Disclaimer: Characters aren't mine (except one) but I like to entertain them a little.

The timeline for this is completely open, but mentally I picked the mid-50s. This strange little tale is not related to any episode, book or other storyline. It's just a little scene that's forced itself on me like so many recently. :)


Perry Mason stood on the porch of the little ocean view house. He didn't knock. He didn't pace. He merely stood. His shoulders tired. His hair already going white. His chest padded a little more these days: a good two years after his goodbye.

"Won't you come in?" She suddenly asked, leaning against the door frame from the inside, resembling the woman he still loved.

"I don't mean to intrude," the counselor said, his voice firm but tender.

"You've been standing here for half an hour, Perry," she smiled warmly at him. "You must be getting cold."

"I don't mind the weather," Mason replied and took a deep breath. "I actually enjoy the wind. It eases my mind."

"We both know you haven't come here for the wind." She wrapped a shawl around her shoulders, walked up to him and rested her head on his chest. "Although it's nice to see you under any circumstances."

"Is it?" Perry Mason looked down to her and studied the beauty of her aging face.

"I've told you you're always welcome here, Perry." She nodded.

The attorney glared at the woman beside him seeking his warmth. Her eyes were still so full of life, bubbling over with love as he drew her close.

"Where is she?" Perry finally asked, his voice soft yet brittle.

"Upstairs," she replied and looked deep into his eyes moist from emotion.

Perry Mason held her gaze. "How is she?"

"She's doing beautifully. You'll see," she said, her smile as brilliant as it used to be.

"Are you sure she wants to see me?" The lawyer asked nervously.

"She has waited so long for you to come," she reassured him, then moved her arm around his neck to pull him down to meet her trembling lips. "And so have I."

"What are you doing?" Perry asked but couldn't fight her allure and turned her tenderness into a hungry kiss.

"I've missed you," she whispered, her curves still fitting perfectly with his physique, making it impossible for any of them to break away.

So they stood, entangled in each other until the familiar sound of a female voice forced them apart. Memories of bliss merged with a melancholy past of choices, trust and reputation. And that feeling of regret he hadn't been able to rinse.

Reluctant to break their kiss, she was still panting against his chest, remembering the nights in his arms and the life she had given up to protect the person who was now standing behind them with her aunt.

"Look who's here, honey," she finally said, forcing herself to smile through stubborn tears, ignoring Mae's inquiring gaze.

Perry gasped, overcome by his emotions as he drank in the sight before him. What he saw was beautiful: a full head of dark brown curls, a set of ravishing deep turquoise eyes, lush full cheeks that formed a dimple as she smiled at him. It was her gaze that touched his heart. Her joy so genuine and familiar, a direct mirror to the woman he still held in his arms. The woman he had come to beg to forgive him. The woman he should've married despite her protestations. The mother of his child, two years of age, Amy by name. The most precious gift of his life, given to him by the woman of his heart, Della Street.