Disclaimer: I still don't own Rocky Horror, there was just so much left unsaid.

Author's Note: Sorry it took 2 whole months to get this done, school's been getting more intense, I've had projects coming out of my ass! So yeah, the worst is over for now, so hopefully it won't take so long until the next one. For those of you that are still with me, thanks for reading!

As Janet sleeps, her own subconscious is turned to their early courtship as well

She and Brad are in their sophomore year of high school, up to now they've been close friends but nothing more, despite mutual attraction. After a rather flat freshman year--neither had had the courage to go to any of the school dances--they'd decided to go together to homecoming. They're in Janet's living room, practicing formal dances.

"I just can't get the hang of it," Janet bemoans, standing by the window hopelessly. "I can't even learn it in gym class because of my stupid blood-type. Everyone else is normal and healthy, why do I have to be off the charts? I probably shouldn't even go. I'll never be able to do this."

"Sure you can, just one more try and you'll get it," Brad assures her, dragging her back by the hand. "Now. One-two-three, one-two-three…" and he attempts to lead her in a waltz. Every count, though, Janet manages to miss and step on his toes. After a few eye-watering minutes of this latest tutorial, Brad stops abruptly and backs away. "Stop, stop, stop! Here, I have an idea. Take off your shoes."

"I'm sorry," Janet sighs in embarrassment.

"Just take them off. Here. Now stand on my feet." She raises an eyebrow at this, but obeys. Brad adjusts his hold on her; they're standing much closer together this time. Janet looks up at him, her eyes dilating and a blush rising in her cheeks, suddenly shy from his nearness. They're off again, Brad leading while Janet watches their feet to memorize the positions. They move in unison, hypnotically…

Without realizing it, Janet begins crying, suddenly becoming completely inconsolable. Brad stops their dance lesson and helps Janet step down but she refuses to let go of him. Sobs shake her as she clings to him, violently mourning.

"Janet? What's wrong?"

She sniffs, shuddering vulnerably, futilely trying to compose herself, "I d-don't know! I just…can't s-stop…! Don't leave me, please don't leave me alone!"

During the year they have known each other, Janet had experienced two emotionally jarring "flashbacks", as she and Brad had come to call them, although neither one had been as clearly disturbing as this one. He's been the only one to know about them, not even her mother was told, and he kept them a secret at her request.

Brad holds her awkwardly, listening to the piteous sounds she's making. "Was it…one of them?"

Janet nods, "It was just like the others. All it is are…these… feelings."

"What did you feel?"

She breathes deeply to steady herself, "I felt…warm, safe, happy…then it changed so fast! Loss. Someone…went away…something bad happened, I think. You reminded me of it, though, us dancing together. I think I did this before with…someone else. There was something else, too, something…so big. I think it has something to do with you, too. The same, but different. Please don't go away, don't leave me, Brad."

Brad listens to what she's describing, not knowing what to make of it, wishing it made sense so he could make it go away. "What…else? What was it?"

Janet closes her eyes, attempting to find the faded remains of the memory and finding it impossible to hold onto. One last trace flits before her before disappearing again, "Love." It takes her a minute to realize what she'd just said. Then she catches it, slowly bringing her hand to her mouth. Janet slowly looks up at him, her eyes wide and wet with tears. "Love?" She breathes curiously. "Love…" she confirms to herself. "Oh…" Janet sighs, trembling in his arms. "I'm dizzy. My chest hurts," she attempts to inject sense into this awkward episode, clutching at her heart with a soft moan.

He stares down at her, cupping her face in his hand, seeing someone totally other than his friend and lab-partner. It's as though it's finally occurred to him that they're male and female, boy and girl, almost-man and almost-woman. Janet closes her eyes, led by instinct, feeling down Brad's arms, trying to press their hands together. He struggles against her insistent attempts, trying to keep his hands free, finally holding her hands down to her sides by her wrists. He bends down and inelegantly kisses her on the mouth. Janet freezes up then jumps back! She stares at him, touching her lips, thunderstruck.

"What was that?"

Brad takes several steps back, guiltily looking at the floor, "Sorry, I shouldn't have…I just…"

Janet advances, backing him into the wall, repeating softly, "What was that?" Her genuine innocent curiosity is clear on her face.

