A/N: I've always wanted to write post-disbandment fic and this is my stab at it. I also started this in 2013, so Sicagate hadn't happened yet and you can assume they disband under very amicable conditions (like, let's say, Sistar).

Tiffany is in France when she receives Juhyun’s wedding invitation. Putting down her croque-monsieur, she stares at the ivory stationary paper with more than a little surprise. She would never have thought that Juhyun would be the first out of them to get married: Juhyun, who wrinkled her nose at the mention of boys and always talked about how “marriage prevents you from doing the things that you want to do.”

But the Jung Yonghwa is not a surprise to see.

Tiffany tucks the invitation carefully away into the front pocket of her purse and looks out the window of her tiny studio apartment. The view from downtown Paris is beautiful beyond words, but the scenery does nothing to take away from the heavy weight that always presses down on her chest, like a pendant of pressure that she can’t remove.

The air in Seoul feels different. Tiffany breathes in deep and holds it in her lungs, where it feels foreign but not unwelcome.

The airport is not a strange place to her, especially not this one, and she collects her baggage and hails a taxi without really registering what she’s doing. After that, she walks around aimlessly for a while, trying to settle in to a place that she used to call home.

She doesn’t feel like she’s come home, not really. She doesn’t feel like she’s left home either, when she packed some simple bags and booked a ticket here, because France wasn’t home, and neither was Switzerland, or any of the multitude of countries that she’s lived in and enjoyed but never loved.

Not like Korea. She loved Korea, still loves it, and of course a great part of that has to do with the places and experiences, but she knows the main reason is because everyone she loves is here. Her family is here, not her biological one, but equally her real one, the one she didn’t get to choose but would’ve chosen anyway.

And that does make this home, she thinks. Isn’t love what makes a place a home?

Her musings put a thoughtful smile on her face; not happy, really, but something approaching contentment. It’s how she usually feels these days, not on either end of the emotional scale, just floating somewhere in between, wanting without really knowing what she wants.

“Fany!” Sunkyu is the first to see Tiffany, and she rushes over to her, giving her a big hug. “Oh my god, I can’t believe how long it’s been since I’ve seen you. Look at you, you’re prettier than ever.”

“France will do that to you,” Tiffany says, tossing her hair back and striking a pose.

“I can’t believe you’ve been living in Paris.”

“Paris is a nice place. Although I do have a soft spot for Switzerland. The mountains are beautiful there, and the air is so nice. And the chocolate—”

“What are you, turning European on us?”

Tiffany smiles, half-sheepish, half-rueful. “I just…wanted to get away,” she admits. “Needed to get away. I couldn’t stay in Korea, and I didn’t want to go back to the States either, because it wasn’t home anymore. Not really. So I went to Europe.”

Sunkyu’s eyes are soft, understanding. “At least you didn’t go to Antarctica,” she says, and Tiffany laughs so hard her stomach hurts. She can’t remember the last time she laughed like this.

“I’ve missed you so much.”

“You could’ve come see us,” Sunkyu says, not quite an accusation but not far off. “We didn’t know where you were, but you knew where we were.”

Tiffany looks away, ashamed. “I’m not sure if I knew where I was either. Or at least, where I was going.”

“Where are you going now?”

I don’t know is Tiffany’s first thought, but she doesn’t say that. Instead she smiles and replies, “Well, for now I’m here to stay.”

Sunkyu doesn’t look very satisfied with that response, but she smiles back. “Welcome back, Fany. Welcome home. This is still your home, you know.”

Tiffany nods wordlessly, and when Sunkyu opens her arms, she steps into her embrace, feeling warm and secure and anchored by her love for the girl who is a sister to her in every way that matters, for her love for all of them. It’s not an anchor like a dead weight and chain; it’s a homing beacon, a cord that has led her back to where it all began.

Maybe she would stay longer than she first anticipated, she thinks, and then she sees a familiar face that has haunted her dreams and waking thoughts for years, and all her thoughts leave her like an expelled breath.

“Tiffany,” Jessica greets simply.

Sunkyu looks between the two of them for a moment. “I’m going to go find Taengoo,” she announces. “I haven’t bothered her for a world record time.”

“What is that, half an hour?” Jessica asks wryly.

Sunkyu gasps. “Has it been half an hour already?”

“Tell TaeTae hi for me,” Tiffany says.

