I do not own anything to do with 'Night Court.' No money. No rights. Nothing at all. All I get out of it is amusement, and some annoyance that the powers that be will not put out the seasons any faster than they already have.

Eve didn't like night. Especially in New York. And especially in Manhattan.

Night time was lonely. And even in late fall, it was damn freezing!

And, she never could quite understand why this city was just as bustling at 11 in the evening as it was at 11 in the morning. Where did all those people have to be so late at night, anyway? If she had her druthers, she'd be in bed, the heat kicked up on high, with a good book.

But, that would be if she could afford to run her thermostat that high.

She fought her way up the steps of the courthouse, holding her only warm coat tightly about her to keep out the frigid breeze. She passed a beggar on the steps, holding out his hand for money. When she first started working at the courthouse, she took pity on any beggar she came across and gave them change. However, she also found out that some of those same people make as much begging for change in a day as she made in a week as a court reporter.

So, she stopped the free handouts. But, not without a guilty thought to what her grandmother would say about not helping those in need.

Obviously, her grandmother had never left Bourbon County, Kentucky.

Plus, she could use the extra money. Living alone in New York City was taking up about as much as she made. And to think, when she accepted the job, she thought she would be rich. It paid so much more than her previous job at the courthouse back home.

Ha!

She waited on the elevator in the dim lobby of the courthouse with several other people. As usual, the heater worked sporadically, alternating between cool air with occasional hotter-than-hell blasts.

The courthouse was a typical government building in need of typical everyday repairs – new paint, new electrical system and basically a top-to-bottom cleaning job by officials highly trained in toxic waste.

At least the courthouse in Kentucky where she started out had some small-town charm, a historic market adorning the lawn outside. The monstrosity here was just another dull concrete building in a city chock-full of them.

And, at least the kindly old judge back home who she had known since her toddler years would never have cornered her with lewd suggestions like the old coot judge she worked for now.

Or at least, she had worked for until last week.

She shuddered, not from the cold – the elevator was stuffy and hot – but from the thought of his vile, old man breath so close to her face.

She looked down at her new – and hopefully less icky – assignment for a hopefully less icky judge. The night session was her 'punishment' for standing up against such a powerful judge, but it was worth it to get the hell out of there!

Judge Harold T. Stone.

Eve tapped the sheet of paper on her hand. She had heard stories about this late night court session on the 18th floor – the strange cases and the even stranger people that ran the place. But, she never paid it much attention. She was too busy trying to do her job for Judge Mathis and stay out of his way at the same time.

For what good it did me.

Engrossed in her thoughts, she didn't look where she was going when the elevator dinged and the doors grinded open. When she stepped off, she ran smack into a wall.

What the hell is a wall doing so close to the elevator doors?

Except most walls don't have shiny buttons and carry city-issued pistols.

She slowly raised her head, a little apprehensive the more she craned her neck.

Nope. Definitely not a wall.

"Uh . . . hi," she said, eyes wide.

All the extremely tall, extremely bald man did was look at her.

Eve took a deep breath. He was a bailiff. A scary bailiff, but a bailiff nonetheless. So, there was no need to be apprehensive. No one was going to rob her or rape her or carry her off into an alley way just like her best friend had her convinced would happen when she moved here.

It still amazed Eve that was still her first impression of meeting anyone new in this place.

She looked down at the paper in her hands, shaking slightly as her apprehension subsided. "Uh . . . Judge Stone's courtroom?"

The man never spoke, just pointed down the hall.

"Um . . . thanks." I think.

Before she could take a step in the right direction, a rather suggestively-dressed woman went racing down the hallway past them. Eve backed against the elevator doors to keep from getting trampled.

"You stay away from me, you creep!" the woman yelled at the top of her lungs as she darted by Eve and the scary bailiff, leaving a trail of cheap perfume in her wake. "My name's Sally, not Samantha!"

"Aw, c'mon, Samantha . . ." A well-dressed, but rather harried looking man was giving chase. He stopped close to Eve and her new scary friend. She noticed he was almost as tall as this bailiff, but not quite. And probably a little older, although his graying hair suited him.

"It's Sally, you nimrod! Do I need to spell it for you?" Sally's voice carried well from the other end of the hall.

Eve looked up at the bailiff, wondering if this was at all strange.

Apparently, it was not. He did not look ruffled at all. If he even had the capability to look ruffled.

The well-tailored nimrod rolled his eyes and adjusted his coat. "Fine, Sally, you just look like a girl I used to know. It was an honest mistake. Really. And, she used to like to do . . . what you were doing."

By now, Sally had stopped her flight. She turned, her hand haughtily on her hip. "An honest mistake, huh, Dan?"

He thought he had her, Eve could tell. "Sure. An honest mistake."

Eve raised an eyebrow at his placating tone.

"Now, why don't we go back to our . . . discussion?" He tried to keep the pleading out of his deep voice.

