A/N: Thank you so much to everyone who reviewed or followed the story or favorited it or sent me a pm. You people make writing this even more pleasant than usual. Special thanks to fakinginstyle, who became an amazing friend and who always supports my crazy ideas.

I hope everyone enjoy this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it (honestly, it was the hardest one to write so far, but God, Amy is a cupcake, I find myself laughing while writing her – but I'm normal, I swear). This is the biggest and Reamiest (?) chapter so far, so YAY I guess.

As always, English is not my first language and those characters are not mine.

CHAPTER FOUR:

As soon as Amy entered Reagan's truck, she regretted it.

The car smelled like the purple haired girl and the blonde one felt like drowning in that scent while listening to the unfamiliar musical notes blasting out of the stereo. Everything in the car was just so Reagan that Amy's brain suddenly became fuzzy and she struggled to think about anything – anything – beyond the girl driving and the fact that they were alone.

I told you college was all about new experiences – Karma's voice echoed somewhere inside her mind and Amy once again flushed at the implicit suggestion.

Fuck.

"So, hmm." She distantly listened as Reagan started saying something, looking at Amy with those sober eyes before turning her attention back at the road. Amy watched as the girl's lips moved and her foggy brain registered that the older girl was saying something and she was not listening a word of it because Karma's words kept dancing around her brain cells.

Shit.

"I'm sorry?" she sputtered all of sudden, "I didn't listen." Amy admitted sheepishly as Reagan considered her with a curved eyebrow and an almost unnoticeable smirk in the corner of her lips.

Amy had noticed just how full and pouty Reagan's lips were since she laid her eyes on the girl. But after Karma's suggestion and the planted image in Amy's head, those lips suddenly looked even more appealing.

"I asked if you're hungry," Reagan repeated with a laughing tone in her voice, her eyes on the road, "There's a pizza place not so far that has the best pizza you'll ever have."

"Sure," she agreed nodding her head and letting the silence fall between them, being only disturbed by the instrumental song playing softly. "And for future reference, I am always hungry," she added in what she hoped was a laid-back voice, glancing in Reagan's direction and seeing the girl biting back a smile.

"So, basically you're saying I asked you a dumb question." the brunette girl stated amusingly after some thought.

Amy retorted in a serious but still mischievous manner, "I wouldn't say dumb, but maybe naïve?"

Reagan full-on grinned at her playfulness. "Well, I am sorry, I won't make that mistake again," she said with a feigned remorse, her eyes twinkling bouncily as they found Amy's green ones staring back at her.

"I'll forgive you this time," she attempted to say in a serious tone, but she was smiling.

"You have a big heart," Reagan flashed Amy a teasing smirk.

"Yeah, but it's not as big as my stomach." She said before thinking and, as Reagan cocked her head in confusion, Amy waved her off and laughed nervously at her own dorkiness. "Sorry, it sounded funny in my head." She shrugged and felt her cheeks reddening, because God, she was such a freak sometimes.

Reagan, however, only chuckled openly at her, making Amy's cheeks burn even more.

"So tell me something about yourself," the blonde girl ended up saying in hopes to change the subject.

"Is this that part in the date in which we play Twenty One Questions?" Reagan's eyebrows rose knowingly, her familiar and somewhat flirtatious smirk already on place.

What? Date?

Amy's heart stopped for half a second, but Reagan kept driving as if she had not said anything worthy of note. "I happen to love Twenty One Questions," Amy eventually admitted, "It certainly beats me trying to make small talk." She laughed in a self-depreciating way, softly but yet sarcastic.

"I realized that's not your strongest suit," Reagan said with a cheeky grin, glancing at Amy with from the corner of her eyes.

"You offend me," Amy mumbled with a mock affronted look, making Reagan's grin widen. Amy felt herself beaming at the image of the other girl smiling so naturally; she had such an infectious smile, "So ask away."

Amy usually liked to ask first – and, honestly, she wanted to know many things about the purple haired girl. Possibly too many things she had no business thinking about, but she was thinking about them anyways – or maybe 'obsessing over them' was a better, more accurate expression. However, Amy did not have the courage to ask anything and she just preferred to let the other girl set their pace.

