by She's a Star
Summary:
It's been eleven years since the fateful incident at the Frankenstein place, and Brad and Janet have chosen to forget about it, instead opting to live a nauseatingly cliché and perfect life. That is, until their son Junior starts asking some interesting questions and secrets are revealed . . .Disclaimer:
The Rocky Horror Picture Show is not mine. I think I'd be a bit scared of myself if it was.Author's Note:
Ah, my first Rocky Horror fic. I didn't really mean to write this. It just kind of . . . happened.Er. Enjoy?
Brad and Janet Majors were, on the surface, the perfect couple and, quite frankly, perfect people in general. They lived in a lovely house on a lovely street in a lovely town and . . . well, this could go on and on, but I'm going to assume that you get the picture. They had recently celebrated their tenth anniversary, and were the proud, proud parents of their perfect son, Junior. (Well, Bradley Jr. if you wanted to get technical, but let's refrain from that, because really, I do have a story to tell here.)
However, the Majors also happened to have a secret; a rather disturbing secret, involving castles, transvestites, corsets, very blonde creations, feather boas, unintentional cannibalism, aliens, and fantastic musical numbers in a swimming pool that appears out of nowhere.
. . . What? I told you it was disturbing.
Understandably, the idea of anyone finding out about this secret was rather frightening to both of them. After all, Janet somehow doubted that she would be the Ms. Popular of the PTA if they knew about her past sexual exploitations with alien transvestites and very attractive Frankenstein-esque things. And Brad figured he wouldn't keep his position as the local children's league football team captain very long if people found out that he had once danced around in a corset, makeup, and heels. (And enjoyed it.)
And so they kept this little secret very quiet; Janet very carefully refrained from using the word 'touch' more than once consecutively in a sentence (or adding an 'a' onto the end), and when Brad lingered in front of lingerie store displays, he claimed that he was imagining the artfully pieced together bits of fabric on his wife. (Yes, she did look tiny; could you believe that she fit into a size large? Hahaha! Go figure!)
Until . . .
(Dun dun DUN!)
. . . Well, wasn't that dramatic?
Yes, anyway.
Until one fateful day when they were sitting at the dinner table, just finished with saying Grace.
"Aw," groaned Junior, pouting. "Meatloaf again?"
Brad and Janet exchanged very nervous glances.
"Yes," Janet said firmly. "Eat up, darling."
Junior pulled a face.
"Listen to your mother!" Brad instructed. "After all, son, your football game is coming up, and you can't clobber the other team on an empty stomach!"
Brad and Janet laughed in an excessively cheery sort of way usually found only on The Brady Bunch and accompanied with a nauseating 'Oh, Alice!'
"Fine," Junior capitulated, tentatively shoving a forkful of meatloaf into his mouth.
"So, Brad, dear," Janet said, smiling pleasantly, "How are things at work?"
"Wonderfully," Brad responded with a grin. "The company's nearly landed the deal we've been after for years - now all we have to do is win over their investors and things will be set!"
Janet nodded, smiled, and pretended to care, a skill that she had perfected over the years.
"And how was your day, darling?" Brad asked.
"Oh, it was very nice," Janet responded. "I bought the most adorable pair of oven mitts today - seventy percent off, can you believe it?!"
"That's great, honey!" Brad replied, inwardly marveling the way women could get so excited over things like kitchenware. He found bedroom-ware much more interesting.
. . . On Janet, of course.
Silence fell over them, interrupted only by the occasional light screech of a fork on a plate. After approximately a minute and a half, Brad looked up, grinned at his wife, and proclaimed, "Mmm! This is excellent!"
"Oh, thank you, dear," Janet said, smiling graciously. "I'm so glad you like it. I-"
"How come you guys never fight?"
This rather out of place and un-sitcom-esque inquiry was made by Junior, whose meatloaf was for the most part untouched as he stared at them in bewilderment.
Brad and Janet exchanged glances.
"Well, darling, it's because we don't want to fight," Janet replied gently. "Your father and I love each other very much."
