TCOT Watery Witness - ATC
At the end of the Watery Witness - If my memory is correct - George and Betty Clarke are in a boat on the lake. Perry, Paul and Della are watching from a table on the expansive lawn. I take it from here with the three of them quietly lost in their own thoughts.
Disclaimer: I don't own them or make any profits.
The sun was gorgeous, Della Street leaned back in her chair, her thoughts swimming with Perry. She loved the way he touched her, it wasn't overt but when he took her arm, his fingers squeezed a bit tighter, and he held onto her longer than necessary.
If they stopped then he never removed his hand unless he was forced to. She loved standing in front of him and looking up at his face, the way he would look off into the distance and then turn his eyes to her and look into her soul. The heat he could send though her with that direct gaze made her shiver, in the most pleasing of ways.
She loved the way his concentration was all consuming, she loved the furrowed brow he got when he was mulling over a particular item. His lips pouting his hand clenched into a fist and the way that errant fringe that started off brushed neatly gradually curled tighter and tighter, falling down onto his forehead through each day.
He sat there relaxed, but still in his suit, she imagined him in a soft linen shirt, open necked, his gold pendant nestled in his chest hair. Her breath caught in her throat, she was glad she had her sunglasses on so he could not see the direction of her gaze. She turned her head away. Perry waited until Paul got distracted by the young couple in the boat before he reached over and touched Della's hands, she was clenching them,
"Della?" he said softly, she turned her eyes back to him,"It all came out well didn't it?" he asked. She nodded, 'yes,' not answering his unasked question about what was wrong.
"Perry, why don't you buy yourself a place like this, I could quite get used to this lounging in the sun," this remark came from Paul as he sat swiveled lazily in his chair still watching the young couple on the lake.
Della removed her sunglasses, "It wouldn't be worth it for the five days a year he would be home to be able to enjoy it," she pointed out to him. Paul pretended to ponder this for some time and then nodded, his face serious as his eyes met hers directly.
"Yea, you're probably right and that would probably mean even less time in the sun for us, running round after him as we do." Paul and Della gave each other a knowing grins which Perry chose to ignore.
"Excuse me Mr Drake?" Mrs Snow was heading towards them from the house,"There is a call for you, your service, its urgent apparently."
Paul sighed and unwound his body from the chair, "all work and no play makes Paul a very dull boy," he commented.
Perry took her hand again, "What's wrong?"
"I was just watching you being bored."
"I'm not bored," he denied.
"Oh really? Its only been..." she glanced at the watch on her wrist, "three hours out of the courtroom and you've got itchy feet."
"You are reading me wrong, Miss Street," he said in a tone that was significantly huskier than normal, "Its true I do have itchy feet but only because I am feeling this sunshine, this green grass and ..." but his gaze dropped from hers.
"And?" she prodded him curious about his reaction, just when she thought he was heading down one track he would switch and she would lose him again.
"Is this what you would like Della, because if it is, you can have it, I..." he asked earnestly, she looked at him in surprise. Suddenly the reason for his agitation became clear and that it had caused him such distress gave her a delicious warm glow. She reached over to take his hands in hers, leaning into him so that her face was only inches from his.
"Oh Perry, you can't possible think that this is what I want. You think I have had my head turned by a big house, servants and jewelry paste or otherwise?" she chuckled as he blushed a bit. Said out loud like that, it did sound awfully shallow. He didn't know what to say and dropped his eyes to her hands, slim, small in comparison to his but with a strength that their delicateness hid, a strength he relied on.
"I just don't think you realise that I would give you anything you wanted Della, anything." She laughed again part amusement, part alarm that he was going to pop the question again.
"Well if that's the case I'll keep my apartment and the freshwater pearls you feel the need to drape over me... and I'll keep you."
His dimple appeared on his cheek as he realised they had both been reacting to fears of their own making. He shifted uncomfortably, his need to kiss her was going to over power him.
"Will you wear them for me later?" he asked letting his eyes drift up to hers liking the way hers widened and responded to the desire she could see in his own.
Despite five years of being together he suspected she still didn't truly believe the depth of his love for her, to the exclusion of all else, and on occasions like this when it overwhelmed him and bubbled out of her being it seemed to surprise her a new.
"As you are probably well aware Mr Mason, when you look at me like that there is nothing I would not do for you," she said in an unintentionally sultry voice that had the same impact on him as when he unexpectedly caught a flash of her thighs.
"Did you want to explore the house?"He asked a grin on his face.
She shook her head, knowing exactly what that would lead to, knowing also how easily he could pull down her defenses and remove her normally strong sense of decorum.
"But you can take me home," she replied. He shot up out of his seat headed down to the lake waved to the young couple, called out that they would take them to dinner the following week. He came back and with a grin like a cheeky school boy held out his hand to her she smiled up at him putting her hand in his feeling so incredible safe and loved in his presence. He slipped his arm around her waist as they walked back to the house. Knowing that there were no prying eyes to observe them, he squeezed her to him, words not required between them.
The End