A/N: To help mentally prepare myself for the angst-a-palooza that the next couple of Just For Me chapters are going to be, I needed something a little more light and fluffy. This is a little New Year's Eve inspired Amy-Karma-Reagan fluff. Not that everybody gets along for the whole thing, but it's definitely more upbeat than my usual.

Amy blames Reagan's lips.

Not just her lips. There's her fingers too. And her tongue. And, basically, every part of her girlfriend's body. All the parts that can get Amy to make noises she never thought she would, to feel ways she didn't know she was capable of, to agree to things her brain would never go along with in a million years.

Things like this.

Things like spending New Year's Eve with Reagan.

And Karma.

Yup. Definitely the lips.

Two Weeks Until New Year's

Amy arrives at Reagan's apartment right after school. The door is unlocked, as she knew it would be, and she slips through, shutting it behind her.

The click of the lock coincides with Reagan's lips finding Amy's, her hips pressing into the younger girl's, driving her back against the door as Reagan slides her hands up Amy's back, fingers running against the sensitive skin along Amy's spine.

"Miss me?" Amy asks -moans- as she tips her head back against the door, giving her girlfriend's lips access to the wildly beating pulse point in her neck.

"You have no idea," Reagan murmurs against Amy's skin. She nips lightly at the blonde's flesh, sliding her tongue out to lick gently at the same spot. "I have got to stop working so much."

The holiday season, as it turned out, was a busy one for cater-waiters and DJs alike. This is is the first night since December started that Reagan hasn't had to work. And, if her girlfriend's schedule holds, Amy knows it will probably be the last.

She drops her bag, running her hands along Reagan's arms, squeezing as another nip - this time at the spot right behind her ear - brings out another moan. "Any news…" She trails off as Reagan's hands slide down her back, one of them slipping under the waistband of her jeans.

Reagan moans against Amy's neck as she realizes her girlfriend's not wearing underwear.

"Merry Christmas to me," she breathes, finding Amy's lips again.

Amy kisses her back, then pushes her way off the door, backing Reagan into the actual apartment. "Any news," she tries again, "on New Year's?"

Three different clubs have been pursuing Reagan for their New Year's Eve festivities. Sure, none of them were the big name clubs - which explained why they were still hiring so late in the game - but Amy knew any opportunity for her girlfriend was a good one.

Reagan spins Amy around and pressed her back against the door, the blonde's hands bracing against either side of the frame. "Yeah," Reagan says, sliding her arms around Amy's waist and tugging her shirt out of the way, tracing patterns along the bare skin of the younger girl's stomach. "I turned 'em all down."

Even as … distracted… as she is, Amy can't help the surprised "Really?" from blurting out. She manages to turn herself back around, both hands on Reagan's shoulders, creating just enough separation for her to look her girlfriend in the eyes. "Why?"

Reagan bites at her bottom lip as she stares at the floor. "I kind of wanted to talk to you about that," she says. "But that can wait.." she moves in on Amy again, but the blonde slips out of the way, stepping into the apartment.

"Reagan…" she says and Reagan knows that tone. It's usually reserved for moments when Amy's logical side wins out. When she knows Farrah's just downstairs or Lauren's in the next room, or when - on those few occasions they've gotten together - Reagan's gone a little too far in trying to get under Karma's skin.

"Shrimps…" Reagan whines, her bottom lip sticking out in an exaggerated pout, but Amy's having none of it. "Fine." Reagan takes her girlfriend's hand and leads her to the couch in the living room. Amy slips down onto her usual end, extending her legs out and onto Reagan's lap.

"I thought you were excited about DJ'ing New Year's?" Amy asks. "What happened?"

Reagan runs her hands along Amy's legs, absently moving up and down along the fabric of the other girl's jeans. Amy reaches over and takes one of her hands, but Reagan just holds it, clutching it in her own grip, not lacing their fingers together.

They've been together long enough for Amy to recognize the signs. The hand holding. The fidgeting. The full-court sexual press.

Reagan's nervous.

"Rea?" She asks again, a note of worry ringing out in her voice. "What's wrong?"