"All of my friends' parents fight," Junior retorted. "Does that mean they don't love each other?"
"Not at all, sport!" Brad replied cheerily. "It just means that they don't agree on things the way your mom and I do!"
Brad and Janet smiled at one another in a very mushy-gushy sort of way, and while their gazes were averted, Junior pretended to throw up all over his dinner plate.
"But you never fight!" Junior protested after his mock-vomiting binge had ended. "Ever!"
Apparently deciding they were going about this the wrong way, Janet said, "That isn't true, dear! Why, remember, just last week we had that awful dispute over the color of the new bathroom towels--"
"That wasn't a fight," Junior protested. "Dad said, 'I like the pale blue best', and then you said, 'Really? I prefer the sky blue.' and then you said, 'How about the sea blue?' and Dad said, 'Sounds great!'"
"Sure that was a fight!" Brad protested. "We had a problem, we presented our opposite views, and then we--"
"Steve's mom threw a coffee mug at his dad's head," Junior announced flatly.
Brad and Janet looked at each other. Again.
"Bradley Majors, eat your meatloaf," Janet finally ordered.
Junior glared and then went back to staring at his food, occasionally rearranging it on his plate.
Brad and Janet both sighed in relief and went back to eating.
And then--
"What's transsexual?"
Janet spat her mouthful of water all over the table, and Brad began to choke on his meatloaf.
"Brad!" Janet said, immediately rising to slap her husband on the back a few times.
He took many rasping gasps, chugged down half a cup of water, and croaked, "I'm okay. I'm okay."
"Well . . . what is it?" Junior asked expectantly.
Brad and Janet exchanged yet another nervous glance. This was all right. Perfectly all right. There was no reason to suspect that their son somehow knew . . . anything. Of course, if he'd brought up something about 'sweet transvestites', then they may have a bit of a reason to worry.
"It's a planet," Brad said shortly.
Janet rolled her eyes and kicked him under the table.
"Er - I mean - where have you heard that?"
"One of the older guys at school was talking about it and laughing a lot," Junior said, then frowned. "I don't get it. What's so funny about a planet?"
"Big boy jokes, dear," Janet said uneasily.
"Stupid," Junior announced, and they sunk back into a comfortable silence.
Brad and Janet were just about to sigh with relief again when--
"Can we go to Transylvania?"
"NO!" Brad shouted abruptly.
Junior looked rather scared.
"Calm down!" Janet hissed sharply.
"Jeez," scoffed Junior. "Why are you guys acting so weird?"
"What do you mean?" Brad demanded at the same time Janet proclaimed, "We're not acting weird!"
Junior shrugged. "Whatever you say." He shoved a few more forkfuls of meatloaf into his mouth before asking, "Can I be excused?"
"Of course, darling," Janet said, sounding very relieved indeed. "Is your homework done?"
"Yup!" Junior said, sounding pleased with himself. "Now I'm going to go pretend to catch fish!"
Confusion etched in her features, Janet asked, "With what?"
"With the tights I found in Daddy's drawer!" Junior replied, grinning. "They look like they're made out of fish nets! It's funny."
He chuckled to himself, and Janet turned, veeeeeeeery slowly, to face her husband, who had begun to whistle innocently to himself.
"Brad," she said calmly.
He gave her a pained smile. "Yes, honey?"
"Fishnets?"
"Er. Well. Yes. You see, there's a very logical explanation for-"
"Fishnets?!" Janet repeated, louder this time.
"I wasn't going to wear them!" he proclaimed angrily.
Junior watched, rapt with interest and wondering why on earth his father would even think of wearing a pair of lady's stockings.
"We agreed that we were going to forget about that!" Janet hissed, pointedly jerking her head toward Junior.
"Oh!" Brad snapped defensively. "This coming from the woman who I walked in on doing the Time Warp last Tuesday!"
"There was a mouse on the floor!" she screeched defensively, rising from her seat. "I was trying to get away from it!"
"By driving it insane with the pelvic thrust?!?!" Brad retorted, standing to face her.
