A/N: So I wrote this right after watching the latest episode. Everyone knows I was a bit of a Reamy shipper (cough JFM cough) but even I know they screwed Reagan's character up and messed up what could have been a really good triangle. And now, Sabrina… I wasn't going to post this because I get that a lot of people don't like her. But someone sent me a post from Surrealist Punk and (when I got done nodding in agreement), I figured maybe this was worth posting after all. It's the start of how they could not manage to mess up another new character. If you like it and want more (cause for once I know where it's going), let me know.

Fuck.

Just… no… not just fuck.

Too simple.

Fuck a duck. Fuck a truck (like the one that just ran you over.) Fuck in the muck (where you've been getting down and dirty lately) and fuck your luck (can it be bad and good all at once?)

(You think of her lips) (of Amy's lips) (still on yours)

(Yes. Yes, it can)

Fuckking fuckity fuck fuck fuck.

This, you think, was not the plan. This, you know is not even remotely close to the plan. This is in a different galaxy, a different universe… fuck it… this is in an entirely different space-time continuum from the fucking plan.

And you've got no idea what to do about it. And no amount of 'think, Sabrina, think' is going to help and not just because you can't think of anything but Amy's lips and Amy's hands and Amy's...

Fuck.

Did you say that already?

Fuck. (Just in case you didn't.)

The plan (the real one) (the good one) (the one that wouldn't cost you everything and hurt the one person you would never want to) was simple. You'd learned something from all those summer stories Amy told you about Karma's plans, about all her ill-fated preteen schemes.

The best plans, you know, are the simple plans (and no, not the band) (though they weren't bad) (just not good) and the simple plans… well…

They don't involve kissing.

If there's one thing you've learned is that kissing isn't simple. Not ever. You've known that since those months before camp, when you kissed your first boy and your mother (old and crotchety and so lost and old) freaked the fuck out and shipped you off for the summer, right into Bunk 5 and smack into the middle of Karmy.

And if mom could only see you now.

(Old bitch might finally kick)

But that's neither here nor there nor anywhere (except Amy's lips) (which feel like they're fucking everywhere) (not that you're complaining.) If kissing isn't simple any time, well… it's even less simple when it's kissing another girl (for the first time) and even less simple than that when it's kissing another girl for the first time because you know that your competition for her and Captain Charismaless are both lurking in the bushes.

Kissing is never simple, but it's so much more not simple when you do it for all the wrong reasons, like as a lip-locking middle finger to the greedy bitch and the not-even-worth-a-fuckboy watching from the shrubbery.

And when you do kiss that girl for the first time (when you are kissing that girl for the first time), when you press your lips to hers and expect it to last five, six seconds tops?

(you passed six seconds about a minute ago)

(you think)

(time passes differently here) (slower) (so much slower)

Or when you expect it to be like kissing your sister (if you had one) or when you expect her to barely react?

(but she does) (kissing you back and kissing you hard and there's… you know.. tongue)

When you expect it'll give you the perfect excuse to stop 'exploring' your sexuality cause, you know, you tried it and it wasn't for you and all that?

(cause yeah, exploring her mouth just fucking screams that it isn't for you)

When you expect all that and instead you find yourself with your hands on her hips and your tongue chasing after hers and a moan in your throat you didn't know you were capable of making?

Yup… that seals it.

So not the plan.

The plan really was simple. Simple and painless (except maybe for Karma) (like that was a problem) and, most importantly, it was a victimless crime.

You wanted to get closer to Amy, to be friends somewhere in the neighborhood of her and Karma, to not always be the third wheel (fourth if you count Lauren, but four wheeling is normal, so fuck that.) You never (never) wanted to hurt her or play games with her heart or lead her on in any way.

You wanted to be like her and Karma, not be her and Karma.

So, maybe your plan involved a tiny… fib (lie is such a harsh word) (accurate, but harsh) and maybe it was taking advantage of the one weak spot in the Karmy armor (again, like that was a problem) and maybe it was a little immature and a little ridiculous and a little deceitful and a little desperate.

Wait…

Fuck.

You are Karma.

The simple plan? Tell Amy you were beginning to question. Tell her you had dreams. Tell her your boyfriend is great and you really feel something for him, but you're not sure if that something is what it's supposed to be.

(And now that you think about it, as much as you can think with Amy's lips on yours, you're pretty sure that would've been worlds better than 'I made him up'.)

(You really hope that doesn't come back to haunt you.)

(But really… how could it?)

So… the plan.

(it would be so much easier to focus without Amy's hands creeping up your back and her hair tickling your cheek)

(focusing is highly overrated)

Tell Amy you're questioning and you're not sure and you need someone who's been there and done that and gone on the lesbian summer tour bus to help you through it.

Check and check and checkmate, Karma.

See? Simple. Easy. Harmless. In the end, after you and Amy had bonded so tightly over the one thing she and Karma could never share (cause Karma's straight)

(but then so were you) (until Amy's lips) (and hips) (and tongue)

(fuck… that tongue)

(you'd like to)

(shit)

In the end, when the bond between you and Amy was so tight that not even Karma and her naturally curly curls (and thank God she'd found the wonder of straighteners) (no pun intended) could get between you two, then you could suddenly realize.

You were straight after all. You even had a speech, had it all planned out.

"It was touch and go there, for a bit," you'd say. "I had my doubts for a while. I really thought…"

(you didn't think, you realize now and that's like the entire problem)

"I guess all my exploring and talking," you'd say (cause that's what it was supposed to be) (talking.) "I guess that was all I needed to do. It was just a phase."

(Except that speech was just a draft, a work in progress cause, really, there had to be a better way to put it.) (A phase?) (Who would say that?) (So fucking mean.) (Shit like that could scar someone.)

