So Much for 'Hands-Off'- A MM Story for TCOT Ruthless Reporter

by dellaandperrylover

Perry has a long-standing rule in regard to his and Della's personal time during a case. Della finally lets Perry know how she feels about his so-called rule. I wrote this story well over a decade ago, but I removed it a while back. I have polished it up and made some additions. Big shout out to my beta Musicin68 for making my stories so much better than they actually are!

So Much for Hands Off: A Perry Mason Fanfiction

MM: TCOT Ruthless Reporter

Author's Note: This fluffy bit of ridiculousness is a missing moment story to the TV movie TCOT Ruthless Reporter, so it certainly helps to have seen the movie. I was always so struck by how gorgeous Della looks in the 'club' scene of this movie that it inspired this little tidbit. Once again, since this fanfiction site doesn't technically allow graphic, adult scenes, I have cut this version down. However, it still contains its fair share of spice since that's basically what the whole plot revolves around. So, if that isn't your thing, this may not be the story for you. Just wanted to give fair warning. And if you would prefer the full, mature version of this story, you can find it posted on the archive of our own site under the same pen name. Best wishes and happy reading!

Della Street walked into her apartment and shut the door, slamming it a little harder than she'd intended. With a sigh of frustration, she sank back against the door and closed her eyes. As much as she loved him, Perry Mason could infuriate her more than anyone else she'd ever known. First, he had taken on Congressman Kimball's murder case, which had just ended yesterday. And he'd done so knowing that she desperately wanted to take a break and get away for a week or so. The case had been so harrowing they hadn't been able to find the time or the energy to…relax together. Not that it would have mattered. For years Perry had maintained a strict hands-off policy during trial work. He always said he couldn't give his clients his full attention when his mind was continually preoccupied with thoughts of her. Della, however, had never understood his train of thought. For her, the lack of concentration worsened with the lack of him. More often than not, she was bursting with pent-up frustration by trial's end.

On top of taking the Congressman's murder case, Perry had also agreed to speak at a trial lawyers' seminar in Kansas City. Meaning he would be leaving tomorrow afternoon and would be gone for the next four days. And now, on the one night, they would have together in almost four weeks, he'd agreed to do that damn interview with Jillian Pope. Her blood was boiling just thinking about it. Walking into the living room, she tossed aside her packages with a sigh. Della had run out at lunch and purchased a few select items in preparation for what she thought was going to be a romantic evening with the man she loved. A bottle of his favorite wine, a romantic new jazz CD, a bottle of warming massage oil, and a négligée that even Della had to admit she looked stunning in. And for what? To end up spending the evening alone.

"Since when does Perry Mason give interviews? Never. Well, he sure picked a hell of a time to start", she muttered to no one. Della was usually a very confident woman, but she couldn't help beginning to doubt herself. Maybe he was losing interest. Della stopped to stare at her reflection in the mirror and tugged at the slight wrinkles at the corners of her eyes. I'm certainly not getting any younger, she thought with a sigh. While Della would never doubt his love for her, she couldn't help but wonder if, after over forty years, the flame that had ignited their passion for so long was beginning to die out. Biting her lip, Della fought back a wave of emotion and glanced in the mirror one last time. Having had enough personal reflection, she decided to go out onto the balcony and relax in the Jacuzzi. Slipping into steaming, bubbly water she sank beneath its frothiness and studied the disappearing Denver skyline. So deeply relaxed was she, that she didn't hear the phone when it rang twenty minutes later.

Perry stood in the lobby of KGGY, listening to the insistent ring of Della's phone. When he heard the deep, luscious voice that always sent shivers coursing through him come over the answering machine, he decided to hang up. Perry had called to tell her the interview had been canceled and to ask if he could still come over. Maybe it's best, he thought to himself. Perry knew that she was upset with him for canceling their plans, and he didn't feel like leaving for Kansas City tomorrow on the heels of a blowup. It wasn't as though he'd wanted to cancel tonight. A lot of people felt Congressman Kimball had gotten off on a technicality, and he thought he owed it to the Congressman to try to turn the tide. Typically, Della was very supportive of him doing things like this to help their clients. Canceling or rearranging their plans was commonplace, and Della usually took it in stride. Yet Perry also knew it had been several weeks since they had been able to spend any quality time together outside of work. They were both missing one another, to put it mildly.

