A/N: I also wrote this in 2013. (Most of my abandoned WIPs seem to have been started then.) This is actually pretty cohesive and organized until the first time skip (which I've denoted with an A/N). After that...well, good luck hahaha.

The title is taken from a James Bond movie and also TTS' song Eyes.

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“You’ll be partnered with one of our top agents,” Tiffany’s boss tells her. “This will be a great opportunity for you. She’s very skilled and experienced, and you can learn a lot from her. There’ll be a few months before you two are sent out on your first mission, and I expect you to put that time to good use.”

Tiffany straightens. “Yes, ma’am.”

Sunny smiles a little. “I’ve told you before – you can just call me by my name.”

“It doesn’t feel right, somehow.”

“You’re a nice kid.” Tiffany makes a face at that word. Between the two of them, Sunny definitely looks younger (there are rumours she uses liquefied money and pure terror to maintain her youthful appearance). “That’ll be good when it comes to your partner.”

Tiffany isn’t sure she likes the sound of that. “Why?”

“Jessica isn’t the most…friendly of people.” Sunny deliberates. “I should probably warn you upfront.”

“Jessica?” Tiffany repeats. “The Jessica? The one who took out the East Sea gang by herself?”

“The rumours about that are a bit exaggerated, but yes – the Jessica is going to be your new partner.”

“Wow.” Tiffany beams at Sunny. “Thank you for partnering me with her. That’s such a privilege.”

Sunny’s forehead furrows. “Don’t thank me yet. You do know what Jessica’s nickname is, don’t you?”

“Ice Princess? Isn’t it because she impersonated a figure skater to protect Kim Yuna for six months after death threats?”

Sunny chuckles. “The stories these days.”

“She didn’t do that?”

“She impersonated a member of the coaching staff, not an actual skater. And it was only for three months. But she did do an excellent job and she caught the stalker, so that’s what’s important.” Sunny gives a wry smile. “I guess Jessica’s reputation precedes her.”

“She is kind of a legend around here.”

“I’m surprised her temperament isn’t more of a legend.” Sunny gives Tiffany a look. “Jessica is…cold. At least her first impression is. That’s where her nickname comes from, not the Kim Yuna stint. She can come off as cold and arrogant, but she’s not and I think she’ll be a good partner for you. But you’ll have to be patient and understanding and remember that she’s the senior agent, and no matter how rude she might be to you, she’s your partner and she’ll watch out for you.”

“I’ll remember,” Tiffany says earnestly. “I’ll try my best to develop a good partnership between us.”

“You’re a nice kid,” Sunny says again. “I have high hopes for you. Don’t let me down, okay?”

“I won’t,” Tiffany promises.

 

Jessica turns out to be barely older than Tiffany and very pretty, even just in a tank top and yoga pants. Her hair is long and blonde, spilling past her shoulders. It can’t very practical, Tiffany thinks, and it must stand out too much.

“Hi,” Tiffany says with a smile. “I’m Tiffany, your—”

“—new partner,” Jessica finishes. “Yeah, I know. Sunny told me already.” She doesn’t sound happy about it, certainly, but she doesn’t sound unhappy either. She just sounds…bored, and she looks it too.

“It’s so great to meet you,” Tiffany says sincerely. “I’ve heard a lot about you around here.”

“I’ll bet you have.”

“I’m really lucky to be your partner,” Tiffany continues, not letting Jessica’s indifference deter her. “I bet a lot of people would kill for that. Maybe literally.”

Jessica doesn’t crack a smile. Actually, her expression doesn’t change at all, and it hasn’t during their whole conversation (if you can even call it a conversation). Tiffany is starting to wonder if she has any other expressions.

“I like my sleep,” Jessica says after a long, awkward silence. “I’m barely functional in the mornings, so don’t expect to see me then. Make sure you remember that I’m your partner, not your babysitter. On a mission I wouldn’t let you get killed, but I wouldn’t be able to protect you from everything either, so—”

“I don’t need you to protect me,” Tiffany interjects.

Jessica gives her a flat look. “You’re a rookie. You’ve barely been at this, and you’ve never been sent on a mission. Don’t flatter yourself.”

“I don’t have any experience, but that doesn’t mean I’m useless. Sure, I’ll need your help sometimes, but we’re partners, we’re supposed to help each other.”

Jessica’s mouth tips up, but it doesn’t look like much of a smile. “Is that what they told you? It’s hilarious what the agency feeds the kids these days.”

Tiffany is starting to understand where Jessica’s nickname came from, and why Sunny threw her all those warnings about her. “I’m not a kid,” she says, trying to keep her voice calm, “and like you said, I’m here to be your partner, not for you to babysit me. So why don’t you treat me like an equal instead of patronizing me?”

Jessica raises her eyebrows. “Who told you that we were equals?”

Tiffany hears a loud huffing sound, and it takes her a while to realize that it’s coming from her. She’s so angry that she can hear herself breathing, quick and heavy. “You,” she can’t even speak properly, “you—”

“You’ve heard a lot about me, huh? You know, they may call me ice princess when I can hear them, but I know what they call me behind my back. You can say it too, I don’t mind being called a .” Jessica’s voice is detached and matter-of-fact, and somehow it calms Tiffany.

“I wasn’t going to call you a .” She remembers what Sunny told her, and she tries to dredge up her reserves of patience and understanding. It’s harder than she expects, and she has to dig deep. “Look Jessica, you may not be happy with our partnership, but you’re stuck with me, and you’re just going to have to deal with it.”

Jessica looks faintly amused; it’s the most emotion Tiffany has seen from her so far. “I’m your senior, you know. Your sunbae.”

“Do you want me to call you that?” Tiffany asks wryly. “Jessica sunbae?”

Jessica actually smiles a little at that. “No, I hate formalities. And don’t ever call me unnie – that just gets on my nerves.”

“Don’t worry, I wasn’t planning on it.”

Jessica’s smile widens slightly. She’s very pretty, Tiffany thinks again. It’s a stupid, shallow, out of place thought, but she can’t help it. Jessica’s very pretty.

“I was just saying that to point out the edge I have over you. If you want to be my equal, you’re going to have to pull your weight.”

Jessica runs her eyes over Tiffany, from the top of her head to the bottoms of her pink Chuck Taylors. It’s a slow, purposeful appraisal, and Tiffany fights her urge to blush and coolly meets Jessica’s gaze.

“Show me what you can do, Tiffany.”

Tiffany gives a very intelligent response of, “Huh?”

“Show me what you can do,” Jessica repeats. “You said you’re useful, right? You’re here to be my partner. I don’t think I need to tell you what I can do, but I don’t have the slightest idea what you can do. So show me.”

Tiffany sets her jaw. “Right here, or…?”

“Follow me.”

With those two words, Jessica turns around and starts walking away, clearly expecting Tiffany to obey her.

Tiffany stares after Jessica with a hard look in her eyes, and after a moment, she follows.

 

Jessica leads her to a training room, one of the advanced ones she’s only seen in passing. Tiffany knows there’s a wide assortment of weapons stored in the shelves, but most of the room is just a large, empty arena, designed for combat.

“So,” Jessica speaks up, still in that cool, apathetic voice. “Come on. Show me what you can do.”

Tiffany looks around at the empty room with confusion. “What do you want me to do?”

Jessica curls a finger in a beckoning motion. “If you can land a blow on me…well, I highly doubt it, so we’ll see then.”

Tiffany’s teeth grind together; she’s shaking, she suddenly realizes, shaking with anger and the burning urge to land a lot more than just one blow on Jessica.

She tries to calm down, but it’s a lot easier said than done. She springs at Jessica, who easily and nimbly dodges her. She tries punching, kicking, clawing, even throwing herself at Jessica, but she can’t even touch her.

Well, of course she’s good, Tiffany rationalizes. How could she do all those things and have such a reputation if she isn’t?

Jessica raises an eyebrow. “Is this all you’ve got?”

Tiffany puts an extra ounce of effort into a leaping kick, and Jessica grabs her leg, swings her around and throws her at the ground. Tiffany lands, hard, the breath knocked out of her. It takes her a few seconds to collect herself and get up to take another go at Jessica.

“That’s enough,” Jessica says.

Tiffany rubs her sore hip. “What?”

