Can I take you to dinner? Watty's edition

Calico V.S Sans

Grillby still hadn't returned.

Prior to this, you hadn't thought that taking out the trash would take a whole five minutes- but day by day you always managed to be proved wrong by the man. At least you had Bessie Smith to keep you company, the uneven record teetering wildly on the copper phonograph in the corner. You scrubbed in rough, bristled circles, the water filled with floating sinewy scraps, the surface barely frothy with detergent. Your knuckles were raised and red from the frosted sink, your thumb running along them with a sigh in a way reminiscent to— You plunged your hands into the arctic water again, face flushed angrily as you scrubbed determinedly. That skeleton fella was bad news.

Bad news indeed.

—

"So, what have ya got for me?" Sans started, phalanges in coat pockets- keeping the surprise of life-or-death truly alive. Grillby swallowed, giving a light cough. "W-Well- uh, what would you like to know?" His soul was aching under his guilt, this was your privacy he was exchanging! And for what?! Being on the brink of death? "Fuckin' hell- were ya always this much of a boob*?" Sans shook his lowered head, Grillby only staring on as Sans sighed gruffly. "What I wanted to know.." Sans began. "Is how damn much to take the lil' lady out?" Grillby flinched, locking his fingers together. "She's- she's not really your normal type— you normally go after r-real Shebas** and she's not really—" "I'm looking to broaden my horizons, she's a sweet lil' thing- all cute'n'nervous. Might change things up a lil'." he chuckled as he advanced, outlined in the harsh orange streetlight. He stopped a mere breath from Grillby, glaring down. "Now, how much?" He pressed, Grillby flickering dully as he sighed. "I can't sell her."

"Ya have ten seconds before I set fire to the deeds."

Grillby quaked under the brunt of the decision. "I- I can't sell her Sans! Please do my conscious a favour and ask something else- anything else!" Grillby spurted, Sans scowling. "....Tell me what she likes, everything since we'll have to go into this gently- Don't wanna frighten the lil' dame off..." "This is gently-?!" "Do we got a deal or not-?" Sans barked down at the quivering monster who only hung his head. There was only silence from the alley. "Ye've got nine secon—!"

"I'll see what I can do."

Grillby wasted no time in turning on his heel, rushing back up the stone block, feeling every inch a coward as he bounded through the door, head still intact. His back slumped against the door limply, chest heaving in the air he had forgotten to breathe. After he collected himself, he shot from the door, scrambling to find blessed paper and pen. What he found instead, was you powering through dishes furiously, murky water splashing across a lone, curious looking (half-dead) cacti you had taken a shining to.

"Pen?"

You whirled to him, frowning. "Hmm?" "Pen?" "What for?" "Pen!" He burst, flailing as he swept across a cluttered table, overturning papers and boxes before he found a pen, licking the dry nib experimentally- ink flowing. You watched as he set about his scribbling- Stopping- starting— stopping, raising his head to the roof with a long whimper before frantically scrawling again. He pulled a baking mitt over his fist, seizing the paper before dashing out again. You peered at his wake, half-burnt boxes and singed papers cresting the tiles. You sighed, clenching the scourer before a croon came from behind. Ah, yes- Grillby's newest fascination: Cats. Well, one in particular- Calico. Small, patched proudly with streaks of Ginger, sand and black. Formerly known as FluffNuggets, Kiki— so on, so on. Nothing ever really stuck, thankfully. Though- if one listened in carefully on a Thursday, far, far into the evening- one would hear Grillby demanding 'FluffNuggets to give daddy affection!'.

He was lonely- you couldn't blame the poor man.

"Evenin' Cal- looking for the fish?" You smiled, lowering the scourer. She blinked before curiously sniffing the cactus. You sighed, why she was his favourite- you had no idea. Nevertheless, you we're stuck with babysitting. "I'll go get it.." You grumbled, drying your hands before the back door blustered open. "Doll! How do you feel about being romanced over candle-lit dinner?" Grillby quizzed suddenly, earning a double take. "How do I feel about what?"