Disclaimer: I don't own The Rocky Horror Picture Show

A/N: There is a reason that nobody in the story really questions the fact that a person showed up out of nowhere. You'll why see in later chapters. The narrator is telling this story to someone (you'll see who later), which is why the style is a bit odd. And all the sci-fi references are to show that she's living in her own world that the other characters don't really get.

Also, the 'nerdy comic-book subculture' nonsense is really exaggerated in this. In this it's a combination of the unrealistic 'trekkie' stereotype and some real things. And it's really just the narrator's only connection to her old life and a way of making her seem even more out of place. So it's fine if the nerdy stuff she says makes no sense to you, it's sort of supposed to.

Prologue:

It was soon after my junior year of high school that this tale begins. Believe it or not, the year was 2015. Then that didn't seem so far into the future because it was then... I think. That's beside the point, though. Specific years and stuff don't matter.

I was a loner. You know, that really pathetic kid who hardly ever left his or her own house out of some illogical fear. My so-called excuse was that my younger brother was the cleverest guy in the world according to everyone. This was true. While I read Star Wars Expandec Universe novels in my bedroom actual scientists were praising him for all the wonderous things he'd apperntly done. I was sort of forgotten.

So, I spent my time avoiding people. I even stopped visiting the comic store, because I just didn't care anymore. I hid in my room and didn't eat much. There I read, wishing with all my heart that something cool would happen. I wanted to be abducted by aliens or recruited for an adventure by a mysterious wizard! Then I could be the cool one, the person praised by all.

When school was out it got worse. The only thing that I did involving other people was go see this movie called The Rocky Horror Picture Show. By Asimov, I loved it. Why did I love it, you ask? I'm sorry to say it's the sort of thing one can't really explain. That feeling of just being there with all the people who knew the same jokes as you, actually smiling… it was perfection.

Then it would end.

You'd get in the car, go home, and go back to the numbness. Back to the emptiness. Back to loneliness.

That's the trouble with Rocky Horror - I wanted it to never end! That feeling that things were okay, that happiness. I wanted it to never end!

I wished for that, just as I wished that I could go on an adventure. I've always been the sort of person who can't stand to be alone for too long - and the sort who felt out of place. I wished that I could be in that film, exist in it's world. Surely that would be close enough to being among fellow fans all the time.

One day I got what I'd wished for…

Day 1:

It was just like in a story. I fell asleep one night and awoke the next day in a room that wasn't mine. No, definitely not mine.

The ceiling was weird. Not the right color at all. You see, my bedroom's ceiling was this sort of off-white color. That place's ceiling was a bit too gothic to belong in my room. Then I noticed the posters and all the random… things. Funny lamps and mirrors… and a giant poster of Eddie glued to the wall.

Oh. So that's where I was.

"Vhat are you?" asked a terribly familiar voice. "And what are you doing in Columbia's bed?

There, next to the bed, stood Magenta (a domestic).

Being the fangirl I was, I didn't act the way I should've. Instead of explaining what was going on – not that there was much I could say – I just sort of stared at her in a way I really shouldn't. It was definitely her. And she wore that outfit from the dinner scene. That is, she wore black underwear, a matching bra, and some sort of see-throughish dressing gown thing. I don't know what to call it… but it was a bit awkward.

"Vhy are you here?" she asked, now quite angry.

"I'm not sure," I managed to say.

I knew better than to say anything else. It was far too likely that I might say something I didn't mean to... but sort of meant to.

Alas, I was a bit too busy appreciating her skimpy outfit to think straight. I'd always been very logical – like Spock. Always able to think of witty things to say, too. Before that very odd day I'd never been near an attractive fictional character wearing basically just their underwear. I'd never been near anyone wearing basically just their underwear.

I hadn't ever expected to be that close to her, since one never really meets fictional characters. I also hadn't realized how thin – in a nice way, of course – she was until I was near her. A character in a movie is more attractive when they aren't in the movie, I realized.

When they're suddenly a living/breathing person, a fictional person is so much… realer. They aren't fictional! You can ever reach out and touch them! Ugh, how repetitive I sound! Yet it's true.

I didn't move any closer to her (though I wanted to) because I knew how weird that would be. Even though it was a character from Rocky Horror – a musical about sexual liberation and hedonist aliens – I happened to be talking to, the very detailed things I was thinking at the time were things a person shouldn't think of upon initial introduction to another person.

Understandably, she was a bit disturbed by my behavior (though it was hardly anything more than me staring). I happen to look somewhat younger than I am, which only made me seem weirder. Creepier.

"Stop staring at me. I'll send my brozer after you, and I know you wouldn't like zat," she said to me, stepping backwards slightly.

"Sorry," I muttered, looking away.

"You never ansvered my question. Why are you in her bed?"

"I don't know why. Last night I fell asleep in my own room and this morning I just woke up here. I should probably introduce myself, though… I'm Trixie."