Perry briefly considered showing up on her doorstep unannounced. However, not wanting to risk any more of her ire, he decided to go home and pack, so he could get to the office early and work on his speech. As he drove through the dark streets of Denver, Perry smiled to himself, for he knew the reason behind his Della's frustrations. He remembered when he first imposed the hands-off rule. In the beginning, Perry had the best of intentions. He wanted to be clear-minded and without distractions, so he could concentrate on giving his clients the best possible defense. For Della Street had proven to be quite the distraction. Perry quickly learned that, despite what they did or didn't do, he was continually plagued with desire for her- mind, body, and soul. But it was something else he'd learned that had spurred him into maintaining the hands-off rule despite its lack of effectiveness; after their little 'breaks' their reunions could only be described as mind-blowing. That alone had given him the incentive to keep up the pretense. Now, as he entered his empty apartment, all he could think of was the warmth of her body and how much he wanted her. He sighed. It was going to be a long night.

The next morning, Perry sat in his office, attempting to focus on preparing his speech while simultaneously checking his watch. The whole time he wished he could conjure her appearance with a snap of his fingers. He had woken Ken at an ungodly hour with several menial tasks and knew the boy wouldn't be in the office before noon. Perry was planning to use the opportunity for a little send-off, which he hoped would make Miss Street a much happier woman. Just as he finished imagining every last detail in his mind, he heard her enter the outer office.

"Perry, I have been trying and trying to reach you," she didn't even attempt to hide the irritated edge in her voice.

"I turned the phone off. I've been working on my speech. Came in at 6:00."

"Are you still planning on going to that meeting in Kansas City?"

"My plane leaves at noon." He lowered his hand as she fiddled with the phone, prepared to trail it slowly up the back of her silk-clad leg.

"But I… I thought you'd stay around so you could talk to the police."

"Why?" Her statement halted his train of thought and his intended indecencies.

"Because you were there and everything."

Now he was thoroughly confused, "Della, what are you talking about?"

"The morning newspaper. I'm sorry… I uh…I assumed you knew," Della said as she showed Perry the newspaper.

Just then, Jillian Pope called asking for Perry's help. She'd been arrested for killing Brett Huston, and of course, Perry couldn't turn her down. After Perry left to meet with her, Della allowed her train of thought to wander. Well, at least he'll be staying in town even if it is to take on another case. Of course, that means we're back to the 'hands-off' rule. She let out a humorless laugh. Not that we'd gotten around to being hands-on, she thought to herself. At that moment, a coy grin spread across the usually demure Miss Street's face. Della had always respected Perry's wishes regarding their relationship during various cases, but this time...this time was going to be different. If she still had it in her, that is. If she still had it in her, Della Street was going to do everything in her power to make sure Mr. Mason rued the day he ever thought up that stupid rule.

Late that afternoon, Perry returned from interviewing suspects at the studio. Della had made sure her make-up and hair were perfect and applied fresh perfume. When he entered, she was typing away at the computer, pretending to be oblivious to his entrance.

Perry took the opportunity to study her. She wasn't just lovely, or attractive, or pretty. No, his Della was an absolutely stunning beauty. She was wearing a new red suit that refined that beauty and fit her like a glove. His hands fairly itched to run over her delicate curves. Even after all these years, his desire for her was stronger than ever. His plans for that morning had been put on hold due to Jillian's call for help, and now he was feeling the effects of that desire. A desire which had been disregarded for far too long. Quietly, he walked up behind her and began playing with the curls at the nape of her neck. As his fingers traced the line of her neck, he heard her let out a sigh. "You are so very, very beautiful." Perry bent down and placed several kisses on her neck. "I've missed you."

