crossposted from yuri_challenge, mark 2
Title: How It's Lost
Rating: PG-13
Request: FFVII: Tifa/Jessie - steel - "stronger than they look, those girls are"
Summary: Terrorism, espionage, and Sector Six: how far would you go?
Notes: 2680 words. Set a couple of years pre-game.
How It's Lost
There were certain things that you just had to deal with, living under the Plate. The eternal Mako-tinged twilight, the near-stagnant air, and the constant grinding poverty that reigned in the slums were all things that you could become used to; Tifa had found it difficult, at first, but since joining up with Avalanche it had become just another symptom of everything that was wrong with the Shinra. Once, she reminded herself every time the queue at the item store wound around the block, or when the beer in the casks the guys rolled in was soured again, this land had belonged to people who lived beneath the open sky.
The other major trouble of sub-Plate life was, in Tifa's opinion, Sector Six. Both too near and too far from the unofficial pleasure quarter of the Wall Market, her bar sometimes seemed to be a beacon for the kind of men who assumed she was going to sell them more than liquor and the occasional hot plate. These days, with at least half of Avalanche as regulars, potential troublemakers usually got tossed out on their ears before they could bother her at all, but Tifa hadn't lost the knack of spotting the customers who needed pointing towards a different kind of establishment.
It was immediately obvious, as far as Tifa was concerned, that the woman who sauntered into the bar while Barret and the others were 'out' going over plans was one of that type. The high boots, painted-on minidress, and too-bright makeup were as good as advertising, and the way she glanced around the bar at the men, swinging her hips provocatively… Tifa narrowed her eyes, set down the glass she'd been cleaning, and flipped up the countertop at the end of the bar, hurrying to confront the woman.
"Are you looking for someone in particular?" she demanded, setting her hands on her hips with as much authority as she could muster. "We don't allow… businesswomen to work in here."
"Are you sure of that, honey?" The woman looked her up and down lewdly, and Tifa fought a blush, gritting her teeth. At least it was a slow night; half her regulars would probably be only too pleased to pay for this blond tart's time.
"Very sure, thank you." She crossed her arms over her chest, wishing briefly for the security of her metal knuckles, but the woman just laughed throatily, tossing her head.
"Good for you, honey. Lemme guess, you'd be Tifa, huh?" She dipped a red-nailed hand into her cleavage, pulling out a somewhat-crumpled envelope. "Pass this on to my sweet cousin Jessie, would ya? Think Gramma wants her home sometime."
"Jessie?" Tifa blinked, trying to recalculate the situation. She knew Jessie had no family, because the other agent had told her so, which meant Avalanche business. It left a sour taste in her mouth. "Sure." Jessie was down below with the others, but there was no way to do anything about that until closing. She took the message gingerly, staring at the damp, folded envelope.
"I'll be outta your hair then, honey." The prostitute tipped her a wink, patting her familiarly on the hip, and Tifa glared around the bar as catcalls broke out from the customers. The woman just laughed, strutting back out of the door as though entirely confident that every eye would be on her.
By the time Tifa had thrown the last of the drunks out the door and locked up, she'd regained most of her equilibrium. If Avalanche was using the street girls to carry messages - well, she didn't like it much, and she'd give whatever idiot had actually sent the thing a lecture for wasting time in Six, but they were all doing what they had to. She could put up with a lot, to help the planet, and she would - but the way that woman had eyed her, that was what refused to be forgotten.
Sighing, she pulled the envelope from her pocket, studying it warily as she hopped up to sit on the glass housing of the pinball machine that doubled as the lift. The mechanism had been giving them trouble lately, and Tifa was half-convinced that it would shake her or the building to pieces one of these days if Wedge didn't get back in time to fix it.
"Tifa!" Barret hollered as soon as she hit the ground, waving his gun-arm in her direction and almost clocking Biggs in the head. Biggs yelped and ducked, and Barret swore as the plans they'd been examining fluttered off the table to pile on the floor. "Dammit - Tifa, get a look at this, would ya?"