“That’s enough,” Jessica repeats in a flat voice. “There’s no point in this meaningless fighting. Well, I should use the word ‘brawling,’ really, because that’s what you’re doing.”

“I—”

“You’re really terrible, how did you even make it here?”

Tiffany gives Jessica a fierce glare. (Well, maybe it’s not as fierce as she thought, because Jessica doesn’t even bat an eyelash.) “You’ve barely seen me fight.”

“Yeah, and I can already tell you can’t,” Jessica says in a bored drawl. As far as Tiffany can tell, that’s her default voice. Tiffany has yet to hear anything different from her. “Who trained you?”

“Aren’t we not supposed to divulge this kind of information?”

“I’m your partner.”

“Really, and here I thought you were my punishment,” Tiffany grumbles under her breath, although apparently not quietly enough because Jessica raises an eyebrow at her.

“What was that?”

Tiffany puts on her best innocent face. “Nothing.” She scrutinizes Jessica for a moment; if Jessica’s expression were any blanker, she would look catatonic.

“I don’t have the best coordination,” Tiffany admits. “I’m pretty clumsy.”

“Yeah, I’ve noticed.”

“But I have a knack for taking people out.”

“I can imagine you taking me out instead of the enemy by accident.”

Tiffany smiles sweetly, trying to hide how she’s gritting her teeth. “I wouldn’t mind taking you out.”

Jessica tilts her head to the side, and Tiffany is stunned when she smiles back, small but brilliant. Tiffany swallows and has to look away.

“Okay,” Jessica says. “Come at me.”

“What?”

Jessica gets her right in the stomach with a kick, knocking the breath out of her. She doesn’t do it particularly hard, but Tiffany’s left doubled over, wheezing and clutching her abdomen.

“What the hell?!”

Jessica smiles again. It’s an unfairly attractive expression, and Tiffany wants to punch it off her face. “Maybe I’ll take you out first.”

Tiffany straightens up, steadying herself, her hands clenching into fists by her side. She drops into an offensive stance, eyeing Jessica, who looks utterly calm and composed.

“I just got my nails done yesterday,” Jessica says idly, holding her hand out. “I don’t want to ruin them, so I’m just going to use my feet.”

“I hope you didn’t get your face done yesterday, because I have plans for it.”

Jessica’s mouth curls up. “Plans involving your fist?”

As an answer, Tiffany goes in swinging.

 

“Pass me another ice pack, will you?”

Jessica hands her two.

“I’m sorry about your eye,” Jessica says, somewhat apologetically. “I was aiming for your neck, but you ducked.”

It seems just like Jessica to make even an apology into a condemnation.

Tiffany says nothing, just holds the ice pack to her eye, while shifting the one over the blooming bruise on her side. Jessica kicks really hard, and she’s just wearing flats. Tiffany can’t imagine how dangerous she would be in a pair of steel-toed boots.

“Can you help me?” Tiffany asks.

“Help you with what?”

“Fighting. You’re so good at it, and I’m…not.”

“So you are aware of it.”

Tiffany’s jaw tightens. “I got in here late. Most people started training years before me. I’ve worked really hard, and I’ve made good progress, but—I had this setback, a while ago. And things haven’t been the same since. I really want to improve, but I don’t know who to go to for help.”

Jessica looks at her for a long moment, her expression thoughtful but still closed off. She doesn’t reply for so long that Tiffany’s about to give up, but then she says, “I’ll help you.”

Tiffany brightens. “You will?”

“Yeah. You’re my partner.” Tiffany starts to smile at that, and then Jessica finishes her sentence. “And if you screw up, I’ll get blamed too.”

“Geez, did you give this same talk to your last partner?”

Jessica’s face turns blank like a door shutting. The door of a bank vault. “How did you know I had a partner before?”

She didn’t, actually. “I was just—”

“Let me tell you something, Tiffany. I like working alone. I don’t like having someone else in the way, holding me back, dragging me down. I’m one of the best agents here, so if I’m your punishment, then you’re my burden.”

Tiffany draws in a breath, her eyes widening, and Jessica pins her with a flat look.

“Sunny always likes giving me partners, she thinks that two heads together are better than one. But let me tell you something – I don’t want this, I don’t want you here, I don’t want to work with you. I just want to make that clear.”

Tiffany bites her lip to stop it from trembling. It works to an extent, but then her jaw starts quivering in its stead. “I think you’ve made it very clear,” she says quietly. “I get it.”

“Good,” Jessica says, and then she walks away without another word or glance.

Tiffany’s eyes are burning, and she doesn’t think it has anything to do with her bruise.

 

“What’s wrong with you? You look like someone killed your cat.”

Tiffany goes at the practice dummy she’s attacking with more venom, almost knocking it to the ground. “I don’t have a cat.”

Sooyoung raises her eyebrows. “Okay, someone’s clearly not in a good mood.”

“No , Sherlock.”

Sooyoung’s eyebrows almost make it to her hairline this time, but she doesn’t look annoyed. “I didn’t think she would be rubbing off on you so quickly.”

“Who?” Tiffany exhales, wiping a hand across her forehead. She’s been training all morning; her face is shining with sweat, and she knows her muscles will be aching tomorrow, but right now she feels great. There’s nothing like physical exertion to relieve stress.

“Your new partner, who else?”

Tiffany’s lips flatten into a taut line at the mention of Jessica. “I don’t want to talk about her.”

“You know, you should take it easy on her.”

Tiffany gives Sooyoung an incredulous look, which turns into an angry frown. “Since when did you tell me what to do?”

“Okaaaaay,” Sooyoung drawls, holding up her hands as if in surrender. “Sorry for us peasants daring to give you some advice, Princess Tiffany. I’m going to get out of your royal hair.”

At that, Tiffany deflates slightly. “I’m sorry,” she says, her shoulders slumping. “I didn’t mean to—”

“—be a ?”

“How did you know Jessica’s my partner?”

“It’s the biggest thing circulating in the grapevine right now,” Sooyoung replies airily. “People don’t know whether to pity or envy you.”

“Why on earth would they envy me?” Tiffany snaps a roundhouse kick at the dummy’s head, almost decapitating it. “If they want her, they can take her. I’m not going to complain. In fact, I’ll send them a fruit basket.”

“You must know where her nickname came from now.”

“Maybe they should rename her ‘icicle princess.’ She’s not just cold, she’s—it’s like every word that comes out of is intended to insult you.”

“Jessica has a gift for insults,” Sooyoung agrees. “Don’t take it so personally. It’s just the way she is. At first, at least.”

“What are you, her girlfriend?” Tiffany delivers a punch to the dummy that makes her knuckles hurt, but she just goes at it again. “You must be part of the envy group.”

“You’re so angry.” Sooyoung sounds amused. “I forgot how sarcastic you get when you’re angry. I feel bad for the dummy. I’m surprised you haven’t taped a picture of Jessica’s face on it.”

“Do you have one?”

Sooyoung laughs. “It’s not a voodoo doll, you know.”

Tiffany deflates again. “I would need one to hit her. I can’t even touch her when we spar.”

“She’s good. She’s amazing, really, so don’t feel too bad about it.”

“You sound like you know her,” Tiffany says, her voice calmer now.

“We were in the same training group, or however you want to put it.” Sooyoung takes a seat on the ground, stretching out her long legs. “I don’t know if I would call us friends, but we get along pretty well. She’s an interesting person.”

“Yeah, she’s one unique snowflake.”

“Wow, she really got to you, didn’t she?”

Tiffany leans over, her hands on her hips, breathing deep. She has to take a break. She’s been at it for hours, and her side is killing her.

“Here,” Sooyoung says amicably, holding out a water bottle towards her.

“Thanks.” Tiffany takes it and gulps down half its contents in a few swallows. She’s thirstier than she thought. “Look, I didn’t mean to be y. I’m just—mad at her.”

“Yeah, I can tell.” Sooyoung pats the spot next to her, and Tiffany joins her on the ground, almost wanting to just flop there and lie down for a very long time. “Even though I’m no Sherlock.”

“Sorry,” Tiffany says quietly, feeling very tired now, in more than one sense.

“It’s okay. You needed to get that out.” Sooyoung hands her something, which she takes automatically. To her surprise, it’s a pink Starburst. “And now it’s out.”

