Disclaimer: I don't own The Rocky Horror Picture Show.

A/N: Thank you for reviewing, bowie321 and the 'guest'!

"Weren't you going to cook breakfast?" Columbia asked, raising an eyebrow.

Dr. Scott sighed. "Vell, I never found the kitchen. Und it's past dinnertime now. Shall ve order dinner now? Some sort of Chinese?"

"No! First we've got to help Magenta," Janet said. "You do know what's wrong with her… right?"

"Don't need," Rocky replied, gesturing toward Magenta.

To everyone's shock, she seemed to be much better all of a sudden. She sat up, and carefully inspected her heel- or lack thereof. Where the blue-glowing burn had been was… nothing. It looked like somebody had just taken part of her heel away. The remaining flesh looked slightly charred and very unpleasant.

"I'll have the scar forever, won't I?" Magenta muttered in mild annoyance. "If only I hadn't had to rush…"

"Oh! You gave us quite a scare!" Janet exclaimed. "We'd thought you'd died..."

Magenta sighed wearily. "I was using all my energy to heal that injury. Six hours was the least amount of time to heal that injury safely. If I'd had days I might've been a bit less messy. I was trying to avoid scaring everyone too much. And, dear little Scotty, it's not that radioactive nonsense you were talking about. The warp core is made of something that's never found on this planet. It's just the sort of thing that can burn bits of people off. Only dangerous to Earthlings, since they're weak and unable to look after themselves. Anyvay, Janet and Rocky would've been contaminated if it were actually dangerous is such a way."

That's when Frank exited the elevator. Brad- now quite frightened- timidly followed.

"What's going on here?" Frank asked.

"Her alien magic made her heel fix itself..." Janet muttered, looking a bit ill.

By then Janet wasn't feeling very 'powerful' anymore. No more dramatic displays of independent thinking would come from her until a while later. She'd liked it, but now that all these people here caused her to feel childish. The fact that everyone (save for Magenta) was taller than Janet only made matters worse.

"Where's my breakfast?" Frank asked.

"It's dinnertime," Dr. Scott pointed out unhappily.

"No. It's time for breakfast if I say so," Frank replied. "So that means it's breakfast time now. Where's my breakfast? Magenta! Make scrambled eggs!"

Rolling her eyes, Magenta left the room- no doubt going to the kitchen.

Frank surveyed the room carefully. To his annoyance, "You all need to get properly dressed before breakfast. Columbia! Show everyone the Closet and have them pick out suitable clothes."

Without a word, Columbia led the others out of the lab. Through that Dr. Scott-shaped hole in the lab's wall they went. Then, down a hallway or two…

Finally they ended up in a wonderful room.

The walls were lined with racks draped with any sort of clothing one could imagine. From cute vintage day dresses that looked lovely on most people to elegant gowns that only could be pulled off by the queen of England… or maybe a particularly stylish drag queen.

One hobby of Columbia's that rarely came in useful these days was picking out outfits for people. Magenta never allowed anyone else to choose her clothes and implying you knew more about something (i.e., fashion) than Frank always upset him.

But now these three people needed something nice to wear. From what she'd seen last night, Columbia thought that they'd didn't really have much of a sense of fashion.

Grinning to herself, Columbia began to look through the clothes on a rack just to the right of the door. That's where most of the vintage stuff was. Janet probably looked best in slightly old-fashioned clothes, Columbia decided.

"Hey, Janet! How do ya like this?" Columbia asked, holding up a dress from the 1930s.

The dress was a lovely shade of deep blue, with little grey buttons and matching leather belt. It fell to just below knee-length, had a white pointed collar, and a fitted waist that would work very well with Janet's petite frame.

"It's nice… I guess. I'll try it on," Janet replied nervously.

Still grinning cheerfully, Columbia tossed the dress to Janet. The woman caught it and held it up in front of herself. By the time she'd decided to try it on, Columbia had already moved on to find something for Brad to wear.

"Hmm…" she muttered to herself.

Columbia knew that he wouldn't look good in the same styles as his (ex?) fiancée. No, Brad happened to be too tall for that. He looked about six foot five…

Yet that one blouse- the red and white striped one with the red bowtie- would look really nice on him. And, after a while, she found some light brown high waisted trousers.

"Here ya go, Brad," Columbia then said.

He was too tired to express his primitive ideas on fashion. Yes, both items of clothing were technically made for woman. But soon he realized the red looked pretty good on him. Hell, anything's better than the awful burlesque outfit still he wore. It looked horrid by then. The stockings had a thousand tears in them and the corset seemed to be falling off. This he'd been staunchly ignoring for some time.

It took about five seconds to find an outfit for poor old Dr. Scott. Plaid trousers, a simple black jacket, a white button down shirt, and the tie he already wore. A walking stick (to help him walk while he got used to his newly-restored legs) completed the not-so-stylish look. At least he was being stereotyped as a Scottish person, which was far better than being seen as a Nazi. Dr. Scott nearly smiled.

Columbia showed them to a nearby dressing room and, then, began looking for an outfit for herself.

Something glittery. Yes, her outfit must be very glittery. And so colorful that it hurt people's eyes! A bright pink jacket; a rainbow, sequin-covered 'vest' of sorts that was very much like the corset she'd worn to yesterday's convention; glittery corset; and rhinestone covered shoes. Very, very glam rock.

"Bright red on my lips, a skimpy see-through number... and a mini on my hips," Columbia said to herself.

Though it took a while to find that lovely outfit, the others will still getting dressed by the time she did. Or so she thought. These square strangers were. The sound of someone stepping on a very creaky floorboard alerted Columbia of the fact that someone was watching her. Janet freakin' Weiss of all people happened to be staring at Columbia's (far from unattractive) currently-visible breasts. Only once Columbia had finished buttoning up her top did Janet realize that Columbia noticed what exactly she'd been looking at. That was not good at all, in Janet's mind.

"I'm not a… female homosexual! I swear!" Janet squeaked, blushing furiously.

Columbia sighed wearily. "You known what the one and only sensible rule of Frank's house is?"

"What?"

"No nasty labels. We all hate them. And I'm pretty sure they don't exist in their planet's language. Do not say gay, lesbian, or any related words… or synonyms of those words. Putting people in categories isn't really very useful. Being stuck in one of those categories is horrible," Columbia explained. "Anyone can fuck anyone and there isn't going to be any commentary. Queen is okay, 'cause that's like calling somebody a greaser or mod. But we aren't any certain sexuality here. That's how their planet is superior to ours. We foolish Earthlings are still stuck with all our specific roles."

"Sorry," Janet muttered awkwardly, not sure what else to say.

"It's okay. Just don't make that mistake again, kiddo."

A/N: I'm sorry about my personal opinions 'seeping' into this story. Even though they stopped earlier this school year, I'm still really angry at a group of kids at my school who constantly pointed out how 'gay' I apparently am (even though 'lesbian' is technically a more accurate term for a girl and I do like guys sometimes). So I now hate any words that mean that sort of thing.

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