Darkness Has Conquered Brad and Janet…
The bright flash made them duck and cover their eyes. The whirring sound became increasing louder, until it was gone. Silence. The sun was already up, for it was about 8.00am. After the castle had blasted off, everything seemed strangely different. With any and all of their possessions in the castle, they were left with the clothing upon them.
Brad took Janet's hand, and pulled her close. She looked at him with tears in her eyes. She pulled away from him, and went to the limp bodies of Frank-N-Futer and Rocky. After a few moments, she got Frank by himself and placed a delicate hand on his chest, feeling for a heartbeat. When she found none, she looked mournfully up at Brad.
"He never went home."
She lifted his head up, and removed the pearls from his neck. Moving back over to Rocky, she took his wet feather boa. Gently holding the two objects, she stood and walked over to Columbia's body.
She brushed Columbia's hair with her fingers and looked at the smeared makeup. Placing the pearls and boa on the ground, she took off one of her pumps and added it to the pile.
Standing up once more, she scanned the now empty expanse. Spotting something, she ran to it. Unaware of what she was doing, Brad ran after her, gathering her collection on the way.
Janet stopped abruptly, and picked up something off the ground. She ran quickly back to Brad and placed it on the pile - it was the little white maid's cap that Magenta wore.
He looked at the items. Why did she want them? Out of the corner of his eye, he saw something. Looking partially up at Janet, he stared.
She quizzically looked at him and tried to figure out what he was staring at.
Then she looked down.
Adjusting her corset by pulling up, she gave an indignant "humpf" and started walking towards the road.
"Janet..." he went after her. She kept walking, no reponse. "Dammit, Janet!" He turned his head away from her and kept walking.
Brad, starting to feel slightly uncomfortable wearing frilly underwear and a bustier in broad daylight, as well as the fact that he was soaking wet and he had now smeared makeup caked all over his face.
When they finally got back to the car, surprised it was still there, Janet took the stuff and got in. Brad started the car, which worked. Raising a questioning eyebrow, he noted there was something definitely different about the car.
Turning to Janet, he saw her reading a note. She looked at him with a happy expression, and handed him the note, which read:
"We are sorry that Frank had sabotaged your car and for any inconveniences he might have caused. The car has been fixed. - Riff-Raff and Magenta"
Happily smiling, he maneuvered the car around, and started driving back home to Denton.
¤¤¤
After a long period of silence, Brad spoke.
"Why did you let Frank as well as his monster make love you to, yet I, your fiancé, can't even see your breasts without you getting all huffy?"
"Don't call him a monster!" Came part of the aggravated reply. "And I thought Frank was you. And Brad darling," her voice dripping with sarcasm, "you thought Frank was me so you shouldn't be complaining."
Another awkward pause as Brad realised they were almost in town.
"Janet, you do realise we're going into town… dressed like this? Looking like this?"
She turned to face him. "Haven't you learned anything? Frank was practically flaunting the fact that he was a transvestite! He thought he was beautiful and he loved himself! Riff and Magenta were brother and sister, and they were in love! Did they care what any one else thought? No! Give yourself over to absolute pleasure, Brad!"
Absolute Pleasure. All the memories came flooding back. It might have only happened a few hours ago, but it just kept coming back.
¤¤¤
Buildings came into view; they were rapidly approaching Denton. Brad looked at his fiancée, who was holding her collection of prized items and staring at the passing scenes.
Without warning he stopped the car.
Just slammed his foot on the break, right on the edge of town.
People stared at the strange couple, and the way they were dressed. Janet rolled her eyes, thinking he was going to take a back road home.
He didn't.
He re-tied the corset. Fixed his garters. Pulled up the fishnets, and re-buckled his heels.
Janet smiled and laughed, what a joy to know the message had changed him! She fixed her outfit up as well, and then Brad drove proudly through Denton, singing "Sweet Transvestite" as loud as he could.
¤¤¤
"Oh darling, that was simply amazing! Did you see that old couple stare!" Janet burst into Brad's house along with him in a fit of laughter. Collapsing on the couch, Brad laughed along as well, forgetting about his makeup.
Janet took her boa and started prancing around the living room, much like they did at the floorshow. Brad sighed with a smile, and clapped.
She started to sing in more her range… "Give yourself over to absolute pleasure… swim the warm waters of sins of the flesh…" Janet ran her hands up her body as Brad shifted uncomfortably, being reminded he was in woman's underwear.
