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

A/N: This is a happier, easier-to-write version of my story about Germany.

After Frank and his creation died they left Earth.

By 'they' I mean Magenta, Riff Raff, and Columbia. The latter was believed dead at first. It was thanks only Magenta's slight attachment to the girl that she wasn't tossed into the incinerator as soon as they'd left. Instead, she'd been set down on her old bed. Still painted with dripping makeup and wearing that soaked corset, she looked sort of like a ruined doll.

It startled Magenta when her roommate suddenly returned from the undiscovered country. First feeling seemed to return to her limbs and the skin seemed more flushed. This return to life resembled a frozen cadaver thawing – which reminded Magenta of those awful films she used to watch while living on Earth.

Though this feeling of (somewhat amused) shock changed to one of annoyance when the Earthling began asking questions.

"What happened? These clothes look like Frankie's and… it hurts, here," she tapped the center her chest. "Why does it hurt?"

"Because."

"Mags! What's going on?"

Suddenly, Magenta smiled dreamily. "We left. Now we're headed for home. In a few hours I'll be able to see my home, those wonderful beaches lit with moonlight… ve vill return to our beloved planet."

"We left Earth?" Columbia whispered, grey eyes widening.

"I don't see vhat the big deal is," she said darkly, rather annoyed. "It's not like you actually like Earth."

"Yeah, I don't. But it's all I ever knew! Now we're going to some planet I've never seen. Ya said everybody looks like Frankie there! Now, I can't handle that. I can only handle one o' him…"

Magenta rolled her eyes, though didn't respond. It was time to change out of her uniform for now and into something more comfortable. So she dug through the pile of laundry (some clean, some dirty) in search of something nice to wear. The Earthling was probably complaining and crying still… but Magenta was too excited about their return home to care.

The five-year mission they'd promised was being cut short two years early. This was the most wonderful thing imaginable, she thought.

Soon enough she found a lovely dress. It was bought from a used clothes shop, with the help of Columbia, and made of a lovely dark-grey fabric. It looked quite conservative for some reason. Military, even. The skirt was knee-length and the bodice fitted. Columbia believed it to be from the 1940s.

After changing into that, she stopped ignoring Columbia. It was then that the girl asked a question:

"What would you do if you couldn't go home, hmm?"

This almost made Magenta laugh. "How should I know? That won't ever happen."

For the next few minutes Columbia refused to speak to her friend. Not that Magenta cared – or even noticed.

After a while, Columbia went and changed into (relatively) normal clothes and scrubbed all the makeup off her face. The two sat there in their room for a while, lost in thought…

"I wish I could go home," Columbia said, finally.

For a moment Magenta pitied the girl. The idea of never returning to one's home was truly terrible, Magenta realized. Though she said none of that aloud. Instead she lounged on her bed and read a magazine.

This peace lasted until a sudden crashing sound was heard. The lights flickered. Somebody – probably Columbia – screamed. Then, both girls blacked out.

Some time later they awoke.

Judging by the smell of spoke, something bad had happened. Though the lights were out, at least they were still in the castle. After a moment Magenta found a match and struck it so they could see.

They room looked shaken up as if an earthquake had hit. Mirrors were smashed and furniture turned over. Magenta was furious.

Still rather stunned, both girls left the room by the light of the match. Eventually another match needed to be lit. Then they ra in t

"My clever brother," Magenta said, somewhat flirtatiously.

"This isn't time for games sister," Riff Raff replied. "Whatever happened destroyed most of the control room."

"The ship isn't working... ve aren't going home now, are ve?"

He sighed, wearily. "We're stuck here for now."

Nobody spoke for a while. Then, Magenta burst into tears. That was something Columbia hadn't ever seen before. To her Magenta was the one who could handle anything. If disaster struck she'd keep calm. It seemed that she'd be the one who could keep her cool in any situation.

If they were in Pompeii when that calm mountain was looking less and less calm, Magenta would be the one sensibly pointing out that they'd better leave. She'd be the only one not panicking if other aliens invaded.

But know she was leaning against her brother (who'd thankfully set the candelabra down) and sobbing. This scared Columbia.

Unable to stand it any longer, Columbia took one of the candelabra's candles and wandered down the hall. She needed fresh air. So, she headed towards the front door. Though a few hallways were now blocked by debris she eventually made it to the foyer. Nearly all the little trinkets there had been smashed. This saddened Columbia.

Then she opened the door.

To her surprise they seemed to be in a field of some kind. In the distance she saw what was probably civilization. That is, houses. Then she noticed the cobblestone road the castle had all but landed on.

And then the voices.

Somewhere outside the castle two men were having a very odd conversation.

"What do you think that is, Lu?

"Well, maybe it's a sign from the Gods. Though the bloke who read the auspices would've mentioned this, surely. Or when wossisname read the entrails of that dog. So… I haven't any idea what it is. Anyway, it's very ugly and gods are more regal about this sorta thing – or so I've heard."

"I dunno. I'm just a legionary, as Marcus likes telling me, him being a high-up centurion and all…"

"If you keep complaining about him it'll make him think you're too cowardly to be a legionary. You're 17 years old, young Gaius!"

"I know, Mister Lucius."

Their accents were somewhat British. They didn't sound very threatening.

Though the indeed looked threatening, Columbia soon realized. They happened to be a pimple-faced teenaged boy and a grizzled man of about thirty. Though this wasn't the frightening part. They'd both be rather harmless if it weren't for the heavy metal helmets, some sort of chainmail shirt, and very threatening swords on their belts.

"Who the hell are you?" asked the younger one.

"Be nice, Gaius," said the older one.

Columbia giggled nervously. "My name is Columbia. Who are you?"

"I'm Lucius, this boy's Gaius. We're with the 9th Hispana Legion. Like any good Legion would, we really bounced back after that British girl beat the shit out of us."

After a moment of staring at them in silence, Columbia realized they were serious. This wasn't a joke. Though she'd never, she had seen the movie Spartacus. These were Roman Legionaries!

A/N: I know Spartacus was a very inaccurate movie. Columbia doesn't.

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