"Sure." Squeezing past him, she dropped down on an unoccupied crate, peering at the complex tracery of the plans. "What is it?"
"This one," Jessie tapped the largest piece of paper, which kept trying to roll up at the edges, "is a copy of the proposed route for the new Mako distribution line to Junon." She glanced up with a smile at Tifa's indrawn breath. "It gets better. This one," she said triumphantly, smoothing out the smaller, much-creased paper, "is one of the old plans for Midgar's reactor system."
"You want to hit the reactors?" Tifa glanced aside at Barret's toothy grin, wondering whether this stroke of luck wasn't a bit too much to believe in. "Which one - oh hey," she interrupted herself, shaking her head and turning back to Jessie. "A street woman from Six brought this for you."
"Huh?" Jessie took the envelope, shaking her hair out of her eyes as she examined it. "Who was it?" She opened it carefully, as though the contents might bite, and Tifa shook her head, looking aside.
"She didn't give her name."
"We've got a few agents working over in the Wall Market," Biggs explained, shuffling the map along the table as Jessie pored over her message, flipping through the code book.
"Ain't got nothin' due to come in, though." Barret poked at the reactor map, squinting down at it. "Tifa, you got good eyes; think ya can work out which of those damn Mako-suckin' reactors this is meant ta be?"
"You don't know?" Tifa glanced around the table, from Barret to Biggs and Johnson and Jessie muttering codes to herself. Barret shrugged, then scratched his head.
"It don't say."
"It's kind of old," Johnson put in, crossing his arms and leaning back against the wall of the hideout. "Dates back to when they built the things, maybe; got tossed out with the trash."
"Really?" Tifa smoothed the plan out, bending to peer at the ink-scratch notations. "There are some numbers on here - A0-782?"
"The hell does that mean?" Barret complained, thumping the table.
"Part numbers?" Jessie looked up, catching Tifa's attention with the sudden brightness of her smile. "Hey, listen to this for a minute."
"What?" Tifa straightened the papers Barret had dislodged, leaning forward curiously on her elbows. Jessie dumped her notepad into the middle of the table, pointing out the two rows of figures - dates and times, Tifa realised with confusion.
"The shift schedule for the guards on the new pipeline."
"Shit!" Barret snatched the notepad up with his good hand, peering cross-eyed at the list. "How long's this good for? Where'd it come from, anyhow?"
"One of our agents from Sector Six," Jessie confirmed, and Tifa's mouth quirked despite herself. She looked away, refusing to meet Jessie's puzzled eyes.
"Shinra change their timetables every month, right?" Biggs turned to one side, rummaging behind the computer terminal for the battered notebook that served as everything from the bar's invoices to Avalanche's inventory. "It's the twenty-fifth already, near as makes no difference…"
"Then we hit 'em in four days." Barret grinned, suddenly wolfish. "Right when they're waitin' to go home. We got enough explosive to blow up the damn pipe, right?"
"There's a new batch setting up out back of Johnny's," Tifa volunteered, wrinkling her nose at the remembered smell of the chemical mixture.
"If we hit the pipeline in several places, it'll cause them more trouble and take longer to rebuild." Jessie closed her notebook with a snap, reaching for the map again. "So we're really gonna do this thing, huh?"
"Hell yeah." Barret thumped his fist on the table, pushing himself upright; Tifa scooted aside, leaning on her arms to peer down at the plans. "We're gonna save the planet, damn it."
Even at what passed for night in the slums, Sector Seven was never quiet. Tifa leaned back on her hands, staring up at the distant underside of the Plate; if she let her eyes go unfocused she could almost pretend that the fuzzy pinpoints of paint and emergency lights were stars.
"Hey, you." The roof creaked behind her, and Tifa tipped her head back, cracking her spine to see Jessie scrambling down from the main building and the open landing window to the flat-roofed extension.
