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“I’m not saying it’s a bad idea, but is it a good one?”
“It’d be more people on the team, right? It wouldn’t hurt?”
“Yeah, but—”
Tifa sighed and rolled her eyes. She allowed AVALANCHE to run their base of operations in the basement of Seventh Heaven for a multitude of reasons, but Barret asked nicely and agreed to help with dishes for a year. In return, the rebel group met to discuss plans and revolutions, all barely muffled past the creaking floorboards. Eavesdropping was never her intent, but the gang wasn’t quiet, either.
Which was why she overheard Barret mentioned how difficult it was to execute plans on a skeleton crew, which was why she then offered her help, which was why the rest of the team was arguing. True, AVALANCHE’s approach to saving the planet and knocking down Shinra was… unorthodox at best, but how else was she to avenge her hometown and the life she was robbed of? Sitting idly didn’t win battles and Tifa was no stranger to close combat.
If only that was enough.
By the time she unloaded the recent alcohol order, the pinball machine stirred and lowered. One by one, the members of AVALANCHE surfaced.
“Well,” Jessie said, shuffling to a nearby table, “that could’ve turned out better.”
Before Tifa could ask, Wedge emerged from below. “You didn’t have to be so harsh, Jessie.”
“What, me? I said I agreed with Biggs. I wasn’t the one yelling until my face turned red.” She caught Tifa’s gaze. “You… didn’t hear any of that, did you?”
Tifa flashed a tight smile. Jessie lost an inch of height, smiled nervously, and turned back to face Wedge.
Biggs was the next to return. To Jessie’s credit, his face was red, though he said nothing as he stomped to a corner table to sulk alone in.
Then last was Barret, who shuffled to the bar.
Tifa leaned into the counter. “So? How did it go?”
Barret struggled to find his voice. “Well, it wasn’t a unanimous decision.”
“We need some time to think about it,” Wedge offered, only to cut himself off once Jessie stared him down.
“This ain’t a walk in the park,” Barret continued. “We want you to be sure you mean it.”
Tifa raised an eyebrow. “Mean what?”
But she knew. As did Barret. She simply wanted him to say it.
“That your heart’s in the fight against Shinra, to save the planet.”
“Of course it is.”
Wry laughter trickled out of a corner of the room. “Is it, though?”
Biggs rose from his seat and ambled to the counter. The rest of the gang watched him, worry widening their eyes. Not Tifa, though. She rested a loose fist on one hip and waited.
“You don’t have a track record of this kind of thing,” Biggs said.
“How do you know that?” Tifa asked, more curious than offended.
“Biggs,” Barret snarled, “knock it off.”
“No,” he snapped back, emphasizing his statement with a pointed finger. “If she wants to fight back, I want to know she’s not going to crumble at a moment’s notice. I’ve seen how she reacts when Shinra soldiers are patrolling the station or when someone starts talking about the reactors after having too many drinks.”
She drew in a ragged breath. “I have my reasons. I’m sure all of you do.”
“If you say so, but my point is I don’t know if I can trust you when we’re in the thick of things. When shit hits the fan, I want to know I can count on you. I’m not going to babysit you while you have a meltdown.”
“Deal.” Tifa walked around the counter to approach Biggs proper. “And if I do have one of these meltdowns, then that’s my problem. I can handle myself, alright? I don’t need you or anyone else taking care of me.”
Short-lived laughter bubbled forth on his smirking lips. “Seriously? What’re you going to do? Make some drinks for the security guards to distract them? Have you ever fired a gun before?”
“I don’t need to.”
“Hell, I mean… look at you.” He reached out to her arm. “You’re like a twig I could break in—”
Fingertips brushed her skin. That was all it took. By the time Biggs realized the mistake he made, it was over.
Tifa spiraled her arm around his, clutched his bicep, and jerked him close to sink her knee into his gut. He doubled over and she spun in place. The momentum was enough, but her spite-fueled strength did the rest. Tifa hurled him over her shoulder with a roar, chucking him flat on his back. Biggs crashed with a pronounced thud. Even the bottles on the shelves behind the bar jostled from the abrupt motion.
Holding him in place, Tifa pinned his arm against her while securing a foot on his sternum. “I don’t need a gun,” she growled, “when I got these guns.” And she flexed her arms for emphasis.
Silence loomed in Seventh Heaven. A second later, Barret erupted with laughter. Then Jessie and Wedge joined in.
“Damn straight!” Barret howled. “That’s the good shit I was talkin’ ‘bout right there! Don’t wanna be messin’ with her! Nu-uh!”
“Ho boy.” Jessie fanned herself. “I think I’m in love.”
“Yeah, I don’t think you need to be worrying about babysitting her, Biggs,” Wedge called out. “Though now I’m worried you might need her to look after you instead.”
Biggs winced, albeit with wide eyes and blushing cheeks. “Alright… real funny. Can I….” His puppy eyes looked to Tifa. “Can I go now?”
Tifa smirked. “I don’t know.” She twisted his arm until he squealed like a chocobo. “You still think I’m not cut out for your group?”
“I never thought that!” Biggs frantically tapped the floor next to him. “Please, just let me go!”
“What, ya think this is some wrestlin’ match?” Barret cracked up. “Shinra dogs ain’t gonna let ya tap out! I’m startin’ to think we swap Tifa in to replace your pansy-ass—”
“Alright, I was wrong!” Biggs squeaked out. “Just let go! Please! We can talk it out!”
Tifa let him suffer another beat before loosening her hold. Biggs curled up on the floor, catching his breath and cradling his arm. After a moment, Tifa offered a hand to him. Biggs blinked, staring at her palm and then her kind eyes.
“If we’re going to work together,” Tifa said, “I don’t want us to be enemies. Think we can make it work?”
He didn’t respond at first, but when he did, his lips quirked. “Maybe.” Biggs clapped his hand into hers, their grips tight enough to bring any Shinra SOLDIER to his knees. “No promises, but if you fight as well as you scare the crap out of me—” Tifa hauled him back to his feet, albeit with a wobble. “—then I think I wouldn’t mind having a girl around who can kick my ass.”
Tifa smirked and tilted her head. “Is that a proposition?”
Biggs paled and cowered. Laughter filled the bar again. Tifa didn’t want it any other way.
And the next time AVALANCHE gathered for a meeting in Seventh Heaven’s basement, she locked the front doors, switched off the open neon sign, and joined them below.