18. In the Storm

Rocky Horror does not belong to me; it belongs to the eternally awesome Richard O' Brien.

More playing around with the POVs! Yay!

Content warning for drug smoking (and a probably-inaccurate depiction at that).

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According to the radio, this weather wasn't going to get any better (apparently, it was worse around New York and Washington, and she'd hate to see that). The blizzard had picked up while she got her tap session in for the day. Now what was she going to do? She had been planning to visit Mom again, but a little voice at the back of her mind said that this was a good stay-under-the-blankets-with-a-mug-of-hot-chocolate day, not a day to take a chance with the weather.

Apparently, everyone else thought the same way. Ever since she got up, she'd only seen Magenta and one or two loose Phantoms around; everyone made themselves scarce. The lack of seeing Frank wasn't that surprising; if he wasn't in the lab, who knew what the hell he got up to? Come to think of it, she'd barely seen Frank over the last few days; the dinner with Farley was on Friday, which was coming fast. He loved going all out for special events down to the last detail, but a dinner just to convince one person to leave them alone? What could he possibly have planned?

Well, she had an idea. She wouldn't put it past Frank; he always got to that point with visitors sooner or later. The question was how he was going to keep Farley here. Usually, there was something already happening to draw the poor saps in; in Brad and Janet's case, it had been Rocky's creation.

That thought made her stop. Rocky; what about him? Would he know what to expect? Would he even care? Despite his so-called "feeling of foreboding," he seemed to take things in stride (a side effect of trying to stay on Frank's good side, probably). Besides, even though she had a pretty good feeling herself, she couldn't be sure; maybe Frank would convince the guy some other way without touching him.

She'd already known what Frank was doing with Brad when Rocky and Janet found them on the monitor, and, no, she didn't feel bad that Frank had broken someone else's trust, not even that of the man built to replace her. (Okay, her heart sank a little bit, but that could have been from anything). Still, maybe a warning this time would be nice.

Where was Rocky most likely to be? His and Frank's room? Wandering around? The gym? Duh, of course, the gym! She didn't go that way very often, but she knew roaming the halls would take her there eventually, and that's exactly what she did. She heard a shower running and being shut off as she approached, followed by Rocky stepping into the hall, toweling off his hair.

"Morning!" She called cheerfully. He turned his head and grinned when he saw her. "Morning!" She trotted up to him. "Can I talk to you about something?" "Sure, what is it?" She was about to answer when her excitement at finding him quickly turned into a realization that he was completely naked. This was quickly followed by an overwhelming need to keep looking only at his face and, wait, was she blushing? She'd seen plenty of naked men before (some more muscular than others), and she'd never gotten flustered trying to avoid looking below their shoulders. (If she could, she'd smack the little voice in her head that said a very impressed Damn!)

There was no way she could talk to him like this. She needed to think straight and she, somehow, couldn't do that when the guy she wanted to talk to was wearing nothing at all. Thankfully, she knew just what could help. "I gotta get something from my room first," she suggested, pointing to a room across the hall, "Let's meet in there in a few minutes." "Okay, he said, reaching down to scratch his leg and finally noticing the way he was. "Guess I should get dressed, huh?"

"If you want," she shrugged, trying to keep her voice light. She would have cringed at saying that, but Rocky just laughed as he walked up the hall towards his and Frank's room. Had it been anyone else, she would have known they were laughing at her. But this? Maybe she was crazy, but his laugh didn't have that edge. It sounded like…well, like he'd just heard a funny joke.

This thought stayed with her as she returned to her room and opened her top dresser drawer, feeling around among the clothes. Her fingers brushed against paper, and she smiled as she pulled out an envelope and dumped its contents onto her bed: a plastic bag containing some "borrowed" pot from the Zen Room (already ground up), and a bunch of loose rolling papers. A good joint never let her down before, and after what she'd seen, she needed something to calm her nerves (and, hopefully, make it easier to say what she needed to say). After plenty of practice, she had rolling a joint down to an art, firmly reminding herself as she did so that muscle men weren't her type.

She decided one should be enough, and slipped the joint, along with her lighter, into her pocket before finding her way back to the room. Rocky was already there, seated on a low sofa, wearing a pair of long, loose, black pants threaded with silver and nothing else.