"Erotic nightmares beyond any measure…" she undid the lacing on the corset and promptly threw it across the room. Brad blinked in awe, not sure if he should go to her, or she'd go to him. "And sensual daydreams to treasure forever…" She slid the underwear off smoothly, and threw that across the room, as well.
She bounded over to Brad, and threw herself on top of him, kissing him passionately. Running his hands down her bare back, the two became one for the first time without guilt.
¤¤¤
The night was long and restless. After moving upstairs, Brad had fallen asleep after quite a long night. Janet, still troubled, snuck out of bed and downstairs to the kitchen. Gathering the four objects, she placed them on the table and just stared.
A white maid's cap, a high heel, a string of pearls and a half dry red feather boa. Who knew that four simple items could mean so much? She wrapped Brad's robe around her tighter as the air became increasingly colder.
The sun was beginning to rise, and she looked at the clock. 5.14. The eerie silence became increasingly heavier as the room became colder.
She got up and closed all the windows, or at least checked them - to find that they were all closed. Glancing around for anything suspicious, she headed back upstairs to Brad… when something stopped her.
Whipping around on the 3rd step, she looked frantically around the room. No one. Something bothered her, not all was right. Then she remembered her dream…
The dream where none of them were dead. Where Frank and his creation lived on. The thoughts raced back into her mind…
¤~¤~¤
The night air blew unforgiving cold over the barren land and the bodies lay lifeless. Then his leg twitched. His eyes opened. Sitting up, he looked around, only to find Columbia a few feet away and Rocky next to him.
"Oh, Rocky!" He rushed over to him, was he alive as well? He kissed him gently, in hopes he was, and then sat with him. Shivering, he lay next to Rocky, and cuddled next to him. He nearly drifted off when he felt movement next to him, and then a hand on his waist.
Excitedly getting up, he found Rocky stirring, as if from sleeping. Kissing him once more, Frank helped him up, much to Rocky's confusion.
Taking Rocky's hand, he started walking to wherever his mood took him.
And this time it was Denton.
¤~¤~¤
Snapping herself out of it, Janet continued up the stairs. "No, they're dead. They died. They were killed with a laser. We saw them die. They're dead and never coming back," she thought, calming herself.
But something wasn't right. Something was getting to her, and she didn't know what. In the distant upstairs, she heard Brad moving about, secretly praying he would wake up. After a few moments of sheets rustling, all was silent.
As much as she had learned, about life and herself, her old fears were still coming back. An unnamable dread washed over her body as she wrapped the robe tighter around her body.
"He's mine…" a vaguely familiar voice whispered into her ear.
That was it. She screamed, and grabbed onto the banister. Turning around, no one was there. The door was shut, the windows locked. Her jagged breaths turned to coughs, and eventually sobs.
"Janet, what happened?" Brad ran down the stairs clad in blue stripped boxers to find his future wife in a miserable wreck on the steps. "Janet…?" He placed a comforting hand on her shoulder - she was shaking.
"Oh Brad their back they never left they never died he's coming back they're going to get us he's going home to our home forever I'm his or was it you're his but he was just here and…" she turned and faced him, tears running down her face, and the incoherent babbling continued. "They're never going to die never ever because they can't and I swear he was just with me and I know they're never going to leave alone no they're not ever going to let go…"
Brad took her in his arms, and hugged her tightly, shielding her from her fears. She went silent after a while, but she was still shaking.
He led her carefully up the stairs and to the bathroom, where he wiped her tears away. He could only imagine what was running through her head, what sparked her crazed imagination.
Brad made her sit in a chair until she was fully calm. Her breathing returned to normal not long after, and she stopped fumbling with her hands. "Now, Janet, what happened?"
She stared gazing off into somewhere, "He's back…"
"Whose back? Janet?" Brad placed a hand on hers, and tried to get her attention once more.
"I know he is… he told me… he's mine?" She became more distant with every word, memories dancing in her eyes. She twirled some of her hair in her fingers nervously, lost in thought. "Oh Brad just make it all go away…" Janet broke down in sobs again, and Brad held her close once more.
"Janet, shh, it's okay. Whoever 'he' is, he's gone. And never coming back. Dead and gone."
¤¤¤
After barely 2 months of therapy for the both of them, Janet seemed to cool down. The whole affair was never spoken of, unless they mentioned Janet's collection. And the only time that was discussed was when they were talking about where to put them.
Then she started gaining weight.
Extremely confused and concerned, she went to see her doctor one afternoon while Brad was not at home.
