#mf!sans

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You stared down at the gift in the hands of a stranger - some henchman, you guessed - a wrapped box in his hands that you could only guess held some nerdy thing Sans thought you might like. You weren't falling for it though.

"Take it back." You were glaring at the box - and your distaste unfortunately extended to the poor furry monster in front of you, a black and white dog monster with an unlit cigarette in his mouth. They all knew you didn't like it when they smoked near your home.

He was sweating like a man on death row. "Kid…" He basically was at this point. "Please don't make me take it back."

You crossed your arms in front of you, warm wooly blanket over your shoulders to shield you from the chill of the winter as you stood in your doorway, refusing to let the monster past your porch with the offensive gift - Sans' signature on a little card attached to the package. "Well, if you give it to me, I'll just toss it out, which seems like even more of a waste." You huffed, rolling your eyes, frustration bubbling. "Stars knows he'd kill whatever poor soul gets ahold of it if I give it away."

He'd kill me too. The dog monster thought as well. "What's so wrong with it, you don't even know what's in it." He defended, trying to save his own skin.

"Do you know the saying 'if you give them an inch, they'll take a mile'?" You rose your eyebrow at him, and he could do nothing but slowly nod, very obviously in an awkward spot. "Fine." You sighed. "Tell him if he wants something from me, then man up and come and ask me himself rather than sending me reminders of all the ways he'd crush me under his thumb." You gestured vaguely to the henchman himself.

"Uh… ok…" He was still sweating up a storm, knowing he'd have to severely sugarcoat your request if he wanted to make it out alive the next time he reported to Sans that you had once again rejected a present from him. Gyftmas was coming closer and closer and he was running out of things to send to you that you might accept.

Your father was a man of wealth, and Sans would never send you anything that wasn't unreasonably expensive or luxurious to try and win your hand. He knew, but it didn't seem to stop him, that you had left your large manor filled with a dozen brothers and sisters who worked under your father's three Michelin star restaurant and catering service. Most of your siblings adored cooking and were exceptionally good at it - the ones that weren't all hand some hand in the business side of your father's restaurant. And your eldest brother - the infamous fucker he was - had been the one who had fed your family's business to the mafia, making it a prime chain of restaurants to be visited by those with blood stained golden rings.

Sans was one of them.

He knew your family. He had made plenty of dealings with your eldest brother to make your family wealthy, but of all your siblings, it was you he was most interested in. You caught his eye on your way out - when your father threw you a large party for your admission into a prestigious, ivy league, private university for the sciences rather than culinary. While your siblings were baking cakes, you alone were making baking soda volcanos. He had been invited to the event when you were fresh out of a very speedy undergraduate degree and heading into a promising graduate school.

You knew who he was as he spoke with you, and because of that, you kept your patience short and your walls infamously high. He loved it - saw it as a challenge - and it only further pissed you off. You wanted nothing to do with the now tainted business your eldest brother had created.

But even now, a hundred miles away from your family's manor, Sans still tried to woo you as you held yourself together living on your own. It was annoying. Sure, if your family was any lower in status and power than they were, he'd be able to snatch you in the middle of the day and no one would blink an eye - but if that wasn't part of the enticing challenge, then he wouldn't have even bothered with you.

What a bother.

"Go on then, get out of here." You waved the henchman away, closing the door behind you as you turned away.

You'd made them open the previous gifts just to see what he'd gotten you, and you were just a little more ticked off the more you saw them. First it was flowers, then it was jewelry, then clothes, then food. Sure, he'd only really been sending you gifts when the month started, as per the season, but before, he'd send you invites to dinner or a party or some other event. He'd even canceled a conference of yours from your university to make your availability more free for him to try and take you out. You'd snapped at him hard enough to break a bone that day. He didn't try something like that again. Instead, this was his new tactic.

It was all of 15 minutes before you'd heard another knock on your door. You were cuddled up on your couch, just trying to get through your reading for the day before you sighed and stood. You really couldn't ever catch a break, could you?

No you could not. "mornin' doll." You tried to close the door on his face - but he held it open just a crack by keeping his hand on the outside of the door. He didn't even try to grab it by the edge. He didn't want to intrude on your property that much. "please, c'mon, sweetheart, at least lemme show ya what i got for ya." He begged.