"Don't you start with me, Brad Majors! Don't you even start! I knew you didn't 'forget my size' when you bought me that huge silk teddy for my birthday!"
"I didn't forget your size!" Brad howled. "It got bigger in the wash!"
"Oh, right! I believe you, Brad! It got bigger in the wash - and I accidentally let Frank seduce me!"
"What?!" Brad exploded. "He said he hadn't done anything to you when he seduced me!"
Junior's eyes widened at the exact time that Brad seemed to realize what he had said. The couple simultaneously turned toward their son, looking pained.
"Isn't seducing, like, kissing and stuff?" Junior asked, wrinkling his nose. "And isn't Frank . . . a boy's name?"
Brad immediately went bright red and Janet turned on him.
"Oh, Brad!" she snapped crossly.
Brad looked rather furious with himself. "Oh . . . dammit!"
"I'm mad!" Janet announced, crossing her arms in front of her chest indignantly.
"Janet!" Brad yelled in frustration, pulling off his glasses in one swift movement. (And let me tell you, when the glasses come off, you know he's pissed.)
They paused, both hit with a sudden blast of deja vu. Was this by any chance familiar?
. . . Nah.
But let me tell you, the 'for you' and 'I love you too' will not be making an appearance.
"We agreed that that . . . experience wouldn't affect our future!" Janet accused.
"And it hasn't!" Brad returned angrily.
Janet scoffed at him. "Oh, right! I suppose you always had a secret adoration for womens' lingerie and just never told me!"
"Well, what if I did!?" Brad asked defiantly.
Janet gasped. "You were supposed to be perfect!"
"Look who's talking, Ms. I-Wanna-Be-Dirty!"
"That is all in the past!" Janet exclaimed, then grumbled nastily, "For you, anyway."
"Hey! You can't do that! You can't let a transvestite, his creation, and a bunch of aliens ruin our marriage!"
"Then maybe you should just leave it in the past! That's what I'm doing!"
"Hey! Don't make yourself all high and mighty!" Brad ordered. "I'm not the one who seriously considered naming Junior 'Rocky'!"
"After his father!" Janet cried with a sort of malignant triumph.
Brad gasped.
The narrator gasped.
The readers gasped.
Junior looked kind of bewildered at the silliness of his mother. After all, Dad's name wasn't Rocky!
"But . . ." Brad attempted to protest, staggering dramatically, "But . . . he has my glasses!"
He pointed at Junior who, true to his word, sported a pair of thick-framed spectacles.
"Oh yeah?!" Janet retorted, making her way over to her son and yanking the glasses off of his face, then bringing them over to Brad victoriously and sticking her finger through one of the empty frames. "Look! No glass!"
"Well, this just changes everything!" Brad shouted. "You know what, Janet?! You know what?! I do wear your lingerie - and I like it!"
"Yeah?!" Janet shrieked. "Well, I slept with your brother!"
"I slept with your sister!"
"I slept with your boss!"
"I slept with your hairdresser!"
"I slept with your gardener!"
"I slept with your husband's wife!"
Janet gasped, agonized, and collapsed back into her chair. "Oh, Brad! How could you?"
"I could, and I did!" Brad proclaimed fervently. "And dammit, Janet, I'll do it again!"
"Brad, you scoundrel!" she purred.
Junior stared.
"You bet it!" Brad retorted fiercely, approaching his wife, picking her up, and throwing her over his shoulder.
Junior blinked. Well, this wasn't good. Sure, he'd wanted them to fight, but he didn't want him to kill her!
. . . Unless there was lots of blood.
Then it would be really cool.
"Oh, Brad, you cad!" cried Janet.
"Can it, Janet!" Brad ordered.
Junior stared after them in fascination as his father bounded up the stairs, his mother still slung over his shoulder. He frowned as he heard a door slam shut, a few very dramatic shrieks from his mother (including something that sounded strangely like "you can wear my lingerie any time!") and lots of rustling and thumping.
His mother, Junior concluded, was definitely doomed.
Which was a shame, he supposed, but at least he'd have something really interesting to tell his friends at school on Monday.
Fin!