Would That Make You Happy?

Frisk is your child, the result of a teen pregnancy, but they've always been told that you're their older sister. In an effort to get away from your own abusive mother, the two of you end up falling into the Underground, where Sans is startled by this abrupt change in what had become a predictable pattern of events. Maybe your presence is what is needed to stop the endless cycle of Resets.

After many struggles, both internal and external, you and your found family reach the surface, only to face even more difficulties from the society you weren't sure you'd ever see again. You meet new friends and encounter people from your past, though for good or ill, you're not sure. Sometimes it's difficult to tell kindness from cunning.

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54. Polished and New

Today is the day. You're more nervous than you were expecting, spending the morning and early afternoon fretting over Frisk. Despite their repeated reassurances that they're fine —and they are, really— the idea of being away for the weekend has you anxious. Maybe you should call Alphys and just...

No. No, you agreed to this date and lord knows you need it. Besides, Frisk seems ready to get you out of the house. They keep asking when Alphys and Undyne are coming to take you back to the lab to get ready. They must be tired of your hovering.

Sans is nervous too, but you think that's more because Mettaton is involved. But after many reassurances that Undyne and Alphys will be with you the entire time, he finally relents and stops openly complaining. Though that doesn't stop him from frowning when he thinks you aren't looking. His complaints about the robot picking out clothing for him fall on deaf ears, however. You have to admit that you're curious about what Mettaton has in store for both of you. Maybe a little apprehensive as well. You've never really been one to dress up. Though, you've never had much of an opportunity to do so.

You're pacing in front of the couch, running through the mental checklist of the luggage you packed earlier. Shoes, socks, pants, shirts, underwear, extra bra (just in case), pajamas, toiletries... Did you pack your hairbrush? Wait, should you bring it with you to the lab? Mettaton said to pack everything the two of you needed for the weekend, but did that mean—

A loud knock and the muffled sound of familiar voices jolts you out of your head and Frisk leaps up from the sofa to answer the door. Alphys and Undyne step inside, bundled up in thick jackets and followed by Mettaton. He's in his humanoid 'EX' form today. Alphys must have finally fixed it. With a garment bag in one hand draped casually over his shoulder, he gives you a bright smile that makes you a little more apprehensive.

Sans is beside you before you notice, brushing your arm with his. "welp, looks like it's starting," he mutters.

Papyrus pokes his head out of the kitchen, brightening. "OH, WHO IS THIS NEW FRIEND ALPHYS?"

Alphys and Undyne are distracted talking to Frisk so it's Mettaton who ends up answering. The robot closes the distance between himself and the skeleton, sliding the garment bag off his shoulder and holding it up off the ground with one finger. His other hand taps Papyrus on the chest as he gives a playful laugh. "Oh sweetheart, it's me! Alphys finally fixed up my new body." Winking, he shifts his weight onto his other leg, quirking a hip to the side. "What do you think? Should I do a little turn so you can have a better look?"

Papyrus's cheeks have gone a dark shade of orange. "M-METTATON I HAD NO IDEA THAT WAS YOU! YOU, UM, LOOK SO DIFFERENT!"

"i'm gonna disassemble that calculator," Sans mutters.

Sensing danger, you walk over to Papyrus and Mettaton, pushing your way between them with a sweet smile. You hold your hand out for the garment bag. "Is that for Sans or for me?" you ask.

"Oh darling yours is back at the lab." He smiles at you but his expression quickly sours, his voice falling a little flat. "This is for Sans."

"OH, LET ME TAKE THAT THEN, METTATON. I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, WILL BE HELPING MY BROTHER GET READY LATER SO I CAN GO PUT THAT UPSTAIRS!" Papyrus offers enthusiastically.

"Oh you really are the sweetest thing, aren't you? Well if you insist," Mettaton purrs. Actually purrs. You can feel Sans's glare from across the room. The robot passes the bag around you to where Papyrus is waiting and he hurries away.

Mettaton's visible eye —the iris is pink, the same bright shade as his boots and chestplate— flicks back to you and you can see the aperture that makes up his pupil narrow as he focuses on you. It's a little unsettling, how human yet not he is. He reaches out to touch your shoulder, about to say something when you flinch away with a wince. Freezing, he slowly pulls away and folds his hands over his midriff. His expression softens into something apologetic and a little sad.

