"You're sure you don't mind? I could-." Perry Mason listened for a moment. "That would be great. I'll see you then." He was smiling when he hung up the phone. Della finished her errands early and had accepted his offer of a late supper. Granted, he'd asked her to bring a couple of files he wanted to work on, but that was just pretense. He would open a bottle of wine, light a fire... His smile broadened into a grin.

The suit coat and tie had long been discarded, but he unfastened another button on his shirt and rolled up his sleeves as he made his way into the kitchen to pick out the wine. He pondered whether or not to put out cheese and crackers to snack on or whether to just wait until the delivery boy arrived with the sandwiches he'd ordered from the deli downstairs.

There was a knock at the door. He popped a cracker into his mouth and glanced at his watch. How had the delivery arrived so quickly? He opened the door with that question on his lips.

Millicent James stood in the doorway. She was evidently crying.

"Miss James! What's the matter?"

"Oh, Perry!" she exclaimed and threw herself into his arms. "I - I need your help."

He drew her into the room and closed the door. The visitor buried her face in his chest, shuddering violently against his body. Frustration flashed across his features as he began to unwind her arms from his torso. "What's going on?" he demanded.

"I'm so scared, and-and y-you are the only one I can turn to," she said. "You make me feel so safe and I'm not afraid when I'm with you, Perry."

"Then stop crying and tell me what's going on," he said gruffly.

"Someone is following me, I'm almost sure of it. It has to be Jason Cooper, or someone he hired." The tears had ceased. "I didn't know what else to do, so I came here. I know it's late, but I was sure you wouldn't mind." She looked up at him, her face a picture of innocence.

Mason looked at her directly and her gaze dropped before his scrutiny. "Why would Cooper follow you at this point? Are you doing something you're not telling me?"

"Of course not! I've followed your advice explicitly. That's why I hired you in the first place - I knew I could trust you. In fact, it was that trust that brought me here. I knew you'd know just what to do." She stopped and drew a breath. "Although," her voice took on a coquettish tone, "I must say I'm surprised to find you at home, alone. All work and no play, eh, Perry?" She took a step towards him, as if planning to wrap her arms around him once more.

Mason sidestepped her. "You think someone followed you here?"

"I'm all but sure of it," she breathed.

Mason nodded. "Sit down," he demanded, pointing at the chair closest to the door. Millicent did as she was told and played at pulling the hem of her skirt down over her knees, without really succeeding in moving it. Mason picked up the phone and dialed the night number for the Drake Detective Agency. The night operator connected him to Paul Drake who'd just come in following dinner to collect his messages.

"I need you to shadow a shadow, Paul." Mason explained the situation and that he wanted Miss James followed by Drake's men when she left the apartment, hopefully to discover who else was on the job. "How long will it take to get someone in place?"

Paul chuckled into the phone. "I'm guessing she caught on to the shadow you had me put on her. She must be where she can hear this conversation, right?"

"That's right," Perry said.

"I'll head over there now. I'll leave word for one of the guys to relieve me as soon as I can," Paul said. "We'll shadow ourselves for a while."

"Great. I'll send her down in 15 minutes. You know her by sight?"

Paul indicated that he did and the connection was broken. Mason hung up the phone and glanced at his watch, noting the time Miss James would leave. It didn't escape his notice that Della should be arriving at any minute.

"I don't know if I like the idea of going back out there alone, Perry," Millicent said.

"You won't be alone," Mason was quick to assure her. "The best detective in the business is going to trail you and make sure you stay safe. Just go on about your daily business."

"Why don't you come with me? I was headed out to dinner..." She stopped when a knock sounded on the door.

Mason reached it in two long strides and threw it open. He grabbed Della Street's arm and all but dragged her inside. "Hello, Miss Street! I'm so glad you made it. I really need those files."

Della raised an eyebrow in surprise, then looked past him to the blonde in the chair. Barely missing a beat, she held up the briefcase she'd brought with her. "Have them right here, Chief. We can't afford to waste time – these documents have to be finished and filed before the court convenes in the morning. Do you have a table where I can set up a portable typewriter?"

Mason cleared his throat and indicated Millicent James, who'd watched the little scene with undisguised interest. "Miss James was having a bit of trouble and stopped by to see if I could help."

"Very wise," she said, apparently just noticing the other woman in the apartment. Della's gaze wasn't altogether friendly. "That's what lawyers are for, after all."

"Perry is more than just a lawyer," Millicent purred. She sidestepped Della, who made her way to the low cocktail table in the middle of the living room. As Della opened her briefcase and began laying out the files that Mason had requested, Millicent attached herself once more to Mason's arm. "You're more of a knight in shining armor, Perry," she said, gazing up at him.

Mason took a deep breath and chanced a glance over his client's head to connect with the eyes of his secretary. Arms crossed, and eyebrows raised in silent challenge, Della couldn't completely hide her amusement at his predicament. It was also obvious that she had no intention of helping him out of it.

