There were things Karma knew, things she wanted to know, and things she could have happily spent the rest of her fucking life being utterly clueless about.

The things she knew was a short and simple list. Water's wet. Her mother's a touch insane (and by a touch she meant, as Ash once put it, totes nuts). Liam is a fuckboy.

Amy is her life.

Karma knew that Amy was the greatest thing to ever happen to her (or that would ever happen to her), bar fucking none. She wasn't entirely sure how she'd somehow ended up with Amy in her life, like what benevolent spirit or merciful God(dess) had looked down upon teeny-tiny fetus Karma and said 'You shall have an Amy' but she knew if she ever found him or her or whatthefuckever she wold happily spend eternity thanking them in every way she knew how.

She also knew she could be a little overdramatic (clearly) but when it came to Amy and how much she loved her and how grateful she was to have the blonde in her life (and her heart and her fucking soul and yes, just a little overdramatic), Karma was convinced there was no such thing as over anything.

The things she could have spent the rest of time knowing nothing about? That list was even shorter and considerably less sweet. It was, in a word, Maisie. If Karma could have found a way, even if it still meant Amy marrying her, but Karma never had to see her, hear her, or be in her presence again, well Karma would have jumped at it.

Or so she thought. But that weekend taught Karma one very simple lesson. What she thought was so very, very often so fucking wrong. She was the lesbian (or bi or Amysexual or who the fuck cares) Jon Snow.

You know nothing, Karma Ashcroft.

The things she wanted to know… that list was long and varied but every single thing on it had one common (and not very surprising) denominator. Amy.

Karma knew what it was like to kiss Amy and she thought about it a lot. Most of the time at times when she shouldn't have been thinking of that, like when other people's lips were on hers or other people's hands were touching her and all she could think of was Amy's lips and all she could do was wonder how she had ever managed to talk about how soft Liam's lips were with a straight face. Karma knew what it was like but she wanted to know what it was like to kiss her and not when she drunk or trying to turn on some ridiculous fuckboy. She wanted to know what it was like to kiss Amy when it was just for her. Just for them.

She knew what it was like to be wrapped up in Amy's arms (the ones that made her feel safer than any others) but she wanted to know what it was like to be held in them. Reagan knew that and so did Maisie and there were few things (OK, more than a few) Karma hated them both for more than that.

Most of all, Karma knew what it was like to love Amy. She was pretty sure she knew that better than anyone. She'd done it longer and better (though, maybe, that part was debatable) than anyone except Amy's mother. And that love was a different love than her love but there was still one thing Farrah (and Reagan and Maisie) did that Karma wanted to do, more than anything.

Karma knew what it was like to love Amy. She wanted to know what it was like to say it. Out loud and in the light and to her.

She didn't know she already had.

It was all so… unfair, really. Karma wanted to know what she'd done, what crime had she committed (probably, her mother would say, in one of her past lives) that warranted the punishment (because that's exactly what it was) of having Amy in her life but not being able to have her. She figured it had to be something big, something huge. Maybe a genocide or a religious persecution or mixing solids and plaids in one outfit.

She was kidding. Sort of.

Karma knew that she probably wasn't being punished for some past life (or current one) transgression and that, really, the only reason she couldn't have Amy was… well… her.

I love you Karma.

If you love something, set it free.

You can tell me that kiss meant something.

She'd had her chances, her opportunities, and those were just the biggies. Those were the 'Moments' with a capital 'M' and those didn't count every day in between. Those didn't include the hundreds of thousands of days they'd been in each other's lives and she'd never once made a move, never once even tried. Karma knew if she'd put half as much effort into being honest with Amy (and herself) as she had into chasing Liam, that fucking rock would be on some other girl's finger.

Karma knew it. She just didn't like to think about it but, that morning, it was all she could think about it. And that had everything to do with Amy and proximity and touch and Karma knew she needed a shower. She needed the heat and the steam to clear her mind and to hide the redness under her eyes (it was hot water that did that, right? Or was it cold? Fuck, she could never remember but since she was sobbing silently before she'd even made it under the spray it probably didn't matter).

She didn't really need the shower. What she needed, she couldn't have. She knew that.

Such a Jon fucking Snow.

Karma knew all this and wanted to know all that but Amy… well… Amy wanted (and, really, needed) to know why the fuck Karma had said all of that.

I promise. I promise to love you until the day I die but you will never know.

Yeah. That. All the other stuff too, but especially that.

Really, it wasn't even the why she'd said it. Amy had some ideas on that score and so, apparently, did Lauren.

"It's classic fucking Karma and you know it," Lauren said (yelled, really) and Amy quickly adjusted the volume on Karma's laptop speakers. The redhead was in the shower, not another country. "She saw the ring, right? And then she said it all? That's when she confessed her long hidden love and how miserable she's been without you?"