“Why are you giving me candy?”

“My niece and nephew were over. They’re a bunch of brats, but candy always works on them. I had some left over.”

“So I’m a brat who you can win over with candy?” Tiffany asks wryly, popping the Starburst into .

“Seems to be working.”

Tiffany laughs and feels the last bit of her angry tension drain away. “Thanks for the candy, and the water, and – thanks.”

“She wasn’t always like this, you know,” Sooyoung says. “I mean, her…sense of humour hasn’t really changed, but she used to be more of a snowflake than an icicle.”

“Well, what brought on the storm?”

“She’s been through a lot,” is Sooyoung’s reply. “Just don’t be so hard on her, that’s what I’m saying. She might insult you, she might annoy you, but on a mission you won’t find a better partner. She’ll always have your back.”

Tiffany swallows her Starburst; it doesn’t taste as sweet as she expected. “Since you get along with her so great, why didn’t you get assigned as her partner?”

“Did you forget that I already have one?”

Oh, that’s right. Sooyoung’s partner is a girl named Yoona, who has a wide grin and playful disposition. Tiffany has seen her and Sooyoung laughing together and planning pranks on the other agents on more than one occasion. Some of them were lucky enough to get a nice partner.

“Want to trade?” Tiffany asks, not entirely joking.

“Come on, Jessica really isn’t that bad.”

“I don’t know if I can take much more of her. Sometimes I just really want to hit her, but it’s not like I can actually get her.” Tiffany starts tearing the candy wrapper. “She’s really good, right? And I’m obviously not. Why did Sunny partner us together? All I’ll do is hold her back.”

“Fighting skill isn’t everything, you know.”

“I’m not good at being charming either. I’m not cut out for this, really.” Tiffany stares blankly into the distance. “Maybe that’s why I don’t like being Jessica’s partner. It just makes me realize how I don’t belong here.”

“Fany…” Sooyoung says softly.

“Don’t feel bad for me. It’s not like I didn’t know how lacking I am. I’ll just work harder.” Tiffany stands up and fixes her ponytail, tying it high and tight. “And…I’ll try harder with her too. She is my partner, right?”

Sooyoung gives her a warm look. “You’re really something, you know?”

Tiffany smiles. “Something good, I hope.” She brightens. “Hey, do you want to spar with me?”

Sooyoung’s expression turns wary, but she stands up, stretching out her limbs. “Just remember I’m not a practice dummy, okay? You seem a little vicious right now.”

“Vicious?” Tiffany repeats, a laugh in her voice. “You were the one who told me I was about as scary as a kitten.”

“Kittens have claws,” Sooyoung says solemnly.

“I’ll try not to get them out,” Tiffany says, equally as solemnly.

She had almost forgotten just how good Sooyoung is, but it doesn’t take long for her to be reminded as she’s knocked to the ground, landing hard on her afflicted side. She means to get right back up on her feet, but a throbbing lance of pain shoots up her side, and she can’t help her small, pained “ow.”

A slim, manicured hand is extended towards her, accompanied by a cool, bland, “Hey, take it easy.”

That’s not Soooyung’s hand, or voice.

Tiffany looks up, meeting a blank gaze that has a hint of something like concern. “Oh,” she says flatly. “It’s you.”

Jessica crouches next to her, scrutinizing her, the concern gone now, if it had even existed in the first place. “You’re such a delicate flower. I didn’t even hit you that hard.”

“Did you come here to tell me that?” Tiffany gets up on her own, trying to hold back her wince. She shouldn’t have exerted herself so hard; her side has been bothering her all morning, but she’d ignored it, and now the pain is at a level she can’t ignore anymore. “Want to add insult to my injury?”

“I didn’t mean to injure you.” Jessica is the one looking up at Tiffany now. Something about her eyes holds Tiffany in place, and she just looks at Jessica, unsure of what to say, her anger and frustration faltering. “Tiffany—”

“What are you doing here, Jessica?” Tiffany asks, not angry, not frustrated, just tired.

“I was passing by and I heard people fighting,” Jessica replies casually. “It caught my interest.”

Tiffany doesn’t believe that, but she doesn’t bother to poke holes through Jessica’s story either. “Yeah, Sooyoung and I were sparring, and then—” She looks around with surprise. “Where is she?”

“She left.”

“Where did she go? Why did she leave?”

“Why don’t you ask her the next time you see her?” Jessica sits down, crossing her legs with a kind of casual grace that Tiffany’s always admired in people but has never been able to emulate. “Look, if that’s really bothering you, you should see a doctor. We have them around, you know.”

“It’s not really bothering me. I’m fine.”

Jessica doesn’t look convinced. “At least put some ice on it.”

“Did you bring any?”

“Just because I’m called ice princess doesn’t mean I have ice with me all the time, you know.”

Tiffany smiles a little. “I’m fine. It’s not a big deal. I guess I’m just—a delicate flower.”

“Are you really? Delicate?” Jessica asks. “Because I can’t have a delicate partner.”

“What kind of partner can you have, then?”

“Why don’t you stick around to find out?”

Tiffany gives Jessica a long look, trying to use all her training and psychology lessons to get a read on her. Jessica’s eyes are like mirrors, reflecting everything and holding nothing, and Tiffany doesn’t make any headway in understanding her.

“Jessica,” she says slowly. “Do you want me to be your partner?”

Jessica smiles too; a faint smile, a wan smile, nothing like her dazzling one earlier. Tiffany likes this one better. “You’re going to make me say it, aren’t you?”

“I just want to know what you want.” Tiffany hesitates, and Jessica gives her an encouraging sort of look. Well, encouraging for her. Tiffany is starting to read her miniscule changes in expression better and better, and she’s a little proud of it, but a little alarmed too. “You know, maybe I am delicate and clumsy and inexperienced, but I work hard and I learn fast and I won’t give up. I’m just asking for a little cooperation from you.”

“Hmm, I’m good at a lot of things, but cooperation isn’t really one of them.”

“Well then, I guess we both have some learning to do.”

“Tiffany,” Jessica says, slowly but clearly. “I want you to be my partner.”

Tiffany meets her eyes, and she doesn’t know what it is that she sees in them, but she thinks about what Sunny said, and what Sooyoung said, and the promise she made to herself a long time ago, and she reminds herself that she has a long way to go yet and she can’t just stay down every time she falls.

“Okay then, partner.” And she smiles. “Do you want to spar again?”

“I think what you need is a break from sparring. That includes beating up dummies.”

“I was thinking about you,” she says candidly. She’s never been one for deception.

“Yeah, I can imagine. At least you can hit this thing.”

“I’ll be able to hit you one day,” Tiffany says confidently. “Just you wait.”

“Okay, I look forward to it.” Jessica sounds indulgent, amused, but also, like a part of her can imagine it and is relishing the fight they would be able to have on equal terms one day.

“And…you’ll help me?” Tiffany asks, a little hesitantly.

“I’ll help you,” Jessica replies. “I don’t want you getting yourself killed out there.”

“And then you’ll get blamed, right?”

Jessica’s smile is humourless, and it makes Tiffany feel a strange, prickling sensation, not a chill but close to it.

“You’re my partner.”

Tiffany can tell that Jessica hasn’t exactly had a great track record when it comes to her partners, and she’s determined to be different.

 

“Keep your feet a little wider apart. A little, I didn’t tell you to do the splits.”

“Bend your knees more, but keep your back straight. Geez, I’ve seen grandmothers who are more limber than you.”

“Relax your shoulders – no, now you’re slouching. Okay, now you look like a military sergeant. There’s a thing called balance, you know?”

Tiffany shoots Jessica a glare, and then reminds herself to work on them because instead of intimidating Jessica, her glares just seem to amuse her. “Are you helping me or insulting me?” she grumbles.

“Can’t I do both?”

“We’ve been working on posture for the past two hours.”

“Yes, because you have terrible posture. How are you going to learn to fight when you can’t even maintain a proper fighting stance?”

“I feel like I’m Karate Kid or something.”

Jessica’s mouth curls up a little. “I think if Miyabi had you as a student, he would just call it quits and go be a hermit or something.”

Tiffany ignores the first part. “A hermit?”

“Doesn’t he look kind of like a hermit?”

