This story is a different take on the same notion, brought up in a RHPS fanfic discussion group, that inspired Faye Raye's story "Crime of Passion". Hope you enjoy!
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As I walk out of the ballroom, hand in hand with my beloved sister, one thought keeps echoing in my head…
I did it. I actually did it.
While the thought itself is clear enough, my reactions to it are considerably more ambivalent. I tried desperately to hold on to the exhilarating feeling of power that had flooded my being immediately afterward, as I'd surveyed those three motionless bodies - dead at my own hand - but it was no use. That triumphant sensation dissolved with Magenta's comment to me, "But I thought you liked them. They liked you."
Liked them? Oh, please. As far as I'm concerned, Rocky was a…a thing, not a person. What was to like? Columbia was not only irritating, but she had a relationship with my sister I wasn't entirely comfortable with. As for Frank…well, I don't even want to deal with my feelings toward him, but it's safe to say the word "like" is a less than appropriate characterization. What really defeated me, however, was Magenta's completely incomprehensible assumption that the three of them had liked me. My impulsive, uncensored response had betrayed my bitterness. "They didn't like me. He never liked me!" Note the use of the word he. Better yet, don't. Forget I said it. It doesn't bear thinking about.
Fortunately, Magenta is apparently disinclined to cross-examine me on that verbal slip, or perhaps she didn't notice it. We start walking toward my small bedroom, when she turns to me with a sly smile on her face.
"I think we should try a different bedroom tonight."
I stop walking and stare at her, with what must be an expression of complete confusion on my face. Without saying a word, she smiles more broadly and pulls me toward the lift…and suddenly I know exactly which bedroom she has in mind.
Oh, goddess, no.
She must sense my reluctance, because she turns to me with a certain amount of exasperation. "It isn't as if he's going to object. Haven't you ever wondered what it would be like to sleep in that bed?"
Well, yes, but not quite in the way she thinks. I shake my head, as if trying to physically dispel those thoughts from my head. Pasting a smile as thin as my hair onto my face, I murmur, "Yes, I suppose so."
She nods triumphantly. "So let's go."
Obviously I have no choice. We ride the lift to the second floor, and I allow her to lead me to that den of iniquity where, a mere few hours ago, he and his "creation" spent some quality time together. For a moment we both stand in silence, taking in the heavy curtains, the stained glass backdrop…and the large bed, with its rumpled satin sheets, nestled before it.
Finally, Magenta speaks. "I think I'd better change the sheets. I'll be right back."
Waiting for her return, I find myself consumed with thoughts of all the erotic interludes that had taken place in that bed. Oh, if only furniture could talk.
Fortunately, before my thoughts can sink too deeply into dangerous territory, I hear the click of her high-heeled boots on the marble floor. I sigh with silent relief as she walks into the room, a mass of black satin bundled in her arms. With expert speed, she strips the bed and puts on the fresh bedclothes. As soon as she finishes her task, she turns to me with a seductive smile on her face.
"Are you ready to make this bed your own?"
Just think about Magenta. Don't think about anything…or anyone…else. With that mantra running through my head, I manage to smile back at her. Stepping closer, I help her out of her uncomfortable uniform, and she does the same for me. We tumble onto that enormous bed, slip between those sensuous sheets, and melt into each other's arms. Maybe it's our new sense of freedom, or maybe there's something about the room itself, but our bodies unite with the kind of white-hot passion we haven't experienced since our earliest days as lovers.
When we finally separate, satiated and deliciously exhausted, I cannot help but smile. The tension in my body has melted away, and it feels as if our lovemaking has exorcised the ghosts of past liaisons lingering in this room. I find myself sinking into a deep, dreamless sleep.
I have no idea how much time has passed when I am jarred awake. I lie there, confused not only about my location, but also about what awakened me. At first, I am greeted by nothing but silence. Then, I hear it again.
"Huh, huh, huh, huh."
I bolt upright. I must be losing my mind, but it sounds just like Rocky!
No. Ridiculous. I must be under more pressure than I'd realized. I try to capture the sound, but all is again silent. I shake my head at my own foolishness, and manage to settle back down to sleep.
A couple of hours pass…then, again, I am awakened. This time, there is no mistaking the sound. A high, cartoonish voice asks, "Why did ya do it, Riff? Why did ya do it?"
Columbia! A cold sweat breaks out all over my body, and I start to tremble. What the hell is going on? My eyes strain in the darkness, looking for her, but a close examination reveals no other presence in the room.
Just as I start to calm down, I hear it again. "Why did ya do it, Riff?"
I look over at Magenta, to see if she's hearing what I'm hearing, but she's still sound asleep. Unfortunately, there's no way I'm able to join her in slumber. Although I'm terrified, I slip out of bed and head down to the ballroom. I have to make sure all is as I left it.
I find myself outside the ballroom door, trying to stop shaking – without notable success.
However, I take a deep breath and walk into the room.
After my eyes adjust to the dim light, I look around. Ah, yes, over there is Columbia's body, still in the same position she was in as she fell. I step cautiously over to the pool, and look down at the two figures floating face down in its warm waters. All is as it should be. It must have been my overactive imagination and guilty conscience at work.
Sighing with relief, I start to turn to leave. However, I'm stopped in my tracks by a voice I thought I'd never hear again.
"If it isn't my faithful handyman. Well…how nice."