Reagan made a thoughtful face before asking, "What's your favorite color?" Amy could not resist and rolled her eyes at Reagan, not letting any doubts about her own opinion concerning the question. "What? What's the matter?"

"That's your first question, really?" Amy narrowed her eyes, her tone close to 'stop bullshitting me'. Reagan just shrugged. "You're coddling me."

"No, no. I really want to know." Reagan's voice had a laughing quality, but still held a note of sincerity. Amy felt like rolling her eyes again, but the way the chocolate eyes stared gently at her green ones made Amy believe her.

"It's purple." She answered simply, her mind wondering briefly where that response had come from or if it had anything to do with the little fact that her mind had been flooded with purple hair in the last 24 hours. "Describe yourself in one word." She requested softly, choosing to move on with the game instead of focusing in her own fuzzy thoughts.

"I'm sorry? That is sooo not a question. You're breaking the rules." Reagan informed her somewhat serious, but the slight curl of her lips made Amy see the other girl was making fun of her.

"What rules?" her voice was filled with all the feigned astonishment she could managed, "There are no rules in Twenty One Questions."

Reagan laughed throatily, unknowingly sending an odd and unfamiliar shiver through Amy's body, "I hate to be the one to break this to you, but there are rules."

Amy half pouted, "There are not."

"There are!"

"Not!" She replied childishly, making the other girl glare at her half disapprovingly and half joyfully. "Fine," Amy gave in and, not really succeeding in hide her smile, she rearranged her phrase: "What word would you use to describe yourself?"

Once again, the purple haired girl laughed. "Sneaky," she said, "I like it." She winked at Amy, missing the blush in the girl's cheek as she turned her attention to the road. She paused, thinking for a few seconds before answering slowly, "Hmmm, obstinate. I think."

"You mean stubborn, right?" she asked because Reagan surely struck her as a stubborn person (rules at Twenty One Questions, really?) and because, somehow, she knew it would make the girl laugh and Amy was becoming quite addicted to the sound of it.

Chuckling, Reagan spoke in a fake and slightly superior tone, "It's not your time to ask anything! Stop cheating." Turning her eyes to the blonde girl, she smiled wickedly, "What word you'd use to describe yourself?"

Amy's eyes grow wide. "Can I plead the fifth on that one?"

"No, you cannot." She affirmed still smirking cheekily, "No wonder you love this game, you don't know how to play it."

"I just don't know how to answer it." She admitted with a soft tone, shrugging. Reagan made a non-committal throaty noise of disagreement, letting the girl know she was not allowing Amy to not answer and the blonde girl sighed defeated, "I don't know how to describe myself, honestly. I am such a boring person."

She didn't actually think she was boring. She frankly enjoyed her own crazy thoughts and found herself occasionally laughing at herself. But she also enjoyed documentaries and everyone told her that she was crazy for that, because the genre was supposedly boring. Granted she could not understand how someone could not see how powerfully enriching was to learn about people fighting illegal dolphin-hunting practices in Japan ("The Cove"), or how infuriating was that case in Central Park in which black young men were arrested with no evidence whatsoever just because society was screwed up and racist like that ("Central Park Five"). But that's how people's mind seemed to work – even if she could not understand them.

So she would probably look like someone boring to most people too. "And awkward…" she added almost soundlessly as an afterthought.

Amy felt her own chest aching as she thought about how the other girl saw her. She didn't want Reagan to think she was boring. She wanted the purple haired girl to keep laughing and looking at her with those warm and shinning eyes that made Amy feel like she was worthy of the other girl's attention. She ordinarily did not care so much about how interesting she appeared, but there was just something in Reagan that made Amy tremendously conscious of every little way she could make a fool of herself.

Unaware of Amy's thoughts, Reagan put her hand in the girl's knee in a comfort gesture, "You're so not boring," she said softly and ran her hand through the girl's leg, seemingly not thinking about how intimate the movement could be. After a pause, she completed with a wink, "Awkward maybe."

Usually, Amy would have the perfect little sarcastic comeback for it, but the soft hand on her leg, just above her knee, disarmed Amy completely. "Thank you," she said shyly with some difficulty to breath as all the cells in her body seemed more focused on the nerves in her leg.