She still didn't look at him. "I was beginning to wonder if you even noticed." Della was unable to hide the hurt in her voice, and she didn't really care.

Perry spun her chair around and pulled her to him. Her body was slightly reticent, not melting into him as she normally did. He couldn't believe that she would doubt, even for a second, how beautiful she was to him. Of course, he knew that he hadn't done much to remind her of that lately. "Della…" He looked at her with narrowed, darkened eyes, "I know things have been hectic lately, and I'm sorry for last night. When this is all over, I promise to do everything in my power to remind you of that." His lips nibbled hers in a soft, sweet kiss. "I promise," he swore again before kissing her deeply, allowing his mouth to wander toward the softness of her neck once again. He was quickly becoming intoxicated by her. Against the silken skin, he murmured, "But in the meantime, please never doubt that I love you. You are everything to me, Della Street."

Della could feel the heat twisting low in her belly. If there was one thing Perry Mason knew more than the law, it was how to kiss a girl senseless. And Della Street was positively weak in the knees. The desire to melt into him was overwhelming, so when he tried to kiss her again she pulled back, trying to gather her resolve. "You better stop that before we get caught. Ken is in his office, and he's waiting to go over the evidence from today. We wouldn't want to scandalize the boy by not acting our age." Perry was taken aback by her lack of enthusiasm, and she used the opportunity to her advantage. Della reached up and gave him a quick peck then, ever so lightly, she ran her tongue across his bottom lip, causing him to jump. Her voice turned low and throaty, "Besides, we're on a case, remember?" She rubbed her hand firmly over his chest. Then, before he could react, she turned away and went to get Ken.

PDPDPDPDPDPDPDPDPD

Ken had just left to try to get a line on Joe College. "Della, what time does Gary Slate go on tonight?"

"At 11:30." Della glanced at the clock; it was just now 7:00.

Perry stood and walked over to her. "Come here."

"Perry…"

"Come here," Perry demanded again. He pulled her close, burying his face in her neck, and taking in the smell of his favorite perfume.

"Perry, we don't have time for this. I need to run home, get a bath, and get changed."

"Mmmm, I could help you with that, you know," he offered, nuzzling his nose into her soft curls.

"Nooooo, Mr. Mason, you can not. You have to sit down and finish this injunction. I have to get it filed tomorrow." Della bit her lip to keep from smiling. The look on his face couldn't be described as anything but a childish pout. When she tore herself from his arms, he looked like a little boy who'd had his favorite toy taken away. Well, Counselor, chew on that for a while, she couldn't help but think. After gathering the notes he needed, she told him he could pick her up at 10:00 and left him still pouting.

When Perry arrived at her apartment later that evening, he was still trying to get over her nonchalant attitude towards him. He couldn't help but feel that this time he had pushed that ridiculous hands-off rule a little too far. Shaking his head as if to clear his mind, Perry rang her doorbell. What he saw when she opened the door caused his heart to skip a beat and stole the breath straight from his lungs. There she stood in a deep red négligée that flowed smoothly over the soft curve of her hips and cupped her breasts to perfection.

"Oh, Perry, I'm so sorry. I'm running behind. I thought I would relax a bit and read a book, but I must have dozed off. Please, come in, and I'll hurry and get dressed." Walking towards the bar, she left him still standing at the door with eyes bulging and mouth slightly ajar. A self-satisfied smile crept across her face as she quickly poured him a drink before reclaiming her poker face. When she turned back around, he was still standing in the doorway, staring at her. Earlier, Della had decided it wouldn't kill him to know what he missed out on last night, but she had hoped he would suffer just a little. If the look on his face was any indication, it was more than just a little. "Darling? Perry!"

Finally, he pulled himself out of his trance and took his first breath since she'd opened the door. He moved to where she was standing next to the couch. "Della...you know…we…we could… That is, I could question Mr. Slate…later," he barely managed to croak, reaching out and running his hand down her smooth, silk-clad hip.

Della sat him down on the couch and handed him his drink. "No, silly, I'll only be a minute. Besides, I'm looking forward to it."

