[She does not hesitate in taking a huge bite out of her half of this cookie, speaking her agreement with her mouth full.] Good idea!

[A beat. She chews, swallows, and then continues--though Sans isn't the most expressive anyway, she does him the courtesy of pretending to space out so he doesn't have to meet her eyes. Her tone is neutral, not too carefree but not too serious.] I know you probably didn't want anyone to see that stuff, so I'm not gonna ask about it. But I'm pretty good at writing poems and skeleton jokes so you should always tell me if you want one of those, okay?

[She can't make him talk about that gnarled knot of memories, nor would she want to when she doesn't even know if it would help. The invitation is implicit, of course. But mostly she's just doing what she does best: offering a bottle of happy thoughts for the rainy days.]