"You know how I'm going to San Antonio for Christmas?" Reagan asks and Amy nods. She was sad that they wouldn't really have their first Christmas together, but they were planning a special day / evening for Christmas Eve, before Reagan had to leave. "Well, I got to thinking and… it's bad enough we can't be together then. I don't want to miss New Year's too."

Reagan's voice is so quiet and she keeps staring at the floor, and Amy can swear she sees a little bit of a blush coloring her girlfriend's cheeks. It's the one thing she can't get used to. Reagan is always so confident, so sure of herself. She can spin in front of a packed club or serve party-goers at the most upscale events in the city without breaking a sweat.

But Amy still makes her nervous.

It's so fucking cute Amy can barely stand it.

"So you want to spend New Year's Eve together?" Amy asks. Reagan nods, but still doesn't look up from the floor. "I'd love to," Amy says. "You've already made this one of the best years of my life." And now she's sure Reagan's blushing. "Why would you think I wouldn't want to be with you that night?"

Reagan looks up then and Amy can see the worry - the fear - swirling in her eyes.

And she knows what Reagan's going to say before she says it.

"Karma."

Eight Days Before New Year's Eve

Karma and Amy have a tradition.

Well, really, Karma and Amy have a lot of traditions. That comes with the best friends for a decade territory.

And New Year's Eve is one of them.

In truth, it wasn't all that different than most of their others - at least the ones that involved hours of Netflix, way too many cookies (and the corresponding cookie guilt), ice cream, pizza, cuddling, and annoying anyone who wandered into their vicinity.

Essentially, every weekend in the Raudenfeld-Coooper or Ashcroft households.

By most people's standards, it wasn't much. Certainly not the New Year's Eve bash someone like Shane would throw, or the massive Squirkle-sponsored shindig Liam would be at.

But it was the way they liked it. Simple. Easy.

And after the last few months, simple and easy were exactly what Karma and Amy both craved.

Which is probably why it takes Amy almost a week to tell Karma about Reagan.

Karma arrives, as she always does, by barging right through Amy's bedroom door - at some un-Godly hour of the morning - and dropping herself down onto her best friend's bed.

Amy, not for the first time, offers up a silent thank you prayer that this wasn't one of the nights Reagan had snuck in and stayed over. After the one time that had happened, when Karma had 'mistaken' Reagan for an intruder and hauled her out of Amy's bed by the hair ("There are a lot of pervs out there," Karma had said. "I was just being safety conscious."), Amy had begged Farrah for a lock on her door.

"I hold in my hands," Karma announces, waving about a brightly colored spiral notebook, "the agenda for our sixth annual New Year's Eve Bash!"

Amy sits up, blinking her eyes against the sunlight. There are times - more than she'd like to admit - when she wonders why the hell she's still friends with Karma.

A not-surprising number of them occur at this time of the morning.

Karma flips the cover open and drops the notebook in Amy's lap, and the blonde is momentarily grateful that it's not an entire dossier.

Amy glances down at the page, seeing their entire day outlined.

Noon - 6pm → Hate watching Twilight

6pm - 8pm → Baking of Snickerdoodles, baking of pizza bites, mocking of Taylor Lautner's post-Twilight career, Liam-bashing (may be extended longer if both parties agree)

Amy likes that last part.

8pm - 11pm → Eating of the Snickerdoodles, pizza bites, and assorted other junk food, making of the Resolution Lists

Last year, Karma's one resolution - which Amy pointed out really didn't constitute a list - was to become popular and land the hottest guy in school.

Never let it be said Karma doesn't take her resolutions seriously.

11pm - Midnight → Watching the various countdown shows, mocking of Ryan Seacrest for not being Dick Clark and Carson Daly for not being Ryan Seacrest.

Midnight → Celebrate! Let old acquaintances be forgot (especially if their last name is Booker).

12:01 - Whenever Amy passes out (wuss!) → Binging Orange is the New Black or Orphan Black, to be chosen by whomever eats more Snickerdoodles.

"Well?" Karma asks, her eyes lighting up. "Perfect, right? I mean, I know we've already hate watched Twilight lately, but that was with Lauren, so does that really count?"

