copy of the faxed report, and further instructions with emergency contacts. You pet Sans' skull all the way home. You helped him bathe (poor dear was too exhausted to be embarrassed), dressed him up, and bundled him in blankets on the couch and turned the T.V. onto a random documentary.

The paperwork claimed that he may be a little nauseated so you made ketchup soup (you warmed ketchup in a pot. That's soup right?) and tea. You spoon fed him until he was able to sit up straighter and guzzle down all the warmed up ketchup. A little while more he finished off the tea and curled up in your lap, eye lights twinkling like the stars and galaxies on the screen.

"You feeling better?"

Sans' only answer was a loud thwumping from his tail on the cushion next to you. Upon closer inspection, you can see that the top layer of bone from the base all the way to the end was tinged blue and you frowned. It seemed his new extremity would be very sensitive for a while. At least until the blue fades to white.

Running your fingers consistently all over his skull revealed a few bumps. They weren't noticeable by just looking, but lining up your fingers with each bump seemed they were ment to be something more caused by his mutation. Maybe they would've been horns? They seemed to have lined up that way. Either way, Sans seems to enjoy you lightly scratching those areas now.

You weren't very interested in documentaries, but you did enjoy watching funny video's on your phone.

"i don't mean to be delayed but isn't it time for bed?"

Quickly checking your screen to confirm the time, "Oh! Your right it i-"

…

"Was that a pun?"

Sans tensed up in your lap and looked away. You recover the relaxed atmosphere by giggling into the back of your hand. You liked corny stuff, and puns? Puns are just the corniest. Sans looked back up you with the biggest grin and jammed his head into the side of your neck and clung to you. Yup, ready for bed. Prop your arms under where his rump would be to support his new added weight and carry him into your room. Crawling into bed and snuggling up, your still surprised on how a skeleton can produce heat, but you weren't complaining. Kiss his brow and murmur a soft good night, the two of you fell asleep fast.

Everyone was excited to see Sans. They gushed over his tail and treated him to ketchup packets from different restaurants. Looks like he was officially apart of everyday life now. But you did run into the issue of him sitting on your desk. With permission from Chief, an empty desk was shoved up against yours and Sans even got his own name plate to prop up on the corner. (It was just cardboard with his name written on it with lots of glitter and doodles.)

Had gone over all the pictures from the case your superior took over. The man whom passed away under unknown circumstances was still nameless. His DNA didn't match up with anyone which raised everyone's suspicions. But with no more viable information, the case was put to the side.

Releasing Sans' magic was actually kind of cool? When unlatching the valves his left eye would bleed out blue magic, spark, and flare up like a flame. Slowly the blaze will calm down and it'd be just smoky wisps of blue. You were confused as to why only the left side released his magic, but Sans would shrug off your inquiries. It usually took a while for the magic to die down from his eye too, perhaps because the other didn't work that way?

Sans also seemed to go more confident as the days went by.

He was a funny little bugger. His demeanor and eyes looked more relaxed, though you've grown close enough to easily see how fast he can go from relaxed to stressed, tense, and on guard. When out in public he'd walk in front of you. He'd shoot jokes and puns out left and right. "i decided that becoming a vegetarian was a mis-steak." "but no seriously, can we get some vegs?"

Though there was a lot of trial and error. You learned to completely avoid spaghetti noodles and tomato sauce. You had to put away your red scarf and purchase a different color that was shorter and less flowy.

On one of your shopping trips, you learned Sans had become quite protective. He would raise his back like a cat trying to appear larger, though with him it would cause the back of his shirt and jacket to get torn up from his slightly sharp spinous process. It still worked the same and would intimidate your harassers (and other pedestrians). Because of this, you had Sans cling to your back and you would wear a jacket over him. Nice and dark for a napping skeleton, and easier in and out shopping runs. People had suspected you were wearing a backpack until the "fake bone tail connected to your jacket" was a REAL bone tail connected to your cuddle monster.

Sans had gone on a few more cases with you, they were simple enough and due to his help, Sans earned his own plastic badge. He would act like it was no big deal until he would hold it up with pride before chasing down a running perp with you.

But today. You were tense. It had been a few months, the air was cool enough you could wear your new not red plain scarf and a large jacket. The weather wasn't why you were tense. Another body was found. A Jane Doe this time. She was young, but older than you. The wrinkles on her face causing a permanent scowl. Sans had poked his head from underneath your jacket, but he acted perfectly fine. Maybe because he wasn't face to face but at a short distance?

Detective Larson was walking around looking for clues. There were signs of a small struggle (an empty briefcase left open on the ground away from the woman) and her casual clothing was a mess. The side of Sans' skull was pressed up against your ear, you could literally hear the cogs turning and the hamster wheel squealing. His eyes scanned the women, darted around the empty storage shed, then back at her. He huffed and sunk back down into the shadowy depths of your coat.

After closer examination at the morgue, they found Monster dust under her fingernails. Before leaving, Sans finally spoke up from your back.

"see that freckle on the shell of her left ear? look at it closer."

The mortician took Sans' advice and 'hmmed' in thought.

"Well?" Larson barked out and nudged the mortician to the side to get a look for himself. "Oh."

"What is it?"

"It's a black heart."

"Okay?"

The mortician grabs a magnifying glass and looks closer, "As I thought, it is a tattoo. I'd say a few years old."

"you should check that unclaimed body from last time to see if he has the same thing."

Everyone looked to Sans in question before dispersing. "What was that about?" Sans shrugged. "I may have an idea on who these people are."

OoOoO

Thank you all for the comments, ya'll are really amazing.