"What is it? Is something wrong?" There was the potential for a great deal of trouble; everything from a wandering SOLDIER in the bar to explosives residue in the beer to one of Marlene's thankfully rare tantrums. Tifa stretched her arms over her head, pulling the tension out of her shoulders and wondering when she'd got so used to this level of stress.
"Nah." Jessie dropped down beside her with a sigh, kicking her legs out over the drop. "I finally got done with the wiring. You ready for tomorrow?"
"Of course." Tifa made a fist, staring down at the solid white of her knuckles. "It'll be good just to get out of the city."
"It's been a while, huh?" Jessie kicked the side of the building softly, shaking her head at the dull, shuddery sound. "This isn't a place for people to live, but try telling them that."
"The Shinra have taken everything else they had," Tifa murmured, flexing her fingers thoughtfully. She was in good enough shape to knock a few heads tomorrow, and if they ran into a real fight the guys had plenty of firepower.
"Yeah." Making a face, Jessie reached up and untied her ponytail, shaking her hair down around her face and digging fingers into her scalp with a sigh of relief. "Always makes me feel like I'm crawling with filth, down here."
"…yeah." Tifa bit her lip, glancing sideways. "Jess…"
"Hm?" Jessie tilted her head sideways, still combing her fingers through her hair. "What is it?" The Mako-light made her eyes more green than brown, an eerie shade of hazel.
"Do -" Tifa swallowed, shaking her head and wondering whether she really wanted to know. "Who was that girl who brought the message, anyway?"
"Huh?" Jessie frowned, then blinked. "Oh, Ella? She's been in Avalanche a while, you know. A lot of her, um, customers work for Shinra, and she sometimes gets some good info."
"Oh." Tifa plaited her fingers together, chewing on that. It left an unpalatable taste, still. "So we really do have agents over there, huh? Sector Six."
"Of course." Jessie slanted her a curious look, pulling one knee up to prop her foot on the edge of the wall. "There're Avalanche sympathisers and informants everywhere, T. What's wrong?"
"…nothing, I suppose." Tifa shook her head, looking down at her lap. "It just seems - I thought we were supposed to be the ethical ones, but if we're using the street girls aren't we just as bad as the Shinra? Sector Six…"
"T?" Jessie sounded more curious than anything, and Tifa jumped when blunt fingers wrapped around her hand, squeezing gently. "You know we don't recruit; everyone who joins up does it for a reason, right? Saving the Planet…"
"I know." Tifa ducked her head, refusing to look at her. "It's just…" How many times, since she'd come to Midgar, had she been propositioned by guys too drunk to tell Six from Seven? How many times had the pimps and madams accosted her at the market, trying to trap her into selling herself for them? She'd lost count of the times she'd had to break heads, the perverts who'd assumed she was for sale…
"The street girls know better than anyone, probably." Jessie shifted over, offering an arm, and Tifa leaned gratefully into her warmth. "What Shinra are really like. There are a handful of 'em who'll pass on info for the right price, and a couple of agents like Ella who specialise in getting information out of the bigwigs." She laughed, shoulders shaking a little. "She's a pretty high-class girl; split with Corneo a couple of years back."
"Mm." Tifa bit her lip. "I just - if you have to do it to live, it's one thing, but selling yourself for information… Why would anyone do that?"
Jessie sighed, strands of hair dancing in the exhalation. "Well, why do we go around… blowing stuff up?" she finished in a lower voice, looking around warily despite their position. Up here, they couldn't be seen from the ground, but there were plenty of places to hide. "Just how far would you go to save the Planet, T? If you thought you had to?"
"I…" Tifa lifted her head, staring; there had been something both very tired and very knowing in Jessie's voice just then. Her stomach suddenly felt like lead. "Jess - tell me you haven't…"
"Nah." Jessie laughed a little, but the sound was too brittle. "I wouldn't have the skills, you know? The worst I've done is flirt with a few guys in bars." She twisted sideways to peer up at Tifa, batting her lashes artlessly and murmuring in a suddenly throaty voice, "So how're you doing tonight?"