"Karma..."

"And I know you'll eat more Snickerdoodles, you always do, but at least think about watching Orange? Please?"

"Karma…"

"And I'm serious about the Liam bashing. I feel like I just need a good hour or two of venting about how much of a hottie doucheface he really is. But I understand if you don't want to hear it and I-"

"Karma!"

Karma pauses, finally, and looks at Amy. "What?"

Amy has no idea how to do this. Slow? Rip the band-aid off?

Send her a text message after she's gone home?

"About New Year's Eve…" That's all Amy gets out. In all the times she's tried to figure out how to say this, that's all she's ever gotten out.

But, it seems, that's actually enough.

"Reagan," Karma says. "Right?"

Amy nods and tries not to notice the way Karma's eyes dim.

"It's OK," Karma says. "You should spend New Year's Eve with your girlfriend. I mean, that's what holidays are for, right? Being with the ones you love?"

Amy can never tell if Karma really means to be passive aggressive or if she just stumbles into it.

Karma rolls on as she scoops up the notebook and stands up from the bed. "I'm sure my parents and their hippity-dippity friends won't mind one more around the environmentally-conscious bonfire," she says. "And I'm sure they'll have plenty of organic s'mores to go around."

Amy crinkles her nose. "With those organic marshmallows?" She shudders. "Eating those was like eating human flesh."

Karma nods in agreement. "It's fine," she says. "Really, it is." She heads for the door. "I'm sure I'll have a great time with my parents. Maybe I can even convince them to watch Twilight with me…"

"Or," Amy says. "You could come here." She closes her eyes and wonders - for about the thousandth time in the last week - how Reagan ever got her to agree to this. "It was Reagan's idea," she says. "You, me. and her. We could all hang together."

The last thought that goes through Amy's mind before Karma crashes back down on to the bed is a simple one.

I am so fucked.

Three Days Before New Year's Eve

Amy thinks she may well be insane for agreeing to this.

But, just because she's insane, doesn't mean she's stupid.

"There are ground rules," she says to Karma. They're sitting on the couch in Amy's living room.

"Ground rules?" Karm sounds skeptical. Since when does she need rules for hanging out with her best friend?

Amy nods. "And before you go getting all defensive, I gave Reagan a set of her own rules, so it's not just you." Amy reaches behind the couch and pulls out a notebook, not unlike the one Karma wrote their agenda in. She drops it in Karma's lap.

Rule #1 - No Twilight

"No Twilight?" Karma asks. Amy rolls her eyes. One rule in and already she's got an issue.

"Reagan actually hates it," she says. "But she did come up with a substitute."

Karma's jaw tenses. She knows she's not going to like this. "And that would be…?"

Amy mumbles something and Karma just stares until she repeats it. "Frozen."

Karma blinks. And blinks again. And a third time and then, finally… "She wants to hate watch the greatest Disney movie of all time?"

Amy nods. She doesn't have the heart to go into Reagan's entire hatred for all things Disney.

She doesn't want to kill Karma on the spot.

Karma is about to protest when Amy points at the notebook. "Rule number two," she says.

Rule #2 - Rule #1 is not negotiable. So, make like Elsa and Let It Go.

Karma shoots Amy a glare as cold as Olaf in December.

Rule #3 - There will be at least one viewing of Pitch Perfect.

Karma can't argue with that. Though, since she's sure it was Reagan's suggestion, she does find herself tempted.

Rule #4 - Liam bashing extended to at least one full hour.

Rule #5 - If Reagan messes with your name, you will not make a big deal out of it.

"If ?" Karma asks.

"Fine," Amy concedes. "When," she says. "And I told her not to, but…"

Rule #6 - No starting fights over stupid shit.

"I don't do that -"

Amy cuts her off. "The last time we all hung out, you started an argument over whether watermelon or cantaloupe is the better melon," she says. "And you threw watermelon at Reagan."

"How was I supposed to know she was allergic?" Karma asks. "I mean, really, who's allergic to watermelon?"

Amy ignores her. "Do you agree to the rules?" Karma nods. "Good. Then I guess we're on."