“You can tell her hi soon enough yourself,” Sunkyu says, and with a significant look at both of them that Tiffany can’t quite read, she’s gone.

“Tiffany,” Jessica says again, just her name, like she’s reacquainting herself with the sound.

“Hi,” Tiffany says softly.

“Hi.”

Then they just stand there and look at each other for a long, long moment, like they’re not sure if the other is really there, if she’s still the same person as before.

Jessica’s hair is light, somewhere between dark blonde and sandy brown, and her makeup is perfect. She looks like the Jessica Tiffany sees splashed all over screens and posters and magazine covers, not exactly Tiffany’s Jessica and not not her either.

“You look nice,” is all Tiffany can think to say.

“So do you. Your hair’s black again.”

“Yeah.” She fingers a lock of her hair absentmindedly. “Nobody to tell me what colour to dye it anymore.”

“I can’t say the same.”

Tiffany thinks about the stack of Jessica’s albums that she has tucked away in her closet. She would take one out sometimes and trace her finger over the glossy cover, wishing that she could touch Jessica, hold onto her instead of merely to memories, which are the only things of Jessica that are really hers to keep.

“I like your hair. It suits you.” Tiffany knows it’s pathetic that this is all she says. It’s certainly not all she has to say, but seeing Jessica again after so many years… It’s already taking a lot out of her just to stand here and make casual conversation with her.

“You told me once that I could pull off any hairstyle,” Jessica says. “Of course it’s not true – did I mention that I hated my Gee hair? – but you always did see people for better than how they are.”

Tiffany doesn’t think they’re talking about hairstyles anymore. “Jessi, I—”

Jessica waits patiently as Tiffany struggles for words to express what she wants to but doesn’t know how to say.

“Do you think I ran away?” she ends up asking.

Jessica looks taken back. “What?”

“Leaving isn’t the same thing as running away. What I did—I thought it was just leaving, but maybe I was really running.”

“What were you running from? Were you running from us?”

“The only direction I would run is towards you guys,” Tiffany says softly. “You’re my family. You’re all I have.”

“Then stay,” Jessica say, half a request, half a demand. “Stay, and stop running.”

Tiffany swallows. “It’s not that easy.”

“It’s not that hard.”

“Jessi—”

“You know, nobody has called me that since you left,” Jessica muses. “I’ve kind of missed it.”

Tiffany smiles at that. “Have you?”

“I’ve missed you,” Jessica says, a crease forming between her eyebrows. She puts her hand on Tiffany’s arm, her touch light but heavy somehow, weighing Tiffany down like a different kind of anchor. Tiffany swallows.

“I’ve missed you too,” she whispers. “You have no idea how much I’ve missed you.”

“Then why didn’t you come back?” Jessica’s voice is so soft Tiffany has to strain to hear her, but every word hits her like a blow. “I thought about you all the time. I called you, but you didn’t pick up. I e-mailed you, but you didn’t reply.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I don’t want an apology from you.”

Tiffany’s voice leaves just as soft. “Then what do you want?”

“A promise.” Jessica looks straight into Tiffany’s eyes, stealing her breath, her focus; her everything, really, except you can’t exactly steal what you already have. “Promise me you’ll stop running.”

The way Jessica’s looking at her makes Tiffany want to promise her the moon, the stars, all the beautiful, intangible things that can never be owned, only dreamed of. (Sometimes she feels like Jessica is part of that list.)

“I can’t do that.”

Jessica doesn’t back off. Tiffany loves her for it; she loves her for a lot of things. “Why not?”

“Because I don’t even know what I’m running from.”

Jessica exhales, more of a long-held breath than a sigh. She takes Tiffany’s wrists, holds them gently, and pulls Tiffany forward, toward her, not enough to touch, just to stand closer to each other. “You don’t ever have to run from me,” she says softly, and Tiffany just nods, unable to look away from her.

She doesn’t tell Jessica that as a matter of fact, she had tried to run from Jessica the hardest – or rather, her feelings for Jessica – but she wasn’t any more successful at it than she would have been at trying to stop eating or singing.

“What was your favourite city in Europe?” Jessica asks all of a sudden. “I know you’ve been to a lot, judging from all the postcards.”

“Paris, probably,” Tiffany replies after thinking about it for a bit. Paris was beautiful and busy, and it reminded her of touring and performing and lying in her hotel bed dead exhausted but unable to fall asleep due to the adrenaline pumping through her veins.