"Jess…" Tifa swallowed the lump in her throat, shaking her head. Jessie laughed a little more freely, looking down at herself.
"Generally I'd need more of a push-up bra for that." She sobered, looking back out at the grim green-tinged vista. "It was my choice, T. We needed the info more than we did my dignity back then. You should think about it, you know."
"I…" Tifa began, flinching; Jessie patted her on the shoulder apologetically, shaking her head.
"I didn't mean that." Sighing, she twisted a long strand of Tifa's hair around her finger. "You're young, T, but someday you'll have to figure out just how far you're willing to go for Avalanche." She didn't add or your life, but they both heard it, Tifa with a shudder.
"…Someday," she echoed under her breath, trying to stem the flood of inky memories. How far would she really go for the Planet? ….How far would she go for her father, her friends, her village? The wondering felt like knives inside her, and she wasn't sure she wanted to know.
"Maybe not ever, if you're lucky." Jessie sighed, stroking her hair absently. Tifa snuggled into her side, winding an arm around her and thinking again of the lewd invitation she'd seen in the eyes of that woman - Ella, she corrected herself. Maybe she had overreacted; she was used to being thought attractive, but Midgar was so different from home. Seedier, darker, freer. Was it changing her?
"I don't have that kind of luck," Tifa murmured, turning her face into Jessie's shoulder as though she could burrow into her warmth, never have to let go. Slipping certainties… how far would she go for herself? Jessie's fingers brushed her ribs and she flushed, glad to hide her face.
"Don't knock yourself, T." Jessie hugged her tight, then sighed, letting go and leaning back on her hands. "You're pretty good at kicking sense into anyone who looks at you funny, anyway. Think you're ready for tomorrow?"
"…Yeah." Tifa nodded shortly, dipping her head so that her hair fell forward, half-loose from its binding and hiding her face. She clenched her fist experimentally, feeling the rhythmic tensing of muscle; the one strength she'd never thought to doubt. Ready or not, she was in Avalanche for the long run. "Save the Planet, right?"
There would be time. For the Planet, for herself.
Rating: PG-13
Request: FFVII: Tifa/Jessie - steel - "stronger than they look, those girls are"
Summary: Terrorism, espionage, and Sector Six: how far would you go?
Notes: 2680 words. Set a couple of years pre-game.
How It's Lost
There were certain things that you just had to deal with, living under the Plate. The eternal Mako-tinged twilight, the near-stagnant air, and the constant grinding poverty that reigned in the slums were all things that you could become used to; Tifa had found it difficult, at first, but since joining up with Avalanche it had become just another symptom of everything that was wrong with the Shinra. Once, she reminded herself every time the queue at the item store wound around the block, or when the beer in the casks the guys rolled in was soured again, this land had belonged to people who lived beneath the open sky.
The other major trouble of sub-Plate life was, in Tifa's opinion, Sector Six. Both too near and too far from the unofficial pleasure quarter of the Wall Market, her bar sometimes seemed to be a beacon for the kind of men who assumed she was going to sell them more than liquor and the occasional hot plate. These days, with at least half of Avalanche as regulars, potential troublemakers usually got tossed out on their ears before they could bother her at all, but Tifa hadn't lost the knack of spotting the customers who needed pointing towards a different kind of establishment.
It was immediately obvious, as far as Tifa was concerned, that the woman who sauntered into the bar while Barret and the others were 'out' going over plans was one of that type. The high boots, painted-on minidress, and too-bright makeup were as good as advertising, and the way she glanced around the bar at the men, swinging her hips provocatively… Tifa narrowed her eyes, set down the glass she'd been cleaning, and flipped up the countertop at the end of the bar, hurrying to confront the woman.
"Are you looking for someone in particular?" she demanded, setting her hands on her hips with as much authority as she could muster. "We don't allow… businesswomen to work in here."
"Are you sure of that, honey?" The woman looked her up and down lewdly, and Tifa fought a blush, gritting her teeth. At least it was a slow night; half her regulars would probably be only too pleased to pay for this blond tart's time.