"Leave, Sans." You had never given him your address, but when it came to a man who dealt with underground crime, you didn't even have to wonder how he'd gotten it all those months ago. "I don't want your gifts, and I don't want anything to do with you. I'm separate from my family. I'm busy anyway."

"please," He'd never been this insistent in all his attempts to coax you into whatever plan he'd laid out. Never enough to show up himself for his gifts - to be fair, he knew you didn't really want to see him, but now you said for him to - and never enough to beg twice when asking you in person. "just tell me if ya'd like it - ya don't gotta keep it - i just… wanna know. if i was someone else, would ya have accepted it?" But you had no idea that he wasn't a man to beg in the first place.

You gave him a sharp side eye from the doorway, frown deep as you glared at him, eyeing the box in his hands. "Open it." You replied curtly.

He seemed to light up, surprise and excitement barely restrained as he pulled apart the wrapper and card… inside was a music box… but not any normal music box. In a glass dome with a wooden base was a music box that when wound, would not only play music, but turn the mechanical solar system orrery.

Your eyes widened, looking up from the intricate mechanical piece to look at him. His eye lights flickered back and forth from your face to the gift… It looked old. Not something you would buy fresh off a factory or even have hand made, but something that was antique almost. There was an fondness in his eyes as he glanced back at the music box, and anxiety when he scanned your face for a reaction.

"Where did you get this?" You finally asked.

"sometimes when yer reminiscing, ya remember things ya forgot existed until then." He admitted.

"Do you know what this is…?" You turned to look at him, pointing at the music box, steely gaze staring him down.

"not technically." He was sweating a little bit. "but…" That fond look crossed his eyelights again for a flash of a second. "i remember usin' one a' these when i was a kid bored in the library."

"You went to the library as a child?" Ok that one was a little harsh - but the words flew out of your mouth before you could think twice.

He barked out a laugh. Thank goodness he took that in good nature. "heh, yeah. used to be… obsessed with this kinda stuff." He muttered, holding it out to you. "thought it was the kind of… nerdy thing that a scientist like yerself would enjoy."

"Nerdy…" You repeated, your tone much less offended than he thought it would be after he called you a nerd. "Mm… I see." You stared at it for a while longer before you sighed. "If I don't take it, what are you going to do with it?"

He piped up, his back straightening a little bit as he towered over you. "probably toss it onto a dusty ol' bookshelf in my study that i never go to." He admitted.

"That won't do." You glared at him again, putting your hands on your hips. "These require good care if you want them to last, or they'll just collect dust and the music box part will probably rust, which is a waste." You took the music box from his hands, tracing your finger around the glass. "Even if the inside is in a vacuum and won't rust, it shouldn't sit on a shelf unappreciated."

He was standing stiff in your doorway, staring at you with wide eye sockets and his hands still held out from when he was still holding the gift - the first ever you'd accepted from him.

"It'll need maintenance when the music box part rusts…" You stared at the orrery part with something almost akin to affection. "It was expensive, wasn't it?" You weren't really asking, just trying to fill the awkward silence of him trying not to grin like a madman that you'd finally given him an inch. "It's an instrument-" in both senses. "it'll need cleaning and polishing." You were just repeating yourself.

"then… you'll keep it?"

"Who will if I don't?" You looked up at him - he really was grinning like a madman. There was a long silence before you finally swallowed your pride. "Thank you."

"'course, doll, anythin' fer ya." He tipped his hat to you, almost smug - which got him glared at, and he dropped the smugness with an awkward clearing of his throat. "see ya, sweetheart."

"Hopefully not." You replied on instinct, but he could only smile at your sass.

"afraid hope's for the soft of heart." He winked, and disappeared in an instant from your porch.

You closed the door as soon as he was gone and sighed, walking your gift to the dining table to admire it and turn the crank, you couldn't help but lay your head on the table and hum along with the familiar tune.

"Raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens," You really shouldn't have given him an inch.

"Bright copper kettles and warm woolen mittens," Oh, but how could your nerdy heart not accept a gift like this knowing he'd leave it to rust.

"Brown paper packages tied up with strings," The planets and stars twirled along with the music and your soft singing.