She is not putting it away. She's not fooled by the anxiety going suddenly to calm, and with a blaster pointed at her . . . no. She's not listening, and she's not going to obey an order from someone who has no right or proper mind to command. There's insanity going on in this room, and there's threat, and she's not going to ignore either. She twists to follow Sans' moment, yanking away from the table.

"3, get out."

The water strands plunge towards Sans, braiding to chains as they go, aiming to snap the skeleton by throat and by wrists to the wall.