Karma nods again and then pauses. "One question," she says. "Did Reagan agree to hers?"

Since the Liam debacle, Amy tries very hard to never outright lie to Karma. "Yeah," she says. "Didn't even argue."

She tries really hard. But sometimes….

Four Days Before New Year's

"Did you get the email?"

Amy hears Reagan sigh over the phone. "Opening it now," she says. "I don't see what's so important that you had to email me... wait… ground rules?"

"I am not having a repeat of Communal," Amy says. "Or the party at Shane's. Or the Great Melon Incident of 2014."

She'd wanted to sit down with Reagan, but the DJ's schedule had made that impossible, so email it was.

"Fine," Reagan says, though her tone indicates it's anything but. She scrolls through the mail on her phone as she spins. Amy can hear the music in the background.

Rule #1 - Do not mess Karma's name up on purpose.

Rule #2 - See Rule #1

"Come on, Shrimps," Reagan whines. "I just came up with a whole new bunch -"

"Reagan…" And there's that tone again.

Her girlfriend huffs into the phone and Amy knows that's as good as she's going to get.

Rule #3 - No PDA. OK, maybe some PDA. But no overly grope-filled PDA. Kissing, yes. Hand holding, yes. Ass grabbing, lip biting, and hands under clothes, no.

Amy can hear Reagan laugh. "You sure number three isn't more for you?" she asks.

"Trust me," Amy says. "Karma being there will be enough to kill even my mood."

Reagan laughs again. "I've gotta run," she says. "But you do realize there's no way I'm really going to follow these, right?"

Amy grins at the phone. "Yup," she says. "But you do realize that for every one you break, that's one week without sex, right?"

There's silence on the other end of the line.

And then… "You wouldn't."

"I would."

"You couldn't."

Amy grins again. It's nice to be reminded that she has as much power over Reagan as Reagan has over her. "You want to find out?"

So, yeah. Reagan agreed. And she didn't argue. Much.

Ten Hours Until 2015

Amy wonders how she ever thought this was a good idea.

And then she remembers. She never thought that.

But that doesn't really matter now, does it? Because she's still sitting here, like she has been for the last two hours, sandwiched on the couch between her girlfriend and her best friend and - she's pretty sure - this is officially the ninth circle of Hell.

So, she tries her hardest to concentrate on the one thought that's been running through her head for most of the last hour and forty-five minutes (because yes, they did start arguing fifteen minutes in) - mentally composing a list of all the things she's going to do to Reagan - and make Reagan do to her - to pay her back for this.

"Oh come on, Carmen," Reagan says, ignoring the way Amy's hand clenches a little tighter on hers. "You can't be serious."

Didn't she read the email? Didn't they just talk about this?

"It's Karma," the redhead spits back, as if she really believes that Reagan doesn't know her name. "K.A.R.M.A."

Amy rolls her eyes. She always knew Reagan and Karma would find something in common.

She should have figured it would be not listening to her.

"You know, Caramel," Reagan says, and Amy just stares straight ahead, focusing at a point on the wall as the list in her head grows ever longer. "Every time I think you can't get any sillier, you find a way to prove me wrong."

Amy wonders then, if she stares hard enough, if she can will the wall into collapsing on all of them.

At least being buried alive might shut them up.

"So now my opinion is silly?" Karma fires back. Amy can barely muster some gratitude that she at least ignored the name thing this time.

"No," Reagan replies and Amy recognizes the tone. The slightly smug 'you just walked into this' bent to her girlfriend's voice. "You're silly. Your opinion is just wrong."

"Why?" Karma asks. "Because it isn't yours?"

Reagan snorts. "You said it, Connie, not me."

Willing the wall to crush them isn't working. Maybe, Amy thinks, if she squints hard enough, she can spontaneously develop heat vision. Like those mothers who find the strength to lift cars off their kids.

"Wrong?" Karma's voice skips up an octave and Amy's sure the proverbial shit is about to hit the proverbial fan.

And what she wouldn't give for a non-proverbial earthquake. Or a hurricane.

Fuck it. She'd settle for a minor house fire and the accompanying evacuation.