“I think you’re the hermit. You’ve been sitting there with your phone for the whole day. Can’t you, you know, get up and help me?”

Jessica raises an eyebrow. “I’m helping you right now. I don’t see why I need to stand up for that. Come on, show me move number nine again.”

Tiffany takes a breath, adjusts her stance the way Jessica has been ‘teaching’ her for the past two hours, and runs through the move for the umpteenth time.

This time, she actually gets an approving sort of nod from Jessica. “Not bad.”

From Jessica, those two words are practically a praise-filled speech. Tiffany can’t help but brighten.

“Not great either,” Jessica continues. “You always favour your right side too much. Your movements are off balance, and that’s really easy to exploit.”

“Yeah, I know.” Tiffany exhales and brushes her hair away from her eyes. “I’ve been working on my left side, but I just can’t seem to improve much.”

“You’re set in your ways,” Jessica says simply. “It’s hard to change habits.”

Tiffany has a feeling she isn’t just talking about training. “So what should I do?”

“It’s a common problem. There are lots of specific training regimens to correct it.” Jessica puts her phone down, stretching her arms over her head. Her shirt rides up, revealing a strip of pale skin at her waist. “Okay, I think it’s time to take a break from this hand-to-hand combat stuff.”

What do you need to take a break from, you’ve been sitting there all day. Tiffany moves a little gingerly; her muscles are aching, who knew it was so much work just to maintain different stances for a few hours?

Then again, Jessica has been…helpful, Tiffany supposes, in her own sarcastic, mocking way, and she has been giving Tiffany advice the whole afternoon. (Tiffany wanted to start bright and early, but Jessica said her day never starts earlier than noon, and that was that.) Tiffany knows she should be grateful, and she is, she just needs to dig a little to find her gratefulness. A few stories underground.

“Tiffany?” Jessica snaps her fingers in front of her face. “Are you there?”

Tiffany doesn’t like it when people do that, and she reaches out automatically to grab Jessica’s wrist, but Jessica’s too quick for her and moves her arm away before Tiffany’s hand even comes all the way up.

“You should keep your hands to yourself,” Jessica suggests briskly. “My body reacts on its own to hostile contact. I wouldn’t want to injure you again.”

“Hostile contact,” Tiffany repeats incredulously. “How was that hostile contact? It’s not like I was trying to hit you.”

“What difference does it make?” Jessica says in that bored drawl of hers. “You would never be able to hit me anyway.”

Tiffany feels anger start to flare low in her stomach again, but she wills it away and treats the fire as motivation instead, motivation to work harder and be better so one day she would make Jessica eat her words, so they would be able to stand and fight beside each other as equals.

“That’s why you’re helping me, right?” she says, in a voice so even it surprises herself.

The eyebrow comes up again. “So you can hit me?”

“How can I protect you if I’m not even close to your level?”

“Protect me,” Jessica repeats, with a humourless chuckle. “I don’t need your protection.”

“Well, of course right now my protection wouldn’t do you any good, but one day I’ll be good enough to protect you.” Tiffany looks at Jessica with clear, steady eyes. “You don’t believe me, partner?”

Jessica looks rather speechless, an expression Tiffany has never seen on her before. Then she shakes her head, a small smile on her lips. “Why don’t you work on protecting yourself first? How are you with a gun?”

“A gun?”

“Yeah, you know, a weapon that you shoot with. Usually bullets, but—”

Jessica would be a lot easier to get along with if she didn’t turn every other sentence into an opportunity for insults. Then again, she probably wouldn’t be Jessica otherwise.

“I know what a gun is.”

“Do you know how to use it?”

What’s the point of having a gun in your hand if you can’t even use it, little girl?

Is it really that easy to pull the trigger?

Come on, why don’t you do it?

“Not well enough,” Tiffany whispers, dry and tight, caught up with the pressure of memories.

Jessica looks at her with something like speculation, or surprise, or something else entirely, in her eyes. She doesn’t ask why Tiffany’s voice dropped all of a sudden, or why her face has turned pale and strained.

“Then come on.”

“You’ll teach me how to use one?”

“I’ll teach you everything,” Jessica promises.

The prickle returns, but this time it’s warm instead of cold.

 

“Here.” Jessica takes one of the smaller, sleeker pistols and hands it to Tiffany. “I like this model.”

“You have favourites?”

“You will too, one day.”

Tiffany takes the gun. It’s heavier than she expected, cold and awkward in her grip. She hasn’t practiced her shooting in a long time, and the gun feels almost foreign in her hand.

“It won’t shoot itself, you know,” Jessica says. “There are only blanks in it anyway. You don’t need to be scared.”

“I’m not scared,” Tiffany lies. It’s partially true. She’s not scared of the gun itself; she’s scared of herself in the possession of one.

Jessica studies her for a moment, and then shrugs. “Could have fooled me.”

“Jessica—”

“It’s okay to be uncomfortable around guns. Lots of people are. It’s normal.”

It’s one of the nicest things Tiffany’s ever heard her say.

“How about you? Were you ever uncomfortable?”

“No.” Jessica takes the gun from Tiffany and spins it casually around her finger. “Guns don’t kill people. People kill people.”

Tiffany starts a little at that; it’s not the first time she’s heard that saying, but something about it, about the way Jessica says it, strikes her anyway.

“But guns make it a lot easier to kill,” Tiffany says quietly. “It feels like they exist just for that purpose.”

“You can kill a person with a gun, but you can save them with one too. It’s not about the weapon; anything can become a weapon in a person’s hand. It’s about what you do with it.” Jessica holds out the gun a foot or two in front of Tiffany: an offering.

Tiffany takes it, gripping it firmly and securely. Jessica’s right. She can kill with a gun, but she can protect with it too. She would have to do both, one day. Hopefully with Jessica by her side.

“Jessica,” she starts, her tongue feeling thick.

Jessica doesn’t reply. At first Tiffany thinks she’s ignoring her, and then she sees that Jessica has earmuffs on. Jessica notices her gaze and gestures towards the pile in the corner. Most of them are black, with a few grey pairs, and then Tiffany sees a pink pair and her eyes light up. She puts them on, a little startled by how completely they block sound out. Jessica looks at her, titling her head to the side, twitching up at the corners. Tiffany gives her a belligerent look back.

Jessica waves at her to follow, walking towards the shooting range, gun in hand. Tiffany tightens her grip on hers and falls into step behind Jessica. There’s something about the way Jessica walks; it’s not like she struts or anything, but she somehow manages to exude an aura of confidence. Even though she’s all blonde hair and delicate features, Tiffany doesn’t think anyone could take her lightly when they see her like this.

 

Jessica lifts Tiffany’s right earmuff; her breath stirs the hair at the nape of Tiffany’s neck when she murmurs in her ear. “Don’t forget to account for the recoil.”

A fine, delicate tremor spreads over Tiffany’s shoulders like a lattice of frost. She doesn’t look back at Jessica, doesn’t hear her own voice when she replies with a quiet “okay.”

She adjusts the set of her shoulders, trying to loosen up, but her muscles are tense and knotted up, and she can’t get them to relax. The gun is simultaneously too heavy and too light in her hand. She wants to hold it tighter; she wants to drop it. She wants to master her shot; she doesn’t want to be here. She doesn’t know what she wants; she knows all too well and she’s afraid of how far she’s willing to go to get it.

There’s a flash of gold in her peripheral vision, and then Jessica’s face is in front of hers, a frown creasing her brow. Tiffany sees her lips move and shape around her name: Tiffany.

She takes off her earmuffs, lets them sling loosely around her neck.

“If you don’t want to be here,” Jessica says, “you can tell me.”

Tiffany bristles. “I’m as committed as you are, okay, don’t patro—”

“That’s not what I meant,” Jessica cuts her off. “I know you’re committed. I can see it in your eyes.” She tilts her head to the side, her gaze thoughtful, almost appraising. “Maybe a little too committed.”

“So commitment is a bad thing?”

“Do you know what Sunny told me when I was a rookie? The most dangerous flaws are those which are good in moderation.”

“Sunny told you that?”

“She’s full of unexpected wisdom.”

“And you?”

Jessica’s lips tip up in a half-smirk of a smile. “I’m full of expected wisdom.”

