She had been tossing and turning in bed for what seemed like hours. Edie had had enough. She rolled over to see her bedside, automated, clock read 4:36 a.m. Jupiter time. Gradually, she rose and set herself on the edge of her bed. Something's not right. She could feel it. Call it a woman's intuition. Whatever it was, it was making her anxious.
Edie sat unusually still on her bed, her ears perked at any little sound. She was unsure and uneasy; something was off about the ship, about the Bebop. The Bebop was giving off a different type of aura, not of the one Edie had grown accustomed to over the six months since coming aboard. She quickly dressed herself in a large t-shirt that engulfed her dainty, curvy body. Tonight's (or rather this morning's) t-shirt was a classic, collector's item. Earth's infamous Transformers of the mid 1980's. Edie had an eye for such artifacts and keepsakes. At feeling the numbing coldness of the floor, she nestled into her gaudy pink fluffy slippers. Edie, however, had not yet acclimated to the frigid hard floor of the Bebop. Coffee sounded delightful at a moment like this. She scratched at her dry throat. Can't go back to sleep anyways. Edie shrugged off the thought of sleep, strolled over to her door, placed her hand over the motion pad on the wall and her bedroom door shot open.
She settled in the hallway, for about a minute, maybe two, just listening. Edie listened for anything that proved out of the ordinary and in response the ship hummed in its usual harmonious tenor of machinery. Blackness blanketed the inside of the ship along with eerie silence. But what did Edie expect? That Jet would be up at a time like this? She snorted at the high regards. She was usually up before him.
Hmm... Edie muttered to herself. The sinister feeling that Edie attempted to offset proved to still hinder her though she was no longer in her room. Yet she continued onward towards the stairs. Climbing the stairs to the second floor common area, she didn't bother to snoop around despite her hunch. She despised the fact that the lights in the Bebop were still not automated by motion detection.
Forget it, she reasoned in regards to the lights. She didn't intend on turning on every light in the Bebop to scare away her boogie man. And the meager lighting of Jupiter's 63 moons gave off sufficient enough lighting for many of Bebop's walkways. Edie strolled on past the common area, or as Daddy Jet claimed it the living room, and its ugly yellow couches to the next main hall that contained the kitchen, the toilet and Jet's quarters. The main hall also housed many other rooms in its branching hallways, but Edie didn't deem them important.
The kitchen was the first door to the right, allowing her the freedom to walk further without aid of Bebop's light fixtures. The kitchen light flickered on and Edie went straight to the coffee pot. She had grown to crave her coffee black, that's of course if there is no tea. She preferred black tea or even better, green tea. Jet said it was a waste of precious Woolong if she was the only one drinking it. In a matter of minutes, Edie's black coffee brewed and was ready to drink. She contemplated setting aside a cup of coffee for Jet but...eh... she was just too lazy. Couple of sips of coffee doused her with some much needed caffeine. Yet, the caffeine did not quite cure the sense of unrest nor her zombie-like sluggishness. How bout I just hang out? Maybe it will help soothe my nerves...Did I leave my stupid gun over there? Edie recalled disassembling and cleaning her gun just the other day in the common area. Thus, onward she continued, dragging herself back to the common area.
It appeared extremely somber in the common area, much more than it did previously, when Edie had passed it on her way to the kitchen. She still didn't bother to turn on the lights. Alternatively, she prayed that she wouldn't jab her toe or ram her hip into anything on her way to the big yellow couch. At feeling the edge of the couch and clarifying that it was indeed the couch, Edie figured to throw herself on it, per the norm. But instead of flopping onto the comfort of the dirty, old couch, she found herself in pain. She had flopped onto something hard.
"Owww!"
She yelped into the dark and was in utter shock to discover that she was not the only one yelping in pain. She had not flopped onto something, she had flopped onto someone.
Edie quickly realized that the body that she had plopped herself on to, was definitely not the body of Jet. So it was just a natural reflex to be on the offensive. Luckily for her she had, indeed, left her faithful 44 Magnum in the common area. In fact, she had left it on the chair that sat across from the big yellow couch. Edie quickly equipped herself with her Magnum and pointed at the sole direction in which she heard the masculine whine. She couldn't see a fucking thing, but her now proven-correct woman intuition told her that he remained there. You could cut the tension with a knife. Both didn't dare speak a word nor make any sudden movements. Just as she had psyched herself into calling out to the intruder, the common area light abruptly turned on. Both the stranger and Edie faced towards the doorway to see Jet Black, in pajamas, with his trusty Walther P99 within the grasp of his right hand.
