Final Fantasy VII: Reflections - Book 1: Descent

TWENTY-SEVEN

The basement actually had two rooms. The steps descended from outside into the smaller one. Although it was empty and didn't look to have seen much use, it was clean. I stood there with Biggs and Tifa for a minute as we joined Wedge, who'd gotten here earlier and unlocked it for us. The place was unfinished, just a simple concrete floor and walls, with rusty iron pipes and wooden beams running across the ceiling. It was a good start, and I thought we could easily work with it and turn it into a cozy little private space for us.

"So what do you think, Jessie?" Wedge asked.

I nodded. "Looks good. We could use this room for storage, maybe as a place for us to crash, too, if we're here really late and don't feel like walking home. Or if you pass out again, Biggs."

He snorted. "Oh, come on! I haven't done that since—"

"The other night?" I finished for him, smirking. "You really should quit having those drinking contests with Barret, Biggs. He always wins, and you always wind up either on the floor or with your head down on the table, snoozing away. It's so embarrassing."

"I don't remember that..." Biggs scratched his head.

Wedge grinned. "Oh, but we do! Jessie and I had to take you home last time. Plopped you into your bed myself."

I giggled. "Wasn't easy, believe me!"

Biggs sighed. "I wondered how I wound up there with a four alarm hangover the next morning. Thanks, guys."

"Anytime," I winked. "That's what friends are for."

"What she said!" Wedge added.

We all laughed, even Biggs. He did like Tifa's famous drinks a little too much, though Barret wasn't helping by encouraging him with these macho games they played. Wedge and I had half-carried, half-dragged Biggs home that night, with him hitting on me the whole time. I hadn't thought much of it—I had dismissed it as the booze—but after our talk this afternoon, I realized it was more than that. Biggs had actually been honest in his drunken haze with all his slurred compliments about how pretty he thought I was and how he liked my eyes.

He had expressed feelings to me that he never would have revealed when he was sober. At least, until today. But only because I had pressed him about it. I hadn't wanted things to be awkward between us, and so far, anyway, Biggs seemed to be taking my gentle rebuff pretty well, and I was glad for that. I cared about him a lot.

I figured Wedge had already known Biggs was interested in me, as tight as they were, but had wisely kept quiet and left it to us to sort out. Maybe that was why he'd come here first, to give us time to do that. He wasn't really the smartest guy—and he'd be the first to admit that—but Wedge had a way of seeing things in people sometimes. He had a huge heart and was very perceptive, although he did struggle a lot to believe in himself. So I always tried to encourage him.

There was a small door on the far wall. It led into the other room, a much larger one that I figured had to be right underneath the common room itself. Like the first room, it was unfinished, but I knew we could spruce the place up a bit easily enough. The question was, how were we to get in here without anyone else knowing about it?

We had to figure that out if we were gonna turn the basement into a secret hideout for Avalanche. I had learned even in the short time I'd been here that news got around fast in the slums, and there were some people in Sector 7 that loved to gossip. Derla was the worst, and I'd had to shoo her away a few times when she'd tried to pester me with chatter or snoop on something I was doing. She was a little older than me, but not by much. And irritating as hell. Being relatively new in town, I was a prime target for her efforts to get a scoop.