At that, Tiffany laughs, some of the tension seeping out of her.

“You misunderstood me,” Jessica says. “When I said ‘here,’ I didn’t mean the agency. I meant literally here, the shooting range.”

“I want to be here.”

“How old were you?” Jessica suddenly asks.

Tiffany stares at her. “What?”

“How old were you when you got shot?”

Tiffany’s throat closes up. “I wasn’t shot,” she says, barely a whisper. “Nobody shot me.”

Jessica’s eyes narrow; looking into them is like looking down the barrel of a gun. Tiffany looks away.

“Who did you shoot then?”

The gun slips from Tiffany’s fingers. It clatters onto the ground with a noise that makes her flinch.

“Pick it up,” Jessica says calmly. “Pick it up, and use it. See the target as a target, a practice tool, nothing more. Or walk away.”

“And what?” Tiffany bites out. “Never come back?”

“I’m not giving you an ultimatum,” Jessica says, still maddeningly calm. “I just think those would be the two best courses of action right now. It’s up to you which one you choose.”

“I don’t like being psychoanalyzed,” Tiffany says through gritted teeth. “I would appreciate it if you refrained from doing it.”

Jessica is looking at her like she’s an interesting specimen of some sorts. Tiffany can register that even though she’s not meeting Jessica’s eyes.

“Do you know what kind of people don’t like to be psychoanalyzed?”

“People who like privacy?”

Jessica smiles. “People who have something to hide.”

Tiffany looks straight at her. “Do you like to be psychoanalyzed?”

“Of course not,” Jessica replies breezily. “I have my secrets too.”

“I don’t ask you about yours,” Tiffany says pointedly.

“Hmm, I’m sure you will one day. You just don’t know enough to ask right now.”

That’s true. Jessica is giving her that scrutinizing look again; it makes her skin crawl. What happened to the lazy Jessica who didn’t bother to say two words to her unless it was to insult her?

Tiffany crouches down slowly, picks up the gun. She tightens her fingers around it, back her thumb a little, not hard enough to pull the trigger, just to test the feel. She imagines pointing it at someone, shoulders set but not tensed, pulling the trigger. The precise hole it would make in their forehead. She wouldn’t miss, and she wouldn’t make a mess, she would…kill.

That’s why she came here, after all. To kill.

“Let’s try that again,” Jessica says, her bored drawl back. “Are you ready?”

Tiffany straightens up, one hand on the gun, one on the earmuffs dangling around her neck. She pushes them up, blocking out sound and stray thoughts.

Guns don’t kill people. People kill people.

Taut but not tensed.

Account for the recoil.

Her shot glances off the edge of the innermost ring, the one around the bull’s eye. Despite herself, Tiffany glances at Jessica.

She smiles.

 

Tiffany can’t help herself the next time she sees Sunny, blurting out a question about her maddening partner.

“Does she have multiple personality disorder or something?”

Sunny raises an eyebrow. “Jessica?”

“Yes,” Tiffany says, clipped.

“I believe the correct term is dissociative identity disorder.” Tiffany stiffens as she hears that cool drawl right behind her. “MPD is an outdated term.”

Tiffany turns around. Jessica is looking at her, an expression akin to amusement but not quite on her face.

“You should be more careful,” Jessica says. “If you let an opponent sneak up so easily on you, you wouldn’t last five minutes on the field.”

“I’ll work on it,” Tiffany says curtly.

“And no, I don’t have DID. I appreciate your concern about my mental wellbeing though.”

Tiffany has to bite down on her inner cheek so she wouldn’t say anything she regrets.

“Was there something you wanted, Jessica?” Sunny asks, a hint of a smile in her voice. “Or did you just come to eavesdrop on our conversation?”

“I wasn’t eavesdropping,” Jessica says. “I was listening. You saw me the moment I came, so if you didn’t want me to hear something, I wouldn’t have.”

Sunny laces her fingers together and rests her chin on them. “I hope your stealth skills are better than that.”

“I wasn’t trying to be stealthy. And I came here to find Tiffany, actually.”

Tiffany is actually surprised by that. “You were looking for me?”

“Is there something wrong with that?” Jessica sounds amused now. “You are my partner, after all.”

Tiffany doesn’t know how she feels upon hearing that. She looks at Jessica, but of course, Jessica’s expression doesn’t give away anything. It never does. It strikes Tiffany that even if she were to psychoanalyze Jessica, there is little she would discover.

“What do you want?” Her voice comes out harsher than she intended.

Both of Jessica’s eyebrows come up. “Is that any way to talk to your partner?”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Tiffany says sarcastically. “I must’ve picked it up from you.”

Sunny laughs. “You two bicker like a married couple.”

Tiffany and Jessica turn to stare at her at the same time. Jessica’s expression questions Sunny’s sanity, while Tiffany doesn’t know whether to laugh or splutter.

“I actually need to talk to you too,” Jessica says. Her voice is different now; the drawl is gone, every syllable seems precisely and purposefully delivered. Tiffany gets a new understanding of why Jessica has such a reputation. When she talks like this, you’re compelled to listen. “In private.”

“Sure,” Sunny says placidly. “That’s what I’m here for.”

There seems to be something between them – a secret, or a history, probably both – and Tiffany looks between them, feeling like an outsider.

“Tiffany,” Jessica says expectantly. “Do you have a minute?”

“Sure,” she says, a touch wary, more than a touch weary. “You want to talk? Let’s talk.”

 

“I realize that I haven’t been very fair,” Jessica says idly.

Tiffany isn’t sure she’s hearing Jessica correctly. Is Jessica admitting that she’s capable of wrongdoing?

“You were right, about being psychoanalyzed,” Jessica continues. “Nobody likes it. I especially hate it, actually, not that psychoanalyzing has generally gotten people far with me.”

“What does get people far with you?”

Jessica smiles a little. “It’s not something I can help,” she says, completely bypassing Tiffany’s question. “I tend to do it without realizing. I was a psychology student, before.”

Tiffany hadn’t been expecting that piece of knowledge at all. “You were?”

“You don’t have to sound so surprised.” Despite her words, Jessica sounds amused instead of offended. “The human mind is a fascinating thing, isn’t it?”

“I don’t understand your mind at all.”

“You’re not supposed to.”

“Is that what psychology taught you?” Tiffany asks. “How to hide?”

“Is that what you think I’m doing? Hiding?”

“I don’t know what you’re doing.” Tiffany lets herself be honest. “I don’t know you.”

Jessica looks impassive. “You’re not supposed to.”

“I thought we’re supposed to be partners.”

“We are,” Jessica says. “Partners. Not friends. You don’t have to know me, you just have to be able to work with me.”

Tiffany feels too tired to be frustrated. It’s clear that she isn’t going to get anywhere with Jessica, so why is she even bothering?

“Is that what you wanted to talk about?” Tiffany asks. “If so, I get your message.”

“No, I wanted to talk to you about your past.”

“My past?” Tiffany repeats.

“Yes.” Jessica’s eyes are steely. “I need to know what happened in your past. Why you’re afraid of guns. Why you’re here.”

“Are you kidding me?” Tiffany says incredulously. “You just told me to leave you alone, and then you turn around and ask me about my past?”

Jessica doesn’t bat an eyelash. “I didn’t tell you to leave me alone. I told you that you don’t have to know me as a person. And I’m not asking to know you as a person. I’m asking to know you as an agent. As my partner.”

Tiffany doesn’t know what to say to Jessica. She’s – she’s just something else.

“You don’t have to tell me right now, but I need to know before we have a mission together. If you freeze up on the field, then I can’t—”

“You don’t have to make me sound so unstable,” Tiffany says through gritted teeth. “Do you think Sunny would send me out there if I was?”

“I don’t pretend to understand Sunny’s decisions. She does what she has to do, and I do what I have to do.”

Tiffany bites back a sigh. “I don’t know what you want from me, Jessica.”

Jessica’s eyes are, at the same time, clear and fathomless. “I want to know the truth.”

“The truth?” Tiffany muses. “Do you think I know the truth?”

“You don’t?”

“I came here to find the truth.”

“I thought you came here to kill,” Jessica says casually.