When she got there, she told the receptionist what was going on and how she had not time to make an appointment. Trying not to stare, she knew that face. That voice. Even that lipstick shade. Dismissing it as just a coincidence, she sat down and picked up a magazine to occupy herself with.
"Ms. Weiss?" She stood up, and beckoned her over.
"Y-yes?" Life had been greatly altered for Janet after her 'experience'. Greatly. Pulling up her tube top, she walked over, thoughts racing through her head. Every so often, she'd return to the moment when she walked into the foyer… the music that started… the dancing…
"Your doctor is not in today, but Dr. Ro-… Robert will take of you today," she said with a very cheesy smile. Almost choking at the name Robert, she nodded nervously.
She looked familiar. Too familiar.
"This way." She grabbed a clipboard and led her to one of the rooms.
"Janet, whoa calm down. A lot of people say 'this way'. It's a normal human phrase." She ended up in the room she was usually in.
"The Doctor will be with you in a moment.
¤¤¤
Returning to an empty house, he looked around. "Janet?"
Laying on the table: Went to doctor. xoxo, Janet
Shrugging it off, he went to the living room, turned on the TV and made himself comfortable.
¤¤¤
Janet sat uncomfortably on the doctor's table, glancing at everything in the room. Just some posters about ear infections, drawings from children, nothing out of the ordinary.
Then the door opened. She looked at who walked in, already not excepting her regular doctor.
And screamed.
"AHHHhhh!!! OHMIGOD WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?!" Her eyes opened with terror as a blonde doctor walked in with green scrubs. Curling up on the table, she kept her eyes on him. "Riff killed you. You're dead. WHY ARE YOU HERE?!" she wailed, rather loudly.
Quickly shutting the door, he turned to her. "Ma'am, what are you talking about? Your regular doctor is out today, and I'm working his shift. I'm new here, as well," he eyed the woman on the table. "I do believe you've mistaken me for someone else…" He placed the folder down and sat, reviewing her records.
Now gone completely mad, she jumped off the table. And started singing. "Toucha-toucha-toucha touch me! I wanna be diiirty! Thrill me, chill me, fulfil me, creature of the night!"
"Ms. Weiss, sit down," jumping back at her display, he backed to the wall.
"Sound familiar, eh ROCKY!? Don't think I haven't forgotten. YOU AND YOUR SWEET TRANSVESTITE!"
"Rocky? Sweet… Transvestite? I'm Doctor Robert Fitzgerald," came the dignified reply.
She studied his face closely. Janet walked up to him, and stared into his eyes. Looking, prying. She didn't see what she excepted - no torturous looks. No revenge. Just the look of a half scared doctor who was trying to treat a patient.
"It isn't you… he is dead…gone…" her voice trailed off, as she stared into space. Realising what she had just done, "Oh, I'm so sorry! Something happened to me, about 2 months ago, and you looked terribly like someone who was involved. I'm terribly sorry…" She smiled, a bit embarrassed, and walked back to the table. She took a few deep breaths, and then was totally calm.
"Do you, want to talk about it?" He sat down again, looking completely serious.
"No," her face turned cold. "Absolutely not." It was bad enough she had to live it, she didn't quite feel like remembering the whole damn thing.
After asking a few questions about what she had been experiencing, it all came to the doctor quite simply. "Well, you're not sick at all! Perfectly normal!"
"But I've been…"
"For a pregnant woman!"
Grasping onto the table, she thought she was going to faint. Or die. Whichever came first. Pregnant. And she damn well knew it wasn't by Brad.
Or was it?
No. It couldn't be.
Then it hit her. Everything hit her at once.
¤~¤~¤
"You tricked.. I wouldn't have… I've never… never…" she said, pulling the sheets up around her.
"Yes, yes I know, but it isn't all bad, is it? I think you really found it quite pleasurable," and he reached over once more.
"Oh… stop… I mean, help… Brad! Brad! Oh Brad!" she cried, wanting it not to be true. Oh, but she did! She wanted to taste his lips again… his sweet lips… NO!
"Shhh!" He covered her mouth, "Brad's probably asleep now. Do you want him to see you like this?"
"Like how?" she replied questioningly.
"Like THIS," He grabbed her shoulder and got her on her knees and was behind her, doggy style.
She struggled out of that and curled back under the sheets. "Oh, it's your fault… you're to blame… Oh, I was saving myself…" she frowned.
"Yes, but I'm sure you're not SPENT YET!" he screamed into her face.