There's a moment where the two of you just look at each other, your heart pounding from being startled, and then Mettaton turns away to go talk to Sans. "Did you pack everything like I asked?" he asks your boyfriend in a clipped tone.

"yep," Sans says, looking up at him with a tight smile.

"I'll be back later to get your things and make sure you're dressed properly." Mettaton rests his hands on his hips, looking down his perfectly sculpted nose at Sans.

"i know how to dress myself."

"Do you know how to tie a tie?"

"HEY, how about we get going, huh?" Undyne cuts in. You give her a relieved look, but she's got her eye fixed on Mettaton.

You go over to where Frisk is hanging from Undyne's flexed bicep. Smiling at them, you poke them in the ribs with both hands which makes them dissolve into giggles, dropping back down to the ground and clutching their sides. You wrap them up in a tight hug. "You be good for Papyrus okay?"

Frisk hugs you back, hands tugging on the back of your shirt. "Okay."

"I'll miss you. You gonna miss me?"

"...Maybe," they grumble into you stomach.

"Maybe?" you echo with feigned shock.

Frisk laughs. "Okay... yes."

You're sitting on top of Alphys's bed in a bathrobe with your legs tucked under you, some thick sweet-smelling product soaking in your shower-capped hair, and Undyne sitting cross legged in front of you with an array of makeup spread out in front of her. You wonder exactly what you did in life to bring you to this point: being given a makeover by two monsters and a robot. Wait, if Mettaton is actually a ghost, does he count as a monster too? Three monsters. Giving you a makeover. For your date with your boyfriend, the skeleton.

This is normal now. This is your life. You have to admit, you can't think of anywhere else you'd rather be than here with your friends. And Mettaton.

"I still think I should be taking care of her makeup," Mettaton says with what you imagine is a pout. You can't look at him to check because Undyne will yell at you. Again.

The fish monster takes hold of your chin and tilts your head to the side so that she can do something with a thick makeup brush along your cheekbone. You honestly have no idea. "You don't even have skin Mettaton, what do you know about doing makeup? NOTHING!" Undyne snaps, grimacing a few inches away from your face. You try not to focus on her long, sharp teeth. "Don't worry punk, we're gonna take care of you."

"Y-yeah, don't worry! I promise you're going to look great!" Alphys says at your side. Your hand is on her knee as she hunches over it with two bottles of nail polish. One is clear and the other is a shade of blue that reminds you of Sans. It's cold as she swipes the polish down the length of your nails.

Mettaton grumbles —a mix between his voice and a grinding sound somewhere in his chest— and flops down dramatically in a nearby chair. "Well, once you're finished, I can get back to work," he says petulantly.

"Who do you think painted that pretty face of his anyway?" Undyne mutters under her breath to you, tilting your head back a little. "That's right, Alphys. You know all those figures she's got on her desk?"

You make an affirmative noise in your throat, too afraid to speak and move your face.

"She painted all of those herself."

Alphys lets out an embarrassed laugh. "I'm not so great with, um, makeup though. But I like doing nails!"

You've seen Undyne's handiwork in person so you're confident with her abilities with makeup (though you can only guess that Mettaton was the one to supply the foundation in the correct shade of brown for your complexion). You think that's what she's working on now, smoothing out a powder to set the foundation. Makeup has never really been something you spent much time on, just the bare minimum to clean yourself up for work. Natural colors, nothing too bright. So when Undyne puts down the big powder brush to rifle through a few sets of eyeshadow, you balk a little at the colors.

Undyne catches your change in expression, raising a brow at you. "What's up?"

"Aren't some of these colors a little, uh, bright?" you ask, biting the inside of your lip. You don't like questioning her judgment, you trust her, but you can't help it. ("Wasting your money to paint yourself up like some harlot? Your reputation is already bad enough, what are you thinking? Wash that crap off your face and don't come out here again until you look decent.") Is your mother's voice ever going to go away?

"Oh, I think I'm going to stick with blacks and browns for the eyeshadow, something smoky," she says, setting a few compacts aside. Balling her hand into a fist she flexes, leaning back a little to look at you. "But you have to look fierce! Preparing for a date is like preparing for battle! This is your WAR face and you need to CONQUER him!"