Utter disappointment spread across his face. "Oh, okay."

"Perry, are you okay? You look a little pale."

"Oh…no…I'm… I'm fine, Darling." Perry swallowed hard as his eyes once again traveled up and down her body.

"Okay. I'll just be a minute." Della quickly walked to her bedroom, and purposely left the door open. She knew that from where she had placed him on the couch, he had a direct view of where she now stood. Though Della had to admit, this was harder than she thought it was going to be. Fending him off when all she wanted was to take him into her bed was no easy task. Taking a few deep breaths to calm herself, Della lifted her foot to the slipper bench and reached for her black, lace top stocking. With a slow, effortless motion, she pulled it onto her near-perfect leg, smoothing her hands over her leg as she did so.

Afterward, she repeated the action with the other stocking. Della then slowly slid each strap of her négligée off her shoulders, allowing it to fall to the floor. She heard Perry's strangled moan all the way from the living room, a moan which nearly reverberated through her own desire ridden body. With shaking hands, Della pulled on the rest of her clothing and went to the mirror to check out the results. Her blouse, while not overly revealing, was quite low cut for her, and the skirt was shorter than what she usually wore. Typically, she would never have worn this blouse without some type of shell or slip underneath it, but, for tonight, this suited her purpose perfectly. Slipping into her heels, Della complimented herself silently. Not too bad for an old broad. For the final touch, she removed the stopper from the perfume he loved, caught his eye in the mirror, and ran it seductively down her throat and between her breasts. She smiled, knowing he loved to trail his lips and tongue along that very path. Seeing him inhale deeply, Della gave him a quick wink in the mirror and went to grab her things.

Perry sat on the couch, trying to gain control over his thoughts and his body. He'd nearly come out of his skin when he saw her drawing that stocking smoothly up her gorgeous leg. He had sat kneading his thighs, trying to maintain his self-control when she let her gown fall to the floor, reminding him of all he'd neglected these past few weeks. And when she had caught his eye, and ran her perfume between her breasts, he had been more than willing to let that self-control fly in the wind. God, I'm an idiot, he thought. He had just begun to get his breath back when she walked into the living room. She wore a striking black suit with a straight, short skirt and a low cut white blouse that on Della was a perfect combination of class and sex appeal that he couldn't wait to explore. Add to that the black stockings and sexy slingback black heels, and Perry Mason knew without a doubt that he was the biggest fool on the face of the Earth. Even after all these years, he still couldn't get enough of Della Street. The smell of her, the taste of her skin, the sounds she made when he touched her just right, the feel of her supple body beneath him as he moved inside her.

"Okay, I'm ready to go."

Perry was still struggling to control himself. "Della, really…we don't have to do this tonight. We could just...stay in." Della had to stifle a giggle as she realized that her Mr. Mason, the great orator of courtrooms across the country, was having extreme difficulty putting together a coherent thought.

Looking at him, she smiled. Apparently, she was doing an even better job of this than she thought. She brushed his lips lightly with hers and traced the shell of his ear with a perfectly manicured nail, for it was a place where she knew he was especially vulnerable. Feeling him shiver and hearing his sigh, she reassured him. "Perry, I told you I'm looking forward to it. Besides, I'm all dolled up now. We can't waste my efforts by staying in."

"I can assure you, my dear, your efforts wouldn't be wasted in the least."

"Oh Perry, really, you know we need to get that interview. Come on, let's go."

Perry released a loud sigh, and again the pout returned. "Alright."

Once in the car, Della began trying to talk to him about the case. For his part, Perry was trying to get his mind off of her, and she was not making it any easier. Della turned to face him, causing her blouse to gape even more, and providing him an unobstructed view of what Perry Mason thought was the closest thing he'd get to Heaven here on Earth. After that, he blew out a deep breath and grew silent. He focused his eyes on the road and did the only thing he knew to do to squelch the feelings he was having; picture a bellicose Hamilton Burger and his 'incompetent, irrelevant, and immaterial' over and over again in his head. Perry blew out yet another breath, unsure whether he would survive this night or not.