After a few moments of thinking, "Promise you won't tell Brad?"
¤~¤~¤
But something wasn't right. Something was getting to her, and she didn't know what. In the distant upstairs, she heard Brad moving about, secretly praying he would wake up. After a few moments of sheets rustling, all was silent.
As much as she had learned, about life and herself, her old fears were still coming back. An unnamable dread washed over her body as she wrapped the robe tighter around her body.
"He's mine…" a vaguely familiar voice whispered into her ear.
That was it. She screamed, and grabbed onto the banister. Turning around, no one was there. The door was shut, the windows locked. Her jagged breaths turned to coughs, and eventually sobs.
¤~¤~¤
Grabbing onto the table, all was too much to handle for her. She placed her hand on her stomach and looked down. "I'm carrying his child…" She looked at her stomach, and thought in horror that she would bear his child.
As much as he had changed her life, she had no interest in a baby with him.
She gasped for air, as the room started to spin.
"Frank…" and then she fell over into darkness.
¤¤¤
"Janet? Can you hear me? Janet?" she felt a gentle shaking by her side, and cautiously opened her eyes. Where was she? Was her new life just a dream? No, please, no…
When Janet's vision came back into view, she saw Brad leaning over her, and immediately felt better.
"Brad…!" She faintly smiled and shifted her body to sit up. He smiled, and took a deep breath, relieved that she was okay.
Then, like the time it happened, her blissful peace went away, and the previous events returned to her mind.
"Oh, Brad…" tears once again welled up in her eyes.
"Shhh, honey, it's okay, the doctor told me," he smiled at her. He was excited. Unfortunately, he was the only one.
"What did he tell you?" She sat up sharply.
"Your pregnant, hun! Isn't that great! A l'il Majors!" he patted her stomach fondly.
"Brad I have something to tell you," she said, avoiding his glance.
"Janet, what? You can tell me anything," he placed a reassuring hand on her hands.
She should tell him about the episode in the doctor's office? No. Absolutely not. No.
"It's not yours," she looked at him, directly in his eyes. Tears brimmed her eyes, as she searched his face - there was no hurt. No look of astonishment. Nothing.
He looked down, avoiding the now questioning gaze. "I know," his voice barely audible. Taking a deep breath, he looked up again.
"How?" and she immediately regretted the question. Wasn't it obvious?
"The Doctor told me."
Then the world stopped. Janet kept her mouth from opening; the room stared spinning again, she was afraid she'd black out. Grabbing the arm of the couch, she took sharp inhales. "What do you mean… the doctor told.. you?" She backed away from him.
"Well, he didn't tell me directly…" he tried to get closer to her, but she made it apparent that wasn't happening at the moment. "He told me that he said you were pregnant, and that then, right before you fainted, you muttered 'frank'. It obviously has no meaning to him, but I know what it means."
"Brad I have something to tell you," she said… again.
"A day of confessions, eh?" He joked, and smiled.
"Remember, that night, when I screamed on the steps?"
"Yes…"
"When I started babbling about something crazy?"
"Yes, Janet, what is it?" He took one of her shaking hands into his, and held it as close to him as possible.
"Well, when I was going upstairs, it was getting colder, but the doors and window were closed. And then… this voice.. whispered in my ear," she was reliving the scene again. She feared she would relive it over and over, no matter what she was going through. "It said 'he's mine…'."
"Brad shifted closer to her on the couch. "Who was it?" He believed her. He fully believed her. He didn't have a reason not to.
"Frank. I know it was Frank. It was his voice… it had to be… I thought he meant you… and then I found out that I was…" she left the sentence off, it was better left unsaid.
"You think he's still alive?"
"I had a dream… he and Rocky just got up and came to Denton… I was thinking about it when I heard it…" her face turned pale, all the blood gone. She curled herself up on the couch, separating her connection with Brad.
"Now, Janet, understand that I completely believe you. I do, I really do. But, since you were thinking about the dream, are you sure you hadn't… imagined it?"
It was bad enough that she had dreamed Frank and Rocky had come back, whenever someone knocked on the door, she ran and hid; she was pregnant by a transvestite, that wasn't a self esteem booster either; and now the fact her fiancé doesn't believe her. She couldn't cry though. She was all cried out.
"Oh Janet…" He got up to move closer, and hugged her; she hugged back, and didn't plan on letting go. He did, although, and laid on the couch next to her, keeping her company, and brushing away tears that happened to fall.