Her enthusiasm is so literally in your face that you can't help but smile, looking away from her as you flush a little, pleased and a little embarrassed. "I mean, I already sort of have him, so... Um..." A small giggle escapes you. "Sorry. Right. You're right."

"YEAH!" she whoops, making Alphys jump. Thankfully she was just blowing on your nails to dry them. "Of course I am! Which is why you're going to let me take care of this and you can see once I'm done. And not a second before! Now close your eyes."

You look down at the makeup still laying on the bed, including several shades of very vibrant lipstick. A small thrill of rebellion stirs in your chest and you smile, pressing through your apprehension. You close your eyes and let Undyne work her magic.

There's a three-piece suit in that garment bag. A damn three-piece suit. He isn't sure what he was expecting, but Sans hadn't expected Mettaton to go this far. It's laid out on Papyrus's bed as he stands there, looking at it. Gray, black, and two shades of steely blue. Tucked away inside a little bag is a set of cufflinks and a tie pin in the shape of little dark red hearts. He isn't sure if Mettaton is trying to be funny or just a little heavy-handed, but Sans is reluctant to admit that he likes them. But he does.

The black slacks fit just right, even the length. Well, at least the bucket of bolts seems to know his way around clothing. As he slips the dark, steely blue shirt over his shoulders he can't help but wonder what Mettaton has picked out for you. It takes him a second to realize he should have put the shirt on first when he has to undo the button and fly so that he can pull his pants up over it. He grumbles a bit to himself as he does up the long row of buttons down his chest.

Knowing that Papyrus and Frisk are waiting impatiently out in the hall, he picks up the blue, black, gray, and burgundy striped tie and pulls it around his neck. "alright you two, come in," he calls out, holding the ends of the tie in each hand, hesitating.

He knows how to do this. He used to wear ties all the time. He fumbles with the tie for a moment, getting a little frustrated. Has he worn a tie since the accident? Shit, has it been that long?

Papyrus pulls his gloves off and tucks them over his collarbone, plucking Sans's hands away and taking over. "LET ME TAKE CARE OF THAT, BROTHER," he says, adjusting the length and knotting the fabric with deft motions. 

"thanks, pap," Sans mumbles as Papyrus smooths the tie down against his sternum. He flashes his brother a wide grin.

"YOU LOOK VERY HANDSOME ALREADY, SANS! OH, AND THERE'S MORE! QUICK, PUT ON THE VEST AND COAT!" he exclaims, hurrying over to the bed and picking up the remaining articles of clothing.

Chuckling, Sans shrugs into the black waistcoat with his brother's help, tucking the tie underneath as he buttons it up. He makes sure to fetch the tie pin before Frisk flops down on the bed and accidentally loses it. With the little red heart fastened in place, he slips on the gray blazer and tugs on the front of it, stretching his arms experimentally. So far so good. He pats against his sides and fumbles for a second but finds the pockets, sliding his hands inside. There, that's not too bad.

Shrugging, he looks up at Papyrus. His brother has sparkles in his eyes as he covers his mouth with both hands. "SANS YOU LOOK VERY NICE! I'M SO HAPPY TO SEE YOU DRESSED UP INSTEAD OF IN THOSE TRACK SHORTS AND SLIPPERS!"

Speaking of slippers, he looks down at his feet. Wriggling bare toes, he glances over at the bed to see Frisk holding a pair of socks and black, glossy dress shoes. "i dunno, i think i'd rather be wearing some comfy slippers than those," he says, giving the shoes a hesitant look.

"YOU CAN'T GO OUT IN SUCH A NICE SUIT AND THEN YOUR RATTY OLD SLIPPERS, SANS!" Papyrus objects loudly.

"i dunno, i just don't get their appheel," Sans says with a wide grin, giving Frisk a wink as they start giggling.

"I THINK THAT THEY SUIT YOU, BROTHER." Papyrus lets out a triumphant laugh at the pleased look on Sans's face. "NOW, LET ME GO FETCH AN ASSORTMENT OF APPROPRIATE DATING PRODUCTS FOR YOU! OH, AND DID YOU REMEMBER TO GET A GIFT? YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO GIVE GIFTS ON DATES, DON'T FORGET!"