It didn’t remind her of how Jessica looks when she falls asleep in the van, or on the plane, or anywhere remotely comfortable, or of the face Jessica makes when she doesn’t hit a note right on the first try, or of the nights they spent talking, heads bent close together, eyes only seeing each other, and for that, she was infinitely grateful. Paris may be the so-called city of love, but Tiffany didn’t go there in the hopes of finding it. (She went there trying to leave it behind, knowing it was a futile effort but trying anyway.)

“Did you meet some charming French gentleman who swept you off your feet?”

Tiffany laughs at the thought. Like she’d be interested in anyone but the woman in front of her. “Not exactly. What about you? Did you meet anyone worth singing about?”

Jessica’s eyes are twinkling. “I’m working on that.”

“Your name’s come up with a lot of guys lately,” Tiffany remarks, trying to sound casual, but judging by the amused look on Jessica’s face, she’s not succeeding.

“Don’t worry, I’m not actually dating any of them.”

“I’m not worrying! I just—I want you to be happy, that’s all.”

Jessica’s eyes soften. “I’m happy right now,” she tells Tiffany, “right where I am.”

Tiffany’s mouth goes dry. “I’m happy too,” she manages, and when Jessica puts her arms around her, she buries her face against Jessica’s neck and clings to her, feeling not just wanting but wanted.

It’s a dizzying feeling, an exciting one that pulls and pushes at her, leaving her dazed and unsatisfied and wanting moremoremore. Jessica’s like a drug to her, and Tiffany’s been going through withdrawal for too long. Now that she’s had a fix (not large enough, not long enough, not enough), she doesn’t think she can stop anytime soon.

Someone clears . “Am I interrupting something?”

Tiffany lifts her face from Jessica’s shoulder, staring with wide eyes at the owner of that voice, at her best friend. Why is Taeyeon’s face blurry, she wonders, and then she realizes it’s because she’s looking at her through a haze of tears. “TaeTae,” she breathes. “You’re here.”

“Of course I’m here, did you think I wouldn’t come to see my best friend when she comes back to Korea after two years?”

Taeyeon doesn’t comment on Tiffany’s tears, or on how closely Jessica and Tiffany are wrapped around each other. She’s looking at them like the way Sunkyu had, semi-knowingly, and Tiffany wonders what it is Taeyeon understands, because she herself sure doesn’t.

Jessica gently retracts her arms and pulls away from Tiffany, but they’re still standing close together, shoulders brushing, and Tiffany feels her addiction call to her.

“Maybe she did think that,” Jessica says, grinning at Taeyeon’s affronted look.

Tiffany hugs Taeyeon so fervently she almost knocks her over, and Taeyeon breathes out a quiet laugh against her ear.

“I’m so happy to see you, TaeTae. You look—exactly the same.”

“Really? I’ve been told I look a little taller these days.”

“That’s because you’ve been wearing higher heels these days,” Jessica supplies helpfully.

“Why do you even open your mouth if all you’re going to say is stuff like that?” Taeyeon complains.

Jessica snorts. “What, the truth?”

Tiffany looks between the two of them, warm and fond. “Is this how you two are all the time?”

“I don’t know,” Jessica says. “Taengoo, is this how we are all the time?”

Taeyeon looks thoughtful. “I think it’s a good day today, actually.”

“Taengoo and I love each other,” Jessica tells Tiffany.

Taeyeon snorts. “Yeah, you just have a funny way of showing your affection.”

Tiffany thinks that it’s never been hard for her to see and feel Jessica’s affection, which is something that Jessica’s always freely given to her.

“It’s hard to believe Juhyun’s the first one out of all of us to get married, isn’t it?”

“Well, if you think about it like this,” Hyoyeon says. “We’re all out having our flings, dating this guy one second and that guy the other second, but of course Juhyun wouldn’t do that. She would settle down with him.”

“That’s true,” Tiffany says, having a moment of striking clarity. “I haven’t thought about it like that.”

“What have you been thinking about?” Sunkyu sounds genuinely curious. “Have you been thinking about us?”

“I’ve thought about you too much,” Tiffany replies honestly. “You guys are everything to me. That’s why I had to leave. I needed to…to see who I am by myself, without Girls’ Generation and without all of you.”