Amy nodded. "She saw it in the cab on the way to the club," she said. Lauren's face on the screen was tanned and it was the most rested she could remember seeing her sister in years. Clearly, her semester abroad was doing her some good and Amy was regretting not finding a way to go with her, more by the minute. "And then she got totally shitfaced and we came back here and she was miserable and then we went to sleep and she woke up and said it. So, I mean, she was drunk but you remember what Felix said about drunks -"

"And Felix would know," Lauren snapped. "Because, really, the person we should all be taking lessons from on drunk behavior is the teenage alcoholic." She glared at Amy (and made Amy very glad they were thousands of miles apart). "Especially since some of us are inclined to find any fucking excuse for things, as long as it fits our high school fantasies."

Karma's laptop was considerably smaller than Amy's and the tiny screen made Lauren's head look fucking huge and if Lauren hadn't been shredding her (and rightly so) right then, Amy probably would have laughed.

"That's not fair," Amy said, trying to fight back. Even though, really, she knew it was probably more than fair. "I didn't ask Karma to spill her guts in the middle of the night."

"Of course you didn't," Lauren said. She leaned back a bit (and her head shrunk a little) and Amy could see the dark night sky out the windows behind her. "You'd have much preferred it in the daylight. Probably in the airport when you got there. Or maybe in the cab on the way to the club?" Amy looked down and Lauren knew she'd hit a nerve. "And we all thought Karma was the one who believed in fairy tales."

"I know," Amy said. "I know…"

"Do you?" Lauren asked. The sass was still there (it was Lauren) but there was a level of concern Amy only rarely heard from her sister. "Do you really? Because if you really knew, I certainly don't think you'd be there. And you sure as hell wouldn't have told Maisie that you were -"

"I know, Lauren," Amy snapped, cutting her off. "I didn't call you to be reminded that I'm a lying bitch and my fianc… girlf...Maisie thinks I'm in Austin all alone."

The thought of it, of the lies she'd told and how easily Maisie had believed them, it fucking killed Amy. It reminded her too much of trying to keep Reagan and Karma apart at first (and not just a little of trying to keep the whole Liam fiasco quiet) and how those memories hadn't been enough to stop her, Amy wasn't quite sure. She knew it was wrong and horrible and a betrayal of both the women she loved most in the world.

But when you can say 'both the women you love' and know that you mean it, that you do love them both, honest and true (and yes, Amy saw the irony in that phrase right then), well, that was enough to make it easy for Amy to understand that old 'desperate times, desperate measures' chestnut. And, obviously, easy for her to lie to them both and super fucking hard to know which she felt more guilty for.

"Why did you call me then?" Lauren asked. "You didn't really call me to see if I'd give you the OK to chase after Karma again, right?"

Amy shook her head. She knew that was a lost cause. Lauren loved Maisie. She thought Maisie was good for Amy and sweet and kind and sane, which put her about six steps ahead of anyone else Amy had dated (Lauren had never never been able to see past the whole 'roofie' incident with Reagan). And while Lauren and Karma were more on the 'fre' part of 'frenemy' now than back in high school, this was still Karma.

When it came to Amy's heart (and it not breaking) Lauren had a very simple Karma policy.

No.

"I'm not trying to squash your dreams here," Lauren said (though they both knew she'd do exactly that if it meant protecting Amy). "I know how you feel about Karma." Amy almost hoped Lauren would explain it to her because sometimes even she didn't exactly understand it. "First loves are hard to get over."

"That why you took Theo back four times?" The words left Amy's mouth so fast she almost didn't hear them and she'd never wished so badly for a WiFi signal to drop as she did in that moment. "I'm sorry," she said quickly. "I didn't mean… I'm just… fuck…" Amy put her head in her hands and leaned her elbows on the desk in front of Karma's computer.

Lauren glared at her across the Internet for a moment and Amy was sure she was going to disconnect the call and leave her to fend for herself. "You're lucky I love you," Lauren finally said and Amy managed a small smile.

"I am," she said. "I know." She glanced back over her shoulder and listened for a moment, making sure she could still hear the sound of the shower running. "I don't know what to do," she said. "She said it, Lauren. Karma said it."

Amy had long ago convinced herself (and Karma had helped, a lot) that she would never hear it from her best friend. That no matter what happened, Karma would never say that to her, that no matter how many times the redhead waterboarded her heart or gave her hope or did something that anyone (especially anyone that was still in fucking love with her) would see as a total hint that that love wasn't totally unrequited, Karma would never say those words.

I love you. I love you like that.

And maybe she hadn't said those exact words and maybe Amy was no expert in love (see Karma, Reagan, and Karma again) but even she knew 'I promise to love you until the day I die' meant 'I love you like that.' Or, really, she would have known that. If it had been anyone else saying it.

"She said it, Lauren," Amy said to the screen. "She said exactly what I came here to find out and now that she's said it…" Her hand closed around the ring dangling from the chain around her neck. "I don't know what the fuck to do about it."