Papyrus is rushing out of the room before Sans can get a word in edgewise. There's no way in hell he's using any of those MTT Brand anythings for his date with you. Mettaton might have an eye for fashion, he'll give him that, but who knows what he puts in that stuff. Knowing that there's no point in delaying the inevitable, Sans puts on the socks and ties his shoes.

With one final brush of his hands down the front of his slacks, he looks up at Frisk and raises a brow, holding out his arms and turning a little from side to side. "well what do you think, kiddo? think your mom'll like it?"

"You look amazing!" Frisk exclaims, smiling from ear to ear and clapping their hands, full of so much enthusiasm that they wiggle a little on the edge of the bed.

Sans flushes a little bit, dropping his hands and shrugging. "ok, ok, i got it. no need to go overboard," he says, feeling a little embarrassed but happy.

 Frisk's smile relaxes a bit, but the kid is still beaming up at him, kicking their feet. "Dad...?"

"c'mon now, don't let pap hear that yet," Sans says gently, walking over to Frisk and giving them a weak punch to the shoulder.

"Have you talked to her? You said you were gonna talk to her!" Frisk says, frowning and puffing their cheeks.

"we're gonna talk, i promise." Sans chuckles. "keep making that face and it's gonna get stuck that way."

Papyrus hurries back into the room with an armful of assorted jars and bottles, and Sans knows he's going to have his work cut out for him in order to escape this unscathed.

Considering she's the only one with years of experience in the matter, Undyne is the one that styles your hair. The treatment they put in it earlier was at Mettaton's suggestion, but Undyne is the one that washes it out and dries your hair after the robot leaves to go attend to something. She still won't let you look in a mirror, even as she's pinning back the smooth, sweet-smelling waves of brown. They're pulled out of your face but fall down your back. You catch sight of a deep red, silk flower before she fixes it along the side of your head. That's your first hint of what else is to come.

Mettaton comes back by the time that Undyne finishes and he fetches a garment bag from Alphys's closet. Draping it over your arms, he ushers everyone out of the room so that you can get dressed. "Don't you dare look in a mirror, we want to see your reaction!" he orders, then hurries out.

Overcome with curiosity, you pull down the zipper to reveal your dress. On the hanger it's all gauzy, rich red chiffon from the high waist down. The top is pale with silver embroidery and matching red glass beads picked out into a vined, floral pattern. You're glad for the thick straps instead of leaving you strapless, but the plunging sweetheart neckline makes your stomach twist unpleasantly. You're supposed to wear this? It's beautiful but... this isn't something you'd ever choose for yourself.

But what would you choose for yourself, really? You never even got to go to prom in high school, you have no idea what kinds of dresses would look good on you. Besides, it's too late to do anything about it now.

You lay the dress out on the bed and notice a brand new set of lacy underwear in the same red color. How does Mettaton know your sizing, and where in the world did he find sexy underwear? You're not sure you want to know the answer to either question, and instead focus on changing. The underwear fits perfectly and so does the dress, though it takes you a moment to awkwardly step into it and hike it up over your shoulders. Fumbling a bit, you zip up the back as much as you can before calling the others back in.

Alphys gasps and Undyne's face breaks out into an enormous grin as she rushes forward to help you with your zipper. Mettaton lets out an exaggerated cry of joy that makes you flush with embarrassment, smoothing out the pleated, gauzy fabric at your waist. He pulls out another bag with a set of black boxes inside. "Just the finishing touches left," he says, grinning and handing the smaller one to you.

You open it and inside is a pair of silver dangle earrings with gray-blue crystals. You hook them into your ears and by the time you're done the robot is holding out a matching pendant. He holds it out for you, and a part of you is grateful that he doesn't offer to help. It saves you the trouble of declining. Clasped at the nape of your neck, the diamond-shaped pendant rests against your chest, right above your cleavage. And it's certainly more cleavage than you're used to showing with that neckline... You fight the urge to cover yourself, ignoring the nagging feeling in the back of your mind.

"Isn't this all a bit much?" you ask Mettaton, fidgeting with the necklace.