“And do you know now?” Jessica asks quietly. “Who you are?”

That’s a very good question, Tiffany thinks. She’s asked herself that question many times, and although she’s been all over the world, she hasn’t found the answers she’s been looking for. But now, looking at all of their faces (at Jessica’s face), she feels like she’s on her way to finding out.

“No matter what, you’ll always be our Fany.” Taeyeon puts an arm around her. “Never forget that, okay?”

Tiffany nods, smiling, and she feels like her smile is enough to say everything that she wants them to know. She knows that they’ll understand her, because they’re like that, they’re still a family. Her family.

“I love all of you, very much,” Tiffany says quietly. “Never forget that, okay?”

“We haven’t forgotten, unnie,” Yoona says, her voice soft.

“And we’re not going to,” Sunkyu finishes. “By the way, Fany…”

“Yeah?”

“Even though you love all of us, you still love me the most, right?”

“Oh please,” Sooyoung scoffs before Tiffany can even open to reply. “We all know Fany loves me more than you.”

“I’m sure she loves us all equally,” Yuri says soothingly.

“You’re only saying that because you know she likes me better.” Sunkyu looks at Tiffany with big, wide eyes. “Don’t you, Fany? You love me the most, right?”

“Guys,” Jessica cuts in, her voice cool. “This is fascinating and all, but I think we have important matters to talk about.”

“This is an important matter to me!” Sunkyu insists.

“And since when did you care about ‘important matters’?” Sooyoung adds, with narrowed eyes.

“Well Taengoo isn’t here to boss me around anymore, so I have to learn to take care of myself.” Jessica shrugs. “Why don’t we just agree that Tiffany loves Taeyeon the most and leave it at that?”

“Hey,” Sunny begins indignantly. “Fany totally adores me, I’m her favourite—”

“Oh lay off it,” Sooyoung sighs. “Is there something funky in the air down there or something?”

“Hey, you’re the one with your head in the clouds all the time!”

“It’s nice to see that no one’s grown up,” Tiffany comments in a low voice to Jessica. “I feel like I haven’t left at all.”

Jessica chuckles. “Some of us have grown up, unlike Sunkyu.”

“Like you?”

“I’m very grown-up,” Jessica says, her eyes dark and full of implications.

“Really? I think I’d have to see that for myself.”

Jessica tilts her head to the side, a smile flitting across her face like a shooting star, an invitation in and out of itself.

“If you like her, just go after her,” Taeyeon says. “Don’t just run away again. Because when you come back next time, Jessica might not be waiting for you anymore.”

“But she’s not waiting for me,” Tiffany whispers.

Taeyeon snorts. “She has a different person chasing her every other day. Guys and girls, and some of them are definitely her type. Well, some who would’ve been her type in the past, until she stopped having a type because she only wanted you.”

Tiffany feels like is dry, and her heart is hammering somewhere in the vicinity of .

“She waited for you for two years, Fany. And I agree that you’re worth waiting for, but how long are you going to keep Jessica waiting? It’s not fair to her, you know.”

“I’m not—I’m not trying to keep her waiting.” Tiffany looks down at her hands, her fingers wrung tightly together. “I’m not trying to do anything.”

“You don’t need to try,” Taeyeon says. “Seriously, I don’t understand what the problem is here.”

“Neither do I,” Tiffany admits.

“Fany.” Taeyeon’s eyes are soft. “What if you leave again, and the next time you come back, it’s to Jessica’s wedding?”

The thought of seeing Jessica radiant and lovely in a long white dress, beaming at some faceless groom, who would lift her veil and kiss her, take her into his arms and call her his…

It makes Tiffany nauseous, dries and clogs with how wrong the idea is, how sick it makes her.

“How do you know?” Tiffany finally asks. “How do you know she loves me?”

“Tiffany,” Taeyeon sighs. “How do you not know?”

It’s one of the many questions that Tiffany doesn’t have an answer for.

“He asked me out on a date,” Jessica says, biting down delicately on a lettuce leaf.

“What did you say?” Somehow, Tiffany gets the words out in a calm, even tone.

“I told him I wasn’t interested.” Jessica shrugs. “I told him I wasn’t ready. He told me that he would wait. ‘As long as it takes, Sica, because you’re worth waiting for.’”

“He’s a good guy. Kind and caring and funny and—and cute too. Why aren’t you interested in him?”