When Reagan's hand let go of Amy's leg and returned to the steering wheel, the younger girl felt a pang of hollowness. She itched to touch the other's girl again.

"What word would you use to describe me?" she eventually asked, breaking the silence, even if they both appeared content in it.

Reagan, however, didn't seem to listen to her as she exclaimed, "Shit!"

Amy looked at the other girl frowning. "No, sorry," Reagan said quickly, shaking her head, "I just remembered I forgot to feed my cat this morning. The poor thing must be starving!" She pouted at the thought. "Would you mind going to my place to feed him? The place I told you about is just down this block. We can stop there and pick a pizza and take with us to my place?" she looked at Amy expectantly, biting her bottom lip and making it more reddish than before (and fuck, she needed to stop looking at Reagan's lips).

"Sure." She shrugged to appear indifferent, but inside she was considering if it was wise to be alone with Reagan...

The raven-haired girl smiled grateful and stopped the car in front of the pizza place. She took her seat belt slowly and touched Amy's hand with one of hers ever so slightly, only to get the girl's attention. "And intriguing," she said out of nowhere, her word catching Amy off guard. The younger girl lift her eyes to stare at Reagan's brown ones and the sincerity glistening in them made her stomach somersaulted. "The word I would use to describe you is intriguing," she explained with a soft tone just before getting out of the car and entering the pizzeria.

They continued playing Twenty One Questions when they arrived in Reagan's place – a small apartment not very far from the party in a nice enough neighborhood. They questioned one another through two pizzas and several beers, not even caring about stopping the game at the twenty-first question. They spent four whole hours sitting at the floor in Reagan's living room, asking questions about whatever came to their minds. At first, they were hesitant around each other and asked generic questions – "What are your hobbies?", "Favorite movie?", "Favorite band?", "OTP?" (Amy didn't have any idea what the fuck was an OTP, to Reagan's eternal surprise), "Favorite food?" (Reagan's favorite was chocolate and Amy had rolled her eyes at the girl saying chocolate was not a food), "Favorite character?" (which became "Favorite character played by Tatiana Maslany?" and Reagan could not choose only one clone while Amy's favorite was Cosima) etc. As the hours went by, their talking got more personal when they started to explain every preference, giving themselves away as they enumerated the reasons behind every answer; they were suddenly not satisfied anymore in only knowing favorites, they expected reasons that would reveal the other's personality little by little until they had an idea about who they were as a whole.

As they kept talking about everything and anything, Amy noticed how the older girl got very excited about the silliest things and, when she did, she would touch Amy's leg or arm, making the girl's stomach flutter annoyingly but still so pleasantly with every touch (she felt like inquiry the girl unstoppably so Reagan would keep touching her). She also realized Reagan's touch wasn't the only thing that had that effect on her. But also Reagan's piercing stare – the way her eyes would held the green ones and as if she knew something Amy didn't. And Reagan's smile, that constant and sassy smirk that made Reagan's face lighten up…

They eventually asked each other about their childhood and family. Amy did not think her own life was that interesting, but she would listen to Reagan telling about hers the entire night if she could. Reagan was the middle child of four other siblings and they were all scattered through the country studying. Only Brian was in the same city and, no, they were not particularly close – she explained vaguely that they were too different. Her favorite sibling was her younger sister, the only one who lived with her parents since she was still in High School. "We talk with each other every day, we're very similar," she said with an endearing expression in her face that made Amy's belly flipped-flopped, "She was the first one I told about being gay. At the time she was six or seven and her only worry was that she would still be my favorite girl, because that was how I called her."

Amy chuckled at the cute little story, watching Reagan as she swallowed the last of her beer. "So," the brunette girl started offhandedly, after a minute of silence, "when did you knew you were gay?"

Amy's smile disappeared the instant her brain registered the question. She knew she had given cues about her sexual orientation the first day she met Reagan, but she was not expectation the other girl to remember or question her about it. Besides, it was not a topic she usually discussed with anyone.

Reagan sensed her uneasiness. "I'm sorry," she said, "Sore subject?"

