Brad had just hung up when he heard some footsteps behind his back.

"Is it done? Are we finally going home?"

He spinned round to face a contrite Janet, who had swapped her corset and garters for the dress she was wearing when they entered the castle. Judging by the rash on her forehead and cheeks, she'd litteraly rubbed her face down to get rid of the makeup. He didn't want her to notice that he noticed the red patches, as he knew she'd always attached importance to her skin. With reason. She'd always had nice skin, he could grant her that. Thus he gazed down, so she wouldn't get more upset than she already was.

"The mechanic has three other service calls to make before us, so he won't be here till noon."

She tried to close the zen room's door behind her, but the lazy hinges were seemingly reluctant to cooperate. An exasperated sigh came out of her mouth.

"Great."

"I could say that I regret what I did, but that would be a lie," Brad said bluntly.

"Can we please discuss our respective hijinks later? Right now I just want to leave."

She crashed in a padded armchair nearby and rested her elbows on her lap while she buried her face in her palms.

"I wasn't talking about… you know. I don't regret saving him."

"Yeah," she nodded, her lips tightened. "Well that cheating definitely hurt more than the first one, I tell you."

"I-I don't understand. That wasn't chea…"

"Not in flesh, of course. Not that time. But you should have seen yourself, Brad…" She trailed off and dug her fingernails in the armrests. "You fought those two deranged aliens, one of whom was armed, as if your own life was at stake. You had that fire in your eyes which never lit up for me."

"Now you're being unfair. Didn't I try to rescue you as well when Frank N. Furter attacked you?"

"You did," she nodded again, a single tear running down her cheek. "That's not the point. But you don't get it, do you?"

"Because this is pure nonsense."

"I'm just speaking my truth."

A bitter taste invaded his mouth.

"My turn then! You know who actually cheated twice? You, Janet!"

"And I own it! There's only one person in denial here!"

They both exchanged an infuriated look and remained quiet for some time. The silence was soon broken by Frank, who barged in as he sang out :

"Ah, Brad, there you are! Is everything under control?"

Despite having narrowly escaped a gruesome death, the master of the place had somehow found enough time and energy to change clothes. He'd chosen a black satin set, his open shirt revealing the smooth flesh of his torso, which Brad's lips knew all too well. A matching thin choker perfected the ensemble, its silver pendant — a symbol Brad had never seen before— resting in the hollow of his neck, where his scent was the richest. The sight of their host transformed Janet into a pallid statue while Brad found himself inexplicably flushed.

"The mechanic's on his way," he uttered, his throat going achingly dry by the minute as he drank his fill of Frank's vision. "You?"

"Riff and Magenta are baptizing the penal amenities of the Furter abode as we speak." He stopped to cogitate for a few seconds, rolling his eyes to the ceiling. "Minus the torture room but that'll come soon enough, methinks."

"Well I'm glad they can't hurt you anymore."

Staying true to his unfathomable aura — both feral and refined — Frank ran his tongue on his teeth and scrunched his nose.

"Is that so?" he asked, flashing a crooked smile as he stretched his arm to push the door.

"I've tried before, the damn thing won't close." Janet finally said, staring at nothing.

"Neither do your legs, yet you don't make such a fuss about it," Frank darted with a petty smirk.

"You're disgusting!" Janet retorted before getting up vividly. It first looked like she was about to go wild and hit him, but she did nothing about it and stood still. Then she half-opened her lips as if to throw some well-chosen riposte, but the only sound that came out was a loud, unappetising gurgling, which turned into an even louder, more unappetising burp. "Y-you… Blaaaarghhhhh!" Before she could give them a piece of her mind, a yellowish mephitic stream spurted out of her mouth and flooded the wooden floor at her feet.

All in all, she'd outwitted Brad's expectations twice in a few seconds' span, which was at least twice as much as she ever did in four years of relationship. Under other circumstances, and had he not been struggling with his own retching (there was something almost demonic about that smell!), he probably would've paid tribute to the initiative.

"Back at you!" Frank said in a sing-song voice, an eyebrow raised. "Well, it's not the first effusion of bodily fluids I'm involved in, nor the last, but…ew. That's a mentally ill amount of vomit!"

"Janet?" Brad enquired as he approached her slowly. "Maybe you should lie down a little bit. Come, I'll take you to one of the bedrooms." He turned to Frank. "If you're ok with that, of course."

"Whatever. Chuck her on a mattress somewhere. I've no intention to repaint the walls in ochre anytime soon, so make sure she's got a basin, a bucket, a vase, or any container nearby!"

"Ugh…" Janet sighed laboriously as she steadied herself on the gueridon next to her. "Go. Fuck. Yourself."

"Janet!" Brad gasped, genuinely shocked since he'd never heard her say anything of the sort.

"Both of you." She added.

"Only if you watch, sugar." Frank taunted as he folded his arms on his chest. He looked down at the puke pond and frowned. "Magenta!" He waited a little bit and called again. "MAGENTA!"

Brad cleared his throat and said timidly :

"Erm, you put her in jail, remember? She plotted to kill you, it happened like an hour ago."

"Right." He paused and blinked twice. "Why that's unfortunate! Who's going to clean up this mess? Anyway, off you go!"

"Come on, Janet," Brad said, putting an arm around her waist while he walked her out of the room. Ashen and dazed, she wasn't in a fit state to protest. "That's right," he soothed, now guiding her to the elevator.

"Brad!" Frank exclaimed behind his back. "Once you're done with your ladylove (his emphasis made it sound like an insult), come and join me in the parlor, would you?"

The heat wave that swept through his body was so scorching he could almost hear his blood boil.

"Hum...sure. I mean, gladly, yes!" He stuttered, fearing that his clumsiness could be mistaken for a lack of enthusiasm. "I'll be there in a sec!"