Reagan nods. "That's what I said," she says. "Wrong. W.R.O.N.G."

The wall's not falling, there's no earthquake, and - try as she might- Amy can't muster any heat vision.

Next year, she thinks, I'm going to New York. Even the freezing cold and the drunken idiots has to be an improvement.

She can't stand it anymore, so she pulls her hand free from Reagan's grasp and sits up.

"Girls, girls," Amy says, holding a hand up in front of each of them. "There's no need to fight," she says. "You're both pretty."

And she suddenly feels four eyes on her and - too late - realizes her mistake. She was trying to get them to shut up. Instead, she gave them something in common.

A target.

Reagan speaks first. "Did you just 'you're both pretty' us?" she asks and Amy doesn't even need to look to know that her girlfriend's left eyebrow has arched so high it might well achieve orbit.

Karma chimes in. "Like we're teenage boys having a pissing match over something unimportant?"

Did she just say unimportant?

"You're arguing over which is better - Arrow or The Flash," she says. "Or did someone change the topic to peace in the Middle East when I wasn't looking?"

"Cameron," Reagan says. "Could you please explain to your best friend that a debate over which show is the superior super-hero viewing experience is important?"

"I would," Karma says, "but I was thinking you should probably explain to your girlfriend why she shouldn't get involved when the adults are talking."

Well, Amy thinks, she did always want them to get along.

"Besides," Karma continues, and Amy knows the detente is about to crash and burn. "I couldn't tell her that, anyway, since Flash is a super-hero program and Arrow is clearly not."

Reagan sighs. "Not this again," she mutters.

"Yes, this again," Karma says, circling back to the point that Amy thought she'd beaten into the ground an hour ago. "The only super thing about Arrow is Oliver's body." She pauses for a moment, and Amy knows that can't mean anything good. "Though, to be fair, I guess that wouldn't do much for you."

Amy wishes for an arrow right then. Right between her eyes.

"I suppose you'd be more interested in Laurel, Sara, and Felicity," Karma says. "What with you being a lesbian and all."

And thank you for clarifying Karma. Because no one would have understood if you hadn't.

"OK," Reagan says. "First of all, Laurel? Ew. Much hotter when she was on Supernatural. Second of all, Sara? Anyone - straight, gay, confused - can appreciate that hotness. And as for Felicity… she's smart, blonde, and totally adorkable." Reagan slings an arm around Amy.

"What can I say?" Reagan asks. "I have a type."

And even Karma cracks a smile.

"But," Reagan continues, "I will give you the whole 'Oliver's a hottie thing. I mean… damn. If I were ever going to have sex with a guy -"

"Don't."

Amy's not sure what's more surprising. That she actually says it out loud.

Or that Karma says it too.

Seeing the questioning gazes Amy and Reagan have fixed her with, Karma just shrugs.

"What do you want me to say?" she asks. "It wasn't that good. Certainly not anything to write home about." She grins. "Let's just say if Liam was a super-hero… The Flash would be a very appropriate name."

Reagan laughs so hard she tips into Amy and practically knocks her girlfriend off the couch.

"Thank God," Amy mutters. "I was worried it was just me."

And that?

That just makes Reagan - and even Karma - laugh even harder.

Nine and A Half Hours Until 2015

"OK, Shrimps. You settle it. Which is better?"

Karma shakes her head. "She can't," she says. "Amy's never even finished season 1 of Arrow."

Reagan pulls back, eyebrows cocked and loaded. "Excuse, me? You've never seen…" She shakes her head. "God," she says, "How is it I'm dating you?" she asks.

"Maybe I should remind you that most of my binge watching time has been taken up by other 'activities' recently?" Amy replies

Reagan blushes. She actually fucking blushes and it's so adorable that Amy is tempted to break the PDA rules right then and there.

"OK, then," Reagan says. "Here's the plan. We've got over nine hours till midnight. We burn through as much of season 1 as possible, take a break just before midnight, watch Ryan Seacrest get his Dick Clark on - "

Karma giggles.

Reagan and Amy both look at her.