Tiffany has to fight the way her body tenses, coils up. Her fight or flight instinct is acting up, and she doesn’t know which one she wants to do. “I thought you said you weren’t going to psychoanalyze me anymore.”

“Excuse me.” Jessica doesn’t sound apologetic in the slightest. “Old habits die hard.”

“Why don’t you just ask Sunny about me? That’s why you wanted to talk to her, isn’t it?”

“I don’t want Sunny to tell me about you. I want you to tell me.”

“Well, I don’t want to,” Tiffany says in a clipped voice.

Jessica doesn’t seem bothered. “I thought you wouldn’t.”

“Why don’t you tell me about you?” Tiffany fires back. “Why did Sunny stick you with me? What happened in your past?”

Jessica gives her a very cold look. “I told you that I don’t have a good track record with partners. I haven’t had a long-term partner for the past two years.”

“Right.”

“I did have a partner who I worked well with two years ago.” Jessica’s eyes cloud over with memory. “Things—didn’t end well. A mission went wrong.”

“Oh.” Tiffany swallows. “She—?”

“She’s gone,” Jessica says flatly. The look in her eyes makes Tiffany almost afraid to press the subject.

“Am I…like her?” she asks hesitantly. “Is that why Sunny…”

“Are you like her?” Jessica repeats, with a laugh. “You’re nothing like her. She was quiet and steady and precise. You’re—not.”

Tiffany doesn’t miss Jessica’s use of the past tense. Something inside her softens. Jessica lost her partner, clearly someone important to her. Maybe that’s why she is the way she is. She clearly has trust issues. She doesn’t want to let anyone in, probably because she’s afraid of losing them.

“You’re an awful hypocrite,” Jessica says.

“What?”

“You say you don’t like to be psychoanalyzed, and that’s exactly what you’re doing to me.”

“I took psychology classes too.”

“You’d be amazed,” Jessica says slowly, “how poorly classes prepare you for real life. The real world out there isn’t like what books and teachers tell you.”

Tiffany smiles. “That’s what I have you for, right?”

Jessica gives her a long look. “Right,” she says slowly. “That’s what you have me for.”

 

A/N: There’s this big time skip. I have no idea what I had planned in between, but JeTi are much, much closer now and on a mission where they walk into a trap.

 

The woman is small and lithe, with pale skin and short black hair tipped in green. There’s something child-like about her face, a kind of innocence that rubs Tiffany the wrong way for no reason she can explain.

At the sight of her, Jessica’s eyes widen. All the colour drains out of her face, and her breath escapes her in an audible whoosh.

“Taeyeon.”

She knows their enemy?

“Hello, Jessica,” Taeyeon says calmly. “I haven’t seen you in a while. How are you?”

Jessica’s eyes narrow, and her hands clench into fists by her side. She looks—enraged. Tiffany has never seen her look so angry, or so anything. Jessica isn’t prone to showing extreme emotions.

“You dyed your hair,” Taeyeon says. Her voice is very pleasant. She’s really quite pretty, now that Tiffany’s looked at her a little longer. “Blonde is a nice look on you.”

Jessica doesn’t say anything. She looks like she wants to spring at Taeyeon and rip out.

Taeyeon’s eyes flicker to Tiffany. “Your partner, I’m assuming. And here I thought you were going to go solo forever.”

“Partners haven’t always been very good to me,” Jessica says through gritted teeth.

A flicker of something crosses Taeyeon’s face. Irritation? Regret? “Aren’t you going to introduce me to your new partner?” she says, still pleasantly. “I’m guessing you haven’t told her anything about me.”

“Tiffany.” Jessica keeps her eyes on Taeyeon. She’s clearly ready to spring into motion any second now. “Be on your guard. She’s incredibly dangerous. Don’t attack her, you’re no match for her.”

“Tiffany, is it?” Taeyeon asks. She hasn’t moved; she looks perfectly relaxed. Tiffany can’t see any bulges on her indicating weapons, but she knows better than to believe that. If Jessica says she’s dangerous, then she is. (She ignores the sting she felt when Jessica said “you’re no match for her.”)

“Hi,” Tiffany says curtly. “I would say it’s nice to meet you, but I don’t like to lie.”

Taeyeon smiles. “I’m Taeyeon. Since Jessica won’t tell you about our history, I guess I’ll have to.”

“Tiffany, remember what we came for,” Jessica says. Her voice is strained. The anger has disappeared from her expression, and replacing it is—fear? No, Tiffany must be reading her wrong. She’s never seen Jessica afraid before. “I’ll get her. You get the package.”

Taeyeon’s expression tightens. “You didn’t think it was going to be so easy, did you?”

Ten people in black appear seemingly out of nowhere, flanking Taeyeon. Casually, almost lazily, she reaches down, pulling a gun out of some hidden pocket. She points it directly at Tiffany.

“You could never beat me,” Taeyeon says. “Maybe you can now. We can try. Your partner can watch.”

Jessica looks at Tiffany, and there’s no mistaking it now, there’s fear in her eyes. Tiffany knows she isn’t afraid for herself. Jessica’s afraid for her.

“This isn’t about the package, is it?” Jessica asks wearily. “This was all a trap. You’re after me.”

Taeyeon smiles again. Tiffany thinks, suddenly and viciously, that she hates her. “You’ve always been bright.”

“Thank you.” Jessica is cool now, detached.

Tiffany realizes that they’re probably going to die here. It was supposed to be a simple mission. It was supposed to be low-risk. They can’t get Jessica, she thinks. She’s too good for them. She can escape; she can get out of here.

No. She can, but she won’t. Jessica is going to try and protect her. She won’t run and leave Tiffany here.

And then they’ll both die.

Tiffany steps closer to Jessica and whispers into her ear. “Run. Forget about me. Get out of here.”

Jessica looks at her sharply. She doesn’t bother to lower her voice. “I’m not going to leave you.”

“How sweet,” Taeyeon says, clearly amused. “Sica, have you replaced me so easily?”

Jessica flinches at the nickname. Tiffany has never heard anyone call her that before. Taeyeon sounds almost…fond.

A terrible realization strikes Tiffany.

“You—” She stares at Taeyeon, and then at Jessica. “I thought your old partner was dead.”

“My old partner is dead,” Jessica says flatly. “She’s dead to me. The person standing in front of us isn’t my old partner. She’s just a back-stabbing, heartless traitor.”

Taeyeon’s expression tightens. “I see your tongue is as sharp as ever.”

 

A/N: They got captured and were held separately. Tiffany gets an unexpected visitor.

 

“You—?”

“They need something from Jessica.” Taeyeon’s expression is anxious. “They were going to take you and use you as bait to get to her. I convinced them not to.”

“You expect me to believe a word you say?”

“I don’t expect you to believe me.” Taeyeon slips something small into her palm, something that feels like a piece of wire. Tiffany curls her fingers around the makeshift lockpick. “You don’t have to trust me. You have to get Jessica out.”

Tiffany stares at her. This has to be a trap. Taeyeon is playing mind games with her.

“I can’t free you directly, that would be too suspicious.” Taeyeon pulls a flat, silver object out of her pocket, some kind of weapon. A blade. She pulls up Tiffany’s shirt and tucks it into her waistband. It’s cold against her skin, but so thin it’s not much of a bother otherwise. Tiffany is too astonished to struggle. “I would give you a gun, but you could’ve hidden that somehow, you couldn’t have hidden a gun.”

“I prefer knives anyway,” Tiffany says without thinking.

Taeyeon is frowning; she still looks anxious. “They’re going to hurt Jessica. I can’t protect her from that without blowing my cover.”

“Your cover?”

“I’m a double agent,” Taeyeon says briskly. “I started ‘feeding them information’ almost three years ago. I finally got them to trust me on the mission with Jessica. It was a set-up from the beginning, but not the set-up Jessica thought.”

Tiffany’s mind is spinning. “You shot her.”

“I had to.” Taeyeon looks pained. “But I didn’t kill her. If I wanted to kill her, she would be dead.”

Tiffany thinks about Jessica’s deadly accuracy. Thinks about the utter betrayal in Jessica’s eyes when she looked at Taeyeon. She shouldn’t believe Taeyeon, she can’t. She does.

“Does Sunny know?”

“Of course she does. She sent me here.”

