Disclaimer: I do not own Rocky Horror.

Just a short AU-ish oneshot, exploring the relationship between Columbia and Rocky, presuming that Brad and Janet turn up after he's been created and the castle residents have a little longer with him before the events of the show. Slightly more show-based in terms of character, since Rocky doesn't really talk in the film. Rated T for sex (although it's very vague), dubious relationships and some swearing, because it's Rocky Horror, after all.

Enjoy!

Columbia was lying on her back, with a naked man coated slightly in gold glitter writhing on top of her. This was extremely distracting anyway, when it suddenly occurred to her that she really, really sucked at saying 'no'.

She didn't even like Rocky that much.

No, really.

And it wasn't any sort of proud notion either, like resenting him for being "The new Eddie" or the fact that he had been occupying Frank's mind for the past few months. Or was it weeks? Years?
Columbia had trouble keeping track of the time nowadays. Probably because in the daytime she slept and at night she spent most of the time fucking, eating candy or reading trashy magazines.

Mostly the fucking part, but still.

No. Columbia liked Rocky enough, she supposed. It wasn't exactly his fault that he had half of her ex-lover's brain. He didn't ASK Frank to murder Eddie and then build him. Columbia didn't hate Rocky like Riff Raff did, not that Riff Raff really seemed to like anybody except maybe Magenta. And even then, you couldn't be totally sure. Magenta didn't really seem particularly bothered by him- Rocky was just another addition to the house that she would probably sleep with at some point or another, so it was all the same to her.

Rocky just wasn't really Columbia's type. Not at all. Really, he was more like a puppy, which was kind of a disturbing idea considering what Frank had built him for in the first place. But since the night where Columbia had stormed into the lab and climbed into his tank and had taken a baffled but willing Rocky completely by surprise, he had been following her around ever since. When he wasn't with Frank or running away from Riff Raff, that is.

And, angry with him though she was, Columbia had to admit it.

Frank knew what he was doing when he made Rocky.

He seemed to know, instinctively, where and how she wanted it. His weight was weirdly comforting on top of her, their pants and moans almost in sync as Columbia writhed beneath him, or him beneath her. Didn't really matter, because either way, it was always so fucking good. Columbia was convinced that it was only by sheer luck- or maybe oversight- that nobody else noticed that Rocky had long, thin scratches on his bronzed back or Columbia had suspicious bites on her neck. Because although she had slept with Rocky to piss Frank off, part of her was a little scared of what how he'd react if he found out. Perhaps he had seen the scratches and bites and just assumed they were from him.

But Rocky seemed to think that one casual fuck meant, suddenly, they had a thing. Obviously, it hadn't been all that casual to him. Which was stupid, because Columbia didn't like him. She didn't want to tell him the REAL reason she had fucked him on that first night- he might have been annoying her, but she wasn't cruel. Nobody wants to hear that you only slept with them to get back at somebody else, unless you were incredibly narcissistic. Which, amazingly, Rocky wasn't. And he seemed one of the only people Columbia might have found extreme narcissism forgivable in, given the circumstances.

"Columbia?"

Columbia bit back a groan as Rocky's voice interrupted her reverie. She glanced up to see him staring curiously down at her, with those infuriatingly blue eyes.

"What?" she muttered, sinking her head into the pillow, her scarlet hair tousled.

The way Rocky was looking at her made Columbia feel bad, without really knowing why.

"Why do you always close your eyes?"

Columbia hadn't been expecting that. She raised a painted eyebrow, while Rocky stared down at her, looking puzzled at her reaction.

"Does it bother you?" she asked him, quietly.

Rocky bit his lip.

"Kinda."

The truth was, if Columbia closed her eyes, she could almost fool herself into believing that it was Eddie on top of her, not Rocky. She could imagine the scent of the leather jacket he always wore, the stuff he put in his oil-black hair. But now she thought about it, the whole idea was ridiculous and faintly obscene. Eddie was dead, and Rocky was here, alive and it wasn't his fault.

Columbia looked at Rocky, then leaned up and slowly kissed him, biting his lower lip gently as Rocky slid his hands around her waist. There was a sweet flavor that she hadn't noticed before. When they broke apart, Columbia looked him right in the eye.

"That better?" she asked him, feeling silly, but enjoying the way Rocky's face lit up.

"Yeah..." he nodded, smiling. Then he added, almost shyly, "You have pretty eyes."

Columbia laughed.

"Rocky?"

"Yeah?"

"Shut up and fuck me."

Rocky, who was always willing to return a favor, was only too happy to oblige. Columbia smiled almost reminiscently.

He tasted like candy.

Any reveiws would be sweet. :)