"What?" Karma asks. "It's a little funny. She said 'dick'. You know, and she's a lesb - "

Amy holds up a hand and shakes her head. "Don't," she says. "Just… don't."

Reagan continues. "We watch the ball drop - and not a fucking word out of you about the lesbian saying 'ball', Karma Sutra - and then it's back to the rest of season 1. Everybody in?"

Karma nods enthusiastically.

Amy sighs and agrees.

At least if they're watching something, she thinks, maybe they won't be talking.

And Felicity is pretty hot…

Six Hours Until 2015

Three episodes in, and Amy needs popcorn. And a drink.

And, surprisingly enough that's only because she's thirsty.

Karma and Reagan volunteer to get the provisions from the kitchen so Amy can keep watching and because Amy knows, they still want her to settle their stupid argument.

Karma tosses the popcorn bag into the microwave and watches Reagan hunt down cups and sodas. She's struck by how familiar the older girl is with the Raudenfeld-Cooper kitchen. It's a subtle reminder of how firmly entrenched Reagan's become in Amy's life.

And it makes Karma realize there's something she really needs to say.

"Reagan?" The older girl's head pops out from behind the cabinet she's digging through for a bowl. "Thanks," Karma says.

Reagan stares at her for a moment, debating between just accepting and asking. "OK," she says. "But, for what?"

"For including me tonight," Karma says. "Amy told me it was your idea."

Reagan nods. "Well, she told me that New Year's was a tradition for you two, so…" she shrugs and goes back to hunting for a bowl."

Karma knows she should probably leave it there, but when does she ever do what she should?

"But you two could've started your own tradition," she says.

Reagan eyes her over the microwave. She knows this one of those moments. She can let that small bit of nagging jealousy win out. She can keep pushing Karma's buttons just because the other girl's presence in Amy's life pushes hers.

Or…

"Amy and I can have lots of our own traditions," Reagan says. "That doesn't mean the old ones all have to just disappear." She smiles, maybe the first genuine smile she's given Karma since Communal. "And I wouldn't want them to."

The two girls stand there, just staring at each other, neither one quite sure how to move forward or how they even got here.

And the microwave beeps. And Karma practically jumps out of her skin.

Reagan can't help but laugh. And Karma can't help but join in.

Karma pulls the popcorn from the microwave and takes the bowl Reagan offers her. "OK," she says. "This is it. The question." She nods at the bowl of popcorn. "Butter or salt?"

Reagan cocks her head as she thinks it over. "Is this a trick question?" she asks. "Both," she says, finally. "But extra salt."

Karma grins. "Amy," she yells into the living room. The blonde stumbles into the kitchen a moment later. "You can keep her," Karma says, nodding at Reagan.

Amy looks back and forth between the two girls, thoroughly confused. "OK," she says. "I will?"

Reagan grabs Amy's wrist and pulls her close, dropping a quick peck on her lips. "Damn right you will," she says, then she tips her head at Karma. "And you probably should keep Carmello too." She grins at the redhead. "Even if she does have lousy taste in TV shows."

Fifteen Minutes Until 2015

"I can't believe she fell asleep in the middle of the best episode," Reagan says. Amy is leaning up against her, head on Reagan's chest, breathing steadily.

"That's tradition, too," Karma says. "Every year, 11:45, just like clockwork. Any other night of the year, she's up till one, two, three in the morning. New Year's Eve? Can't make it."

Reagan brushes a few errant strands of her hair out of her girlfriend's face, smiling softly at the sleeping blonde. And in that moment, Karma feels like she's intruding.

"Can I ask you something?"

Reagan bites back the 'you just did' that almost pops out of her mouth and just nods.

Karma takes her time, wanting to find the right way, but she finally just blurts it out. "You're in love with her, aren't you?"

Reagan blushes immediately. "I… uh…" She's not sure why she's stammering, since she knows damn well she's fallen for Amy, but she hasn't even told her that yet. "Yeah," she says, finally. "I am. I am totally ass-backwards, head over heels, stupid in love with her."

"But you haven't told her yet?"

Reagan shakes her head. "I don't want to rush things or make her feel like she has to say it back to me. I mean, you know the whole one date and a U-haul… and we haven't been together that long, and she's had a rough couple of months…"

She trails off as she realizes she might be jeopardizing the fragile peace she and Karma have reached.