And then Amy would hug you and smile at you and be glad she could help you and your bodn would be cemented and she could go back to finding reasons not to date Felix and you could back to your regularly scheduled boyfriending with… with… with…

Fuck.

Um…

Hang on.

It'll come to you.

(probably come faster without Amy's tongue flicking against your teeth)

Roy! That's it. Roy. Good old Roy. Roy, Roy, Roy.

Roy with his hard and pointy hips and his lips like sandpaper and his tongue that always tasted vaguely of cinnamon and not the good and fresh kind. The cheap kind, the kind you buy in little bottles in the grocery store with one of like three hundred different generic brand names

(Roy)

on it and it never tastes quite right and it always makes you sneeze.

Roy.

Yup. Yeah. Sure. That was the plan. Tell Amy you're straight but thanks for the help and then you could go back to Roy and have the best friend and the boyfriend and everything would be right with the world. See? A simple plan. A good plan. A perfectly harmless plan.

What could possibly go wrong?

Felix fucking Turner. That's what could go wrong.

Felix fucking Turner and his fucking Cyrano behind the tree with her stupid guitar and her stupid sweet song (that he totally couldn't sing) (seriously, is there anything that boy can do besides fucking up perfectly good same sex couples?) (God, it's like he's gonna make a career out of it.)

You saw them but they didn't see you and so you stopped, dead in your tracks, across the street and just watched. You were on your way to see Amy, to talk to her about your latest dream.

(And for once, you'd actually had one) (an actual dream about an actual girl) (and that's what you get for watching Carol right before bed) (cause straight or gay or whatever… it's Cate.)

You'd reached the corner across the way and there they were, on the lawn outside Amy's window, both with guitars and Karma with her hands on Felix's collar, straightening it (like he could get anymore straight) and brushing her hands down his sleeves and tugging on the hem of his shirt and fuck all, was she his friend or his fucking mother

(and yeah, you knew enough about Felix to feel bad about thinking that)

"I don't know, Karma," you heard him say. "I mean, really… grand gesture? That's not exactly me."

Of course it wasn't him, it was her. The whole thing screamed Karma and reeked of Karma and basically stood up and waved and said 'hi, I'm Karma.'

"Trust me," she said. "This is the perfect plan. I told you, all we need to do is get Amy to focus on her other crush and…"

And you didn't hear the rest cause all you heard was 'other crush' and your brain filled with a thousand questions like did Karma really think Amy was crushing on Felix? And who's this other crush? And if Amy was crushing on Felix why didn't she just do something about it? And who's this other crush? And why does Karma always think she knows better, especially for Amy, and why does she always have to stick her nose in and why do all her plans just seem like recycled rom-com plots?

And who's this other crush?

(You weren't sure then why you kept coming back to that?)

(You've got a slightly better idea now.)

Felix tuned up and Karma hid behind the tree and they were set to go. You didn't know (and neither did they) that Amy wasn't even home, that she'd been called away by Lauren, on emergency 'I think I'm starting to like Booker and that has to stop business, and so he (she) (they) launched right in and you watched from a distance as the boy-wonder sang (butchered) (slaughtered) (fucking killed and not in the good way) Karma's sweet song, right up until Farrah opened the window and said Amy wasn't there and shooed him away.

But not without promising to call as soon as Amy got home.

You watched as he and Karma packed up to go and you saw Amy walking along, headed home, before they saw Amy, but they saw you and, really, how could they miss you, what with your running across the street calling out Amy's name and waving like an over caffeinated twelve year old.

That, you know now was the point of no return. It wasn't the moment you decided to lie to Amy in the first place, it wasn't the moment you erased what's his name from existence

(Roy)

It wasn't the moment you pinned that stupid 'questioning' button to your shirt at school, it wasn't even the kiss.

It was that moment. When you hustled across the street and saw Karma's face as you did, with that look on it, that 'oh, fuck no, nope, no way, nuh-uh, this is not gonna happen' look, like Amy was hers, like there was that bond and it wasn't just that no one could have a bond like that, it was that no one could have any bond with Amy, not unless it was Karma approved (Felix) or non-threatening (Felix) (again) or one that Karma could convince Amy to cut loose at a moment's notice (yeah, Felix) (always fucking Felix.)

If you hadn't seen that look, you might have thought twice before you did it. Before you kissed her. Or, maybe, two thoughts or two hundred, it wouldn't have mattered cause she was still Amy and those words

(who's the other crush)

were still rattling round in your head and doing something to you that you couldn't (or wouldn't) explain (though, come on, suddenly wanting to rip Felix and that other crush's heads off, that had to tell you something) and maybe that all would've been too fucking much and you would have kissed her anyway, look or not.

But it's so much easier to blame it on Karma.

So, in the end (which is right about the time Amy's lips separate from yours and Amy says… something… something you don't hear cause you can't cause woah… and then races up the walk and into her house and behind the locked front door and the locked bedroom door and the locked bathroom door and you stand there, on the sidewalk, with your heart hammering in your chest and your hands shaking at your sides and all you can hear is the soft rustling in the background as Felix tries to drag Karma away before she does something (else) stupid), you know.

It might be easier to blame it on Karma. And if she hadn't been there maybe you would've just gone along with your simple (and harmless) (and painless) (and simple) plan and no one would have gotten hurt and the worst thing to come out of it would've been that Karma had to learn to share.

It would be easier to think that. Simpler.

But as you look up at Amy's house, at Amy's window, and you swear you see a shadow flick quickly away from the curtains before the light goes out?

You know there's not a single simple thing about it.

Not anymore.