Amy shrugged. It was not a sore subject exactly; it just wasn't something she knew how to address. In the last years, she had wanted to discuss her sexuality many times, but she never felt like she had the opportunity to do that openly, so she learned how to keep that to herself. She closed it off inside of her and kept living her life. Then Reagan came and questioned her about it and, for the first time in a while, she felt that forgotten part of herself wanting to get out of its hidden corner.

"I'm sorry. I assumed it wouldn't be seeing as yesterday…" Reagan kept saying, visibly uncomfortable by Amy's lack of reaction.

"I knew when I fell in love with my best friend." Amy said quickly without a conscious authorization of her brain. She surprised herself with her own boldness. She had never said those words aloud. A huge weight seemed to be lifted from her shoulders and she felt like breathing had never been that easy.

Reagan stared soundlessly at her for a minute, and then she let her eyebrow curve with curiosity, "The redhead? The one from the party?"

"Karma, yes." She nodded, "That's her name." She explained with a sigh, looking at her own hands in her lap and pursing her lips in thought. "I never told her. I know Karma better than I know myself. She didn't feel the same, so why I would put myself through that?" she shrugged, "That's what I told myself at the time anyways. But honestly I think I was just being a coward." She looked at Reagan intently, hoping or maybe wondering if the girl understood her. She wanted to be finally understood.

Reagan leaned a little forward, her knee touching Amy's faintly. There was something so very comforting and sympathetic in the way she looked at Amy, "Do you still have feelings for her?"

"No." she dismissed the question with a wave, "God, no. Not like that." She denied again because God. That seemed such a long time ago she wondered if it had actually happen to her.

Reagan smiled at her answer, the corner of her lips lifting ever so slightly. Amy's stomach once again seemed to manifest itself under that intense gaze. "And you know, you asked three questions," the blonde commented offhandedly, looking away when Reagan's stare became too much.

"No, I didn't." the purple haired girl denied in a rushed voice, "Those were just follow-up questions, they don't count," she said with a mock authoritarianism.

"Follow-up questions?" Amy chuckled at the girl's nerve, "Is this one of the rules you mentioned before? Do you make them up as you go?" she tried to arch her eyebrow just like Reagan did, but knew she probably made a poor job.

"Maybe," the girl winked and Amy smiled even bigger, shaking her head in a fake disapprove. "I have one more follow-up question." She told Amy with a soft and faltering tone. Her eyes pleaded silently for Amy to answer it and Amy was fucked because she could just not say no to that face.

"Go ahead," she said with a roll of her eyes and Reagan smiled appreciatively at her, "as long as I get to make them myself later." It was her turn to wink and she smiled too when she saw Reagan actually blushing in response.

"So, hm." She started a little unsure, "Do your friend know you're a lesbian?"

"Karma? No." Amy's eyes actually widened at the idea. Reagan raised her eyebrow at her, as if asking why that reaction. "Nobody knows, except you," she explained in a whisper and it was her turn to blush at the intense look Reagan sent her. She then added in a sarcastic and playful manner, "And a girl I kissed once. She probably concluded I was a lesbian too."

Reagan's mouth actually opened as if she was going to ask one more of her follow-up questions, but Amy interrupted her, "It's my turn, I have one question and three follow-up questions," she said, eager to change the subject. She hated being in the spotlight.

Reagan all but groaned at the prospect of answering so many questions. Amy smiled, thinking about just how she could put in words what she wanted to know. She probed slowly, "So tell me about you and Tatiana."

Okay. Not exactly subtle about that, but hey. At least she had put the matter out there.

Amy watched as Reagan's body got a little tense and her eyes studied Amy as if deciding if she was trustworthy. "What's to tell?" Reagan mumbled eventually, biting her own bottom lip, "We are kind going through a rough patch right now, if you couldn't tell by her ignoring my phone calls." She said sarcastically, with a self-deprecating laugh. It was obvious to Amy how badass Reagan wanted to look by acting indifferent and how she unknowingly revealed herself through her own genuine eyes. "We have practically an on-again, off-again relationship. I don't even know where we are after this morning…" Reagan trailed off.

Wait. What? What had happened that morning? Were they off? What did that mean if they were?

Amy held her breath and waited for Reagan to say more, but the girl did not elaborate.

Reagan flicked her gaze back at Amy, uncertainty shining in those warm pools of chocolate, "Can I ask you something?"