"Very sure, thank you." She crossed her arms over her chest, wishing briefly for the security of her metal knuckles, but the woman just laughed throatily, tossing her head.
"Good for you, honey. Lemme guess, you'd be Tifa, huh?" She dipped a red-nailed hand into her cleavage, pulling out a somewhat-crumpled envelope. "Pass this on to my sweet cousin Jessie, would ya? Think Gramma wants her home sometime."
"Jessie?" Tifa blinked, trying to recalculate the situation. She knew Jessie had no family, because the other agent had told her so, which meant Avalanche business. It left a sour taste in her mouth. "Sure." Jessie was down below with the others, but there was no way to do anything about that until closing. She took the message gingerly, staring at the damp, folded envelope.
"I'll be outta your hair then, honey." The prostitute tipped her a wink, patting her familiarly on the hip, and Tifa glared around the bar as catcalls broke out from the customers. The woman just laughed, strutting back out of the door as though entirely confident that every eye would be on her.
By the time Tifa had thrown the last of the drunks out the door and locked up, she'd regained most of her equilibrium. If Avalanche was using the street girls to carry messages - well, she didn't like it much, and she'd give whatever idiot had actually sent the thing a lecture for wasting time in Six, but they were all doing what they had to. She could put up with a lot, to help the planet, and she would - but the way that woman had eyed her, that was what refused to be forgotten.
Sighing, she pulled the envelope from her pocket, studying it warily as she hopped up to sit on the glass housing of the pinball machine that doubled as the lift. The mechanism had been giving them trouble lately, and Tifa was half-convinced that it would shake her or the building to pieces one of these days if Wedge didn't get back in time to fix it.
"Tifa!" Barret hollered as soon as she hit the ground, waving his gun-arm in her direction and almost clocking Biggs in the head. Biggs yelped and ducked, and Barret swore as the plans they'd been examining fluttered off the table to pile on the floor. "Dammit - Tifa, get a look at this, would ya?"
"Sure." Squeezing past him, she dropped down on an unoccupied crate, peering at the complex tracery of the plans. "What is it?"
"This one," Jessie tapped the largest piece of paper, which kept trying to roll up at the edges, "is a copy of the proposed route for the new Mako distribution line to Junon." She glanced up with a smile at Tifa's indrawn breath. "It gets better. This one," she said triumphantly, smoothing out the smaller, much-creased paper, "is one of the old plans for Midgar's reactor system."
"You want to hit the reactors?" Tifa glanced aside at Barret's toothy grin, wondering whether this stroke of luck wasn't a bit too much to believe in. "Which one - oh hey," she interrupted herself, shaking her head and turning back to Jessie. "A street woman from Six brought this for you."
"Huh?" Jessie took the envelope, shaking her hair out of her eyes as she examined it. "Who was it?" She opened it carefully, as though the contents might bite, and Tifa shook her head, looking aside.
"She didn't give her name."
"We've got a few agents working over in the Wall Market," Biggs explained, shuffling the map along the table as Jessie pored over her message, flipping through the code book.
"Ain't got nothin' due to come in, though." Barret poked at the reactor map, squinting down at it. "Tifa, you got good eyes; think ya can work out which of those damn Mako-suckin' reactors this is meant ta be?"
"You don't know?" Tifa glanced around the table, from Barret to Biggs and Johnson and Jessie muttering codes to herself. Barret shrugged, then scratched his head.
"It don't say."
"It's kind of old," Johnson put in, crossing his arms and leaning back against the wall of the hideout. "Dates back to when they built the things, maybe; got tossed out with the trash."
"Really?" Tifa smoothed the plan out, bending to peer at the ink-scratch notations. "There are some numbers on here - A0-782?"
"The hell does that mean?" Barret complained, thumping the table.
"Part numbers?" Jessie looked up, catching Tifa's attention with the sudden brightness of her smile. "Hey, listen to this for a minute."
