Rocky Horror does not belong to me; it belongs to the eternally awesome Richard O' Brien.

This story is rated T (at least for now; I may change it to M later on down the road. Maybe.)

Hello, and welcome to a little something I started in the heat of my Rocky Horror rediscovery over the last few days. This isn't necessarily based around the movie. I took more inspiration for the visuals (such as the floorshow outfits mentioned below) from the European tour of the stage musical that started in 2008. Without exaggeration, this is one of my favorite iterations of Rocky Horror, along with the movie.

So what is this? Simply put, it's a 100-themes post-main-story fic covering the relationship between Rocky and Columbia. Why those two? Firstly, they both go through a lot because of Frank. Second, they both have a connection to Eddie, who serves as a thread between them here. Third, they don't interact that much during the show/movie, so I feel like there's a lot of potential there (same for why I focus on Rocky so much. He's a blank slate; so much can be done with him).

Just a heads-up for those of you not too familiar with the stage version: it's mostly covered in the movie, but there are a few differences. The main difference is that Rocky speaks and, while still innocent, is more aware of what's going on. There's a couple of others, namely an usherette (who's usually the actress playing Magenta) sings "Science Fiction, Double Feature" to open and close the show, and there's no dinner scene.

Also, I'm sorry if the POVs and switching-between-names-and-pronouns get confusing. Same goes for the many asides; that's how I write, but I'll work on it.

But you're here for the story, not to listen to me ramble on. Enjoy!

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

I. Introduction

The ray had only knocked her out, but it stung like a bitch.

When she came to, she found herself in her room, still wearing her floor show outfit (most of it anyway; her boa and heels had carelessly been tossed on a nearby chair). Her head spun as she sat up and swung her feet to the floor. She squeezed her eyes shut, waiting until she stopped feeling like a ship knocked around on a stormy ocean. Once it had passed, she headed into her tiny bathroom, crowded with makeup, hair supplies, and more than a few pairs of ripped fishnets (for when she was just hanging around; she had to put on a fresh pair for last night).

For a moment, she stared at herself, decked out in her dress, dark red and black, not much more than a bra and poofy skirt. It was a shame it was only for floorshows – it actually wasn't a bad dress – but she didn't come in here to admire her outfit. Right there, dead center of her chest, was where the laser hit her, a red, semi-star-shaped sunburn (or rather, laser burn).

She knew it was coming, had rehearsed her part just like the others. Wasn't that how it always went? Of course, the first time, before Eddie, her outburst had gone a little differently, just general stuff about how Frank chewed people up and spat them out. (She also hadn't been drowning her grief in a bottle of Jack at the time.) It seemed melodramatic and ridiculous, but she enjoyed hamming it up before getting into floorshow mode. Performing always gave her such a rush.

When Eddie came along, her lines started to change. She wasn't entirely sure what led to it – probably around the time Frank first took Eddie into his room alone, slamming the door in her face when he saw her following. He never actually said anything to her, but his body language changed. He'd insist Eddie sit near him at dinner, have his arm around him, hide the motorcycle keys so Eddie would have to stay the night.

"Are we over?"

That's what she asked when she finally confronted him. He shrugged, that little smirk on his lips, and replied, "We could be, if you don't feel like sharing anymore." "I never wanted to share Eddie with you." "Then why keep bringing him around?"

She didn't have an answer. This first time Eddie came with a delivery, she was the one who insisted he stay. She was the one who kept calling Eddie over, whether it was just a delivery or help provide entertainment at a party.

But she remembered the brief look of shock on their faces the first time "You ditched me for Eddie!" came out of her mouth. Afterward, Frank, who hated deviations from the script, gushed about her performance, telling her to add more if she liked.

She talked to Eddie about it, but he assured her that he didn't care about Frank. He was only going along with it because Frank had promised something to help "better his position," something that would get him out of Denton, and he was going to take her with him no matter what. That was enough for her. She couldn't think of anything else she could add to her lines. She could only wait until she and Eddie were out of the castle for good, tearing up the road on his motorcycle.

At least, until Frank started getting ideas. He didn't want to just find a man anymore, he wanted to make one…

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

He was expecting it. He'd been warned it would sting, and that it would leave a mark – his creator had explained the plan to him as they lay in bed after "the ultimate test" – but he barely felt a thing, which was why Riff Raff had to shoot as long as he did. Frank proudly grinned and said that was thanks to the muscles.

Now he wondered what he was going to do with himself. True, he had his exercises to keep up with, and Frank promised to teach him all about humans and other important things. What about after that? He was only about a day old, and even he knew they couldn't spend all their time together. What else was he supposed to do when his creator wasn't around? He certainly didn't want to be lonely, but he didn't know enough about the outside world to leave the castle (that and Frank wouldn't let him out of his sight).

Who could he talk to?

The servants? No, too scary.

Janet? Maybe, but he had no idea where she was.

Frank didn't care if he talked, but Rocky also didn't want to talk to him all the time. Who else was there?

Columbia.

Who?

The redhead with the squeaky voice. Remember? "He's okay."

Oh, right. Her. He remembered her. She didn't scare him like the servants did, but she didn't seem nice like Janet. Had they ever spoken before?

Wait. He danced with her after his creation, trying to escape his creator. She seemed just as excited as everyone else about him.

He then remembered calling Eddie "ugly," and she wasn't happy. He could apologize for that, right? He could make it up to her, somehow.

Where did that idea even come from, anyway?

From the half of your brain that came out of the ugly guy in the freezer.

He didn't have long to linger on his thoughts, as Frank had slipped his fingers into one of the black leather straps crossing his chest and pulled him backward. "Come on," he whispered in a husky voice, sending goosebumps over Rocky's arms and legs, "I'm tired of these outfits. Aren't you?"

He could say "No," but he had a feeling that wouldn't end well. Instead, he let Frank lead him over to the bed and gently push him down.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Thanks for reading. See you next chapter!

Seriously, go check out the European tour. There's no official cast recording, but there are a few versions of it on YouTube. The narration's in German, but the songs and the rest of the dialogue are in English. (Also, their version of Riff Raff is the best I've ever heard!)