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

A/N: Somehow Janet 'reverts' into some sort of angsty teenager temporarily. This is just so weird.

Wednesday, January/8/1975

Dear Diary,

The last few months we've fallen into a routine of sorts.

Every morning Janet and I get up at the same time. We eat breakfast together (usually cereal), and then she goes to work. I spend most of the day at the 'house' reading or trying to understand whatever project Robby happens to be working on (he's been trying to fix all the broken tech they left behind, I think). Then Janet comes home and cooks dinner.

It's almost like we're a parody of the stereotypical American family. You know, the sort seen only on television. I'm the housewife, she's the 'dad', and Robby is like our 6-foot tall robotic kid. Not that I've ever mentioned this to Janet…

Janet started going back to work only a week or two after I found her outside. The fact that Brad had left town prompted that, I think. Technically nobody else knew what had happened that night... except for Dr. Scott. But he doesn't really count, because he's so busy with his job that there's really no way she'd run into him.

Pretending to be her sister isn't as hard as I thought, which is a bit odd.

I don't resemble her at all, even though I've stopped dyeing my hair bright pink. Now it's this weird light brown color. Yes, I've been dyeing my hair so long that I barely recognize its natural color.

So, life has been going well. Nothing interesting has happened... until today. I only write important things, as you know, and something terribly important has happened to Janet.

She's pregnant.

Obviously, the baby is Frank's. Since it's impossible for an artificial human like Rocky to have offspring, we know Frank is the father.

And even I am somewhat freaked out by this.

I try not to be, though. In this strange household of ours I'm the only adult who acts like one. Though Janet is older than me (26!), I'm more mature. That's probably because she never really had to grow up. Her life was supposed to follow a very specific format: get an education while still living with your parents, then get married and let him take care of you.

That's not very realistic in this day and age.

Yesterday is when she found out that she was pregnant. One of those drugstore tests confirmed it, apparently.

I found out when I questioned her strange behavior this morning.

"Why aren't you eating your breakfast?" I asked her.

"I'm pregnant, Laurie," she said darkly.

Oh, she refers to me by my 'real name' now. I got so tired of her

"Pregnant people can eat cereal, too," I replied.

Janet glared at me. "I know. I'm not eating my breakfast because I'm pregnant. I'm not eating my breakfast because I'm upset that I'm pregnant…"

"That doesn't make sense. Eat your breakfast, it's good for you," I told her.

And then, she stormed off. I suppose I was a bit rude, but she was being awfully childish!

A moment later, Robby entered the room.

"Where is Miss Janet?"

"She's all upset. I wouldn't bother her, if I were you," I replied.

"You would not bother her, if you were me? Is that an order?" the robot asked.

"No. I'm just saying that I think it's a bad idea to go after her. You don't have to take that advice or even agree with me," I explained.

"Oh."

"Hey, is there some way we can un-program you so you don't follow the Three Laws?" I asked him.

"I am not sure. Lately, I have been trying to figure something out. I will tell you if I do find a way. Would you approve of the Laws being deleted?"

I laughed. "I think it would be beneficial if we can take those restrictions away. They don't do very much good!"

"It is nice that you agree, Miss Columbia," he said.

At about 3 o'clock in the afternoon, it registered in my mind that Janet hadn't ever gone to work yet. That was bad…

So, I called Ms. Brewster and explained that Janet wasn't feeling good today. Luckily the old lady didn't seem to mind. She's too nice to people. Though Janet often misses workdays here and there, Ms. Brewster doesn't mind. I suppose it is a privately owned library. Privately owned yet open to the public, that is.

After that I went to find Janet.

That only took a minute or two, since she happened to be her room. She's as predictable as a teenage- and just as whiny. I feel like I'm her mother sometimes… and I'm seven years younger than her!

Oh, well.

She was sitting on her bed reading. At first I believed it to be a library book. That would make sense, since she works at a library.

"What are you reading?" I inquired, leaning against the doorframe.

The sound of my voice apparently startled Janet. Though she recovered quickly enough to stuff the book under a pillow before I could properly see the cover.

Then, before she could stop me, I stalked over to the bed and grabbed the book. It looked very familiar…

"Is that my diary you were reading?" I asked, though I knew the answer already.

Blushing, she nodded.

I sighed. "Why are you reading it?"

"Well… I wanted to see what sort of life you live. Though I share a house with you, I don't actually know you very well. Anyway, I planned to just flip through it and barely read an entire entry. But then I saw my name. It was the stuff you wrote the day after, um, that night. It scares me, you know."

Suddenly, Janet wasn't that 'dumb blonde' she usually is. That really surprised me. Maybe it's like how I used to pretend to have drug abuse-induced memory loss.

"Wait… what scares you?" I asked, once I'd really thought about what she'd said.

"At first it all seemed like the most wonderful thing in the world. Now, however, I'm scared. The initial feeling of pleasure is now hidden beneath layers of shame and disgust. Reality is back and I'm freakin' pregnant. I simultaneously hate myself and wish for him to be alive so I can down my sorrows in pleasure… I'm not sure what to do anymore," she explained.

Then, Janet began to cry.

I felt so bad for the poor kid. The weirdest thing about what I think of her is that she's, chronologically speaking, older than me. When it comes to understanding of the world, of course, she's a teenager.

Stupidly enough, I sat down on the bed beside her and put one arm around her.

"Shh," I whispered in her ear. "It's gonna be okay."

Then I made the worst mistake of all. I softly caressed her neck with my lips, then kissed her lips. Strangely, she didn't scream or faint or anything. I think she kissed me back, though it's hard to tell.

For a while we sat there together. Both my arms were wrapped around her. And she leaned against my left shoulder; her tear-stained face nestled against my neck.

Whoa, that last bit sounds weird even in context.

Anyway, I now have reasons to believe it wasn't just the castle's mind-control-thingy that made her not mind awkwardly groping another girl (me) while we all wore those crazy matching burlesque outfits.

That sounds even weirder than the sentence about my neck and her face!

This is bad. Now I'm falling in love with a pregnant bisexual-in-denial. While living in a weird underground bunker. With a robot.

My life is so bloody screwed up.

- Columbia (a reasonably respectable person)

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