“Then why didn’t she tell Jessica? Why didn’t—”

“We don’t have time to chat,” Taeyeon interrupts. “If my cover is blown, we’re both dead.” Her frown deepens. “And worse, Jessica will be too.”

Tiffany looks at her, and really sees her then. How her supposed betrayal was really an ultimate act of loyalty. How it must have pained her terribly to shoot her partner, her friend, and leave her for dead. How she had to hurt Jessica to protect her.

“You love her,” Tiffany says, without thinking about it.

Taeyeon gives her a strange look. “She was my partner. Of course I care about her.”

No, Tiffany thinks. That’s not what I mean. You love her. She recognizes the expression in Taeyeon’s eyes. She knows it all too well.

“I’m going to tell you how to get to where they’re holding Jessica,” Taeyeon says. “The security will be—ridiculous. You’re probably just going to get captured again, and I won’t be able to save you a second time.”

Tiffany’s jaw clenches. “I won’t get caught,” she says. “I’ll save her.”

“I would go with you, if I could.” Tiffany can tell from Taeyeon’s face, how much she wants to, how worried she is for Jessica. “But Sunny needs me here.”

“I didn’t know Sunny was this…” Manipulative. Ruthless.

Taeyeon’s mouth twists into a ghost of a smile. “Sunny does what she has to. The agency is greater than any agent.”

Tiffany admires her greatly then. She knows she could never do what Taeyeon did, give up what Taeyeon did. She admires her and she pities her.

Taeyeon whispers the directions to Jessica to her, along with when the guards change shift and what she has to watch out for. She repeats everything twice. Tiffany locks onto every piece of information; she won’t forget any of it. She’ll save Jessica, no matter what.

Taeyeon finishes talking and looks at Tiffany for a long moment. Her eyes are soft and sad, but they don’t give away much. Tiffany wonders if Jessica got this from her.

“Here,” Taeyeon says. She takes something out of her hair – a pin, with a glittery blue butterfly – and slides it into Tiffany’s, carefully tucking it into place so it can’t be seen.

“What are you—”

“A last resort,” Taeyeon says. “There’s a hidden needle, laced with a strong tranquilizer. Press down on the wings, and it’ll spring out.”

Tiffany has to laugh; the sound is rather hysterical. “Even your jewellery is a weapon.”

Taeyeon gives that non-smile again. “Anything can be a weapon, if you know how to use it.”

“She could be dead, right?” Tiffany asks. “We could be making all these plans to save her, and she could be dead.”

“She could be,” Taeyeon agrees.

“You don’t think she is.”

“Do you?”

Tiffany swallows. “I’d know,” she says quietly, “if she weren’t here anymore.”

Taeyeon gives her an inscrutable look. “You love her too.”

Tiffany’s eyes widen. Her pulse races, for a second.

“I trust you,” Taeyeon says, sounding suddenly very old and very tired. “I trust you with Jessica’s life.”

 

“Taeyeon, you—”

“I’ve spent too much time here. I can’t stay any longer. I’ve done a lot for them, and they trust me for the most part, but they haven’t forgotten where I’m from.”

“The important thing is that you don’t forget.”

“Jessica acts tough, but she’s very fragile, actually,” Taeyeon says out of nowhere. “She won’t let you, but you have to protect her.”

“I don’t need you to tell me that. I know, and I will.”

“One more thing,” Taeyeon says. “You can’t tell her about my role in this.”

“What? Of course I’m going to tell her.”

“You can’t tell her,” Taeyeon repeats, steel in her voice. “I wouldn’t have told you myself, but you wouldn’t have believed me otherwise. You know what Jessica is like. If she found out, she would think I’m a victim, and try to save me.”

Yes, Tiffany does know what Jessica’s like. She knows how kind and brave and selfless she is, how big her heart is under that icy exterior.

“Besides,” Taeyeon adds. “Jessica needs to let me go. It’s better if she thinks that I’m dead.”

Tiffany doesn’t know what to say. She feels very small next to Taeyeon, next to how much she’s sacrificed. Not just for the agency, but for Jessica.

“I can’t give you anything more.” Taeyeon walks to the door, her steps slow and dragging. “Good luck.”

“Taeyeon,” Tiffany blurts out impulsively.

Taeyeon doesn’t turn around. She’s slightly hunched over, like she’s weighed down by something. By everything.

“Thank you,” Tiffany whispers.

“Don’t tell her,” Taeyeon says. “Give me your word.”

Tiffany swallows. She wants to protest, wants to argue that Jessica’s been hurt terribly by Taeyeon’s supposed betrayal, that she still cares about Taeyeon and she deserves to know. But another part of her, a small, selfish part, doesn’t want Jessica to know. Doesn’t want Jessica to know how much Taeyeon gave up for her and realize that in comparison, Tiffany can’t measure up.

She’s ashamed of that part, but she can’t push it away.

Taeyeon is looking at her now. “Tiffany.”

“I won’t,” she whispers. “You have my word.”

Taeyeon nods. Tiffany suddenly has a feeling that this is the last time she’ll ever see her. She only met her today, and under terrible circumstances at that, but she feels a strange connection to her. They’re linked by their love for Jessica.

“I trust you,” Taeyeon says, a reassurance, a reminder, and then she’s out the door – she moves like Jessica (or maybe Jessica moves like her), with grace and unsettling pace – locking it behind her.

Tiffany’s head drops, her forehead meeting the cool steel of her handcuffs. She takes a breath, tasting fear in the back of – not for her own life, but for a far more important one – and swallows it down.

There’s no time for fear now.

 

A/N: Sooooo somehow TaeNySic are all saved and back at headquarters. Idk how this happened lmao. Also I lol at how I didn’t write any of the action scenes. It’s telling.

 

Jessica bites her lip, her expression vulnerable, almost childish, suspended between hope and disbelief. “You were a double agent? It was all a plan?”

Taeyeon is still almost frighteningly pale and wan; even a nod seems to tire her.

Jessica stares at Taeyeon, unblinking, unmoving. Tiffany looks from her to Taeyeon, and suddenly feels very insignificant, almost invisible.

Jessica turns to Tiffany. “You knew, didn’t you?”

Taeyeon coughs. “I made her promise not to tell you.”

“Why not?” Jessica looks angry now. That’s a more familiar expression on her. “Why didn’t you ever tell me?”

Taeyeon closes her eyes. “It was safer if you didn’t know.”

“I don’t give a damn about safety,” Jessica says in a low voice. “I never even told Sunny that you shot me. I thought – I didn’t want them to go after you.”

“Jessica,” Taeyeon says softly.

“I didn’t know that it was Sunny’s doing all along.” Jessica touches Taeyeon’s arm. “It must have been so hard on you, these past two years.”

“No, don’t go imagining terrible scenarios. They treat their agents pretty well.”

“Why didn’t you ever tell me?” Jessica repeats, her voice small and young.

That’s when Tiffany leaves. She heads out of the room, neither of them noticing, and she can’t resist looking back as she’s at the door.

Taeyeon is coughing weakly, a hand held to her chest. Jessica brushes her hair away from her face, looks at her with concern, and guilt, and—

Tiffany turns around and walks away.

 

It’s not a surprise when Tiffany finds herself in the training room where they first sparred. Even though her body is still sore and aching, she has an urge to set up some training dummies and work on her combat skills. She’s halfway through assembling one when she hears a familiar voice.

“What is with you and beating up dummies?”

Tiffany doesn’t turn around. “I’m not beating anything up.”

“Do you want to be?”

When Tiffany doesn’t answer, Jessica comes closer to her. She can hear her footsteps approaching, can almost feel Jessica’s breath at her ear when she speaks.

“Tif—”

“Shouldn’t you be with Taeyeon right now?” Tiffany blurts out.

Jessica sounds confused. “What?”

“I mean, she’s hurt. I thought you would have wanted to stay with her longer.”

“Tiffany.” Jessica’s voice is soft now. “I think you’re misunderstanding me.”

“With what?”

“Taeyeon is—a good friend, and my old partner, and she means a lot to me.” Jessica makes a clicking sound with her tongue. “Tiff, why won’t you look at me?”

