Don't hate me. Please?

The words kept pinballing around inside Lauren's head, no matter how much she didn't want them to.

I thought you were Amy

Lauren knew it was a slip of the tongue, that it was just Karma's mouth running a bit ahead of her brain (so, basically, Karma's usual). She knew that Karma wasn't with her as some sort of stand in for Amy.

She knew that. Right?

Right.

Except…

Well, except for the fact that Lauren didn't really have the first fucking clue why Karma was with her. Hell, she didn't even have much of an idea why she was with Karma.

Other than, you know, kisses. Lots and lots of really (really) good kisses. Kisses and those hands, the ones Karma had run along her back and put on her hips and held in her own. The hands that frequently found their way to Lauren's ass. So, kisses and those hands and, really, so many other little things.

Like the way Karma felt when Lauren held her close, the way the redhead fit so perfectly in her embrace and the height difference was just enough. Or the way Karma blushed when Lauren sent her a particularly dirty text. It started on her neck and crept upwards, slowly, as she read and the longer (and dirtier) the message, the faster and higher the color rose along Karma's skin until her cheeks matched her hair and she bit her lip and took short quick breaths that made her chest heave in that way…

Nope. Lauren didn't have a clue why she was with Karma. Not a one.

Fuck. Just.. Lauren was so fucking screwed and she knew it and, right up until those words started bouncing round her brain, she really didn't mind it.

But there were those words…

I thought you were Amy

Lauren watched out the window, always one eye on Reagan, as the small crowd gathered near Mrs. Powers' van. One of them, the Miata driver, she thought, was talking animatedly on his cell and gesturing toward the van as if whoever was on the other end of the line could see.

"I think they're calling the cops," Karma said. She was still holding tight to Lauren's hand, her thumb ghosting small circles against the blonde's skin. "Mrs. P. is a crotchety old bitty," she said. "I wouldn't be surprised if she's refusing to move now just to piss people off."

"Great," Lauren muttered. The longer they sat there, the worse her anxiety got. She wanted to drive away, to pull out with tires squealing and burn rubber around Mrs. P. and Mr. Miata and Reagan and the rest.

Getting out of there meant to getting to Karma's house and that meant getting to all those things she planned to tell Karma to do (and probably a few Karma might suggest too which Lauren was surprisingly OK with). But, more importantly, getting out of there meant getting away from Reagan.

Lauren watched as Amy's girlfriend leaned against the Miata. It was dumb fucking luck that they'd managed to avoid being spotted this long. Every moment Mrs. P. kept them sitting there was one moment closer to Reagan inevitably turning around and spotting them. And from there…

Well, from there, there was only one thing left.

Amy.

And that, Lauren knew, just wouldn't do.

"I know you don't want to get out," she said to Karma, squeezing the other girl's hand in what she hoped was an affectionate-slash-reassuring gesture (she was woefully out of practice with both). "But Reagan's not blind. And the longer we sit here, the better the chances she's 'not blind' enough to see us."

"I know," Karma said and there was a hint of fear and resignation in her voice, neither of which Lauren could really blame her for. "But I'm not leaving."

Lauren let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding and shook her head. Karma. she was quickly discovering, was as stubborn as she was.

"OK," she said, perfectly willing to find some compromise. "How about hiding? Maybe ducking down?"

The words weren't even fully out before Lauren could practically hear the smirk forming on Karma's face. "You want me," she said, "to put my head down there? Damn, you weren't kidding about being bossy, were you?"

Lauren wanted (really wanted) to fire off a witty retort but since most of her brain was now busy imagining exactly what Karma was suggesting…

Fuck. Just… fuck.

"OK," Lauren said. "Let me rephrase. How about something else? Hopping in the back where no one can see…" She trailed off as she heard the words coming out of her mouth and the giggle from the passenger seat. "Don't," she said. "Just… don't."

Karma didn't. She didn't make the obvious backseat joke or even come out with one of the dozen or so other easy innuendos that tripped through her mind. Instead, she leaned over, placing one soft and (relatively) chaste kiss on Lauren's cheek.

"You're adorable when you're flustered," she said. "How did I never notice that before."

"You were too wrapped up in playing lesbian with my sister."

The words slip from Lauren's lips before she can stop them and then it's too late. They're out there and she can tell from the way Karma's hand goes stiff around hers that now they're both getting pinballed.

"I'm sorry," she said and add apologizing to Karma Ashcroft to the list of things Lauren Cooper didn't do before today. "I didn't mean…" She stopped herself because, honestly, she didn't even know what she didn't mean and she wasn't really even sure what she did.

But, apparently, Karma was.

"Yeah," Karma said, "you meant it. And it's OK."

"No," Lauren said emphatically. "It's not. It's really not."

Karma's grip softened again and she brought their entwined hands closer to her. "All things considered," she said. "It's fine. I'm just surprised it didn't come up before now."

Lauren risked losing sight of Reagan as her head snapped around to look at Karma. "What?"

Karma didn't look back at her, she just stared out the window but she didn't let go of Lauren's hand (and the tiny blonde figured that had to count for something). "Me and Amy," she said simply. "More specifically, me and, even more specifically, the fact that until that night at Shane's, you hated me."

"I didn't hate you," Lauren said but the words sounded all wrong, too automatic and too simple and too pat and too obvious.

"Lauren, it's -"

"Stop!" Lauren yelled, her voice so loud she had to glance back out the window to make sure she hadn't just shot off a giant signal flare.

Reagan! Over here! Yoo hoo! Reagan!

She knew what Karma was about to say and that just wouldn't do (Lauren was sensing something of a pattern). "I didn't mean to yell," she said, "I just… I just couldn't hear you say it was OK. Because it wasn't and it's not and you can't think I really hated you."

