[...so Sans asked these questions and still didn't take her to the police?
You know what? No. Nope. He's known Sans long enough to know that arguments just aren't worth it, not without a paycheck to dangle over his head (and even then. Every time Mettaton THOUGHT he won, Sans... STILL won). Instead, he settles for tossing himself back into his bed, face first, and letting out a long-suffering sigh. He lifts his legs once, then lets them flop back onto the mattress.
Stupid mysterious bag of bones.]
She can't see me like this. [Look at him. He has a cable running out of the back of his neck. That is nowhere near keeping a low profile.]
no subject
You know what? No. Nope. He's known Sans long enough to know that arguments just aren't worth it, not without a paycheck to dangle over his head (and even then. Every time Mettaton THOUGHT he won, Sans... STILL won). Instead, he settles for tossing himself back into his bed, face first, and letting out a long-suffering sigh. He lifts his legs once, then lets them flop back onto the mattress.
Stupid mysterious bag of bones.]
She can't see me like this. [Look at him. He has a cable running out of the back of his neck. That is nowhere near keeping a low profile.]