He disengaged himself from Millicent's grasp and crossed to the window. "I see Paul Drake's car just pulling up to the curb." He turned back towards the room. "You will be fine now, Miss James. Just go about your normal business and he will be following along behind. He'll get a line on anyone else who's interested in your activities."

Millicent James hesitated perceptibly and pressed her hand to her chest. "Are...are you certain it's safe?"

"Positive," Mason said dryly.

Della seated herself on the couch, crossed her legs and eyed their client carefully.

"I have to trust you, don't I?" Millicent smiled warmly at the lawyer. "I know you'd never allow me to be in any danger, Perry. That's why I first came to you, you know. Everyone says that when you take on a case, a client, you would go to your grave to protect them."

Mason ignored the comment as he crossed the room to the door. He held it open. "Good luck, Miss James. Please don't hesitate to call if you have any more trouble." She did not appear to catch the slight emphasis he placed on the word 'call'.

Millicent James took a deep breath, squared her shoulders and walked through the door, trailing her fingers across Mason's chest as she passed next to him. "I know you mean that, Perry. If there are any problems, you'll be the first to know." Perry smiled weakly and shut the door. He turned towards Della.

Silence hung between them for several moments before Della burst out laughing. "Oh, Chief," she said at last. "I knew she had a bit of a crush on you, but, wow!"

Mason crossed his arms and glared at her. "A fat lot of help you were!"

"What did you expect me to do - grab her by the hair and toss her down the stairs?" Della grinned at him.

"I was hoping more for throwing yourself into my arms and kissing me senseless," he said.

Della slowly uncrossed her legs and rose from the sofa. Mason uncrossed his arms and reached out for her. She stepped into his embrace as he lowered his head to hers. The lawyer moaned softly as he captured her lips with his. Della's arms snaked up around his neck and she pulled him closer. Long moments passed in near silence.

Eventually, Della pulled back slightly and asked, "Senseless yet?"

"Completely. I think I may faint," he growled.

"Well, then," she said and patted his cheek lightly. "We should get to work."

"Della, you know I didn't call you over here just to work, don't you?" He ran his hands seductively down her sides and over her hips. She clasped his hands in hers and brought them away from her body.

"I know." She took a breath. "So why don't we get busy and get the work out of the way, then maybe we can discuss whatever else it was that you had in mind?"

"Slave driver!" he charged. She arched an eyebrow in reply and indicated the files laid out on the table.

PDPDPDPDPDPDPDPDPD

Hours later, the only sounds in the room were the log crackling in the fireplace and the heavy, even breathing of Perry Mason as he slept on his side, stretched out on the floor in front of the hearth. His arm circled Della's waist. She lay along side him, head resting in the crook of his other arm. Sparks that fell from the burning log reflected in her eyes. The log burned through and fell in two pieces to the floor of the firebox.

She should have been completely relaxed. They'd had a simple but wonderful dinner. The wine had been a perfect compliment and left her feeling warm and pliable. What started out as gentle exploratory kisses quickly flared into something more passionate. They didn't even manage to make it to the bedroom, but instead pulled a blanket from the back of the couch and settled onto the floor where they still lay, legs tangled together. She smiled and snuggled more closely to him, luxuriating in the feel of his naked body alongside her own. His arm tightened around her momentarily, then his breathing evened out once more.

Della turned her eyes back to the fire. Her expression became thoughtful.

She started slightly when he pressed his lips onto the top of her head. "What are you thinking about?" he whispered. He shifted behind her and began to kiss a trail from the back of her ear, down her neck.

"Millicent James," she answered.

His mouth abruptly stopped its exploration of the soft skin on her shoulder. "You really are worse than I am, Della." He chuckled softly. "Why," he asked as his fingertips grazed the side of her breast and then moved down her side to her hip, "are you thinking about her? At a time like this?"

Della sighed and turned towards him. "She worries me."

"You can't be serious. I don't even know how she got my address, Della and I certainly didn't..."

She laughed. "I'm not jealous, Perry!" Her expression turned more serious. "There's just something about her that doesn't ring true."

Mason gazed at her thoughtfully. "That's not surprising. How often do our clients tell us the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth?"

She shrugged. "This is different."

"Feminine intuition?" he asked, smiling.

"No. Well, yes, I guess." Della bit the inside of her bottom lip and looked down at his chest, trailing her fingernails over the muscles of his abdomen, causing him to pull her closer. "There's just something...off about her. She's not the first client to fall for you," she gave him a wicked smile and tweaked his nipple. He yelped and rolled over on top of her, stifling her movements. She giggled and pushed at his chest. He lifted his body slightly so she could breathe. "Not the first," she repeated, "but definitely the most odd."

Mason lay back on his side and looked at her seriously. "You're right, as usual. I'm going to keep her under surveillance for a few more days. Just to see what Paul can come up with. I can't afford to take any chances in this case."

"Good idea," Della replied. She kissed the spot she'd pinched moments before.

"I have another good idea," he said, pulling her body against his. His mouth claimed hers and her body fused with his. The dying light of the fire covered the lovers in a warm glow as they danced together once more.