Disclaimer: These characters are not mine. The end.

A/N: This is just an idea I want to play around with. I'm assuming Della does have a car, but that is being ignored in this story. Anyway, I was watching PM and I saw him stick Della in a taxi. I wondered how she felt about that. This is what came out of those musings. Enjoy!

Della hated taxis. Being from a small Midwest town, when she first arrived in Los Angeles, she was surprised that everyone took taxis without a second thought. She wasn't sure she could trust her life in the hands of a random driver, but soon enough she learned that taxis were really the only quick and efficient way of getting around.

Regardless of how many times she took one, she still hated them. She didn't hate them because she was from a small town though. Her hatred was much deeper and usually came about because of the drivers.

There were some drivers she liked. These were the quiet ones. They didn't pry into her life and she didn't pry into theirs. They took her where she needed to go without questions and without input. The only words they spoke were the required "hello" and "goodbye." She paid them and they left. She always hoped to get that kind of driver every time she hailed a taxi.

There were also drivers she didn't care for and these drivers were more prevalent than the other type. These drivers were the talkers. They didn't just talk about their life though. In fact, they hardly ever mentioned their life. They saw the "Great Perry Mason" put her in a taxi and that was all they talked about. It didn't matter where she was going, they assumed she was going there for a case they were working on. Even if she was going home, the drivers were sure she was going to get something for Perry Mason and they needed to wait for her. The drivers then proceeded to argue with her! Weren't they just supposed to mind their own business?

There were times when Perry Mason didn't even hail a taxi for her but the driver recognized her from a picture in the paper. In this case, the same thing resulted. All the questions about working so close with the great attorney and all the "scandalous things" they just must engage in.

The questions ranged from her public life to her private life. There were questions about trials Perry had previously won or trials he was in right now. A question about why she was going where she was going always made an appearance. There were endless questions about her involvement with Perry. Della wasn't about to answer those "involvement" questions truthfully, but denying to answer it only gave the cab driver reason to believe immoral involvement. It puzzled Della to no end as to why so many taxi drivers needed to know that. Most of them were men!

Della never answered the questions that were asked and usually ignored most of them. She didn't answer for a number of reasons. One of the reasons was because she just wasn't allowed to talk about these things with random people. What's more, the taxi driver usually knew that. The drivers knew she was Perry Mason's confidential secretary. Confidential implied that she wasn't allowed to talk about anything that happened in the office or had to do with a client. She supposed most of those men thought since she was a woman she couldn't keep a secret. That was a disillusioned view most men had and it seemed to be common with these drivers. When she didn't answer, most of them were shocked. In her view, it served them right for being so nosy anyway.

Della didn't like to ride in a taxi by herself because of the questions, but there were also other reasons. She knew that if she was riding by herself, it usually meant Perry was sending her back to the office or home while he was running off to chase a lead. It wasn't that she minded going back to the office if she could be useful there; she just would rather chase leads with him. She did hate going home when he was running around with Paul though and that usually made the ride even worse.

If Della didn't like taxi rides by herself, she hated them when she was with Perry. The drivers definitely asked questions then, but when Perry deflected one question, they didn't dare ask anymore. Perry's tone let them know right away their questions weren't welcome. Della actually liked that part of the ride. What she hated was how appropriate they had to be. She didn't want to be horribly inappropriate, that wasn't it. When Perry rode somewhere with her, she loved to scoot close to him, rest her head on his shoulder and just relax. She definitely couldn't do that on a cab ride. Almost every single driver was looking for a scoop and if they could deliver the kind of information that her head on his shoulder would provide to a paper, that driver could very well be considered a hero.

Luckily, Perry had a car and almost always used it to drive to the office. He always drove Della home and sometimes—more often than not—he would come in, they would have drinks and either talk about the case, or just talk. If a taxi had to take them both home, Perry wouldn't be able to come up to Della's apartment. Well, it was more like Della wouldn't let him. She didn't want their involvement to ruin his reputation or hurt his practice, so she wouldn't let a taxi driver see them going to the same place, if it was either one of their houses. Every time he drove her home, she was thankful for his car. After all, in his car was the one of the only times he would drape his arm around her shoulder and she could rest her head on his shoulder (minus the times they spent at their respective houses, which wasn't all that often, with their work).

As Perry hailed a taxi for her that night and told her to go back to the office, she sighed. She really hoped she would get a quiet driver, she wasn't in the mood for chit-chat, or deflecting chit-chat.

When the cab pulled up to the curb and Perry ushered Della in she gave him a slight smile. Perry smiled and winked at her. The wink made her smile grow. She knew that while he was sending her back to the office for now, he would drive her home later that night and she was almost sure that was what the wink was meant to signify.

"Evening, Miss," the taxi driver said to Della with a tip of his hat.

The driver didn't try to talk anymore after Della returned the sentiment and she gave a small sigh of relief and settled back in the seat. Maybe this wouldn't be such a bad night after all.

What did you think? I'm not sure how I feel about it; like I said, it was just some random musings. I have never ridden in a taxi and have hardly ever seen a taxi, so some of the things I said about drivers could be wrong, but I think taxis are rather self explanatory? Anyway, since this is one of the first stories I've written with almost no dialogue, review and let me know how I did? Please…and thanks for reading!