"For my hotel? Absolutely not, darling!" he says, sweeping black hair elegantly across his face.

"You look AWESOME!" Undyne says, giving you an enthusiastic flex and a huge smile.

"Y-you really do!" Alphys adds, and you think she looks a little sweaty.

"Alright darling, time for the big reveal! I'm dying to know what you think!" he says, opening up Alphys's closet to access the hidden, full-length mirror inside the door.

Taking a deep breath and expecting the worst, you walk up to Mettaton's side and look at yourelf in the mirror.

You have to remember not to touch your face as you fight the urge to cover your mouth and gasp. The dress is gorgeous. No, not just the dress. You. You've never looked so beautiful in your entire life and you have to take a moment to breathe so you don't cry and ruin the amazing makeup that your friend did for you. You don't even notice the way that Undyne and Alphys grin at each other, or the pleased look on Mettaton's face.

Why didn't you notice before that the dress is the exact shade of red as your Soul? Carefully, like you're afraid you might ruin it somehow, you trace your fingers along the high waist of the dress, enamored with the way it accentuates your curves. The neckline doesn't seem quite as shocking from the front rather than from above. Even your makeup, while it was intimidating when you couldn't see it is breathtaking now that you can. Is this even you? How had they taken the woman you saw in the mirror this morning and transformed you into this?

It's liberating. You feel polished and new and you have to force yourself to look away so that you can turn and smile at your friends. You try to speak, to thank them but for a moment you can't find the words. Alphys and Undyne give you warm, affectionate smiles, and Alphys even lets out an excited squeak before covering her mouth and blushing.

Mettaton takes a few steps back, looking you over and nodding to himself. When he catches you looking at him, me meets your eyes and smiles warmly. "Well darling, what do you think?"

"It's..." Beautiful. Wonderful. Better than you could have hoped for. "Mettaton, it's perfect. Thank you."

The robot claps his hands together in front of his mouth, pressing the sides of his fingers to his lips for a second as he struggles to keep his smile in check. Then, after a moment, he lowers them and says, "You're very welcome. I hope you like the burgundy, it matches your Soul perfectly, I think. Sans doesn't—" Mettaton cuts himself off, sighing. "Sans isn't going to know what hit him."

As if on cue, there's a sharp rap downstairs on the lab's door. Mettaton flashes you a bright smile. "Put your shoes on and come downstairs."

You feel giddy and beautiful, jittery and trembling as you pull on a pair of modest shoes. You thank the robot silently for getting you something almost practical, with thick, low heels. You're already taller than Sans, no need to make the gap in heights any wider, and you don't think you'd be able to walk in anything taller.

Then, with one last glance at Alphys and Undyne —they grin and Undyne gives you a thumbs-up— you head downstairs.

You see Sans before he sees you. He's talking to Mettaton, frowning a little while the robot gestures with his hands. He's wearing a suit and suddenly you don't feel overdressed at all. It's tailored to fit him perfectly, framing the set of his shoulders and painting a smooth, cut line down his body. You're a little warm just looking at him, and you feel the urge to slide your hands under his blazer. Even the familiar way he's got his hands shoved in his pockets is different. It feels confident instead of casual and you want to hook your arm through his and feel the smooth, trim fabric under your hands.

Then, with a gesture from Mettaton, he turns to look at you right as you step off the escalator. His eye sockets go wide and his jaw goes a little slack, dropping almost imperceptibly. The white lights of his eyes brighten as they sweep you from head to toe, and he pulls his hands out of his pockets in a reflexive motion to reach for you. After a moment he finds himself, grinning one of the brightest grins as he crosses the room to meet you. Reaching out to take your hand, he bends over it to press a toothy kiss to your knuckles. You blush, fighting the urge to laugh from the way your happiness is bubbling up inside you.

"you look beautiful," he says, looking up at you with something akin to awe.

"You clean up pretty good yourself, handsome," you say, and you can't help but notice that his shirt is the same color as your jewelry and nail polish. Upon further inspection you spot the little red —burgundy— heart fixed to his striped tie. Your hand finds the pendant resting against your chest. "Hey, look. We go together."

"of course we do. always."

 
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