Sally crossed her arms, actually appearing to think about it. "You would like that, wouldn't you Dan? You get what you want, and I don't hear from you again. I know you. I've heard about you. And let me tell you something, buster, I deserve better than Dan Fielding." She gave a wicked smile. "Or, should I say Reinhold?"

Dan immediately interrupted her. "Shhh, Sam . . . Sally!"

By now, a small crowd had gathered at the scene.

But, Sally had the upper-hand. "Reinhold! Reinhold! Reinhold!" She yelled at the top of her lungs, pleased with herself.

He started to lunge down the hall after Sally, but when he darted by Eve, Scary Bailiff Man grabbed him by the collar, lifting him off the floor a couple of inches.

Sally and her sing-song version of "Reinhold" disappeared down the hall.

Dan struggled. "You know, this suit is worth more than your car."

The bailiff didn't look impressed.

Dan kept struggling, but gave up at the iron grip the man had on his neck. He gritted his teeth. "Bull, if you don't put me down, I'll tell the city you volunteered to be a float in the next Thanksgiving parade."

"If you promise to be nice."

Dan rolled his eyes. "That'll be the day."

Eve couldn't help herself. Not only was the bailiff named Bull, which was way too appropriate, but this Dan fellow looked so silly hanging from Bull's massive paw that she started giggling.

Dan, still dangling by his collar, glared down at her. "Oh, you think this is funny, don't you?"

Eve tried to stifle her laugher behind her hand, but failed miserably. She had not had a lot to laugh about recently, so once she started, she couldn't stop.

Dan started to say something, but Bull shook him a little bit. "Be nice," he warned.

"Oh, alright! What are you, the polite police or something?"

Bull let him go, and Dan stumbled forward a bit, managing to catch himself before he fell to the ground.

Apparently, Sally had detoured back down a nearby hallway, and echoes of "Reinhold" could still be heard nearby. It only made Eve giggle louder.

Dan narrowed his eyes. "You sure are getting a good laugh at my expense, aren't you?"

"I think it's a lovely name," Eve managed. "I had a mule once named Reinhold."

"Oh, a mule, huh?"

Eve didn't know what came over her. She didn't generally insult people she didn't even know. Tucking a strand of straight brown hair behind her ear, she found herself saying. "Actually, he was an ass. A really big ass."

Dan stared at her, his dark eyes disbelieving. And for a quick moment, Eve thought she saw something she would never had thought to see on someone's face that she had insulted – respect.

Bull's bark of laughter startled them both, and when she looked at Dan again, it had vanished. Probably imagined anyway.

Dan turned his steely eyes on Bull. "Oh, so now you're getting a laugh at Dan Fielding's expense, aren't you?" He straightened his coat, trying his best to look dignified. "Don't think I won't remember that." He shook his finger at Eve. "Both of you." He stalked away, his head held high.

Eve looked up at Bull, and they both laughed.

What a place!

"C'mon, folks. Big night ahead." What looked like a little boy in a judge's robe went breezing by them into the courtroom, a stressed man in a vest with an armful of files right behind him.

Eve looked down at the note in her hand. Boy, Judge Stone looked even younger than she heard he was.

Good thing for Eve that no matter the courtroom, all court reporting equipment was the same. After shedding her coat and bag, she took her seat at the shorthand machine. No need to look around. It all looked the same, no matter if she were in Kentucky or New York.

"All rise. Manhattan Criminal Court Part Two is now in session, the Honorable Judge Harold T. Stone presiding." Bull said his part with no emotion whatsoever.

"Well, well, we have a big crowd tonight," Judge Stone said as he settled behind the podium, propping his feet on the desktop. Everyone followed his cue and sat down. "I see some regulars out there, and some new faces, as well. But, don't worry folks, you'll all get your turn."

Eve had to pause a moment.

Was the judge actually talking candidly to those in the audience?

She didn't even look up when the council approached the podium for the first case.

"Excuse me? Miss?"

Eve paused and realized no one had answered. Thinking that strange, she looked up from her machine and realized everyone was looking at her.

What the . . .

She looked above her and saw the judge's head peeking over the podium.

"Yes, sir?" she managed to squeak. She could feel all eyes on her and didn't like it one bit. So much for being anonymous.

"I see you're new here at the OK Corral. But, you sure come highly qualified from Judge Mathis."

Maybe because it was late at night or because she embarrassed that made her spit out the first thing that came to mind. "He better after the way he tried to paw me. Oops!" She put her hand over her mouth and flushed even more. The advantage of being a brunette was she didn't flush easily, but when she got too embarrassed, it was a sight to see.

All the judge did was laugh. "I appreciate your candor, Miss . . ."

"Uh . . . Cantrell. Evelyn Cantrell. But, you can call me Eve." She was trying to figure out if this little conversation needed to go in the minutes, as well.

"Harold T. Stone. But, you can call me Harry. When we're not in session of course." He surprised her by reaching over the podium with his hand, a friendly smile on his face.

A little hesitantly, Eve took it as he watched her merrily. No one else seemed to think this whole situation was strange, so maybe she was the one who was weird.

