A/N: I wrote this from like 2-5am in bed on my phone two days ago. This is based on Tiffany's Japanese flag incident. Which I'm honestly so angry about that I actually burned up thinking about it. I had to write this or I would have-- I don't even know. I only wish that we could help Tiffany in some way; as someone put it, they cheer us up when we're down but we can't do the same for them.. I hope she knows that we're with her and will continue to be with her.

Tiffany is pulled into a pair of arms and against a soft body, and she instinctively freezes but then she realizes who’s holding her and the tension drains out of her muscles, only to be replaced by a different kind of tension.

“Steph.” That name is like a pulled trigger and that voice the bullet tearing through air only to kiss her with its recoil.

“J-Je—”

A slight smile. “You’re almost there.”

That elicits a laugh from her, slightly choked, mostly raw, aching with the motion, like she had forgotten how to.

“Jessica.” Tiffany fights to regain some composure, which is hard with the way Jessica frowns at the name, like it’s not the one she expected to hear. “What are you—”

What are you doing here? What are you to me now? What are you…?

“What am I?” Jessica’s frown deepens. “Angry.”

“Angry?”

“That they did this to you.”

Tiffany gives a hollow laugh. “Did what?”

“Look at you,” Jessica says, her gaze sweeping over Tiffany like both an accusation and a defence. “Have you even slept these past few days?”

“Of course I’ve slept.” Her sleep has been riddled with nightmares but she almost prefers them to her waking life.

“Tiffany.” She’s weighed down by all the things in that word. “You know that antis are—I don’t even want to use the word ‘people’—creatures that can’t be listened to. Don’t take what they say to heart.”

“Yeah, like how you didn’t take their words to heart when we were rookies?”

“My heart was a lot softer back then,” Jessica says, and Tiffany can only swallow in reply, feeling like she chokes on hers. “And yours has always been too soft for your own good.”

“Has it?” Tiffany asks with a laugh that rings too high and too shrill.

Jessica gives her a long, steady look. For all the talk of Jessica being cold and reserved, she always wore her heart on her sleeve but now it seems that she’s rolled her sleeves up and Tiffany can’t tell what lies under them.

“Soft when it should be hard, and vice versa.” Jessica takes her hand but doesn’t hold it, only lightly pats it and then lets go before her touch even sinks in. “Try to toughen it up this time.”

“Is that why you came here? To impart your wisdom upon me?”

Jessica looks at her like she can see right through her words, can see right through her. “No, I came here because I’m worried about you.”

Tiffany spread out her arms. “Well as you can see, I’m fine and dandy. So you can take your worry back to wherever you came from.”

Jessica’s perfect composure seems to finally be cracking. “I came from a place of concern, as a friend—”

“Well, you can go right back to it. I don’t need your concern or your friendship.” Tiffany spits out the last word like it’s poison. “I don’t need you!” she means to yell, but somehow the “don’t” skips away and it comes out as “I need you!”

The last piece of Jessica’s calm, cordial mask crumbles, and she stares at Tiffany with eyes like open wounds, tearing open ones in Tiffany she thought had healed.

“Well,” she says haltingly, and suddenly she sounds like the girl from almost a decade ago who cried herself to sleep over hateful comments, who used up a box of tissues along with Tiffany one night talking about home in a mixture of English and Korean. “I’m here.”

(“I miss home,” Tiffany whispered, eyes red and swollen.

Jessica reached for another tissue but they had gone through the whole box so she dabbed at Tiffany’s eyes with her sleeve instead. “Sorry, I think I might have some ketchup stains on this sleeve,” she said, which startled a laugh from Tiffany.

“It’s okay. I’m staining it now anyway.”

“It’s a good thing tears are clear, right? So it’s easier to hide that we’ve been crying.” Tiffany didn’t know what to say to that, but Jessica continued talking, being the one to supply the words between them for once. “I know you must miss home a lot but. Is Korea not home?”

Tiffany smiled. “I think it can be, one day.”

Jessica smiled back, and Tiffany wondered if that day had already begun.)

“Steph?”

That name is the straw that breaks her back, not that her spine was strong in the first place. She lurches toward and against Jessica, who stumbles back, unprepared for Tiffany to slam into her like a bowling ball into a pin. Only it’s Tiffany’s heart that cries strike when Jessica puts her arms around her and steadies her even though her own feet are barely settled on the ground.

“You trying to take me out?” Jessica asks, smiling. She’s regained her balance and technically so has Tiffany, but her breathing still feels uneven, her heartbeat unsteady, her body a cacophony of un’s fighting to regain rhythm.

“You’re here,” Tiffany says, “and you got angry for me. I’m—I shouldn’t have yelled at you.”

“It’s okay, you didn’t really yell. Well, you always yell so it’s nothing I’m not used to.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Jessica says again.

Tiffany shakes her head. “It’s not okay.” Her voice cracks and her body joins in on the quake, shivering, trembling, like whatever was holding her together has finally given way. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to.”

Jessica puts her arms around her again, holding her so tightly that there’s no room for anything between them, not even Tiffany’s tremors.

“I know you didn’t mean to, Steph. It’s okay. You’re okay.”

“I’m really sorry.” Tiffany doesn’t know if she’s even saying the words anymore or just thinking them. “If I could take it back, I would. I’ll watch myself from now on, I’ll be careful, I’ll—”

Jessica silences her by pressing her lips against Tiffany’s, swallowing her apologies and kissing back reassurances. Tiffany’s hands curl against Jessica’s shoulders, digging into them for a moment before settling flat, the little strength she has left seeping from her fingers.

“We always need to watch ourselves,” Jessica says, slow and measured. “Our lives are for show and we can’t afford to mess up.”

Tiffany nods. Oh how well she’s learned this lesson. Or at least she thought she has, but it turns out that she was wrong. Oh so wrong.

“That being said, don’t watch yourself too hard. I mean, watch over yourself but don’t look too much in the mirror. Not in a vain way, just saying that—”

Tiffany laughs. “Don’t worry, Jessi. I know what you mean.”

“Do you?” Jessica exhales. “Good.”

“I’ve had a lot of practice deciphering your Jessisms.”

“Jessisms?”

“Yeah, don’t worry partner, I got you.”

Jessica smiles. “No need to say, right?”

“Right.” Tiffany returns the smile. “No need to say.”

A/N: I know the ending is rather abrupt and the mood suddenly becomes inexplicably light and cheerful. I tried rewriting it but it didn't work out, and honestly my heart craves the fluffy JeTi ending along with history (their "hey yo partner! no need to say" will forever kill me), because-- what is fluff lol. They deserve this little bit of fictional irrational happiness.