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Disclaimer: Richard O'Brien owns us all.

Chapter Four: Changes

"I can't believe you!" shouted Columbia, her hand over her face. "You couldn't even pretend to be nice to them!"

Frank sighed melodramatically. "I just couldn't bear the thought of living near THOSE people."

"You didn't have to make it obvious!" exclaimed Columbia, and she angrily left the room.

Jane rolled her eyes as she shoved the cake into the refrigerator. Frank and Columbia had been fighting nonstop since they had been ushered out of the Frankenstein Place a month before.

"So," asked Frank, "what's YOUR take on this?"

Jane shook her head. "I'm not even getting involved this time. I shouldn't have to choose sides." With that, Jane grabbed her book and stomped out through the screen door to the front stoop.

Frank sighed. He was alone, yet again, after another fight with Columbia. They always seemed to be over the same thing…reluctance to change.

He ran his hands through his hair, sighing. "How did we get here?" he asked himself.

Frank walked towards the bathroom mirror and gazed into it with wonder. He was unrecognizable even to himself with his ordinary clothes and finally tanning makeupless complexion. He would give anything for a chance to wear his fishnets again, but that, of course, was not customary here.

"The fallen prince," he muttered to himself.

"Not fallen," said Columbia, walking into the bathroom behind him. "Just displaced."

Frank grimaced. "Permanently, it seems."

Columbia put her arms around Frank, resting her chin on his shoulder. She laughed under her breath.

"What?" asked Frank, smirking.

"Look at us," said Columbia, gazing into the mirror.

"The youth serum is wearing off," said Frank.

Columbia grinned. "I think the aging is making you look more…"

"More what?" asked Frank, playfully gazing at Columbia.

"Distinguished," she said.

Frank grinned. "You look like you've put on a few years in the past month yourself."

Columbia sighed. "That stuff really worked."

Frank chuckled. "Now we really do look like we could be someone's parents."

"Mmm…" mumbled Columbia, feeling his face with her hands.

"What are you doing?" asked Frank.

"You haven't shaved," Columbia said softly.

"Why should I?" asked Frank in a voice barely above a whisper.

"Don't," said Columbia. "I've never seen you with a beard."

"Maybe I'll grow one," said Frank. "After all, I don't wear all that…"

Columbia quieted him with a kiss.

"You're more of a man than you think, Frankie," she said, grinning as she waltzed out of the room.

A few moments later, Frank put his hand to his face, feeling the stubble. His emotions were beginning to betray him.

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