As she took the joint from her pocket, she heard herself asking, "Hey, uh, you wanna share this?" "Sure." He looked surprised, but not as much as if she'd asked him that a month ago (Fair, she thought with a twinge of guilt). The sofa was large enough for both of them, but he scooted over anyway as she sat down. Well, she wasn't about to let things get awkward now, although one last thought pointed out to be better safe than sorry. "You know how to smoke one of these?" "Frank showed me how," he said. Good enough for her. She flicked the lighter on and held the flame to the tip.

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They didn't say much at first, just tried making themselves comfortable in each other's company. She had a brief realization that sharing would use up this joint pretty quickly, and she probably should have made a few more, but that thought was carried away on the smoke as she breathed out. His initial surprise, and worry of Frank finding him naked in front of someone else… actually, as he took his first hit and held the smoke for a moment, he wondered why he was surprised and worried. They were getting along better than before, and Frank was too busy to interrupt them like he usually did.

At some point, a vase from one of the shelves appeared in front of them as an ashtray. Other than that, they easily found a rhythm of taking a hit, holding on for a moment, then passing the joint over as they exhaled, reveling in the lightheadedness that followed. Whatever discomfort there had been earlier just…wasn't there anymore, and they heard themselves speaking freely.

"What do you think he's going to be like?"

She turned her head. "Who?"

"Farley Flavors."

"I don't know. He does a lot of commercials for his burger places, and he's gotta be rich if he's running a TV station. Still, something about him-he might be cool in real life, but I just don't like looking at him. There's a vibe."

"What if he exposes us anyway? What would happen?"

"First thing is I think Frank and all the other Transylvanians would be carted off to some lab to be cut up and studied, maybe by the same people Eddie's uncle works for."

"Would they, really?"

"Wouldn't you if you found a bunch of aliens living nearby?"

He didn't know. Would he? "But you're human, so you would be ok. What would they do to me?"

Oh yeah, finding an artificially-created-man would raise a few questions. "Maybe they'll put you on TV. 'The Second Coming of Charles Atlas,' or something."

"You could go on TV too. You could have a show where you tap dance all the time!"

Why had she ever hated him? He really was a sweet guy. "If we ask nicely, they might even give us our own show together, like Sonny and Cher." From there, the conversation drifted into ideas for skits and their choice of guest stars.

Finally, the room was quiet again, and a knot of worry (smaller than it could have been, thanks to the pot) formed in the pit of her stomach. She had to bring it up sooner or later; best to ease into it. "I guess we shouldn't worry. Frank knows what he's doing, right?"

He half-nodded, half-shrugged. If there was one thing he'd learned from the start, it was that anything could happen.

Well, now or never. "Remember the time you found Frank with that other guy?"

"You mean, the night I was created?"

"Exactly."

"Why do you ask?"

"Just a crazy thought. Do you think he would do that again, say, with someone like Farley Flavors?"

"I don't think so."

Well, this was new. "Really?"

"I know I worry a lot, but I'm trying not to. Our relationship has been going really well. I mean, I know he's not around all the time, but when we are together, he does everything he can to make that time special. He keeps telling me not to worry about this visit, and I'm going to trust him for once, instead of expecting the worst."

Wow, she did not expect that at all coming from him. He sounded pretty sure, so maybe she could warn him another time. Still, why would he trust Frank that much? "Let me ask you something. What do you think of Frank?"

"He created me."

"I know, but aside from that. When you look at him, what do you feel?"

"It's…hard to say. I know I'm here because of him, and I'm grateful for that, but… sometimes, I just don't know how to feel about him. Sometimes, I'm still afraid of him, that if I make him mad, he'll do what he did…before." Was it safe to mention Eddie? The delivery boy wasn't saying anything. "Can I say something about Eddie?"

"Only if you don't call him 'ugly.'" She smiled as she said this, like she was trying not to laugh. At least, she hoped that's how it sounded.

"I just want to know why he was there. When I asked Frank, he didn't really answer my question."

She looked away; even as high as she was, her stomach dropped. Of all things, why did he want to know about that? "I just know Eddie delivered a lot of the supplies Frank needed. It surprised me when he came out of the freezer too."

He saw her face fall and knew to tread carefully as he passed the joint back. "I was just curious whether he did anything to help with my creation." He was pretty sure he heard her mumble, "You have no idea," before taking a hit. This topic was starting to get risky. "Sorry for bringing it up."

"Don't worry about it. That's why we're here." She was just glad he caught on before they went any further. "By the way, how do you like your first winter with all this snow?"