Tiffany raises her eyes. “I can’t compare to her,” she says in a small voice. “She’s a better agent than me, and a better partner for you, and—”

“This isn’t a competition.” Jessica’s eyes are shadowed by insomnia and stress, and even her hair looks duller, closer to brass than gold. She’s still so beautiful. Tiffany can’t look away from her. “I care a lot about Taeyeon, but she isn’t the one that I want.”

“But—”

“But nothing.” Jessica reaches for her, takes her hand and holds it. “Jealousy is a cute look on you, but insecurity isn’t.”

“Jessi.” Tiffany looks at her, helpless with emotion and her inability to express them. You deserve the best, and I’m not it, she wants to say. I don’t want you to choose me and then regret it, because I’d rather not have you at all than have you and then lose you, she can’t bear to say.

Somehow, “I love you” comes out instead.

Jessica looks at Tiffany like she’s unsure she’s really here, like she thinks that she’s still in that cell, being pumped with a toxic cocktail of drugs that rendered her incapable of discerning reality from fantasy. Like Tiffany’s the material of dreams, and she isn’t sure she’s awake.

Tiffany kisses her and tells her it’s okay, I’m here. I’m real. I’m yours.

And Jessica smiles.

“I love you too.”

 

Epilogue:

“Agent Kim,” Sunny says crisply. “Welcome back.”

Taeyeon smiles a little. She still looks tired and pale, but thankfully she seems all right on her feet. “It’s good to be back,” she says quietly.

“Taeyeon.” Sunny’s voice is softer now. “I can’t express how grateful I am, for everything.”

“You don’t have to be grateful, I was doing my job,” Taeyeon says. “I almost got a bunch of your agents killed,” she adds, glancing at Jessica and Tiffany. “You aren’t going to thank me for that, are you?”

“The important thing is everyone’s safe now,” Sunny says firmly, “and a great deal of that is thanks to you.”

“I was doing my job,” Taeyeon repeats. Her cool, polite expression softens into something warmer, younger. “And hey, you know I always believed in actions over words. What happened to that dinner you were talking about before?”

“You just want to get food from me.”

Taeyeon raises an eyebrow. “What else are you good for?”

“Hey, I’m your boss, you know, have some respect.”

Taeyeon’s forehead furrows. “How is your uncle?”

Sunny’s expression doesn’t change. “Still the same. The doctors have more or less given up hope.”

Tiffany has no idea what they’re talking about. She glances at Jessica, who makes a face Tiffany recognizes as I’ll tell you later.

“You’ve been doing a great job,” Taeyeon says. “I’m sure he would be proud of you.”

“Have I done a great job?” Sunny wonders. “I took away two years of your life – almost your whole life, with Jessica and Tiffany thrown into the grave too.”

“But that didn’t happen,” Jessica says.

“Yeah, we’re all here,” Tiffany says brightly, “with all our limbs attached too. I think that’s a pretty great accomplishment.”

“See Sunkyu, you should feel accomplished,” Taeyeon says.

Sunny scowls at her. “Don’t call me that.”

“Sorry.” Taeyeon chuckles, which turns into a cough that has her putting a hand to her chest. Sunny leans forward, as if to reach out to her, and Jessica tenses up. “I’m fine,” Taeyeon says. “No need to worry.”

“You’d say you were fine even if you were halfway to death,” Sunny says with reproach.

“Is that where you picked it up from?” Tiffany whispers to Jessica.

“I don’t do that,” Jessica says, sounding affronted.

“You do it every single time you get injured!”

“Well, obviously I’m not halfway to death every time I get injured, so I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Stop twisting my words. You know what I mean.”

“Do I? Your words don’t always make a lot of sense, Tiff.”

Tiffany gives the very mature retort of sticking out her tongue.

Sunny lightly clears , and both Tiffany’s and Jessica’s heads whip towards her like guilty schoolchildren caught by the teacher.

“You two,” Sunny sighs. “You haven’t heard a word I said, have you?”

“Sorry,” Tiffany says immediately, while Jessica says, “Nope.”

Sunny sighs again, and Tiffany grins at Jessica, who smiles back.

 

Extra/Deleted Scenes:

A/N: I had this written before the Taeyeon arc, so it was originally part of the plot but then I couldn't really fit it in.

“Why did you do that?” Jessica breathes, her face pale, stricken.

“What?” Tiffany inhales, which hurts her ribs, and she can’t help a small grimace.

Jessica winces too. “You took a bullet for me.”

“Yeah, I know. I was there.”

Jessica gives a low chuckle. “Now you sound like me.”

“What?”

“You took a bullet for me,” Jessica repeats. “Why?”

“Why? That’s such a stupid question, Jessica, and you’re not stupid.” Tiffany tries to continue talking, but she runs out of breath and she starts coughing, which hurts her ribs even more. “Ow,” she says in a small voice.

“Tiffany.” Jessica sounds more anxious than Tiffany’s ever heard her. “You almost died. For me.”

“I’m fine now,” Tiffany says, knowing she’s stretching the truth.

“You almost died,” Jessica says again. “You understand that, don’t you?”

“Maybe I didn’t, in the spur of the moment. I wasn’t thinking about dying. I just – they shot at you, and I reacted. That’s all.”

“You could have died.” Jessica’s voice cracks at the last word. “You could have died, and what would I have done then? How could you expect me to keep on with my life?”

“Jessica,” Tiffany means to say, but her chest is in too much pain, and she can only get out the first two syllables of Jessica’s name: Jessi.

“How could you expect me to live without you?” Jessica breathes, taking Tiffany’s hands in her own. Her fingers are so cold Tiffany worries that she’s injured too, and then she realizes that Jessica is hurt almost as badly as her, just not in a way that leaves behind a physical mark.

Tiffany’s heart stutters, once, twice, and then it seems to stop for a moment. She can’t breathe, and her chest hurts more than ever.

“Jessi,” she whispers. “My chest hurts.”

An anxious line is carved out between Jessica’s eyebrows. “Your morphine pump. Do you want me to—”

Tiffany shakes her head and tips up her face silently.

Jessica leans down and brushes her lips against Tiffany’s, gently, fleetingly, like she’s worried she’ll break. Tiffany her lips, whispers, “Please.”

“Tiff, you’re hurt.”

“Yes, so stop hurting me,” she says simply.

Jessica’s eyes darken, and then she joins Tiffany on the bed and very carefully curls around her, barely touching her even though the bed is only meant to fit one. “Tiffany—”

“I swear, if you won’t kiss me, I’m going to hire someone to hit you for me.”

Jessica smiles. “Sounds ,” she says, and silences Tiffany with a firm, long, dizzying kiss.

Tiffany’s heart hitches, and this time it doesn’t hurt, not at all. In fact, she feels like she just got an extra dosage of painkillers, except she knows that it’s just Jessica, who no drug could ever come close to.

 

A/N: Just a cute lil scene.

“Your hair,” Tiffany says slowly.

“What about it?”

“It’s just – you seem like such a practical person. And your hair isn’t exactly practical.”

“I grew it out and dyed it for a mission,” Jessica explains. “I had to pose as a – well, you can imagine with this hair.”

“I like it,” Tiffany says. “It suits you.” She runs her fingers through Jessica’s hair and twirls a lock around her finger.

“I hate it,” Jessica says bluntly. “Not the colour, but the length. I like my hair right above my shoulders. It’s much less work that way.”

“Why don’t you cut it then?”

“I can’t. Sunny won’t let me. She said it might come in handy during the next mission.”

“The next mission,” Tiffany repeats. “It’ll be the two of us.”

“Yeah, it should be.” Jessica pauses. “Be prepared to dye your hair.”

Tiffany laughs. “I don’t mind. Although I don’t think blonde would suit me.”

Jessica her head to the side and gives Tiffany a look that makes her feel flushed all over even though Jessica’s eyes are trained on her face.

“You would look good with red hair,” Jessica suddenly says. “Red suits you.”

“What, like blood?”

Jessica gives her The Look. “Do you have to ruin the moment all the time?”

“Sorry,” Tiffany tells her, following the apology up with a kiss.

By the smile Jessica gives her afterwards, she’s definitely forgiven.

---

A/N: The line “the most dangerous flaws are those which are good in moderation” is lifted directly from Percy Jackson and the Last Olympian.

I realize that there are a lot of holes in the story, especially regarding the backstory. Feel free to ask me if you have any questions!