"It's OK," Karma says, with a small smile, realizing even as she says it, that she really means it. "Things haven't been easy on any of us. But I think… I think things are looking a bit better now." She smiles at Reagan. "And take it from me, you've got nothing to worry about. She loves you too."

Reagan arches a brow.

"I've known Amy Raudenfeld for most of my life," Karma says. "Sometimes, I know what she's thinking before she does." Once upon a time, Karma realizes, she wouldn't have said sometimes. "Trust me. I see it every time she looks at you. Amy loves you."

Karma turns back to the screen, watching Ryan Seacrest ramble on as she blinks back tears she doesn't really understand.

Silence falls between the two girls and, for the first time, it isn't uncomfortable.

Midnight

They wake Amy as the clock hits twelve.

Instead of the traditional kiss, Amy gets two. One on each cheek. Girlfriend. Best Friend.

She's kind of glad the wall never collapsed on them.

Five Minutes After Twelve - 2015

Karma's gone off to the kitchen to fetch more popcorn and coffee because, dammit all, they're making it through season one of Arrow tonight.

Reagan is heading that way too, when Amy catches her by the wrist and pulls her into a kiss.

"Happy New Year, Shrimps," Reagan says.

"I love you too," Amy replies.

Reagan's face goes white and she feels… well.. she's not sure what she feels. "You…" she stammers, not noticing the grin on Amy's face at her sudden confusion. "You were awake?"

Amy nods. "The whole time," she says. "I never fall asleep on New Year's Eve. I just pretend to since it drives Karma nuts because she thinks I'll miss the ball drop and midnight and the whole thing." Amy grins. "Sometimes, she's just so much fun to mess with."

A huge smile crosses Reagan's face. "I knew there was a reason I loved you," she says, enjoying how the words sound finally coming out of her.

"Oh, I'm sure there's more than one," Amy says, giving Reagan a quick peck before she heads to the kitchen, pausing just past her to slap her girlfriend on the ass. "Fire up the Netflix," she says. "Karma and I will get the snacks."

Seven Minutes After Twelve - 2015

Amy watches Karma for a minute as she shakes the fresh bag of popcorn into the bowl.

If you'd told her a year ago, Amy thinks, that this was where she'd be in 2015, she'd have said you were nuts.

A lesbian? Please.

In love with an older woman? I don't think so.

Grateful that she and Karma can even be in the same room? That that would have even been a concern wouldn't have crossed her mind.

But here she is. A year older. Gay as it gets. In love for the second time in a year.

And there's Karma. Right by her side.

Maybe not as right by it as a year ago.

But she's there. And that's what counts.

Karma turns with the bowl just as Amy steps toward her. The redhead looks at her friend with a bit of confusion as Amy takes the bowl from her hands and pulls her into a hug.

It's stiff, for just a moment, but then it's like it's always been. Like they were never meant to hug anyone else, not like this.

Karma rests her head on Amy's shoulder and it crosses her mind, briefly, that this is the first time she's not worried about what Reagan might think if she walks in.

Hell, Karma thinks, maybe if she did, Karma would just pull her into the hug too.

OK. Maybe not. But someday…

Amy leans back, smiling at her friend, and her eyes fall on the heart necklace dangling around Karma's neck.

"You put it back on," she says, running her thumb across the gold charm.

Karma nods. " It itches sometimes," she says, grinning at Amy's frown. "But if 2014 taught me anything, it's that this," she reaches up and catches Amy's hand, the necklace pressed between their palms. "This is a part of me. One I'm not ready to let go just yet."

Amy smiles as she tips her forehead against Karma's. "I love you, buttface."

Karma smile back. "If you mean that," she says, "then you'll tell Reagan."

Amy pulls back, terror on her face. "Tell her what?"

Karma picks up the bowl of popcorn and heads toward the living room. "That The Flash is better," she says. "What did you think I meant?"

She pauses in the door, glancing back at Amy. "Sometimes, Raudenfeld you're just so much fun to mess with."