"It's been good so far. Frank got me a coat that matches his and we've been going for walks when it's nice enough. How about you? What do you think of it?"

"It's not so bad. The only problem is I've been meaning to visit my mom, but of course the weather had other plans."

An image of her kneeling by a gravestone appeared in his mind; probably shouldn't mention that. "Does your mom live near here?"

Oh shit, she shouldn't have said anything, should she? "Uh, around that way," she said, waving her hand in the general direction of the cemetery.

"Do you get to see your mom a lot?"

"Sometimes." With that, she threw the end of the joint into the vase. He watched the thin trail of smoke, following it up into the air until it disappeared.

Maybe she didn't accomplish what she had set out to do. Maybe he brought up one or two things he shouldn't have. Maybe they were both too high to care about what they said. Right now, they were just content.

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The smell of the pot hung faintly in the air. He breathed deeply, concentrating on the warmth that had spread throughout his body.

What time was it? How long had they been doing this? When was Frank going to announce his presence?

He could worry about that later. Whatever was in the joint left him with a pretty good high. Turning his head, he saw Columbia, leaned back with her eyes half-closed, and hoped it had done the same for her.

At some point, her end of the sofa creaked as she stood up and stretched before turning to the window, which showed the blizzard was still in full swing. "Well, I think I'm going to step outside for a little while," she announced, a mischievous smile curling up her lip.

Really? In this weather? What if the storm picked her up and carried her away? He'd have to ask her that quickly, as she was already at the door. At least, he was pretty sure that's what he said. It was either that or, "Can I come with you?"

She stopped and turned, her eyebrows raised. He started to realize he should have expected her to be surprised, but she just shrugged. "Sure, come on."

He got up and they went down the hall together, not really saying anything, and not encountering anyone either. After a quick stop at the hall closet to bundle up, where she took a second to run her hand through his coat's fur trim, they slipped into the empty kitchen and over to the back door.

"Ready?" He asked, hand on the knob. "Let's go," she said, somewhat muffled by her scarf.

He figured it would be cold and windy, but nearly getting knocked backwards with nonstop snow in his face was a little more than he expected.

"We'd better hurry before snow starts piling up in the kitchen," came Columbia's voice over the sounds of the storm. She stepped out, and he followed, gripping the knob tight as the wind tried to push it (and him) back again. Finally, he got it closed, and walked (well, trudged; it wasn't easy moving in snow up to his knees) the few steps ahead she had taken, just far enough so they weren't standing directly in the light from the kitchen.

Only now did he realize she never said what she had planned for this. "What are we doing out here, anyway?"

"Little something my mom taught me, though really any storm can work."

With that, she closed her eyes and lowered her scar from her mouth. Before he could ask any more, she took a deep breath, opened her mouth, and screamed as hard as she could. He stared, watching her do nothing but let the wind carry her voice away, only stopping to take a breath before starting again.

Well, she must have had a reason for doing this, and since he was here too, why should he just stand around? He breathed in and let his voice join hers.

At first, it was just because she was doing it, but he found himself thinking of other reasons to scream. Being alone all the time. Frank telling him not to worry without trying to understand why he was worried. The constant fear of Frank possibly doing to him what he'd already done to Eddie. Watching his step around Columbia so he wouldn't set her off again. Sure, he was still high, but he knew he could feel the screams lifting these anxieties out of his body.

They never planned when they were finished; they just stopped at the same time. His throat burned, but he felt even lighter than before as they braved the few steps back inside and shed their coats.

"That felt good!" She said in a satisfied voice. He nodded; he hadn't even realized this was an option for easing tension (so far, it was always either working out or…Frank's way). "It did, but why did we do it?"

"When we were talking earlier, we kind of got into some things I don't like to think about. That was just an easier way to let the frustration out."

He definitely understood not wanting to talk about something; he just wished he'd known sooner. "Sorry for bringing up stuff you didn't like."

"Don't worry about it. I had a really good time-" She did? "-and if you ever want to share a joint again, I'd be more than happy. You're great to talk to."

If he felt any lighter, he'd probably be floating. Why had he ever been scared of her? He was great to talk to; she had actually said that!

He was relieved, he was delighted, and he was also really hungry.

"Are you hungry at all?"

"A little."

As if on cue, they shared a conspiratorial grin and turned their heads towards the fridge.

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Thanks for reading! See you next chapter!