A/N: Three years later
Each of their sons was named after a grandfather – Andrew and Philip. Andrew was Perry's father's name while Della's father was Philip Street. Della always insisted their names were really "Surprise!" and "Oops!" They came as a complete surprise, for the Masons had not planned on having children. However, the twins made their way into the world forty weeks after their parents' very happy and energetic third anniversary.
The day had begun as every other day for Perry and Della. The alarm rang for Della Street first. She had always preceded Mr. Mason in the office by at least an hour most days. Marriage had not altered that schedule one bit. Della liked the quiet of that hour without the Chief. It assured her that she could get through the mail and a few last minute briefs and letters, all prepared for his signature. She wanted to remain Della Street as her professional persona while being perfectly content as Mrs. Perry Mason in her private and social life.
Perry also preferred the staggered schedule as well. He loved Della dearly, but he would never be a morning person even if he lived to be 150! He needed the peace of undisturbed "get up," "get shaved and showered," "get dressed" all by himself. He admitted it was wonderful that she always left him some coffee before she left for the office. It beat his former bachelor lifestyle. Alone, he could mentally prepare for the day ahead while he nursed his coffee, cigarette, and a sweet roll. It made little difference that two cars went to work after they married. It somehow just made sense to do it that way. A solid, working routine never needed to be changed they both believed.
Neither Della nor Perry was overly sentimental even when it came to their anniversary. It was just another excuse to go out and dance the night away. The wedding had merely served notice to the rest of the world that this pair really was a couple. For years they had worked so closely, that a deep intimacy already existed. They shared most of their waking hours long before they shared a bed and home. In most of the important ways, they had been married for years before they joined hands and bodies that day in Las Vegas. Perry had never forgotten Della's birthday nor she his. Their anniversary took a little more remembering and was thus affixed to the refrigerator door as a joint reminder to do extra loving things for the other.
Della began the day for Perry with fresh towels and scrubbed bathroom. There was no lingerie in sight and the seat was left "up." Next she left a full pot of coffee, a fresh Danish she'd picked up from the neighborhood bakery, and the newspaper. A daisy whimsically stood in a small vase on the breakfast table. Since she would not smile at him until he got to work, she thought it a pleasant stand-in. She loved Perry more than words and deeds could ever begin to tell.
Perry had planned for her to get to the office and find two-dozen red roses waiting for her. He wanted them delivered ten minutes before her usual arrival time. It gave enough time for the scent to penetrate her office without having the buds in full flower. Tucked in his coat pocket was a diamond and emerald necklace, which he planned to drape around her at dinner this evening. The anniversary seemed as good an excuse as any to lavish jewels upon his "jewel." He had secured dinner reservations at their favorite restaurant. Not only was the food delicious, but there also was an orchestra that played through the night, making the whole ambiance all the more delightful. The couple had enjoyed many an evening of dancing after dinner in the past, but their marriage moved it further up in the things they enjoyed doing together most. It was at least at the third most enjoyable activity.
Thus it was that they were both a "little tipsy" when they got home that night, or rather early that next morning. Perry had called a cab since he knew that neither was fit to drive home and a married Paul Drake was no longer available at odd hours of the night. Perry had nibbled on his wife's neck in the back seat of the taxi like a kid on a hot date after the prom. For her part, Della had the giggles all the way home, especially as she untied his tie and began unbuttoning his shirt. Consequently, the usual precautions were ignored in the haste of removing clothes from the other and the slight fog of inebriation. Saturday afternoon arrived before there was even the first stirring from their bedroom.
Shoes were left at the door. Coats were half draped on the chair and half on the floor. Perry's suit jacket and tie were the next items observed in the clothing trail aimed more or less toward the bedroom. Della had peeled his jacket off, and dropped it arms inside out on the floor. The tie, untied in the taxi, was slipped out of his shirt and flung aimlessly through the air. Della loved to run her fingers through the hair on his chest almost as much as the hair on his head. He loved the way she kissed him there. He entangled his hands in her hair and brought her mouth up to his and lavished his affections on her sensual lips.
Her jacket was summarily discarded nearby in a similar wad. With wicked grins on their faces, Della pulled all the drapes shut as Perry dimmed the lights and turned on the stereo that he had set up before leaving for the office that morning. He had planned almost everything…well, almost everything.
The couch had served them nicely for about thirty minutes, with few more layers of clothes left behind in piles there. A shirtless Perry had retrieved an iced bottle of champagne. It met its final end in the bedroom an hour or so later. The Hi-Fi was now silent, having expended its stack of six records. The night ended with a gift of self to the Beloved. Those mutual gifts would make for a most interesting next 21 years in the Mason home!
By the following Friday, Della sensed that something was different. Parts of her body ached that had never known such discomfort in the past. When her cycled failed to cycle, she grew suspicious. She was not quite forty and pregnancy was not completely out of the question. Her doctor answered that soon enough. Perry learned quickly that arguing with a pregnant wife was not especially useful. Della had even less use for Perry's initial attempt at hovering and pampering. She was going to do all the things she'd always done until the arrival of their accidental guest. It was not until the fourth month that the doctor confirmed that Della was carrying twins. Paul found it amusing to watch Perry deal with this turn of events. His own son, Paul, Jr., was a fresh arrival of his own and had complicated life for his father and mother. Paul, Jr., had at least been planned.
Paul took Perry hunting and fishing more often in the second trimester. It was just easier on all three of the friends that way. Della alternated between excited about their children to angry that her life had been so disrupted by it all. When she was in that mood, Perry was summarily blamed for the "unexpected" pregnancy. He was also blamed for the loss of her figure and the swelling of her ankles and general misery in the third trimester. While Perry still loved her dearly, he had no idea of what to do. For her part, Della apologized profusely to Perry at least twice a week for acting like a shrew.
Della was at the office early in the morning when Andrew and Philip decided to make their grand entrance. Of course, it was a full half hour before their father had made it in. Gertie greeted Perry with the news that Della's water had broken, and Paul had rushed her to the hospital. Even though he had given up smoking while Della was pregnant, Perry felt the desperate need for nicotine on the way. He chain-smoked his way there and in the expectant fathers waiting area. As he smoked, he paced back and forth. Paul could only watch him with the understanding of an expectant father. Perry had been with him the night Paul, Jr., was born. Andrew came first a little after one in the afternoon. Philip trailed him by less than an hour. By the late evening, Della was in a room and Perry slept in the chair next to the bed. It was, as Paul put it, the last good sleep for the next year or so that either would get.