¤¤¤
Wandering blindly from room to room, she looked around. Not having been through the whole house before, she found it quite intriguing. When she stumbled upon the bridal sweet, she gladly invited herself in.
It was a huge room, very large. There was the bed to the left, again the wall. Red velvet, she believed. Huge drapes all around it, probably very sensual and romantic if given a chance.
The whole room was richly decorated in a very deep and lush red. Candles were placed in various places, as well.
It was his room as well, so all of this personal belongings were there as well. Spotting a rather large table in corner, she checked it for possibility. It turned out to be a vanity mirror and table.
Go figure.
She cleared the makeup all into one drawer, in which it all fit.
She smiled at her face, and fixed her hair a bit. Swiveling around, she looked at his room.
His room.
Well, not anymore.
¤¤¤
"Janet!"
"Ohhhhmigoood…" she screamed once more, and threw her head back. Please be over soon!!!, was her main thought.
When it was finally over, she collapsed on the bed, and breathed normally again. Brad left her side, and walked to the other end of the room.
Propping herself up again, she smiled a sigh of relief as a tiny baby was given to her in a towel. With tears running down her eyes, she smiled at Brad… who was not smiling back.
He took a brief glance at her, and then continued looking out the window and up at the sky. She knew what he was looking at. Or for.
Going back to the baby, she needed a name. They hadn't talked about a name for the baby, or even the baby itself.
"Tim," she suddenly said. The nurse came over.
"Thomas? Or Timothy?"
"Tim," she looked up, slightly annoyed.
"Tim Majors or Tim Weiss," she asked, previously knowing they were not married.
She was awfully tempted to say 'Tim Futer', but Brad felt bad enough already, she didn't need to rub it in. "Tim… Majors." Brad turned around at this, and did smile back at her.
The nurse, Nurse Ansalong, left the room quietly, and left the two in peace.
"Why Tim?" Brad came over and looked at the baby. His baby, no matter what anyone else said.
"I … don't know. It just came to me," she raised an eyebrow, actually wondering where the name Tim came from. Shrugging it off, she handed the little bundle to Brad who gladly held him.
"I know, you don't particularly want to talk about this, neither do I, but we're going to have to some time, so it's now or never."
Pulling up a chair, and knowing what he was in for, Brad handed the baby back to his future wife, and listened.
"He does look like Frank. He's just a baby, barely in this world at all, but look. His eyes… his lips, even. No matter how young, he looks like Frank," she said, not ashamed, not quietly, she just outright said it.
"I noticed," he shifted uncomfortably. Although Janet was right, they would have to talk about it, he always felt uncomfortable knowing that their first baby was not entirely theirs.
"I know you're uncomfortable. I am, too. This is not my idea of a first baby. This is the product of a nightmare. But, Brad, darlin', you're going to have to except the fact that this is Frank's baby. But he's dead. Gone. So, now, he's your baby. We don't have to tell him. No one has to know but us, okay?"
"Oh, Janet," Brad started to cry, and he leaned over and hugged his wife. After months of therapy, countless panic attacks of seeing Frank and Rocky in various places, she was now proclaiming in a regular tone of voice that he is dead. Dead and out of her life.
Almost.
¤¤¤
With only days left in the hospital, and Brad spending most of his time there, he retreated home to go about the house, and generally accommodate Janet and Tim. He even went out and bought a few extra pillows for miscellaneous places that he knew Janet usually hung around.
When everyone was finally home and settled in, life became no easier. Janet's personal life went out the window, and Brad became a cashier at a local department store. It didn't pay 30 million a year, but it kept the family going and food on the table.
Family. They were a family now. They, although, had decided to put the wedding off until they were back in shape and had their lives in order.
Little Tim, 1-month old Tim had started to develop a special fondness for artwork. Janet, now a mother and housewife, always turned on a painting program that Tim was specially interested in.
She was nervous at first, was this normal for babies this young to develop such a special connection with something?
Then she remembered - he was a Transylvanian. There was human blood in him somewhere, but he was a Transylvanian.
With realising this, Janet knew this could take a turn for the worse.
Art, one day. What next? Makeup?
Unable to contact any "Transylvanian Specialists", nor Riff or Magenta, she went about nurturing her baby's obsession every day.
In the small spare room that became the baby's, she placed the items from her 'adventure', and different pieces of artwork conveniently found in the attic - she figured Brad must have inherited them some a distant relative.
