Thanks for the wonderful comments! Glad to know you're reading! (And don't worry - I could never kill Perry or Della. They're safe with me. Most of the time...)

Perry Mason checked his reflection in the mirror. He adjusted his tie, flexed his arms and shot the cuffs of his dress shirt, making sure the ruby and gold cuff-links were secure. Although he looked calm and confident on the outside, he felt nothing like that on the inside.

He should have been elated, still riding high on the wave of triumph brought on by the successful conclusion of his case. Normally he would have been, but not tonight. He knew he'd made a huge mistake, but unfortunately he didn't know it until that stunning moment when everyone else in the courtroom learned who the killer was. While the spectators grasped that Frank Livesey was involved in the murderer, Perry realized that he should've known sooner – would have known sooner – if he'd listened to Della.

When his secretary complimented him as they filed out of the courtroom, he knew that she realized what he'd done. Typically effusive in her praise, this time she offered sincere congratulations, but her voice held little of its usual warmth. Normally her eyes would have sparkled and danced with pride in his accomplishment. This time she didn't even make eye contact.

They didn't have time to talk before the press descended, clamoring for an interview, but she'd at least agreed to his hastily whispered invitation to dinner.

Perry reached up to run a hand through his dark wavy hair, but caught sight of his reflection once more and stopped, hand in mid-air. He didn't want to waste time re-combing it. In fact, he didn't want to waste any more time, period. He needed to see Della.

He snatched up his dinner jacket from the back of a chair and walked quickly to the elevator. The drive to Della's apartment gave him time to do some thinking. He knew he needed to give some consideration to their relationship. He'd put it on the back burner, again, during his latest case.

'Yet another mistake,' he thought, jamming his foot on the accelerator. Mason weaved the big car in and out of the early evening traffic.

Even though Della Street was a bit of a conundrum for him, he loved her. He'd accepted that fact for a while now. Perry Mason lived his life according to his own rules. It worked well and he'd achieved phenomenal success. The thought of sharing that success with someone special had a certain appeal, but sharing his life meant changing his life. That sort of change didn't interest him. Until now.

Della drove him crazy, but she also made him feel complete. He wanted – needed – her. He'd never felt this way about any woman before. If he were completely honest with himself, he had to admit his expertise in dealing with people did not extend to his romantic relationships.

The occasional fling was something he was a master of -- no expectations, no commitments. He'd dated a lot of women - clients, starlets, women he met on his occasional nightclub crawls with Paul Drake. Until now he'd had no room in his life for a real connection. He'd tried it once before, when he thought he'd found a woman who shared his dreams and goals. That had been a spectacular failure. Once he realized how badly he'd misjudged that situation, he withdrew. He didn't need a woman in his life. He was much to busy and living at his preferred breakneck pace was easier on his own.

And then he found Della. Not long after she came into his world, he began to long for something more. She was different - special. She fit perfectly into the empty spaces in his existence. He knew full well that she had subtly, softly and completely unintentionally wound her way tightly into the fabric of his life. Life was better with her than without her, both professionally and personally.

Della could be the making of him, as his grandmother would say, if he handled this right.

If he made a misstep, it could mean not only the end of his chances for loving her with everything he had to offer, but it could mean the end of their working relationship as well. Was it worth the risk?

His logical mind had examined that question from every angle in the past few months and he'd eventually come to the conclusion that the safest course of action was the old fashioned one. He'd asked her to marry him weeks ago. To say that her reaction had been unexpected was the understatement of the year.

The music matched Perry's mood perfectly. He swayed in perfect time, holding Della Street as close as he dared. They circled the dance floor time and again, each lost in their own private thoughts. When the band finally took a break, Perry indicated the doors to the terrace opening off the ballroom. Della nodded her agreement and followed him, hand-in-hand, out into the night air.

The birthday party for Judge Harkins, who had been a mentor and friend to Mason over the years, was held at the jurist's huge country home. Thousands of twinkling stars lit the summer night, mirrored by the twinkling lights inside. The terrace offered a certain measure of privacy, away from the celebrations inside.

Mason drew Della to one side where a railing overlooked the fountain in the garden below. He smiled when he heard her small gasp of surprise at the beauty of the scene stretching out below them. Mrs. Harkins, an avid gardener, displayed her handiwork, lit by more twinkling lights, and turned the desert landscape into a tropical oasis.

"Oh, Perry! It's gorgeous," Della breathed.

He smiled as he watched her. "Not as gorgeous as you."

She laughed somewhat self-consciously. "Thanks, but I hardly think I compare with the beauty of nature."

He smiled and shook his head. They stood side by side in silence, Della reveling in the beauty of the garden at night. Finally, Perry spoke. "You really don't have any idea, do you?"

"About what?" she asked, turning towards him.

"About how beautiful you truly are." She started to protest, but he pulled her into him, cutting her off with a kiss. When the need for air finally drove them apart, Perry refused to let her go. Instead he held her waist tightly with one arm and caressed the side of her face with his hand. 'This is it - the perfect moment,' he thought.

"Marry me, Della."

Surprise flickered across her expression then softened into something else. She reached up and circled his neck with her arms and leaned her head on his shoulder. He could feel her body shaking. She didn't say a word.

"Della?"

She pulled back then and he could see the merriment glittering in her eyes. He realized her trembling had nothing to do with tears, she was shaking with laughter. "I'm sorry, Perry," she said, trying, unsuccessfully, to suppress a smile. "I didn't mean to laugh - really. It's just..." His eyebrows raised and he looked at her questioningly. She gave him that cocky grin he'd come to both love and dread.

"I never knew you were such an incurable romantic!" she said. Mason, now thoroughly confused, tried to step away from her, but she held him tightly. Sensing his confusion, she said, "I can't marry you, Perry Mason."

He felt like he'd been kicked in the gut. "I see. I..." He pulled away from her and turned to survey the scene in the garden below. He needed a moment to think, to collect himself. How could he have been so stupid? He'd been so sure that she loved him, too.

Della's hand grasped his shoulder, pulling him around to face her. "No, you don't see," she said, taking his face in her hands. Before he could reply, she pulled his head down to her, capturing his lips in a heated kiss. Her lips parted beneath his, inviting a deeper exploration. As he took possession of her mouth, she pressed her body fully into him. His desire for her was quickly becoming evident, even as she communicated her own needs to him. She kissed him with a wanton extravagance; her hands traveled the planes of his chest, his back, then moved up his neck and once again to the sides of his face. When she pulled away from him, he almost groaned at the loss of contact. He reached for her instinctively, but she gracefully eluded him and turned away. "You don't see at all," she said laughingly over her shoulder as she left him alone on the terrace.

He couldn't remember a time when he'd experienced such despair and elation within mere moments of each other. Her laughter could only mean he had completely misread her feelings. But that kiss...

The smiled that broke over his features at the memory of the kiss was almost goofy. He was still reminiscing about it when his car pulled to a stop in front of Della's building. There was a decided spring in his step as he crossed the sidewalk and followed one of the tenants inside. He didn't bother to buzz her apartment - it would be more fun to surprise her.