"It's called a kiss. People do it when they…care for each other. You didn't… know that?"

Janet's eyes lose focus as she shakes her head, staring dreamily up at the ceiling, "I think I remember… something about touching hands, arms…I wish I could remember more." She comes 'back to Earth' with a growing smile. "Show me…your way again."

"What?!"

"Do it again."

After that, they went from best friends to going steady, surprising none of their classmates. They'd been chalked up as an inevitable couple from day one; the only thing that had been standing in their way had been each one's apparent lack of social savvy and sexual awareness. Now, although the word was that they still hadn't 'done the deed' Janet in particular found it increasingly hard to keep her hands to herself. It was as though any minute she wasn't on Brad's arm, or touching him in some way, was a minute wasted. Their junior year came along and he gave her his class ring, which she gave right back because it was ridiculously big for her. A few months later, Janet drove her mother and stepfather to distraction, agonizing over finding the perfect dress to wear for senior prom, no easy task when her eye for formalwear is tainted by conflicting cultures. The whole ordeal of shopping with her mother was perilous; she knew she was at risk of triggering a flashback in this setting. Just the touch of velvet was enough to temporarily spark a latent image. After that, her flashbacks were occurring less and less frequently, as she built a new, human life over the top of the tattered remains of her old one. Even the incidences themselves soon became long forgotten, a childish thing of the distant past. By the time Brad finished a marketing program from the local junior college she'd long since stopped trying to say "I love you" with her hands, exclusively in favor of the human way. One more instinct that was unlearned. Brad and Janet never questioned why Doctor Scott kept in touch with them; they accepted his continued "friendship" as perfectly normal. They never noticed how his eyes never strayed from Janet for too long, or when she stopped twitching nervously in his presence. Neither of them knew it, but Doctor Scott's experiment was a complete success. Not only would Janet be guaranteed not to seek out her "old life", she would almost certainly run from it if it was presented before her. She had become a perfect human specimen, undetectable from the real thing. Her childhood breeding as a castle servant reemerged in her adult life: her natural love of pleasing people paired well with her serious regard for tableside service, leading her to a rewarding waitressing job at the local restaurant. For all appearances, she was an ordinary, productive member of society. No one would suspect what she started out as.

Morning comes; Janet awakens after Brad had gone off to work, feeling the incredible urge to tell someone she was now a married woman. The trouble is, none of her friends would understand, she realizes with a frustrated pout, it wasn't exactly a typical 'wedding'.

"Mother," she whispers aloud, testing the idea. Running through the various possible ways it could go, Janet teeters between excitement and worry, optimism and realism. "I have to tell her." She goes through her mental address book again. A stray thought to her manager makes her remember she hadn't been to work in days. They probably thought she was dead.


Rrrring-rrrring, "Thank you for calling the Apricot Pit, this is Deb."

"Hi, it's Janet."

"Janet! Where have you been? Your regulars were all worried about you! We were starting to think something happened!"

Fiddling guiltily with the phone cord, she chews her bottom lip, "I've been…not myself lately; it was really bad. I couldn't come in like that. Sorry."

"Well, it's good that you're alive, and it's lucky we weren't short, but can you be in tomorrow?"

Tomorrow? Janet looks at the calendar. What would Riff-Raff and Magenta do all day? She'll work that out today, she decides, adding it to her to-do list. "Uh, sure, I'm feeling better, I'll be there at…9?"

"Don't be late. Glad you're still with us, in more ways than one."

Janet hangs up with a sigh of relief, that's one thing down. She grabs some clothes and pulls them on, absently. Pacing around the room, she begins rehearsing her conversation with her mother.

"Hi, Mom, sorry I haven't called in a while. I'm all right. This is going to sound like a strange question, but do you remember where we came from before we moved here? And, how many kids do you have?" Janet growls at herself, pulling her hands roughly through her hair. "She hung up!"

"Hi, Mommy, I'm alive. Did you ever suspect you were from another planet?" No good.

"Is this line clean?" Definitely not.

"Hi, Daddy, can you tell Mom that Brad and I got married last night?" Yeah, if she wanted to give them both a heart-attack. He might be an Earthling and no blood relative, but he's still been her dad for the past eight and a half years.

"Mother, you'll never believe who Brad and I ran into Monday night." She won't believe it because she probably doesn't remember.