"What?" Tifa straightened the papers Barret had dislodged, leaning forward curiously on her elbows. Jessie dumped her notepad into the middle of the table, pointing out the two rows of figures - dates and times, Tifa realised with confusion.
"The shift schedule for the guards on the new pipeline."
"Shit!" Barret snatched the notepad up with his good hand, peering cross-eyed at the list. "How long's this good for? Where'd it come from, anyhow?"
"One of our agents from Sector Six," Jessie confirmed, and Tifa's mouth quirked despite herself. She looked away, refusing to meet Jessie's puzzled eyes.
"Shinra change their timetables every month, right?" Biggs turned to one side, rummaging behind the computer terminal for the battered notebook that served as everything from the bar's invoices to Avalanche's inventory. "It's the twenty-fifth already, near as makes no difference…"
"Then we hit 'em in four days." Barret grinned, suddenly wolfish. "Right when they're waitin' to go home. We got enough explosive to blow up the damn pipe, right?"
"There's a new batch setting up out back of Johnny's," Tifa volunteered, wrinkling her nose at the remembered smell of the chemical mixture.
"If we hit the pipeline in several places, it'll cause them more trouble and take longer to rebuild." Jessie closed her notebook with a snap, reaching for the map again. "So we're really gonna do this thing, huh?"
"Hell yeah." Barret thumped his fist on the table, pushing himself upright; Tifa scooted aside, leaning on her arms to peer down at the plans. "We're gonna save the planet, damn it."
Even at what passed for night in the slums, Sector Seven was never quiet. Tifa leaned back on her hands, staring up at the distant underside of the Plate; if she let her eyes go unfocused she could almost pretend that the fuzzy pinpoints of paint and emergency lights were stars.
"Hey, you." The roof creaked behind her, and Tifa tipped her head back, cracking her spine to see Jessie scrambling down from the main building and the open landing window to the flat-roofed extension.
"What is it? Is something wrong?" There was the potential for a great deal of trouble; everything from a wandering SOLDIER in the bar to explosives residue in the beer to one of Marlene's thankfully rare tantrums. Tifa stretched her arms over her head, pulling the tension out of her shoulders and wondering when she'd got so used to this level of stress.
"Nah." Jessie dropped down beside her with a sigh, kicking her legs out over the drop. "I finally got done with the wiring. You ready for tomorrow?"
"Of course." Tifa made a fist, staring down at the solid white of her knuckles. "It'll be good just to get out of the city."
"It's been a while, huh?" Jessie kicked the side of the building softly, shaking her head at the dull, shuddery sound. "This isn't a place for people to live, but try telling them that."
"The Shinra have taken everything else they had," Tifa murmured, flexing her fingers thoughtfully. She was in good enough shape to knock a few heads tomorrow, and if they ran into a real fight the guys had plenty of firepower.
"Yeah." Making a face, Jessie reached up and untied her ponytail, shaking her hair down around her face and digging fingers into her scalp with a sigh of relief. "Always makes me feel like I'm crawling with filth, down here."
"…yeah." Tifa bit her lip, glancing sideways. "Jess…"
"Hm?" Jessie tilted her head sideways, still combing her fingers through her hair. "What is it?" The Mako-light made her eyes more green than brown, an eerie shade of hazel.
"Do -" Tifa swallowed, shaking her head and wondering whether she really wanted to know. "Who was that girl who brought the message, anyway?"
"Huh?" Jessie frowned, then blinked. "Oh, Ella? She's been in Avalanche a while, you know. A lot of her, um, customers work for Shinra, and she sometimes gets some good info."
"Oh." Tifa plaited her fingers together, chewing on that. It left an unpalatable taste, still. "So we really do have agents over there, huh? Sector Six."
"Of course." Jessie slanted her a curious look, pulling one knee up to prop her foot on the edge of the wall. "There're Avalanche sympathisers and informants everywhere, T. What's wrong?"