Also very often while singing Tim to sleep, she sang a song she swore just came to her one day. It sounded so hauntingly familiar, but positive she'd never heard it before, she copyrighted it as her own.
"Science Fiction, Double Feature… Dr. X will build a creature… see androids fighting Brad and Janet… Ann Francis stars in Forbidden Planet…" Rocking him gently to sleep in her arms, she sang the song she'd made up about their adventure. All from her point of view, and how if affected her. She had a personal connection with the song in some odd way, but she could never quite put her finger on it.
Janet, of course, never let Brad hear her singing the song. Ever. She was afraid that he would understand the meaning of the song and ban her from singing it. He was kind and very caring, but that was a day that was never brought on purpose; never joked about; never talked about in general.
When Tim laughed, you could hear the tone of voice that Frank used. That same tantalising giggle, a cackle almost. The smile was so mysterious, as if he knew something everyone didn't.
He hadn't yet attempted anything Frank would have - no crawling into his mother's closet, secretly getting into her makeup. Yet. Preferably never. Just because he was the child of a transvestite, does not he himself has to be a transvestite.
Janet now also noticed his interest in music. No particular kind, just music in itself. He always fell asleep quicker and slept soundly if Janet sang him to sleep.
Brad did question all the works of art that had mysteriously come down from the attic and into the baby's room.
There was no answer, ever. Janet never answered the question. She just smiled and winked, keeping about her business. It sent shivers down Brad's spine - Frank winked just before he went back… under the sheets… Dismissing the memory quickly, he smiled nervously and walked upstairs absent mindedly.
Tim, who had fallen asleep to Bach's Concerto No. 3, was oblivious to the world around him as Brad walked in and looked down into his crib. Reaching over, he turned off the music, hopping it wouldn't disturb him.
It didn't.
Creeping out of the room with a smile, he paused on the steps and saw Janet holding Frank's pearl necklace… and crying.
"Oh please come back Frank… Come back and take me away…"
¤~¤~¤
She heard familiar music play. She knew the tune, she was humming it, but Janet just couldn't figure out quite what song it was… It was a rock tune, and she couldn't help but move her head to the beat. Brad wasn't home, it was just her and Tim, so Janet felt free do what she pleased.
"I'm just a sweet transvestite, from Transsexual, Transylvania!" She sang along loudly with the music.
Then her hands flew to her mouth in realisation that she just sang that. Out loud.
…With the music.
Rushing up the stairs, running like she had never run in her entire life; bounding up stairs at two at a time, she leaped into the baby's room.
He was there. Everything was in place.
In a way.
The stereo was there. Only it was blasting a karaoke Sweet Transvestite.
Then she peered into the crib.
Tim, little baby Tim, was in a red bustier, skimpy, but small panties, tiny fishnets and tiny heels. Around him was a feather boa, red as well. He looked up at her with a blank look, and his face was covered with makeup.
The floorshow.
She gasped, and started to scream, but she saw a note, hung at the top of the crib. Grabbing it, and doing her best to open it without ripping it…
"He is MY child. He will grow up Transylvanian."
Frank. Had been in her house. Frank. Dead Frank. Killed-by-a-beam-of-anti-matter-Frank was in her house and with the baby.
Touching her mouth with her fingertips she read the letter over and over.
Then the door opened, and all was right again - Brad was home! Darling Brad!
She rushed to the top of the stairs, but before she got there…
"Janet! We're hooome!" was yelled, followed by a silence.
She stopped dead in her tracks, nearly falling down the stairs. Frank and Rocky. Back. In her house. Now. Right now. And she was alone.
Catching herself, she ran halfway down the stairs before she nearly fell again.
It was not the fact that Frank, whom she saw murdered was walking through her house.
It was not the fact that Frank was standing, helping himself to whatever was in the fridge.
It was the fact that Brad was standing behind Frank.
With his arms around Frank's waist.
Woo, what a fic.. I'm deciding to place the author's note at the bottom… obviously I don't own anything, except maybe Tim, who's a spin off on Tim Curry (bonus points if you got that before hand). This is only chapter 1, I hope to write more… well, didja like it? I'll write the remaining chapters if you liked it! : ) I promise! This seems important somehow, but I know Brad and Janet aren't always seeming to be in the character we know them as. Well, first of all, they changed so I was kinda free to take them where I wanted, plus the fact that we've only seen them ½ naked in bed with Frank, or scared out of their minds. ; ) Tell me what you think! It's the beginning of my Rocky writings, so please don't flame me too bad!