Jessica’s eyes are piercing and yet they’re not sharp, not at all, when they rest on Tiffany. “Are you really asking me that question?” she asks quietly. “You know perfectly well why I’m not interested in him. Why I’m not interested in anyone else. Anyone other than you.”

Tiffany’s mouth goes dry. “Jessica—”

“How long are we going to dance around each other like this?” Jessica sighs. “Because I’m tired. I know I don’t have to tell you how I feel, because you know perfectly well.”

“All these years,” Tiffany whispers. “Have you been waiting for me?”

Jessica’s silence is enough of an answer. She puts a hand on Tiffany’s cheek, fingers sweeping over the hollow beneath her cheekbone, the curve of her jaw. “And here you are,” she says softly, “but you’re not here for me.”

“Jessi, I—”

“Taeyeon’s sorry for me. Yoona tries to set up dates for me. Yuri asks me if I regret all these years waiting for you. I don’t, but I can’t keep waiting forever, Tiffany.” Jessica exhales, and Tiffany feels like her own breath is being drawn out of her, her lungs gasping for air. “It’s exhausting to wait all the time, and I’m running out of energy.”

“I’m not worth waiting for.”

Jessica looks at Tiffany, eyes soft and dark and so, so tired. “You are.”

“I hurt you,” Tiffany says quietly. “I’m sorry.”

“You’re worth waiting for, and you’re worth hurting for. But I hope that—I wish that I was worth enough to you for you not to keep hurting me and make me wait.”

You are worth it, Tiffany thinks. You are. You’re worth everything I’m capable of giving, but really, I don’t have much.

Jessica draws her bottom lip into and worries it the way she does when something’s really troubling her. “I’m leaving, Tiffany.”

Tiffany can’t breathe. “What?”

“I’m going to America to work on my new English album. It’s going to take a long time; months, maybe even a year.” Jessica smiles slightly. “I’m looking forward to it. I’ve wanted this opportunity for a while now.”

America. America is all the way on the other side of the world, separated by continents
and oceans. America is the place she left behind all those years ago, as Stephanie, and she wonders what going back now, as Tiffany, would be like.

“The other girls will have my address once I move there,” Jessica says conversationally. “You can have it too, if you want.”

Don’t leave, Tiffany wants to plead. Don’t leave me.

But she doesn’t have the right to ask that. She knows that much. She can’t keep Jessica away at arm’s length for years, and then pull her in and cling to her when she wants to. She can’t expect Jessica to keep loving her and waiting for her when she hasn’t given anything back.

“Do well for your album,” Tiffany says instead, with a small but genuine smile. “Will I get an autographed copy?”

Jessica lets out a quiet laugh. “Steph,” she says, and just like that, all the breath leaves Tiffany again. “Have I ever been able to tell you no?”

Tiffany smiles, because smiling is better than crying, and she reaches for Jessica, who hugs her so fiercely her sides ache. It’s nothing close to the pain in her chest.

You should.

Tiffany closes her eyes and buries her face into Jessica’s hair, clings to her, needy and desperate. Jessica tenses at first but then relaxes and rubs Tiffany’s back, soothing, indecipherable patterns in the hollow where her shoulder blades meet.

You should, but because you don’t, I should stop asking.

I can’t.

I can’t, because I’m selfish and I want things from you. I want you. I love you.

“I need to go, Tiffany,” Jessica says, and it’s the ‘Tiffany’ that snaps her out of it. “I need to do this for me, okay?”

Tiffany nods. “I want you to be happy,” she says, helplessly, sincerely.

“That’s what everyone tells me,” Jessica says with a wry smile.

Tiffany can see something else in her eyes. “But it’s different when I say it.”

“Yes.”

“Because I’m the one making you unhappy.”

“No.” Jessica swallows. “Because you’re the one who can make me happy.”

Tiffany swallows too. “I want to make you happy.”

Jessica looks like she wants to grab Tiffany and kiss her, wants to claim her and take all of her, wants everything she has to give. (Tiffany wants her to have it.)

“I’ll be in America,” is all Jessica says. “I’ll give you my address.”

And then she’s walking away, and Tiffany is left staring after her, their roles reversed at last.

A/N: So of course Tiffany goes to America to chase after Jessica, there's an Epic Love Confession, maybe they get married because now they can, and they live happily ever after. The End.