Scary thought. She was always the boring, normal one.

"Look a little flummoxed, Miss Cantrell. Let's introduce you to the troops. Make you feel a little more at home." He motioned to the desk next to his. "This is Mac. Best clerk you'll ever meet."

Engrossed in an ancient-looking computer on his desk, Mac gave her a little wave.

"He thinks he's going to be the next Dr. Seuss," Harry whispered hoarsely.

"Heard that, sir." Mac didn't even look up from the computer.

Harry shrugged and continued. "And this lovely young defender of the common folk is Christine Sullivan."

"Hi, Eve. Nice to meet you," the rather sunny attorney beamed. Eve couldn't help but smile back.

"And this is Assistant District Attorney . . ."

"We've met," Dan remarked dryly, peering down at her, adjusting the front of his coat.

Eve knew she was probably blushing to the roots of her hair.

Harry chuckled. "I imagine if she knees all men that make obscene gestures at her like she did Judge Mathis, you might want to wear a cup in the courtroom, Dan."

"You know, I wondered why the judge had to sit on an ice pack all last week," Christine said, more to herself than anyone else.

"Ha, ha." Dan really was not amused.

And Eve wanted the floor to swallow her up whole. Not only had the entire courthouse apparently heard about her tussle with Judge Mathis, but she had managed to piss off someone who was next in line for district attorney!

Good job, Eve. Great first impression.

"We're rather informal around here, Miss Cantrell," Harry continued. "Feel free to ask questions if you need to."

"Oh, ah, no, sir. I think I . . . got it."

"Very well. First case, Mac." Harry held out his hand, but nothing happened. "Ohhh, Mack-y. Time to work-y," he said in a sing-song tone.

"Just a minute, sir. Trying to put the finishing touches on this."

"Mac, do I need to sic Roz on you?"

Eve looked behind her.

Bull, she had met, but Roz took formidable to a whole new level.

Apparently, Mac thought so, too. He immediately handed a file to the judge. "Parsons vs. the City of Manhattan. Apparently, Mr. Parsons here fell into a manhole and wants to sue the city."

The judge looked at the little man with both arms in casts and a neck brace. "Was there negligence by the city involved, Mr. Counselor?"

"Sure, if you think stealing a manhole cover, then falling into the hole because you forgot you had stolen it negligence," Dan remarked caustically.

Christine chimed in. "Sir, my client has been laid off for sometime and was only trying to find something to eat . . ."

"In the sewer?" Dan eyed the client distastefully.

"Not in the sewer, Dan," Christine sighed.

Eve got the distinct impression exasperation with the ADA was a regular occurrence around here.

"He wanted to recycle the manhole cover for the money to buy food."

"Well, Mr. Parsons, stealing manhole covers is a misdemeanor offense with up to one year in jail. But, you look like you've suffered enough. Penalty is time served." He banged the gavel once. "Go see the unemployment office tomorrow. Maybe they can help."

And on the night went.

It wasn't too bad. At least not as bad as she expected. And she always expected the worst.

But, when Harry banged the gavel for the last time, Eve was relieved. It took some effort to keep up with the goings-on in the courtroom, and she was glad it was over for the night.

This had to be the strangest court she'd ever been in.

"So, Eve, what do you think of your first night in our humble little courtroom? Any questions?" Harry asked.

She looked around at the wave of humanity exiting the room, sightseeing even at this late hour. "I do have one question, Judge Stone."

"Harry. It's just Harry now."

She smiled at him. "Harry. How come I never saw any of these weird cases during the day?"

"Welcome to my world, sweetheart."

"No, Dan, I will not spit shine your shoes for you, or any other part of you for that matter!" Christine said, stuffing papers in her briefcase.

Their conversation interrupted, Eve and Harry watched the two spar.

"Please! Just one shoe! And, I won't even make you wear the maid outfit!"

"You are disgusting, you know that?"

Dan actually looked proud of himself. "Thanks." He followed Christine out the door. "I do have this barbarian outfit you would look spectacular in . . ."

Eve looked at Harry and motioned. "Is he always this . . . uh . . . oversexed?"

"Oh, Dan's relatively harmless. Don't pay him any attention."

"Yeah, he might be harmless if you weren't such a pert little thing." Roz tossed a couple of files carelessly on Harry's desk.

"I have a feeling Ms. Evelyn Cantrell can take care of herself," Harry leaned back in his chair, his hands behind his head as he studied her.

"I heard about Judge Mathis," Roz said.

Eve made a face. "It wasn't my finest hour, I admit. But, I did not make a good first impression on Mr. Fielding. I don't think he and I will be getting very . . . close."

Roz studied her for a moment. "You know, you're such a small wisp of a thing, I never would have taken you for kneeing judges and calling attorneys asses."

Eve was under the impression that Roz didn't hand out compliments left and right. And she wasn't so sure that either one of those Roz mentioned was a good thing.

All New York seemed to do was bring out the worst in her. And although everyone around her seemed to approve, she wasn't sure it was for the best.