Chapter Text
Today is Absolute Garbage so you're eating your lunch outside for once. To hell with everyone and everything. Work's been a disaster from the second you set your foot in the door this morning so you've taken it upon yourself to grab a little fresh air. There's a small park only a five minute walk from where you work and your lunch is in a thermos. Of course the boss would take their sweet time getting the microwave repaired. Your coworkers weren't driving you mad on purpose or anything; it was just one of those days where something small goes wrong the second you set foot out of bed and your bad mood gradually snowballs at every little thing until you're Completely Done with the world. One of those days. You're absentmindedly watching a squirrel fight some pigeons for park trash when a booming voice startles you back to planet freaking Earth.
"EXCUSE ME, HUMAN. I COULDN'T HELP BUT NOTICE THAT YOU'VE MADE A GRAVE MISTAKE IN YOUR COOKING." There is a six foot something skeleton looming over you.
"Excuse me?" You're not sure if you should feel terrified, insulted, or both. Why is there a monster talking to you? You're just trying to exist in a space and eat your food. Everyone knows that monsters have terrifying powerful magic. Aren't they supposed to keep to themselves the way they always do? You don't want to piss him off so you decide to tread lightly.
"YOUR PASTA SAUCE IS ALL WRONG. HOW DID YOU MANAGE TO DRAIN IT OF ITS COLOUR?" He leans forward as if completely perplexed by the idea of a white pasta sauce. How many years has it been since monsters have been on the surface now? Surely enough that this dude could've come across a freaking Alfredo sauce.
"There's nothing wrong with it?" It wasn't a question but nerves made you raise your voice at the end. You recover quickly. "It's, um, called an Alfredo sauce. There's no tomato or anything in it; it's mostly cream." The skeleton has taken a seat at your picnic table without an invitation. You tense up.
"WOWIE!" The skeleton's eyes light up. "I HAD NO IDEA HUMANS COULD BE SO CREATIVE IN THEIR COOKING. TO THINK THEY WOULD MAKE SPAGHETTI SAUCE WITHOUT A SINGLE VEGETABLE. WHAT DOES THAT EVEN TASTE LIKE?" His sincere enthusiasm catches you off guard.
You're not sure why but for some reason this monster suddenly scares you a lot less. You chuckle and offer him the last three or four bites and he exclaims joyfully. It's almost adorable. This giant terrifying skeleton is adorable? You exchange names. His name is ("the great") Papyrus. As it turns out, he was on his way to the store to get ingredients for a cooking lesson when he spotted you. He confides that the first thing he ever learned to cook properly was spaghetti so pasta has always been his Big Favourite (a common monster term for something held deeply close to one's heart).
It isn't until you realize that you're going to be late getting back to work that you cut the conversation short. The skeleton seems upset but understanding. His sadness to see you leave hits you more than it should and you offer to give him a copy of your Alfredo sauce recipe. Not really wanting to give any of your personal information to a monster you just met, you both agree to meet in the park for lunch the next day.
--
The next day you're sitting in the park with Papyrus and trying to explain what a roux is. He doesn't seem to understand cooking basics at all despite having let you sample a bit of his relatively decent lunch. The meal is interrupted when you find a hand on your shoulder.
"Now why would you go around eating lunch at the same table as a monster, babe?" Interrogates a stereotypically obtuse-looking meathead. There are two more of a similar caliber standing behind him.
Nope.
"We're eating lunch?" You hunch your shoulders and respond, slowly? …Hesitantly?
"AH YES, THIS HUMAN IS SHARING HER KNOWLEDGE OF MAKING DAIRY SAUCE FOR PASTA." Papyrus chimes in, obviously having no idea what the implications of this group are.
"Well darling, lemme tell it to ya straight." Begins harasser number one, clicking his tongue, "We don't really like seeing our kind getting mixed up with monsters in this neighbourhood. Don't want to lose it to a buncha demons." His hand is still on your shoulder and you can feel it tighten somewhat as he says this.
Nope. Nope.
At the word "demon," Papyrus seemed to have picked up on the nature of this confrontation. That was a pretty shitty slur to throw around. "NOW. NOW. THAT IS A RATHER RUDE WORD. FEAR NOT THOUGH, FOR I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, WILL ELECT TO FORGIVE YOU, SHOULD YOU APOLOGIZE."
Oh man. They did not look happy to hear this. The background goons start shifting.
Nope. Nope. NOPE.
You nudge Papyrus with your knee and mouth, "We. Need. To. Run." Facing away from the three beefcakes.
What you were not expecting is for him to hurl you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes when he follows through.