"Do you have any tattoos?" Now where have I heard that before?

"Guess what; you know how Monday Brad proposed, well, last night we got married!" Right, brilliant, she thinks sarcastically.

"Doctor Scott hasn't come around lately, has he?" How would she explain that one?

"Tell me about my real father." Too teenager-y. But she might be onto something.

"Brad and I were…talking about getting married," at least she's telling the truth. "It got me wondering, how did you meet my father?" That might work…

It's still too early to call, so she goes to see if her siblings are up yet. Their door is hanging open, so she lets herself in. They're both still in bed, looking uncomfortably agitated.

"If this is all there is to do around here, I'm starting to miss the castle," Riff admits with a touch of irony. Magenta shuts her eyes tightly, and bangs the back of her head into the wall.

"I was actually thinking we should get out today. We've been quarantined for the past two days, I'm starting to feel stir-crazy myself," Janet says, opening her umbrella significantly, sliding on her sunglasses. "It's big enough for three, I think."

"I don't know how the Master could stand this, just sitting around all day. I vonder if Majors vould mind if I tidied up around here. This place is a pig-sty." Riff and Janet laugh at her compulsion to fall back on old habits. "At least then I'd feel like I was earning my keep. I feel…I feel…sick, I think."

Riff-Raff gets up, pacing the confines of their room. "I know what you mean; I hope we haven't caught some Earth virus."

"You're bored," Janet observes.

"Bored?" Magenta asks, as though it were an entirely new concept.

Janet nods, "Yes. You don't have anything to do. That's probably why you feel sick."

"Domestics don't get bored," Magenta counters.

"You're not a domestic anymore," Janet points out.

Riff-Raff and Magenta look at each other, then simultaneously turn and face Janet. "Then, vhat am I?" Magenta asks, mostly to herself. No one answers.

Her brother obviously decided to put off his identity crisis for another time, in favor of actually getting out and doing something. "Bored…What would the rest of the clan think of this? Let's get the hell out of here. Let's show this wretched planet who they're dealing with now," Riff snarls, inexplicably inspiring an affectionate response from his youngest sister. Janet glides across the room and kisses his cheek; her eyes alight with expectation and admiration, ready to follow her crafty big brother's lead once more. A thousand previous exploits vie for her recall; she can't wait to show them around her adopted home.

"Let's go," Janet agrees.

"Vait! How can ve go out and not get recognized for vhat ve are?"

"Well, they're not exactly on the hunt for us. Here, everyone just assumes that everyone around them is from Earth."

Riff-Raff wears a distasteful look, "That's a bit presumptuous, isn't it?"

"Kind of, but after finding out what they do to out-in-the-open 'visitors', I can see why most keep undercover," Janet explains. "If no one comes out and says there are non-Earthlings walking amongst them, what else are they supposed to think?"

Riff nods grudgingly, "Fair point."

The first thing they do is walk to Janet's apartment to get her car. It's there that it hits her how long she's been gone. She goes from room to room, doing a quick tidy-up. "I really should get out of Brad's hair. I have my own life to get back into; this whole week has been so cloudy. Like a dream or something," Janet ponders aloud. "I could have an extra key made for each of you, how would that sound?"

"Here? Are you sure there'd be room?" Riff asks.

"Well, it's smaller than Brad's place, but I really think he'd appreciate having the house to himself again. He might be getting used to all that's happened, but it probably feels like Transylvania Central. He's a human, humans like their space on their terms. We'll still be able to stay the night sometimes, but this whole business has really upset everyone's routine. I have a job, and I haven't even been in to work for days. People are starting to notice. It would beat being cooped up at Brad's house all day, wouldn't it?"

"That's true enough," Magenta allows, then turns to her brother, "Imagine, being allowed to come and go as ve please? Ve haven't been able to do that since ve came to Earth."

Janet is pleased that her siblings approve, and soon they're ready to go into town. They go back outside and she hops into her green '68 Impala she'd recently bought at the secondhand car lot. Turning the ignition over, it hums to life. She proudly shows off the convertible feature, then looks up for a reaction.

"How does it work?" Riff inquires, genuinely curious.