After settling themselves at their table, Perry ordered a very stiff drink, and Della had to admit she was beginning to feel a bit sorry for him. It had been a long time since she had seen him at such a loss for words, or so obviously uncomfortable. As Mr. Slate came to the stage, Della attempted to comfort Perry with a firm caress and squeeze of his thigh. Except what she meant as comfort nearly caused him to jump out of his skin. My, he was wound tight. "You look very handsome tonight." Her eyes were darkened with desire as her resolve weakened just a bit. But only a bit.

He removed her hand from his leg and gently rubbed her palm before carrying it to his lips and kissing her fingers. His need and his love for her shone in his eyes. "You look absolutely incredible, as always. And as always," he glanced about the room at all the gazes that were directed towards her, "I'm not the only one to notice."

"Oh, Perry, you're too kind. Now you better stop looking at me and direct your attention towards the real reason we're here tonight." Della removed her hand from his.

"That's not an easy thing to do, you know."

Della gave him a small smile. She was still feeling a tad guilty for doubting how much she meant to him, but she resolved once again to remain stalwart in her objective. Della wanted to make sure he never again thought of 'hands-off.'

Perry took in the warmth of her smile and her gaze, as always he was amazed. His Della was an incredible beauty. When she glanced over at him, there weren't words in existence that could describe the way she made him feel. And her smile, oh that smile. It was truly indescribable. Taking a long drink of liquid fortification, Perry forced his attention away from his beautiful lady.

After having alienated Gary Slate, they decided to leave. Perry wrapped his arm possessively around her waist. Yet again noticing all the blatant stares that men, both young and old, gave his beautiful secretary and the love of his life. Once outside, he could stand it no longer and turned her in his arms. "Della Street, if you don't let me kiss you soon, I think I might burst." Except he didn't wait for permission, all he heard was a whimpered gasp as one arm held her fast to him, and his fingers wound their way through her soft curls. His mouth descended upon hers, tasting her, wordlessly telling her how sorry he was, showing her how much he wanted and needed her.

Della returned his kisses with a passion all her own. After a few moments, she forced herself away from him. "Perry, people are staring."

"Let them stare," he growled, pulling her back to him.

Della let him kiss her a few minutes more before she started laughing.

"Miss Street, just what is so funny," he asked, clearly annoyed.

Still giggling, she replied, "I was just picturing what we must look like. Here we are a couple of old geezers, nearly in our seventies, making out in front of a nightclub." Tears started to pour down her face as her laughter grew even louder.

Perry started laughing too as he wiped away the streaks of her tears. "Just think of it as us giving all the youngsters something to look up to. Besides, what do you expect me to do when you look like that, dressed like… like that," he growled, pulling her flush against him once again and allowing her to feel all of what she did to him.

Della turned her big, innocent, doe eyes up at him. "Dressed like this? Just how am I dressed?"

"Like the… Oh, never mind."

She took his hand. "Come on, Perry, let's get out of here. I'm tired, tomorrow is going to be a long day, and I need my beauty rest." Just as quickly as his humor appeared, it was replaced once again by the pout.

As Della seated herself in the car, she pulled slightly at the hem of her already short skirt and crossed her legs, exposing a good portion of her thigh.

Almost immediately, Perry noticed her exposed legs, and once again, his breath hitched in his throat. His heart started to race, and he longed to caress those long, perfect legs from top to bottom. She was determined to kill him. That had to be it. Letting out an audible growl Perry started the car, focused his eyes on the road, and returned his thoughts to Burger. By the time they had arrived at her building, Perry had managed to calm himself again. He felt as though that was all he'd done all day long. "Della, would you like for me to see you to your door?"

She looked at him lovingly, "That's very sweet of you, but I'll be fine. I'm so tired I'm going to collapse into bed and fall right to sleep."