"…nothing, I suppose." Tifa shook her head, looking down at her lap. "It just seems - I thought we were supposed to be the ethical ones, but if we're using the street girls aren't we just as bad as the Shinra? Sector Six…"
"T?" Jessie sounded more curious than anything, and Tifa jumped when blunt fingers wrapped around her hand, squeezing gently. "You know we don't recruit; everyone who joins up does it for a reason, right? Saving the Planet…"
"I know." Tifa ducked her head, refusing to look at her. "It's just…" How many times, since she'd come to Midgar, had she been propositioned by guys too drunk to tell Six from Seven? How many times had the pimps and madams accosted her at the market, trying to trap her into selling herself for them? She'd lost count of the times she'd had to break heads, the perverts who'd assumed she was for sale…
"The street girls know better than anyone, probably." Jessie shifted over, offering an arm, and Tifa leaned gratefully into her warmth. "What Shinra are really like. There are a handful of 'em who'll pass on info for the right price, and a couple of agents like Ella who specialise in getting information out of the bigwigs." She laughed, shoulders shaking a little. "She's a pretty high-class girl; split with Corneo a couple of years back."
"Mm." Tifa bit her lip. "I just - if you have to do it to live, it's one thing, but selling yourself for information… Why would anyone do that?"
Jessie sighed, strands of hair dancing in the exhalation. "Well, why do we go around… blowing stuff up?" she finished in a lower voice, looking around warily despite their position. Up here, they couldn't be seen from the ground, but there were plenty of places to hide. "Just how far would you go to save the Planet, T? If you thought you had to?"
"I…" Tifa lifted her head, staring; there had been something both very tired and very knowing in Jessie's voice just then. Her stomach suddenly felt like lead. "Jess - tell me you haven't…"
"Nah." Jessie laughed a little, but the sound was too brittle. "I wouldn't have the skills, you know? The worst I've done is flirt with a few guys in bars." She twisted sideways to peer up at Tifa, batting her lashes artlessly and murmuring in a suddenly throaty voice, "So how're you doing tonight?"
"Jess…" Tifa swallowed the lump in her throat, shaking her head. Jessie laughed a little more freely, looking down at herself.
"Generally I'd need more of a push-up bra for that." She sobered, looking back out at the grim green-tinged vista. "It was my choice, T. We needed the info more than we did my dignity back then. You should think about it, you know."
"I…" Tifa began, flinching; Jessie patted her on the shoulder apologetically, shaking her head.
"I didn't mean that." Sighing, she twisted a long strand of Tifa's hair around her finger. "You're young, T, but someday you'll have to figure out just how far you're willing to go for Avalanche." She didn't add or your life, but they both heard it, Tifa with a shudder.
"…Someday," she echoed under her breath, trying to stem the flood of inky memories. How far would she really go for the Planet? ….How far would she go for her father, her friends, her village? The wondering felt like knives inside her, and she wasn't sure she wanted to know.
"Maybe not ever, if you're lucky." Jessie sighed, stroking her hair absently. Tifa snuggled into her side, winding an arm around her and thinking again of the lewd invitation she'd seen in the eyes of that woman - Ella, she corrected herself. Maybe she had overreacted; she was used to being thought attractive, but Midgar was so different from home. Seedier, darker, freer. Was it changing her?
"I don't have that kind of luck," Tifa murmured, turning her face into Jessie's shoulder as though she could burrow into her warmth, never have to let go. Slipping certainties… how far would she go for herself? Jessie's fingers brushed her ribs and she flushed, glad to hide her face.
"Don't knock yourself, T." Jessie hugged her tight, then sighed, letting go and leaning back on her hands. "You're pretty good at kicking sense into anyone who looks at you funny, anyway. Think you're ready for tomorrow?"
"…Yeah." Tifa nodded shortly, dipping her head so that her hair fell forward, half-loose from its binding and hiding her face. She clenched her fist experimentally, feeling the rhythmic tensing of muscle; the one strength she'd never thought to doubt. Ready or not, she was in Avalanche for the long run. "Save the Planet, right?"
There would be time. For the Planet, for herself.