A/N: Thank you to Mascaret and Organanation. A special thank you to Mascaret for encouraging me to post this. This is in honor of Angela Lansbury's 95th birthday, which has very little to do with this fic, but it works for me. It's still 16 October in California. Thank you for the wonderful and sweet comments. Enjoy!

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Della and Perry's House - A Los Angeles Suburb

Della and Perry were cuddled up in their bed, her head on his chest, and his arms around her.

"Just for the record, there were no other women in San Francisco. There have never been any other women for me."

It was in that minute, that Della remembered something she had conveniently forgotten.

San Francisco - July 1984

Della thumbed through a People magazine that she had bought for the plane ride to San Francisco, and after the hundredth time of doing so, she tossed it aside, leaned her head back, and went back over the conversation that she planned on having with Perry regarding their relationship. She was determined to get him alone at some point, and to explain everything. The truth was, she missed him terribly, and she was sure she could make things right - hopefully - if they could just talk. Perhaps she could convince him to take a walk with her after dinner. That was just the thing! It would give them plenty of time to talk, without Paul listening. She set about rehearsing exactly what she was going to say.

The ringing of the phone brought her out of her reverie. She hesitated in answering it; it wasn't her phone, her apartment, or her man anymore. No, best to just leave it be. If it was important, they'd phone back.

The answering machine clicked on after the fourth ring, Perry's voice coming through it loud and clear. "You have reached the residence of Perry Mason. Leave me a message, and I'll get back with you as soon as possible." The machine beeped, and then she heard. "Perry, dear, it's Gloria. I just wanted to remind you of our dinner date for this Saturday. Could I impose on you to bring the same wine you brought last time? It was scrumptious, and I promise this time to not drink more than I should. I know that you have a guest, which is probably why you're not answering my phone call. Do feel free to bring him along if he's still staying with you then. You've told me so much about Paul that I'd love to meet him. Phone me if you want, to let me know you got this message. Do not phone me to cancel, or to tell me you're not bringing wine. Bye dear!"

Della paced the floor until Perry and Paul came back with the food approximately 20 minutes later. She was fairly certain that she had washed away any evidence of her tears after hearing that phone message, but Perry was awfully observant of things. She would have to avoid looking at him - and speaking to him - if she didn't want him to know that her heart was broken. Once more.

This time though, it was not her fault.

Perry and Della's House - A Los Angeles Suburb

"Really? No other women. Ever." This was more a disbelieving statement than a question.

"Never. I waited for you my whole life, and then I got you." This was almost entirely true. The only other woman that he had ever loved - though not nearly as much as he loved Della - was out East anyway, and it had been far too many years for him to even consider her anymore. It was long before he had even met Della, anyway.

Della countered. "Really? What about Gloria? Don't you consider her a woman?"

Perry looked puzzled. "Gloria? Who's - oh, Gloria. Of course she's a woman. But what about her?"

"One of the reasons I lost my nerve to talk to you in San Francisco was because of that charming little message that your girlfriend left you on your answering machine, Perry dear," she added, in an imitation of Gloria. "Remember? She invited you to dinner, and asked you to bring the wine? Which she promised not to drink too much of this time? She even told you to bring Paul. How generous of her, considering he'd be a third wheel for your date."

"Now who has the wrong end of the stick," Perry retorted. "You never told me that you heard that message. If you had asked me about her, I'd have told you."

"I'll bet."

"Honey," he placed a soft kiss to her forehead. "Gloria is Gloria Deukmejian. You know, the Governor's wife? She invited me to dinner, which she had done a few times before, and as for Paul being the third wheel….you can't be a third wheel when there are four people together. I think he would have liked to have met the Governor and his wife. So would you. The only reason that I cancelled that, and didn't take both of you, is because I wanted you to myself. I promise you, there was no other woman. Since the first day I met you, there never has been. If I couldn't have you, I didn't want anyone else."

Della had the grace to turn pink. "I apologize, Perry. I jumped to conclusions, and I shouldn't have. I suppose I'm pushing my luck to ask for your forgiveness again."

"You have it. Now how about you allow me to complete my examination. You interrupted me, and I still have to make sure the surgeon did his job properly."

She placed her hand against his chest, effectively delaying his advances.

"That'll keep. First young man, what are you going to do about work? It seems to me you're unemployed, and as we both know, you don't do well with inactivity."

He kissed her before answering. "I was thinking of reopening my law practice. I can get a girl in to answer the phones, and Junior should do fine, when I need a private detective. I even checked, and I can get an office in the Brent Building. Astronomical rent, but Brent's son owns the building now, and apparently he remembers how nice we were to him as a child, and how you and Gertie always kept candy in a special drawer for him. Not that I needed it, and not that I asked for it, but he cut me a deal."

Della waited semi-patiently for him to mention what he would do for a secretary, and when no mention was made, she brought the subject up herself. "It seems as if you have everything planned out, Mr. Mason. Just one thing; don't you need a confidential secretary to be your right hand? If you do, I happen to know of a woman who has spectacular qualifications."

"No, I have decided I have no need for a confidential secretary," he advised. "You'll have to tell your friend that she'll have to secure employment elsewhere."

She bit back the sarcastic comment that was on the tip of her tongue, and settled for something less savage. "I suppose if you think that you can do the work on your own, you're free to hire - or not hire - whomever you choose."

Perry continued on as if he hadn't heard a word she had said. "No, a confidential secretary is not needed….and I find the term outdated anyway. What I want is the world's greatest executive assistant. Now, if you know of anyone with those qualifications, you just tell her that I'm not interested….because I happen to know of the perfect woman for that position, and I won't accept anyone else."

"You do know that Executive Assistants make more money, don't you?"

"Honey, whatever I pay you still won't be enough. But I can offer you some incredible fringe benefits. Would you like to see the package I'm offering?"

Della worked to hold in her laughter, but to no avail. "You can be such a teenager sometimes. I just saw it….but I'd love to see it again."

"That can be arranged." He gave her another lingering kiss. "I love you, Della."

"I love you too, Chief. Now get back to your exam."