Disclaimer: All rights belong to Wolf Films.
Author's Note: The story is inspired from a "Calvin and Hobbes" strip. Any proper apologies must go to Bill Watterson. (Speaking of Watterson, he has an interview in Mental Floss' upcoming December 2013 issue.) Meanwhile, it has been five years since Kim Greylek's debut, so consider this item as a semi-anniversary tribute.
Timeline: Post-"Confession."
Key: Single quote sentences or '_' represent thought-based speech.
Kim Greylek eyed her bathroom mirror's reflection, as she was donning a red bra.
'Ever since the transfer to New York, I haven't worn my lucky bra. It might finally end my bad luck around here.'
A well-dressed Kim seated herself within her office. Her wooden chair emitted a low creaking sound, while she shifted into position.
'Just ignore the weird noise.'
Suddenly, she plummeted onto the floor. Large splinters were jabbing her buttocks.
'Lousy plywood furniture.'
D.A. Jack McCoy faced a standing Kim. "Do you have the DD-5 I requested?"
She scoured through several manila folders. "Yes, I do."
"Excellent."
She swallowed nervously. "Or, maybe I don't. I remember reading my copy at home, last night, which means it's probably still there. I'm sorry, sir."
He lowered his eyebrows. "Though, I'm quite displeased, everybody is allowed one amateurish mistake. Correct the matter during lunchtime."
"Thank you."
"You're welcome. Anyway, I must go, due to other appointments. I shall be expecting you later." He exited quickly from her workspace.
'Losing essential documents — what a truly professional moment, Greylek.'
Kim sat outside a local bistro. 'I definitely could use a pleasant meal. Afterwards, I'll locate Jack's missing form, plus pay a quick trip to the One-Six.'
A waiter deposited a salad bowl. "Your appetizer, ma'am."
"Thanks."
She ingested a few croutons. 'Delicious.'
A cockroach emerged among the lettuce leaves. It crawled briefly, and then died.
She raised her arm, her tongue protruded. 'Tomorrow begins the era of bag lunches.'
Kim stepped inside the 16th Precinct, policemen bustling. 'No day is complete without visiting my favorite cops. How I wish I wasn't being ironic.'
She observed several detectives ahead. 'Looks like Munch, Stabler and Tutuola are doing a mini-powwow. Hope the guys don't mind a fourth player.'
"I am donating thirty bucks," said Munch.
"I got fifty. Eighty has to be enough, Elliot." Tutuola handed Stabler multiple dollar bills.
Stabler rubbed his neckline. "Nope, a hundred is the new minimum when dealing against Greylek. Pay up, cheapskates."
She covered her gaping mouth. 'They're bribing each other to interact with me? Should I raise holy hell or cut my losses?'
She revisited the previous corridor. 'Let another A.D.A. handle them, as I don't deserve this crap.'
A scraggy man passed her. "Watch yourself, skank!"
"Get a haircut, hippie."
"Good idea!" He rammed an adjacent window, via his skull. Officers everywhere scrambled toward the cackling male.
She blinked rapidly. 'There's nothing worse than an inscrutable omen.'
Kim arose in a courtroom, her posture rigid. She stared at the judge and jury before her.
"We find the defendant not guilty," declared the jury foreman.
"In which case, court is now adjourned." The judge slammed down his gavel.
The defense attorney, Roger Kressler, edged beside her. "I cannot wait until we clash, next time, Counselor."
She nodded weakly. "Likewise."
"Maybe you will even win." He adopted a sly grin.
'Maybe I will dance on your grave.'
Kim was setting a metal stool behind her desk. 'It may hurt my ass, but it won't fall apart.'
Jack approached her. "I heard about your verdict and One-Six assault. You okay?"
"Oh, I'm fine. Regarding the latter, better he attack the window instead, right?" She waved her free hand.
"Indeed. It's amazing that you weren't shot, given the place's disturbing casualty rate." He gripped her shoulder lightly.
Her cheeks reddened. "Me, too. Nevertheless, I apologize for my trial outcome, sir."
"These things happen, so accept the defeat in order to move forward. Stop by my office whenever, and we'll commiserate with glasses of scotch. See you soon, Kim."
She beamed strongly, once he departed. 'Wow, a New Yorker who actually appreciates me. Today was worth wearing my lucky bra, after all.'
Reviews of any sort are welcome.