"I can't?" Karma turned in her seat to look at Lauren. "Why can't I? You hated me from the moment you met me. And you weren't exactly Amy's biggest fan either."

Lauren drummed her fingers on the wheel and wondered if getting caught right then might just suck less. "I never hated you," she said. "Or Amy. It wasn't… I didn't hate you. I hated you and her."

Karma considered this for a moment and then… "Wait. What?"

Lauren dropped her hand from the wheel to her lap, fingers splayed against her leg. "I had a friend back in Dallas," she said. "Her name was Trish and I loved that girl. She was the moon to my sun, the salt to my pepper…"

"The Batman to your Robin when you were out having fun?" Karma finished, a twinge of shock in her voice. "You remember that?"

Lauren smiled and nodded. "What can I say?" she asked. "It was catchy."

Catchy enough that she found herself humming it at the oddest times for the next few weeks, weeks she now recognized as the moments when the thought of Karma as an actual and (somewhat) interesting person started to form.

"Trish was my Amy," she said. "We met in fourth grade and did everything together. She was the only person in Dallas I trusted enough to tell her I was Intersex."

Karma's thumb slid across Lauren's knuckles and the blonde smiled.

"I needed what Trish gave me. Her loyalty. Her unwavering support. Her heart." Lauren stared down at her lap and refused to cry the tears she didn't think she deserved. "There was nothing she wouldn't have done for me or me for her."

She glanced up as the flashing lights lit up her rear view. The cops had arrived.

"Problem was… well… the problem was me," Lauren said. "I had everything anyone could have wanted."

"But it wasn't enough," Karma said softly, "was it?"

Lauren shook her head. "When we got to high school, there was an opening on the school's social committee for a Freshman rep. I ran, unopposed, and got the spot." She leaned back in her seat, letting her eyes shut, the blue and red flashes splashing against her lids. "It was my first taste of the world outside of Trish."

Karma knew the taste well. The hottie boy being interested. Super sexy secret affairs. Being the belle of the ball, even if it meant being the lesbian belle.

"I never intended to hurt Trish," Lauren said. "I never meant to. BUt she would've been content being salt and pepper forever, but that wasn't me. I needed to be paprika. Or cilantro." She laughed, shaking her head at her own ridiculous metaphor. "I needed to be popular. I needed the love of the crowd and not the love of the one."

Karma saw it all so clearly then. Lauren had never hated her or Amy. She hated them together because she saw it all on Amy's face every time she looked at Karma. There was nothing Amy wouldn't do for Karma, not length she wouldn't go to.

Let's be lesbians

"You thought I was going to be like you," Karma said. "You thought I'd hurt Amy and leave her behind like you did to Trish."

It wasn't a question and Lauren was surprised there was no anger behind it.

"Not intentionally," she said. "But… let's be real," she said, looking at Karma. "You and intention aren't always that well acquainted."

Karma couldn't really argue.

"A friendship like you and Amy or me and Trish," Lauren said, "it's a recipe for disaster. It's like walking into a room full of gunpowder with a lit match. Sometimes, most times, you're gonna walk back out just fine."

Most times.

But all it takes is one stray spark and then… fireworks.

"It was the day you two were elected Homecoming Queens. That was when I saw it," Lauren said. "The spark. When I was in the locker room and I heard you two talking about faking it."

Karma remembered.

Can't we just go back?

What if I don't want to?

If she'd thought about it that day (but why would she?) Karma probably would've seen it too, like Lauren did. The match was struck and the wind was blowing the powder up all around them and there was that spark, as plain as day.

Liam. Popularity. Being anything but so fucking ordinary.

It wasn't a spark. It was a lightning strike.

"You were trying to stop us," Karma said. "You were trying to stop us from repeating your history." Lauren said nothing, she just turned and stared into the flashing lights. "We thought you were trying to keep us in our 'place' and you were. But not because you were a bitch."

"Oh, I am a bitch," Lauren said. "Just not because of that."

"You were trying to protect us," Karma said. "Well, Amy mostly, but still…"

And that did it. That was the moment, the straw on the camel, the one line too far crossed.

Protecting Amy.

Lauren tugged her hand free of Karma's as the words settled in. That was what she'd tried to do except now, here, in this moment, she was doing the one thing she knew would hurt Amy more than anything.

"We can't do this," she said, almost not believing she was saying it. "I know she's with Reagan and I know she made her choice, but Amy would do anything for you. She'd die for you."

And that, Lauren knew, was exactly why finding out about this… whatever… she and Karma were?

It would kill Amy.

"Lauren," Karma reached for the other girl's hand. She didn't want to hurt Amy either but Amy had made her choice and that choice wasn't Karma.

Lauren shook her head even as Karma's hand clasped hers. "No," she said. "I can't. We can't. Doing this, like this, it's asking for trouble. It's lighting a book of fucking matches

"Lauren…"

The blonde clutched Karma's hand. "No, Karma. We both know that Reagan or no Reagan, Amy's got feelings for you. Maybe she buried them. Maybe she stuffed them down where she can't even feel them. But they're there."

"Lauren…"

Lauren shifted in her seat, tugging on Karma's hand until the other girl scooted closer. "We can't, Karma," she said as she pressed one soft (last) kiss to Karma's lips. "As much as we both want to, we need to stop this now, before it's -"

"Too late," Karma finished and Lauren nodded. Karma held her hand tightly but she couldn't make eye contact. "No," she said. "I mean... it's too late."

Lauren looked at her in confusion until Karma nodded toward the window and the blonde turned.

Reagan. Staring right at them and the look on her face was one of bewilderment mixed with confusion mixed with anger mixed with something Lauren couldn't identify but really it didn't matter.

The match was struck. All that was left now was the fireworks.