Okay, my name wasn't actually Trixie. Some people at the comic shop I used to frequent called me that – mainly because a fictional female rapist has the same name as me. And my fellow nerds all knew of that character of course. Though my parents somehow didn't…

Yeah, Trixie was a much less disturbing name. And Magenta believed me.

"And my name is Magenta," she replied. "This is my room, by ze vay. Zough I do share it with Columbia."

"Good to meet you, Magenta," I replied. "Where's Columbia, by the way? I'm in her bed – or so you said – and she isn't."

Magenta laughed darkly. "She's busy. In ze Master's room, doing vhat she usually does vith him. Though, since it is morning, she's probably asleep. I wonder vhen you got here, zen…"

"Weren't you in here earlier?"

"No, I just returned to zis room a moment ago. I vas in my brozer's room. Before you ask, we're very close for siblings. Very, very close. Sleeping togezer close."

Looking back, I'm pretty sure she was trying to test me somehow. Probably to see if that sort of thing scared or disgusted me. It didn't, because I was used to discussing fan theories about various Star Wars characters that incest was one of those odd things that happened to other people (like sex or spaceship battles or computer programming).

Since I never got around to verbally replying to what she'd said, Magenta began to speak again. Judging by the smirk upon her face she thought she'd scared me into silence. Now I was beginning to see her as rather frightening. In a nice way.

"Anyvay, Trixie. You don't seem to be a threat in any way and I don't feel like talking to Columbia today, so vill you entertain her? I'm sure the two of you will get along quite vell."

I knew she was up to something. The only trouble was that I didn't know what. But I decided it was easier to just go along with it.

At that point I still wore my pajamas and a dreadfully ugly bathrobe. So Magenta decided to help me find some of her clothes to wear. Soon she realized that none of her clothes were awful enough for me, so I needed to borrow some clothes from Columbia. The clothes in question were a t-shirt, skirt, and stockings.

Magenta also wanted to get rid of my bathrobe. I didn't, since it made me think of Arthur Dent from the Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy series. He was an ordinary person from England who goes on an adventure through time and space… while wearing a certain bathrobe nearly the entire time. So, in my mind, my bathrobe was a symbol of me being a normal earthling on a weird adventure. Even if I didn't actually wear it…

"Vhy keep it?" she asked. "Even you must realize how ugly it is."

"I don't care if it's ugly," I replied.

She sighed dramatically. "Fine. Get dressed, now."

For a moment I waited for her to leave the room so I could get dressed. She didn't, of course.

"Well, aren't you going to leave?" I asked.

"No."

By then I knew Magenta really didn't like me. And I was starting to not like her either, what with her being mean to me like that. Though I guess it might not be mean in her culture. Not to mention I did just sort of randomly show up in her room for no sensible reason.

Maybe she still didn't trust me and didn't want to let me out of her sight…?

Whatever it was, I was getting a bit annoyed at myself for wanting to end up in the world The Rocky Horror Picture Show takes place in. All those years of wishing I was in the galaxy from Star Wars and now I ended up in Rocky Horror after being a fan for hardly any time? It made no sense to me.

I changed out of my pajamas and into this new outfit as quickly as possible. It was awkward. Once I was dressed I was still annoyed. The outfit didn't fit me. Columbia is quite a bit taller than me. And somewhat thinner.

"I've got to go prepare ze Master's breakfast. You can come wiz me, or-"

It was then that Columbia entered the room. From her short pink hair to tap-shoes – she looked just like in The Rocky Horror Picture Show! Of course, she wore a different outfit. Though it was no less colorful or glittery than what she wore in the film.

"Hello!" she said cheerfully.

Her voice was a bit high-pitched, though not as much as in the movie.

"Columbia, vill you make sure this doesn't get into any trouble? Will you look after her?" Magenta said, gesturing at me.

"You want me to 'look after her'?" Columbia asked. "What does that mean?"

"Keep her out of my vay."

Before she could be asked any more questions, Magenta left the room. Columbia's cheerful expression had faded into something more worrisome.

"You aren't another alien, are you?" she asked nervously.

I sighed. "No, 100% earthling. But I'm from the future. Sort of. This might be an alternate universe or something, so maybe I'm not... anyway, I sort of wished to be in the world of my favorite movie and now I'm here."

"Your favorite movie is in this world?" Columbia asked. "That sounds like it doesn't make sense."

It amused me that she said that. I thought she would've questioned the 'randomly appearing out of nowhere' aspect.

"This castle is where my favorite movie takes place. You and Magenta are characters in it. In fact, you're my favorite characters," I explained, smiling.

This seemed to confuse Columbia. "How can we both be your favorite?"

"Well, you're the most sympathetic character and she's the… really hot redhead," I said, blushing as I said the last part.

"I'm the most sympathetic, eh? That means I'm really nice, doesn't it?"
I smiled at her. "Indeed it does. You're the only one who isn't painfully stupid or a heartless bastard. And the tap dancing is cool."

