Sooner or Later You're Gonna be Mine

Chapter 27: Bar Talk

In the well-kept office of the small but extremely popular, and at the moment ,very crowded human bar, Sans felt his annoyance, impatience, and exhaustion spike. The human owner, a very tall, middle-aged and extremely heavy man named Noah, looked at the thick wad of cash Sans had just placed on his desk, but instead of swiping it up and agreeing to Sans' request like the skeleton thought he would instantly do, he tore his eyes away from the wad and turned back to Sans with a raised eyebrow.

What the fuck's that stare fer? Just say yes and take the goddamn money so I can go home already, Sans felt like snarling at the human, but managed to keep his temper in check and his mouth closed. Losing his temper and threatening violence, though helpful in most situations Sans had found himself in throughout his younger life, wasn't gonna fly at the moment. 

However, being completely exhausted and nearly drained of his magic wasn't exactly adding anything positive to the situation. After leaving Tops, the blue bunny's advice still ringing in his skull, with his harsh Nice Cream scoop injury still throbbing painfully at the top of his head, Sans spent the rest of his day and most of his evening teleporting to all the bars his little lady frequently sang at, trying to figure out when her next performance was scheduled.

It had taken a while, though. When Sans had first seen her by chance on stage, after that cold rainy night all those years ago, he spent a good amount of his time, when he wasn't casing Surface City out and building ties between Wings and Don Dee, learning all he could about his little lady. The very first thing he learned was that she lived in a real shithole.  It made the tiny little shack Sans had shared with his brothers and their mother look like a fucking castle or something. 

The second thing he dedicated himself to learning about her were all her places of employment, which did require time,  an incredible amount of patience and a lot of his magic.  During his first few months in Surface City, he had spent many of his nights, bar hopping from one bar to the next, using excessive amount of his magic, hoping he'd get a glimpse of her onstage. 

Of course, whenever she did appear on stage, all the magic and effort and sweat was worth it.  Seeing her on that stage and hearing her voice and seeing her smile was worth everything.  She was like a dream.  Sure, he had to resist the very real urge to rip all her audience members to shreds when they either hollered some pretty vulgar things at her or were clearly undressing her with their eyes, but Sans got what he wanted.  The skeleton learned his little lady was known to sing at eleven bars.  Eleven fuckin' dangerous, seedy, dirty disgustin' bars throughout Surface City. 

There was no doubt in his mind that when he fixed his latest mistake with her and got things rolling between them again and had her rolling in between his sheets, he was gonna see if he couldn't get her some better gigs in more high-class places. It wouldn't be too hard. One thing he learned about humans was that money talked.  It always did... except now, that is.  When Sans had first paid this human off to fire his lady, the fellow had had no problem instantly agreeing to it, even though there had been a sort of curious frown on his pudgy face that had somewhat annoyed Sans at the time. 

But now ...the bastard wasn't even reaching for the wad and Sans had just about hit his limit for the day. 

It was seven o'clock in the evening, and the skeleton had already visited eight bars before he'd gotten to this one.  

After paying the muscular prick at the door who was slowly letting people in and smoothly requesting to see the owner, Noah came out and, pausing briefly when he saw who it was, greeted the skeleton in an embarrassingly explosive and cheerful manner. He did it right in front of all the people who were still waiting to be let in, (a bar owner has to put his customers at ease, Sans supposed) and immediately ushered the skeleton into his bar and right past all of his patrons. Half of them seemed horrified, while the other half were shooting Sans looks of disbelief and amazement, but because the human's arm was hooked over his shoulder, nobody said a thing, which was more than okay with the skeleton. The crowds even parted when the two large males cut across the dance floor towards the bar.