Letting out yet another sigh, his disappointment was very apparent. "Della, I meant it when I said I have missed you." He laid a hand on that same glorious expanse of thigh he had noticed earlier, caressing her with his thumb. Perry could already taste her sweet skin and allowed his eyes to caress her form, lingering in certain areas, and leaving no doubt to the meaning of his words, "All of you."

"I know, Darling," Della leaned over, kissing him deeply. Squeezing his knee, she allowed her hand to lightly caress his inner thigh, feeling his intake of breath- quick and deep. "I've missed you too, but you have to focus all your energy into figuring out who killed Brett Houston." She gave his thigh one more light pass before giving him a peck on the cheek and swinging her legs out of the car. Before leaving, Della turned and stuck her head back in the car. Giving him a big grin, she taunted him, "Besides, hands-off, remember?" Then she shut the car door and hurried into her lobby.

A grumbling Perry pulled back out into the traffic and headed home, both very alone and very dissatisfied. After an icy shower, he climbed into his cold bed. As soon as he closed his eyes, the thoughts of her returned. His mind reflected the day, thinking through every frustrating moment when suddenly it hit him. Perry sat straight up. Mason, you are a damn idiot. That woman knew exactly what the hell she was doing to you. She was mad at you for continuing to push that stupid hands-off rule, and she was making you pay for it. Perry couldn't help but grin. Well, she did a damn good job of it. You've acted like a teenage boy in heat all day today. He jumped out of bed, threw on some clothes, and grabbed his keys.

Across town, Della Street lay alone in her bed. Still unable to go to sleep, she kept thinking about all the growls, stares, moans and pouts that she had managed to extract from her lawyer. You definitely did what you set out to do, Della. Except you're still in bed alone, and you're both miserable. Her little charade had been fun, but she'd had enough. She put on the new negligee that he had so obviously approved of and covered it with her full trench coat. Grabbing her keys and her purse, she headed to the door. She swung the door open and smiled. There he stood just about to ring her bell.

Neither one of them said a word. Standing in the doorway, they each stared at the other for several long moments. Della raked her eyes over him from top to bottom, taking him in. His hair was slightly disheveled. Several buttons of his shirt were undone at the neck, and the sleeves were rolled up. Both allowing a sprinkling of gray, soft hair to peek through. Della could nearly feel the coarse brush of that hair across her skin. The heat between them was palpable. Della stepped aside as Perry wordlessly entered and shut the door. Purse and keys fell unheeded to the floor as he undid the belt on her coat. Perry groaned at the sight of what she was and wasn't wearing underneath it. Quickly, it too fell unnoticed to the floor as he pushed it off her shoulders. Now it was Perry's turn as his eyes lingered slowly over luscious curves playing peek-a-boo with him through their deep red, silk covering. Simultaneously they reached out to each other. His hands ran in every direction over the smooth silk, hers … .

Suddenly, he pushed her away from him. Taking two steps back, he leaned self-assuredly against the door, arms crossed in front of him as his blue eyes pointedly swept over her once again. He examined the flush of passion on her face, her ragged breathing, and the desire that he knew was making her nearly listless. "Take it off, Della."

One perfectly manicured eyebrow reached heavenward as she struggled to slow her breathing, "Excuse me?"

"You heard me, take it off."

Della ran one elegant hand over the lace edging her breasts. "I thought... I thought you liked it."

His tongue wet his bottom lip before he spoke. "Oh, I like it just fine, but I think it's done all that could be expected of it." Della glanced down, a small smile playing at the corners of her lips as she took in his meaning. "I want to watch you undress for me, sweetheart. Take it off."

Perry drank in the sight of her as she seemingly contemplated his orders, her smile spreading across luscious lips, elegant fingers playing at one crimson, silk strap. Biting her lower lip in that way they both knew drove him crazy, she gingerly lowered the strap over one creamy shoulder, followed by the other. Inch by inch smooth, creamy skin was revealed to him as she pushed the négligée down to settle at her waist. Perry clenched and unclenched his hands at his side. His palms itched to reach out and touch her softness, his voice gruff with longing, "All of it, honey."