"You think so?" she replied.

"Yes."

"Cool!"

Columbia and I got along quite well, it seemed. We spent much of the day chatting about all sorts of things. It took quite a bit of effort to avoid talking about Star Wars or something like that, since she found it boring.

The good thing about Columbia, I decided, was how simple she was to understand. If something you spoke to her about seemed boring her attention would wander. And when she wasn't bored of you she'd smile really cheerfully. This new sort of conversation, in which I couldn't reference sci-fi stuff, was easy enough to get the hang of when I talked to Columbia. Though I did plan to explain the plot of Star Wars to her, even though it wouldn't exist until 1977 (three years from then).

At that point in time I saw her as something of a ditz. Though she was nice, at least… unlike other people in the castle.

It somehow hadn't occurred to me at first that the villainous alien named Frank N. Furter would show up in my room on the first night I stayed at the castle.

Being the idiot I was, I also didn't realize that knowing how the 'seduction scene' went in the movie would help. My fear of being near people had always made the sensation of even a platonic hug feel very intimate. So when a certain alien made his way into my bed I froze. His hands – Galaxy, they were so nice feeling.

I'd never understood why. I'd grown up amongst people who Trek actor William Shatner told to "get a life". I was one of them. It was as that evil alien transvestite slowly unbuttoned my pajama top that I began to question it all.

Being a really stereotypical nerd is like being a nun or something. You're just so busy memorizing trivia or inventing weird fan theories or arguing about which to think about something as silly as dating. Especially if it involves sex, because that's an illogical behavior in nearly all situations.

Yeah, you can watch Star Trek: Voyager and say Jeri Ryan's character Seven of Nine is hot or fawn over Harrison Ford's portrayal of Han Solo. But that's really because you're supposed to. Nobody really thinks Seven is that hot, she's just the designated 'attractive character'. And the only point of Voyager, since Janeway is the most annoying captain in the history of Trek.

But that's beside the point. The point is that a – who was fictional to me not a day before – was at that point in time removing my clothing. And, to my annoyance, I was enjoying it.

"Mmm, aren't you lovely?" he whispered into my ear.

It was strange, you know. My mind didn't approve and was sort of being overridden by everything else. I felt like a robot malfunctioning. I felt like Robby from Forbidden Planet when he was ordered to kill someone (that's against his programming and it made him short-circuit).

The most dominant emotion at that point was fear. Ugh… I'm not sure why I was terrified. Maybe because it felt much more extreme that it was supposed to? Maybe because my body wanted something my brain saw as highly illogical?

I admit, that's one reason I avoided other kids. That's something that's always worried me. It also adds to my 'I'm probably a lesbian, oh the horror' angst. I'd always seen my friends (all of which were guys) as brothers. Slowly I'd begun to fear that there was a sinister reason for it. Though we'd known each other all our lives, and that meant I might've accidentally seen them as literal brothers.

Back to the story.

Everything seemed wrong. I wasn't sure if it was the shock of this extreme pain and even extremer lust that scared me or the fact that an alien from a different galaxy was doing those lovely things… that scared me more.

I was sickened by it, crying out.

"Shush, darling. Don't be – oh – scared. You aren't dying literally, though 'death' is a bit of a slang term for this…" he whispered in my ear. "…sensation. It's no crime…"

I was breathing oddly, which scared me. To fast, sort of irregular, heart beating madly and I felt too warm. It all scared me so very much, yet felt so wonderful at the same time. And his hands… his too-soft hands, his lips…

Somehow I remember it so vividly. As if his hands still linger just there or his tongue is still licking at my lips.

After it was done I began to cry slightly. Shaking with sobs instead of… whatever that scary-thing that just happened was. He licked the tears off my face for some reason. I think he thought this reaction of mine was cute or something. Though I really do think it was only for his enjoyment and not mine.

Even as I was still sobbing he left the room. Some time later – probably seconds, though it felt like years – I felt somebody's arm around me.

It was Columbia.

"Shh, it's okay. First time is always scary, I know. Though I know that my first time was worse since the guy was less nice about it than Frankie ever is. How old are you, again?"

"I'm 17."

Strangely, Columbia giggled. "17! That's not illegal here, which is good. The first guy who did me was about 20 – that's disgustedly older than me – when I was fifteen. Looking back, that was sick."

"Frank is a still a monster," I whispered.

"Ya think so? I've heard of people who don't like him, but Magenta's said that sort of thing's pretty rare. So I'd never met anyone…"

"Well, maybe it's because I'm not from around here or something. And it's not like he's very attractive, all that a makeup is a bit creepy. And… I'd never even kissed somebody! Columbia… why?" By then I was getting a bit hysterical.

"Shh, it's okay. Just sleep now. I'll be right here with you, I won't leave."

She wrapped her arms around me. That was comfortable and it made me feel so much safer for some reason. It felt right.

Anyway, I soon fell asleep.

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