Amy wanted to playfully remind the girl it was still not her turn to ask, but the vulnerability she unexpectedly recognized in Reagan's eyes made Amy think better of it. She nodded slowly as Reagan said, "I probably shouldn't be telling you that, but whatever. I feel I can trust you and you're her roommate. You're bound to find out." Her voice was rushed and filled with anxiety, and Amy touched the girl's hand hoping the gesture would calm Reagan.

It did. The older girl took a deep breath and kept going with her speech, "Tat had some serious drug problems some time ago. Pretty heavy stuff, like heroin and meth… She got better, but it was fucked up for a while. We lost one year of college because of that and… I don't know." she sighed a little exasperated as her hand ran though her locks as she looked away from Amy, "I am afraid she is falling in her bad habits again." No shit, Sherlock. "And honestly I am just too tired to deal with this again…"

The way she said. That tone was of someone who was almost giving up and who was too frustrated to feel guilty about it. It was heartbreaking.

"She's fucking brilliant, the smartest girl I ever met. But…" Reagan just shrugged, obviously without words to describe just how tired she was. "Well. Can you keep an eye on her? Just to see if she is taking drugs again." She pleaded with her forehead frowned in anxiety.

Amy's eyes softened at the sight and she could only smile, nodding, "Yes, of course."

"Thank you." Reagan said relieved, surprisingly taking Amy's hand that was touching hers between both of her own hands, tightening it with fondness. "Really, thank you". She repeated with the prettiest and saddest smile Amy had ever seen, so honest and raw that it was almost watery – it made Amy's chest hurt in an unfamiliar way seeing Reagan like that. So vulnerable and yet so beautiful as she stared at Amy's eyes longingly.

Amy's felt her whole body aching for something as she gazed back in those slightly watery eyes. She didn't know what that something was, but her body seemed to know as her face got close to Reagan's. Their foreheads touched briefly and for one flipping second Amy could swear Reagan was going to withdraw herself – and the thought of not having the other girl close was so damn painful that Amy's hand touched Reagan's neck, feeling the soft hair at the back of it with the tips of her fingers, and pulled the girl in. Amy sighed tremulously as she felt Reagan sucking in a hard breath. And with a courage she didn't know where it had come from, Amy kissed her.

At first it was just a soft press of lips, Amy's ones trembling across Reagan's pouty ones, pressing ever so gently once… twice. Then, hesitantly and softly, she nibbled Reagan's bottom lip and, feeling the girl's shivering under her hand and lips, she nibbled a little harder, reveled in its softness and plumpness. The somersaults in her stomach were suddenly back and she felt a smoldering ache to just pull the girl against her and kiss away all the sadness, all the things that made her vulnerable before her eyes. She sighed and dared to feel Reagan's taste with the tip of her tongue, which made the girl withdraw for a brief moment gasping for air – and Amy's mind wondered again if she was going to pull away from her.

Instead, Reagan's hands found her waist and lure her closer, gripping her hip strongly. She opened her mouth as she angled her head to give Amy better access and the blonde girl felt like smiling as she finally – finally – took possession of Reagan's mouth, sucking her tongue and massaging it. The feeling was different from anything she had ever felt while kissing guys. It was something that overpowered her whole body, every cell of it and burned it up. Her blood seemed on fire as it ran through her veins urgently; rushing vividly through parts of her body that always seemed numb. Every inch of her seemed to come alive as Reagan's hand trailed her way up to her face, taking control of the kiss as her tongue swept against Amy's repeatedly, unwillingly to give back control as she attempted to devour Amy's mouth, her hands cradling the girl's jaw – as if trying to prevent the girl from stopping kissing her.

Which was a silly concern.

Amy didn't want to stop; she never wanted to stop kissing Reagan.

A/N: Oh no, Amy. Kissing someone with a girlfriend. What are you thinking...? Silly girl (although I must confess I would probably kiss Reagan too if given the chance, sorry) (not sorry at all)

I feel kind insecure after publishing any chapter and more so after this one, so I'd appreciate any – and I really mean any – feedback.

(And in case someone is wondering, I'm working on updating "My Favorite Place" in the next few days too)