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

A/N (original): I'm glad, Guest reviewer, that you think think this story is good. And that you 'ship' Brad/Columbia (something I feared would annoy people). Thank you for reviewing. Also, I'd better thank the all people who enjoy reading this- even if they don't review!

After abandoning Rocky in the library Janet went right to the dining room. This was due to the fact she was far too hungry t think straight. That is, to think properly. She wasn't able to think straight, meaning heterosexually, no matter the circumstances ever since she'd begun daydreaming about Columbia's breasts thanks to that. Not that she planned to ever mention this. She still happened to be attracted to dear Frankie, so things weren't too bad yet. That was an important fact. Anyway... Magenta was surely done cooking everyone's breakfast by then.

She wasn't, alas.

And only the master of the house, meaning fiendish Frank, already sat in the dining room at the somewhat plain table. His eye makeup looked darker than usual, or was the lighting just too dim? Whichever it was made him look creepy. Creepier than he did most of the time, that is. This bothered Janet to the point she half wanted to flee the room screaming like Columbia had when they'd eaten Eddie.

"Ah, hello Janet!" Frank said, once he noticed Janet.

"Hello," she replied softly.

"I'm planning on doing another show five days from now, since our last one was interrupted. Do you think you'll participate again?"

"Yeah," she replied, knowing she didn't really have a choice. That man was even madder than a hatter.

Then, not sure what else to do, she sat down at the table. Two chairs away from Frank. Being too near him would be scary, being too far would make his suspicious. Oh, how challenging was life at the Frankenstein place! Well, how complicated. Though it was the other sort of hard even for men of a more heterosexual persuasion with Frank being around and everything. Janet was trying not to think about all that. Alas, she'd been thinking all sorts of naughtiness since her escapade with Frank not long before. That was something she wasn't pleased by. It didn't work, this new way of thinking. Though that part of the night had been fun and she far from regretted it, the apparent long-term costs were too much. Suddenly having a mind that refused to leave the gutter sure was a change.

Soon after Janet had sat down and begun thinking too much, Dr. Scott entered the room. He wore a respectable suit today. No plaid trousers, probably because of how hilarious they'd looked. People didn't seem to have much respect for him these days! Though he'd still worn a plaid tie to keep people thinking of Scotland. It was far better than them thinking of 'ze Germans' whenever they saw him. Even the walking stick he leaned on had some plaid ribbons tied to it. He'd need to learn an accent soon.

"Hello everyvon," he said, almost too seriously.

It sort of surprised Janet that he walked with a cane now. Of course, he didn't exactly need it. But ever since the floorshow that had made his legs usable again he'd been a bit nervous about walking. Years and years of a wheelchair and then... this. She wasn't used to the sight of it. That man was far taller than she'd long thought. It bothered her slightly.

"Magenta said that breakfast will be ready soon," Frank said, as Dr. Scott sat down. "Ach, Magenta! How I despise zat voman," Dr. Scott muttered darkly.

"Why?" Janet asked.

"Because she is very disrespectful to me. She calls me 'Scotty', for von zing. Und ze-" Then, the dining room door swung open.

Janet was initially surprised when Columbia and Brad walked into the room holding hands. Then again, it sort of made sense. Compared to Frank (and, presumably, many other men Columbia had dated), Brad was really nice. And Columbia was kinda hot, despite the shaved eyebrows and pink hair.

Living in the castle with them both would be weird.
Columbia smiled at Janet. "Brad and I aren't, like, dating or anything. So don't worry about-" Frank raised an eyebrow. "Columbia... what are you going on about now?"
"Nothing, Frankie. Sorry," she muttered, sitting down.
The five of them sat there at the table in strange silence. Nobody knew what to say to each other. Finally, Magenta entered.
"Don't you eat with us?" Brad asked.
"As a mere servant, she's not allowed to dine with we nobles," Frank explained.
Nobody bothered to comment on the fact that they all happened to be relatively normal people.

Then, Magenta served everyone his or her breakfast. Today 'breakfast' meant waffles, fresh strawberries, scrambled eggs, and sausage that Janet carefully avoiding eating. The memory of Eddie's unpleasant fate was still too fresh in her mind.