Feeling rather put on the spot, Janet acquires a lost, vacant expression for a moment. "Well, it runs on gasoline, which goes in here, and there's a big battery inside that brings the engine on…I really don't know much else." She puts the top back up and drums her nails against the steering wheel.

"Can you operate this thing?" He demands, looking suddenly hesitant to get in.

"Of course I can drive! Look," Janet snaps back defensively. She digs in her purse and shows him her license. "They give these to people when they learn to drive. It gets taken away if you can't. Trust me."

Exchanging a glance with Magenta, who shrugs indifferently, they get in the car. Riff-Raff sits up in the front passenger seat so he can keep an eye on Janet while Magenta sprawls lazily in the back. His fears are soon dismissed when they make it into town without anything going amiss. They parallel park on the main drag and take stock of the situation.

"The first thing you two need is some new clothes. I don't have a lot of extra money, but I'm sure we'll make do."

Magenta fumbles around in the black crochet shoulder bag she's carrying in her lap, and brings out a strand of familiar-looking pearls, along with a few other articles of jewelry. "Vill this help?"

Janet twists around in her seat and is shocked by what she sees. "Magenta, for gods' sakes, put that away! I…don't need to ask where you got those things. We can go to the jeweler's first. Unless you wanted to keep any of it?"

Magenta glowers at her hoard in disgust, "The Master's taste vas far too vulgar." She holds the pearls against her neck, "It vouldn't suit me at all."

Smiling with a sneer, Riff-Raff muses, "Just imagine what they'd think back home. The servants hawking the crown jewels for a little spending money."

"You two worked for him without pay for ten years," Janet justifies, "He owes you at least this much. They looked better on the Queen, anyway." They get out of the car and crowd under the umbrella, walking down the sidewalk towards the end of the block.

"You never saw the Queen, Janus," Riff snorts.

"I did too! At some ball or other, I must've been 12. That was the same day that…you two became official." Janet stops abruptly, spins on her heel and faces her brother with a knowing expression, giving him Magenta's usual eyebrow flick. The three of them look at each other, as though inwardly falling into step together, then simultaneously breaking into identical smirks. Janet slides on her sunglasses and they're off again.

Stepping into the jeweler's, they put the umbrella down, though all three of them stay close together. Janet approaches one of the glass-topped counters, attracting the attention of on older woman in a dark suit and tinted glasses. "Hello, dear, what can I help you with today?"

"I was wondering if you would be interested in buying something from me," Janet announces, trying not to look guilty. She lays the pearl necklace on the counter with a fidgeting hand, snapping her face into a tight smile.

The woman looks at them through a glass, examining them carefully. She looks up at the three of them and observes in an undertone, "You got out, I see. Good." Reaching out towards Janet, she slips her sunglasses off. "And you're the other one," she breathes. "And what's this, then? Severance pay?" Not waiting for an answer, she takes the necklace to the back and locks it up. She opens a cash drawer and starts counting out bills. She lays 300 on the counter. "There. Besides a down payment on a new life, I'll throw in my word not to ask questions or tell tales. Good luck."

Money in hand, the three of them set out to do some serious shopping. Once inside the shop, Riff-Raff and Magenta remain cautiously inseparable, even to the point of sharing a fitting room. Trusting their little sister's judgment pertaining to "human clothes", they obediently try on anything she hands them, though they don't even attempt to conceal their opinions. The sight of his sister in a baby-pink skirt reduces Riff to breathless cackles.

"Are you sure about this?" Magenta asks later on, now modeling a pair of bell-bottomed jeans with an air of uncertainty, "Ve don't…I couldn't…I'm not high society enough to cross-dress."

"It's not cross-dressing.," Janet explains, "Everyone wears those: men, women, kids, everyone."

Riff-Raff is inspecting her, slowly circling around her, he's never seen his sister in anything like this before. "You look taller." He glances up at her face, but then looks back down at her legs, like he can't take his eyes off of them. Magenta takes his hands and brings them around her waist, making them meet at her bottom with a flirty grin. He purses his lips in approval, looking her up and down. Before they can make a spectacle of themselves, Janet clears her throat.

"Not here," she whispers, indicating that they're in public.

They go back into the fitting room, and after a few minutes, Janet hears Magenta shrieking with laughter. Riff-Raff's voice comes out, murderously: "I'm not wearing this."

"Which one?" Janet asks.

