MM from the Case of the Angry Mourner
Della Street expertly maneuvered the sexy black Cadillac belonging to the famous attorney, Perry Mason, around the treacherous curves of the winding road. It reminded her of its owner and somehow whenever she drove it, she felt like she was being held in his arms. She concentrated closely on the road even though her mind was occupied by the events of a few short hours ago when she'd been forced from a nice, warm, comfortable king-sized bed and the strong, protective embrace of the man sharing it with her. Driving to Los Angeles to retrieve items they would need to set up an office in the cabin and then returning as if she had never been there in the first place certainly hadn't been the original plan to start the day.
She smiled to herself, thinking back to the hours recently past that seemed an all-too-familiar distant memory and shook her head. Only we could go away for a week's vacation and get wrangled into a murder case. We should have gone to Logan City…we already solved a murder case there...but then…it wasn't nearly AS private as this was...and there was no Jacuzzi. Oh well, at least we had a couple of days alone together and I DID manage to get him to relax a little.
That thought caused her to giggle out loud. He'd been so cute that morning before the banging on the door had begun. Prior to that insidious sound, she had awakened to the sight of him smiling down at her and the feel of his fingers playing softly with her hair.
She smiled sleepily and stretched, yawning and snuggling against him to gather all the warmth from his body in order to stave off the morning chill that comes just before dawn. She wondered briefly what could possibly be going through his mind that would have him awake at this hour of the morning. With him she knew it could be almost anything, since his mind worked at lightning speed, generating thoughts that seemed random to all around him but which made perfect sense to him.
He slipped his arm around her waist to pull her closer and slid down so that he was face-to-face with her. "Good morning. I didn't mean to wake you," he whispered, pressing a feather light kiss to her lips. "It's been too long since we've gotten away like this. I've missed it...missed us…missed having you all to myself and not having to share you or pull away before anyone might see us. Hiding and sneaking…it's all very exciting mind you, BUT...now and then I prefer the serenity of having JUST YOU all alone." The last few words of his sentence were spoken slower and with much more emphasis, especially by the movement of his hand under the covers, which caused her to moan in delight.
"THAT, Mr. Mason, is a mutual feeling," she smiled just before she kissed him. She felt the difference in his kiss at that moment and knew the thoughts that were filling his mind before he expressed them, which she knew he would. It had been TOO long since he'd said anything. She kissed him again and moved her hands over his warm skin, hoping to preclude it from even occurring.
Her efforts, while valiant, were no less in vain when he pulled slowly away from her lips. "Della," he said softly and thoughtfully, turning to lie on his back and pulling her on top of his body. He took a deep breath and exhaled it slowly, bringing his hands to her face to frame it so he could look at her. He almost couldn't speak as he was once again awestruck by the love that filled her eyes as she looked at him.
His moment of hesitation was just such that she reached up and placed her fingers against his lips. "Perry," she whispered, "I know what you're about to ask and you know what I've said in the past. I can't make you see and understand how I feel. I wish I could…but I can't seem to so let me say it once more. I love you. I love you more than any woman has ever loved a man. I love you so much that I put you before everything…including eating and sleeping." She grinned at him, hoping her teasing would lighten his mood at least slightly. "If I thought the two of us being married would work, I'd have you standing in front of the first justice of the peace I could find. I…" she hesitated for a second and then turned away from him so he wouldn't see the true pain in her eyes. "I know that I'm scared and I know you'd try to be the best husband ever, but that's the crux of the matter, Perry Mason. You don't know anything about being a husband and I sure don't know anything about being a wife. You DO know how to be an amazing man…I couldn't have gotten any luckier."
"Della," he started to interrupt.
"No…hear me out. I don't need a wedding ring on my finger to know where I belong or where I'll spend the rest of my life. I know it doesn't suit conventional wisdom, or even my folks' belief system, but I would rather spend the rest of my life not legally married to you and sharing you with the world than take the risk of putting a ring on your finger and losing you forever. I've seen it too many times Perry…we both have in this profession. How many of your friends are divorced at least one time because their wives got tired of waiting at home for them?"
He sighed in resignation and his entire body appeared to deflate along with the sigh.
"What I'm telling you right now, Perry Mason, is that I'm yours forever if you want me and I hope you do…because I know I want you forever."
He saw the emotion in her eyes, the beginnings of tears and he knew the lump in her throat was probably as big as or bigger than the one in his own. He slid his hand over her cheek and through her hair, tangling his fingers within it. "How could there ever be anyone else but you? You, Della Street, are perfect for me…forever."
He'd rolled them over once again so that he was on top of her and he'd kissed her so as to leave no doubts about who he wanted, where he wanted to be forever, and what he wanted to do to show her how he felt. Then that intruding banging on the door had interrupted and both of them had groaned. He'd shaken his head as the pounding just continued and whispered he'd get rid of whoever it was, but her instincts told her better. And she was right, as he opened the door and the imposing Mrs. Adrian barged her problems into their much needed retreat.
She giggled once again as she remembered how he looked when he'd returned almost a half an hour later, finding her already out of bed and in the shower…without him…and had pulled back the shower curtain with a pout.
The road straightened out a bit and any moment she would be able to see the cabin. Her foot pressed down on the accelerator, impatience with the low speed she had been forced to maintain getting the better of her the closer she drew to Perry's loving embrace. She knew they would necessarily need to keep their distance, hide their seductive glances, and settle for slight brushes of their fingertips as they passed notes and documents between them. But she was used to that, and did, in fact, consider it a form of secretive foreplay. At the end of the day, after interviews with the cast of characters in this particular case, her notes neatly typed and tucked in a folder, they would be alone for however long it would be until Paul Drake made an appearance.
Yes, murder seemed to follow Perry everywhere, and Belle Adrian had ruined a nice getaway, but their ability to create a few stolen moments in the midst of this kind of chaos is what made their time alone more precious to each of them. Murder and stealing was why clients sought their help, the two crimes as inseparable as the handsome couple themselves. Stealing private moments and solving murders… that was what comprised the very essence of who they were as a couple.
He watched her go into the kitchen, still smiling after her and mentally shaking his head at her talents. He felt the change in the atmosphere as soon as she walked through the door. She makes everything…right. When the door to the kitchen closed behind her, he turned to Paul. "Well wandering boy, what are you waiting for? Get to work."
"All right Perry. I don't know what you expect to get from all these license plate numbers, but I'll get 'em for you," he said, standing and shaking his head as he left.
As soon as the door closed, Perry entered the kitchen and slipped up behind Della, wrapping his arms around her waist. "I still say you ought to be on the screen because you are THE best actress I've ever seen," he smiled while nuzzling her neck. "That bit of being so surprised at the size of the cabin for Paul's sake was pretty good."
"You weren't so bad yourself," she answered with her own grin. "'Only three baths' you said." She laughed and patted his hands on her waist, lingering a moment. "Now get going, mister. You've got work to do and I'm hungry. After I have some breakfast, I'll get everything set up and start organizing the information you already have with whatever Paul and his men call in."
He sighed in resignation once again, turning her to face him. "I wanted to make breakfast for you this morning," he pouted, "AND feed it to you…in bed."
"Sounds nice. Can I get a raincheck?"
"Of course," he said, becoming more serious, "Della, I really am sorry our vacation was ruined."
"I know you are and so am I, but it can't be helped." She smiled proudly up at him and shrugged. "It's just who we are Perry, and I wouldn't have us any other way."