Pyromantic

The Uniform is a trap & Sans needs a slap

"Really?" you were kinda shocked at the proposal. Grillby seemed so in his element, you wouldn't want to gunk it up. He was waiting for your answer to his question, though. "Oh, right! Well, I have worked at a few diners in the past, so, I have quite a bit of experience."

     "Excellent," Grillby seemed to ponder something for a moment. "What are good hours for you?"

     "Anytime, really," to be honest, you didn't really have any irons in the fire currently, or ever really. "I am usually pretty free." Grillby seemed pleased with this.

     "Okay," he leaned on the counter, "how does 6 days a week, Sundays off, 12 pm to 2 am, minimum wage sound?"

     "Woah..." you were trying to find a bad point in his offer, but couldn't find one. You smiled widely, "When can I start?" Grillby seemed to beam as well, his flames growing a bit taller.

     "i think you should go ahead and start right now," Sans chimed in, laying his chin in his hands as he rested his elbows on the counter top. "if you're up to it, that is." he gave you a light smile.

     You looked up to Grillby, nodding.

     "I am so up for it," You felt so happy at the thought that things are already starting to look up. "Let's do this!" you felt filled with... Determination.

     Grillby motioned for you to follow him, so you hopped off of the stool, almost rolling up your sleeves, but stopped yourself, just folding them so they wouldn't be in the way, but didn't push them past your wrist.

     You followed Grillby back to the break room, where he led you to a closet that you had missed previously. You looked at him quizzically, and then got his meaning when he pulled out a more feminine version of his uniform, complete with a slightly frilled skirt. You gave him an unbelievable look.

    "Wait," you tried not to sound ungrateful. "Is that my uniform?" Grillby appeared to frown at this, flames shrinking. "Ah, I'm sorry," you tried to recover. "It's just, does it have to be a skirt? I'm not too good with, uh, showing... skin...."

     "me neither," said Sans, who appeared out of nowhere. "though, i think my problem is for different reasons." You suppressed a giggle while Grillby sighed.

     "This is all I have if you want to work today," Grillby replied.

     "you should try it on, i think you would look," he winked, " pretty hot ." You facepalmed, Grillby was silent, as usual, but was slightly blue.

     "As cool as that sounds," you began, "I just don't feel comfortable showing that much skin." You crossed your arms in defense. "Maybe I'd wear it if I had some tights, but seeing as I don't have any with me-"

     "do you own a pair?" asked Sans, out of the blue.

     "Well, yeah," you began, "But they're back at my place-" Sans cut you off.

     "one sec, grillbz," Sans grabbed you hand, "be right back." he also grabbed the uniform, and then teleported you both out of the resteraunt.

     When you had stopped spinning, you saw that you were now outside your apartment complex. Sans started moving towards the door, holding it open for you when he reached it.

     "Sans," you were still in shock. "What are we doing here? Let's go back to Grillby's."

     "nah," he shifted so now he was leaning against the door to hold it open. "how 'bout I cash in that favor?" he gave you a sly grin.

     "Wha- you little sneak," you walked through the door, getting out of the cold. "Why this?"

     "'cause this is a great opportunity for black mail," he handed you the uniform. "i'm joking, kid, chill out," he added after seeing your annoyed face, stuffing his hands in his pockets as you pressed the elevator call button. "you'll thank me later,"