After The Credits story for "Perry Mason Returns"

by MarMar1

Dec 31, 2007

DISCLAIMER: I still own no rights to Perry Mason. Those are owned by CBS Corporation (and some part, I hope, by the heirs of Mr. Earl Stanley Gardner). I own only this story idea and my love of the characters and those who brought them to life. Let me express my appreciation to the owners for allowing me to play gently with their properties. I promise to return them in as good (or better) condition as I found them and will make no profit from my little endeavors.


SETTING: The pre-dawn hours of the day after Della is exonerated of all charges in the murder of Arthur Gordon in "Perry Mason Returns". In the movie, Perry and Della are reunited as he leaves the Bench and comes to her defense when she is charged with murder. Of course she is cleared. The movie ends with Perry, Della, and darling Paul Drake, jr. driving off from the courthouse. Let us suppose there is the usual clearing of paperwork and loose ends and then the requisite celebration. So, what happens after that initial celebration? What now?

FEEDBACK: yes, please. That is the only profit I can hope for. On list or via private email, all offerings greatly appreciated.

ATC story for "Perry Mason Returns"

by MarMar1

Dec 31, 2007

Perry stood quietly in the doorway, simply taking in the wonder of the sight before him. He was unsure of what to expect in the hours ahead and, therefore, was hesitant to disturb her just yet. That, and he was, of course, quite happy to simply behold the vision before him.

Della Street lay in peaceful sleep, small in the middle of her king sized bed, amidst a wild disarray of bedclothes. Perry knew she did not typically sleep on her back and he smiled at the old memory of her description of such sleep. "The sleep of the worn, but deeply satisfied," she had said, her low voice soft and sultry.

Just as she had described, she lay there now on her back, the soft quilt pulled over her. From his vantage point Perry could see one delicate foot which had failed to find cover. He noted the soft shade of polish on a perfect pedicure and wondered at her ability to have paid the slightest attention to such things over the past weeks as she faced the turmoil of her own trial for the murder of Arthur Gordon. A bit of ruefulness joined his smile as he acknowledged that was just Della. She had always understood that, no matter the crisis at hand, the regular, steady aspects of everyday life must continue on and she had an almost magical way of seeing that they did.

Perry's noted with delight that the down quilt had missed more than just her foot. Indeed, it had left uncovered a lovely strip all the way up her right side. He had a clear view of much of her still-trim, shapely leg all the way up to the side of her hip. There a corner of the quilt fell between his gaze and her skin, her right hand trapping the cover against her.

Above the stretch of her arm, the quilt failed to cover her shoulder and the full side swell of her breast; it draped tantalizingly low across her. Perry allowed his eyes to linger before continuing up the sweep of her throat to her face. His gaze stopped again, now focused on her full, gently closed lips. His years of longing for the touch of those lips stabbed at him before he could stop it. Her hair was in a most uncharacteristic, wild display of soft curls; her face was devoid of makeup. Perry's breath caught at the beauty of her and he held one hand to the doorframe for support.

As he watched, her left arm, which had been flung with abandon over her head and around her pillow, moved down and pulled the quilt over her body as she rolled with languid grace toward him, onto her right side. As he looked on, Della's left foot now slipped from under the cover, her left hand spread out over the smooth sheet beside her as her head nestled onto another pillow. Perry steadied his breathing. Sure that his reverie was soon to be cut short, he offered up a small prayer for the moments to come.

Della's hand searched the expanse of soft sheet and a small moan escaped her throat; her eyes fluttered open. In the soft shadows of pre-dawn Perry watched her face as she came to awareness. This was it.

"Perry?" She half rose, her right hand braced on the bed for support as her left hand clutched the quilt to her breast. "Perry are..."

Never one to shy from a challenge, he moved forward into the room with the assistance of his damned cane. His knee was screaming at him. Taking the offensive, he cut off her words, "That looked very much like the sleep of 'the worn, but deeply satisfied', Ms Street."

He stopped at the edge of the bed and offered her a dimpled smile. "God hear my prayer," he thought.

Della considered him for a moment before responding. "You know very well that it was." Her smile was evident in her voice. "Until you spoiled it." Her mouth formed the little pouty expression he dearly loved.

"I spoiled...?" He began to protest.

Her eyebrow rose elegantly. "You were gone." She gently reproached him, her eyes twinkling. Releasing her hold on the quilt, Della reached out her hand to him, "Come back to bed, Perry."

He discarded his cane against the bedside table and eased down onto the mattress with what little grace he could muster. He caught a brief view of heaven as Della pulled the quilt back before dropping it over to cover them both, enclosing him next to her. He offered up his silent gratitude for his prayer being so wonderfully granted.

"Did you find your pills?" Della had seen his heavy reliance on the cane and felt the sting of guilt. He'd had no business...she fervently hoped they had not caused more damage. She would have to be more careful to keep him from bearing his weight on it that way again, at least until the doctor cleared him.

"Yes," Perry answered a bit more gruffly than he had intended. He wasn't yet ready to accept that age and years of ill considered risky activities were taking their toll, but his ego was assuaged as Della settled down into his arms, rested her head on his shoulder and lay her hand gently on his chest inside the fold of his robe. It was almost painful how much her touch still thrilled him after all the years.

"Good," came her silky reply. "Let me know when they start to work." Her warm caramel voice whispered next to his ear. He felt her soft lips place a delicate kiss on his jaw before she nestled more deeply into his embrace.

Perry smiled, understanding her intentions. His large right hand pressed Della's slender hand firmly to his heart and he smiled. He would most certainly let her know when the pills started to ease the pain in his knee, but he doubted he would ever feel any better than he did at that very moment. His hand retained its hold on hers as he closed his eyes and drifted off with Della into his own sleep of 'the worn, but deeply satisfied'.