"Would you get me some coffee?" Frank asked, just as Magenta was leaving the room. She nodded and muttered something that sounded like: "Yes, little soldier boots."

That, of course, made no sense. What would such a thing mean? Going by the look on his face, she'd really said a very severe insult.

Janet tried to eat her breakfast as quickly as possible. Her ex-fiancé and Columbia happened to be sitting right next to each other. And on the side of the table opposite Janet. She couldn't help but worry about all this.

What if they were holding hands? Or, even worse, what if Columbia's hands were down Brad's trousers? Fine, that wasn't very likely. But Janet still worried.

It's not like she still wanted to date him. She didn't even like him enough to really like talking to him. They'd once been the 1950s Good Girl and the All-American Guy... the perfect couple, who'd first dated in high school.

Now they were an ex-couple who'd realized that things don't really work out that way. She'd learned to decipher- and think of- sexual innuendo at a dangerous speed and he'd become quite angry at the universe for not following his schedule.

The second she finished eating her breakfast, she left the room. Being there with him was too much.

For some reason, Janet ended up going to the kitchen. Probably because Magenta was the sanest person around. And the only person (save for Rocky, who was busy in the library) not in the dining room...

"Hi," Janet said

"What do you want?" Magenta asked.

"Nothing, really. Somebody to talk to," Janet replied with a shrug.

"Hmm."

They stood there in silence for a moment. Since Magenta had already cleaned up from cooking everything and didn't have anything she was supposed to be doing, this was especially awkward. It wasn't a sort of situation Janet liked to find herself in. She was far too used to. But now that she was turning into a rebel it seemed that her earlier idea of normality wasn't her sort of thing.

"What did you say to Frank that made him angry? When he asked you for coffee?" Janet asked.

Magenta chuckled darkly. "I called him 'little soldier boots'. His mother – the Empress Dulcibella Aurelia- always dressed him up as a soldier when he was a young child. Over the years she collected tons of shoes specially made for him. So people of the royal court often called him 'little soldier shoes' that as a child. Of course, he hates it. Now he wears heels all the time and avoids any sort of 'serious' shoe."

Again, silence. Even by then Janet wasn't sure what to say to such at thing.

"So... about, er, sleeping arrangements... can I stay in your room again tonight? That is, er, I don't want to be in a room alone since this place is really creepy and-"

"And the only night you've slept in a room alone you end up getting fucked epically by the Master. Yes, you can stay in my room. Just stay out of my bed unless I say it's alright," Magenta said darkly. "What was Columbia's bed should be good enough for you."

Out of slightly horrified curiosity, Janet couldn't help but ask: "Will there ever be a time where you ask me to sleep in your bed?"

"Well, it's winter and the house can get- Janet Vice! I didn't mean it like that!" Janet blushed. "Sorry."

Somehow Janet didn't notice Magenta's mispronunciation of her last name. Even though, going by context, it was probably deliberate.

No, Janet was much too busy trying to figure out why she'd thought Magenta meant... screwing. Living in this castle made you very dirty-minded, it seemed. And crazy.

Before either of them could say anything more, Columbia appeared at the kitchen's doorway. "Er, it's time to clear the table," she told them.

Wearily, Magenta went to do just that. And, to her own surprise, Janet followed to help. Maybe she was beginning to like the redhead... though hopefully not in the wrong way. No, she was too reasonable for that.

The sane people should stick together, Janet decided, in the hope of staying sane. But who was sane anymore? Nobody was truly without some kind of madness. Even in the 'proper' world she's left not long ago. Now that she'd begun to think about everyone and everything was fucked-up in it's own special way.

A/N: Sorry about the cursing in this chapter Also, as of 9/13/2016, sorry about all the new cursing added in my edits. Ooh, I'm such a rebel these days...

Also, Caligula (the nickname of a deranged Roman emperor known for sex, violence, and weirdness involving boats) loosely means 'little soldier's boots' because his parents liked dressing him up as a soldier. Since Frank is a bit like Caligula, in my opinion, I decided to reference that emperor. I think I've referenced him earlier in this very story. I do enjoy comparing Frank to him.

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