Della watched him watching her as he leaned a little more heavily on the door for support and with a final push over her hips, crimson silk billowed to the floor leaving her completely bare before him, save the pair of black heels she had slipped on in her hurried way to the door earlier. The heated look in his bright, blue eyes now darkening with his desire caused a fire to form low in her belly, and her tongue darted out to moisten her lips.

The sight before him made his chest ache. The idea that this beautiful creature would offer herself to him in this way, the thought that she loved him as much as he loved her, was incredibly humbling to a man like Perry Mason. For a moment, all he could do was drink her in. His heated gaze swept over her beautiful, perfect face, voluptuous satiny breasts, the soft swell of her belly, the patch of dark curls which hid her most intimate of places, and long, shapely legs that he ached to feel wrapped around him. Four weeks was far, far too long, and for what seemed like the hundredth time that day, Perry admonished himself for being such a fool.

A tongue-tied Perry Mason was a rarity, but he certainly felt that way as he tried to force intelligible words from his lips. "In case I haven't told you lately...you are...the most beautiful woman... I have ever seen in my life, and I would rather die a thousand deaths than for you to ever feel anything but just that. I love you more than life, Della Street."

Tears sprung to her eyes at his declaration. Even knowing how much Perry Mason loved and cared for her, every woman needed to be reminded now and then.

"Come here, sweetheart," he beckoned to her.

Slowly, with hips swaying, she took the few steps to close the distance between the two of them. "I love you, Perry Mason," she whispered. Half-parted, crimson lips lifted expectantly, and Perry wasted no time in tasting their sweetness. Unable to withstand the yearning inside him, Perry caressed one large hand over a soft hip. Kissing her slowly, his lips slid hotly over hers before he moved to her neck, settling right below her ear, softly and reverently. Eliciting soft sighs and a strangled moan from deep within her throat, caused him to throb with want.

Della's soft sounds of passion proved to be his final undoing as he lifted her into his arms as though she were nothing. "Perry, your knee."

"Forget about my knee. You've caused me more discomfort today than my knee ever could."

She looked at him innocently, but before she could get a word out, he had overtaken her mouth once more.

PDPDPDPDPDPDPDPDPDPD

Thoroughly exhausted by their long-needed reunion, Perry slid next to her and gathered her into his arms. They lay wrapped in one another's embrace. Arms and legs were intertwined into a jumbled mess. After his heart had stopped racing and his breathing had returned to something similar to normal, Perry lifted her chin, so he could look into her eyes. "Damn you, woman. You all but killed me today, but you already knew that didn't you?"

Her eyes were wide with innocence. "I… I was just…"

"You were just paying me back for everything I'd put you through with that damnable hands-off rule."

"Oh, Perry…yes. Yes, I was. I just miss you so much sometimes. I know...I know we still see each other every day, but…"

"But it's just not the same. I know. Believe me, I know."

"Then why did you always insist on not making love to me?"

Perry realized that complete honesty about their spectacular reunions as the driving force behind his rule was going to get him into big trouble. He'd never thought about how truly difficult it was on her. Not ready to risk her ire, he decided that avoiding that subject was probably best for now. "Well, Della, I'm not really sure, but let's just say that next to taking that judgeship, instigating that hands-off rule was the dumbest, most absurd thing I have ever done."

She smiled up at him, wrapping her arms around his neck. "I'm glad to know you've seen the error of your ways." Della pulled his mouth down to hers and kissed him deeply. After she released him, Perry buried his face in her neck, breathing in the scent that was so uniquely Della Street. He ran his hand up her leg and over her hip before pausing to stroke her breast. "Counselor, what are you doing?"

"Hmmm? Why I'm showing you how much I love you, of course."

"Didn't you already do that," she gasped.

"Technically, yes, but as someone who prefers to be extremely detailed and thorough in my arguments, I feel the need to further my presentation. I'm going to make sure you know just how much I love and appreciate every inch of your beautiful body." As she laughed a deep and sultry laugh, the great and powerful Perry Mason disappeared beneath the duvet and once again proceeded to do just that.