"I do," Lauren said but then she stopped herself. If Amy had been watching the screen instead of staring down at the ring (her ring even if she couldn't quite think of it that way yet) she would have seen the war going on all across her sister's face. It was the battle between speaking the truth (get your ass on the first plane back to California and Maisie right this fucking minute) and giving Amy the space to figure it out on her own.

Lauren sucked at giving space. But she was trying.

"I know what you're thinking," Amy said and Lauren didn't doubt that she did. "Karma saw the ring and that's why she said it. She was afraid she was losing me."

"Wouldn't be the first time," Lauren said. "But I know what you're thinking. If she was so afraid of losing you, why do the whole drunk bit? Why not say something the moment she saw it?"

Amy was thinking that. That, and…

"Why wait till the middle of the night?" Lauren continued. "Why wait until you were asleep and wouldn't hear a word?"

Amy nodded. She wanted to know why Karma had said it at all, but she needed to know why she'd said it then, why she'd chosen that moment to bare her soul. The desperation, the fear of losing Amy, the acting out, all of that was classic Karma.

Doing it when no one could see or hear (and by no one, Amy totally meant her), that was new, that was a plot twist Amy hadn't seen coming.

"Maybe that's why she got so drunk?" Amy suggested. "She needed the courage to tell the truth and the pukes and the passing out just kinda got in the way?"

Amy didn't need to see the look on Lauren's face to know what her sister thought of that and, really, she couldn't blame her. They'd been down this road before and Lauren had helped pick up the pieces one too many times. Amy knew what Lauren was afraid of and she was afraid of the same thing, that her want (need) for Karma to have meant it, for Karma to somehow, after all this time, really feel the same way for her that she…

Felt?

Feels?

Fuck.

This was the problem. This was the whole issue, right fucking here. Amy's want blinded her. Her need confused her. If Maisie was a bright summer day full of promise and hope and sunflowers, the Karma was the fucking fog off the moors that made everything disappear and swallowed Amy whole.

And, apparently, made her into a gothic poet.

This want, this need wasn't just bad or wrong or problematic. It was (and had been, so many times) a mistake that plunged Amy into darkness and misery and this time, if this was a this time (if she let it be) it might well be a disaster she couldn't come back from. And that wasn't fair to any of them, not to Karma, not to her, not to Maisie. Amy wanted Karma and she was convinced she always would but she didn't know if she could see past that want and see things as they really were.

"Tell me," she said. "Tell me what to do, Lauren, please?"

Lauren was quiet for a moment. "If you did what I told you to do, Amy, you'd be in California right now, fucking your fiancee until neither of you can walk," she said. "But then, you'd have a fiancee instead of a…" Lauren trailed off, hunting for the right word. "What you call someone who proposes to you and you tell them you'll have to think about it?"

Amy sighed. There wasn't a word for that, there were several. Confused. Heartbroken. Hopeful. A little angry. A lot worried.

She sighed again. There was a word for it.

Maisie.

Amy put her head in her hands again and pressed her fingers against her eyelids. She was pushing back against the tears she felt coming. "I fucked up, didn't I?" she asked. "I ruined everything."

"I don't know, Lauren said, honestly. "I do know Maisie's not going to wait forever for an answer and if she figures out you're with Karma…" She saw Amy's body shudder on the other end of the call. "But you haven't done anything unforgivable yet," Lauren said. "You haven't…"

Cheated. Amy knew the end of that sentence just as surely as she knew Lauren would never say the word. First loves are hard to get over. But when you agree to marry them and then they cheat on you with their new patrol partner, it's not hard anymore. It's next to fucking impossible.

"I'm not Theo," Amy said softly. "I won't do that. You know I won't. Nothing will happen, if anything even can happen, between me and Karma. Not until I tell Maisie."

As things turned out, Karma wasn't the only Jon Snow that weekend.

Lauren stared at her and Amy knew what was coming even before she said it. "If anything… what exactly is 'anything' Amy?" There was no anger or upset or frustration in Lauren's voice, just the simple question. "You and Karma being more than friends? You and Karma fucking so you can both just get it out of your systems and move the hell on?" Lauren took a deep breath and finished the job. "Is 'anything' the chance that maybe you've just been holding out for Karma all this time and didn't meant it when you told Maisie you loved her?"

"That's not fair," Amy snapped. "I meant it. I mean it. You know that."

Lauren shrugged. "Maybe," she said. "But if I'm Maisie and you expect me to know that? Then I've got one really big question. If you love me, then what the fuck are you still doing there?"

Amy stared at the screen and those tears broke through and she didn't know what to say. And neither did Karma, standing behind her, just out of sight in the bathroom door, a towel wrapped lightly around her, the water still running in the shower (ice fucking cold by then).

There were things Karma knew, things she wanted to know, and things she could have happily spent the rest of her fucking life being utterly clueless about. But none of them mattered, not even the tiniest bit. All that mattered was the answer to that question, Lauren's question.

Karma knew that.