"This…blue…thing, with the frilly cuffs."

"Oh, that's a leisure suit. A lot of people wear them," Janet verifies.

"A lot of people are either blind or unbelievably stupid. I want it burned. That's all I will say on the matter."

Riff-Raff and Magenta continue shopping; in the end; in addition to the jeans, Magenta is dressed in a deep purple silk blouse and black angora sweater. She's also eyeing up a calf-length blood-red coat. Riff-Raff is wearing brown corduroys, a long-sleeve green polo, and a navy blue sport coat. It's clear that they'd never worn such heavy clothes before, and they're squirming under the bulk.

"You'll get used to it, besides, it'll be winter any day now," Janet assures them. "Just wait till we're knee-deep in snow. You look great, both of you."

They wear some of their new clothes out and carry the rest. They crowd under the umbrella again and head back to the car. Just as they get to the end of the sidewalk, their paths are crossed by Ralph and Betty Hapshatt. Janet spots them and calls out to them.

"Hi, Ralph! Hi, Betty! What are you up to?"

The two newlyweds have to do a double-take and get a closer look at the strange woman who's addressing them.

"Who…?" Betty flounders, peering at her with apprehension.

Taking off her sunglasses, Janet smiles brightly at her friends, "It's me, it's Janet."

Ralph takes a step back, pulling Betty along with him, "Janet…what happened to you?"

Protectively, Riff-Raff takes her arm; Janet looks stricken by the abruptness of the question. "Oh, this? It's…hereditary, some kind of…skin condition, you know. Sensitivity to light. Just sort of…popped up."

Betty isn't satisfied, "Who are these…" she whispers, "people?" She points 'discreetly' at Riff and Magenta.

"Her family," Riff-Raff answers. "We were separated, and we've recently found each other again."

"Janet, really?" Betty demands.

"Her name is--" Riff begins with a snarl, but Janet steps on his foot.

"Yes, it's true," Janet says, much louder, hoping to drown out her brother's outburst.

Ralph and Betty look between the three of them, wearing false polite smiles.

"Oh, Betty, look at the time. We really have to go or we'll be late for the…thing. S-see you around."

As they push past Janet and her siblings, Betty turns to Ralph: "What happened to her, Ralph? She was fine at the wedding, now she's hanging around with the Addams Family."

"Probably joined a cult. I don't think you should call her anymore."

"Oh, god, no, I don't think so either."

Magenta whips around, shouting back at them, "Vell, she doesn't vant to talk to you…two-faced jackals, either!"

The drive home is passed in total silence. They get back to Brad's house, Janet goes into his room, taking off her sunglasses and leaving the lights off. She curls up in his closet and cries. Over the edge of his laundry hamper is her shredded half-slip, she rubs the abused fabric between her fingers as she moans her despair. They fade in intensity to hiccupping sobs as her mood changes from betrayed to confusion and isolation. It is then that she recalls Rocky, in a similar state in his tank. Lonely, frightened, probably wishing he'd never been born. A guilty grin warms her as she thinks of her own unique method of comforting the poor creature. With a wistful stray thought, Janet wishes he could be here to return the favor. After a while, her conscious thought is taken off the hook, and for over an hour she merely stares quietly out into the darkness.

The front door slams, waking Janet abruptly. She hears indistinct voices in the front room, Riff and Magenta must be describing the events of the day. She soon hears footsteps coming towards her hiding-place. Brad walks in, leaving the lights off, and crouches down in the closet, too.

"Janet…" he sighs sympathetically, tracing her tear-stained face and frown with a look of deliberate curiosity.

Her heart skips a beat; whether he knows it or not, he's using Transylvanian touchspeak. Responding in kind, she forms her hands into claws, gesturing angrily at herself. Brad brings her hands down, shakes his head, drawing a hand down her cheek. Janet shakes her head, squeezing her eyes shut with a sharp sob. Then he does it with both hands, and she melts.

"Oh, Brad…"

He gathers her into his arms, she can feel him shaking with closely tempered fury at his former friend. He pulls away slightly, tracing his thumb in an upward motion against the curve of her mouth; she obediently smiles for him, taking his hands between hers with a punctuated squeeze. "Mine," she translates softly. Brad frees his hands gently to repeat the gesture with a smile.

"Mine."