It was just about two hours later that Perry came back to the apartment, took off his suit jacket, and draped it over the back of the couch.

"Della! I'm home!" Perry Mason's fingers began to work the knot in his tie, loosening it just a bit. He would have just enough time to change clothes before they left.

"Shh!" came the reply, as Della Street emerged from the spare bedroom, shutting the door quietly behind her. "Perry, I just got the baby to sleep, and she won't stay asleep if you continue to bellow like an animal." He eyed her carefully. Why was she wearing her robe?

"I thought that her mother was picking her up? I told you that we didn't need the baby for that long. We were supposed to go out for the evening, if you remember."

"And if you remember, I told you that I promised her mother that she could pick her up tomorrow. You told me that was fine."

"I guess I wasn't really listening," he grudgingly admitted. "I don't suppose we could call Hannah back and tell her you've suddenly recovered from your headache? I gave her enough money so she shouldn't complain too much."

"No, we can't. We can have a quiet evening in," she soothed. "You put on some nice, soft music, and I'll get us a couple glasses of wine, and we can cuddle on the couch. Oh, and Perry? Why don't you slip into something more comfortable, first," Della added with a wink, before disappearing into the kitchen. "I'm already a step ahead of you on that score."

"You always are." It wasn't an evening out as he had expected, but as Perry took off his tie, and began to unbutton his shirt, he knew it would be something even better.

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The scream came tearing through the room, loud enough to wake Perry almost completely, as he sat bolt upright in the bed.

"Darling, what's wrong? Are you hurt? What do you need? I'll call the doctor, and if I have to, I'll get Paul out of bed, and he can watch the baby." He was at his most commanding now. Della needed him, and come hell or high water, he would make certain she was taken care of. "Tell me what you need, and it's yours."

"What I need is for the baby to sleep through the night; either that, or to cry more quietly." As Perry looked over at her, he noticed not a Della in distress, but a Della with a forearm over her eyes, and an exasperated tone of voice. "That one is going to be singing opera onstage one day, if her current vocal prowess is any indicator."

Perry chuckled, as he settled himself back on the bed. "You might be right, Darling. You get her settled, and then when you come back, I'll do something nice for you, to get you settled."

"Oh no you won't, Perry."

"Of course I will!"

"No, you won't, because I'm not going in that room again."

"Why on earth not?"

"Because I have rocked, held, fed, and sung to that baby at least 7 times in the past 3 hours. This is your turn now. You'll find a bottle in the refrigerator, along with heating instructions I took great care in writing out for you the last time I got up." Della pulled the covers back over her, and turned on her side. "Just ignore the comments I wrote at the bottom of the sheet. I don't really think you're an ass. Most of the time."

"You can't be serious. What do I know about babies?"

"You had better learn fast, Counsellor. Consider yourself very fortunate that all I did was write out bottle instructions. You'd be appalled if you knew what my second option for you was. How you could sleep through all of that noise is beyond me. Oh, and Perry….check the baby's diaper, while you're at it. You're a very clever attorney; I'm sure you can figure out how to fold it back up, and maneuver the safety pins."

Perry heaved himself from the bed, sighing loudly, in case Della wasn't aware that he was being put out, and wandered into the spare room. He was greeted by the sight of a red faced baby, tears rolling down her chubby cheeks, as she awkwardly held on to the rail of the playpen.

"Come here, sweetheart." As Perry lifted the child into his arms, he made sure to hold her tightly against him. Della would never forgive him if he dropped her. "Tell Uncle Perry what's bothering you." It was silly - the baby couldn't really speak yet - but he didn't know what else to do. He was not checking the diaper unless he absolutely had to, and even with Della's sure to be excellent instructions, he wasn't too keen on being responsible for making a bottle the correct temperature. Instead, he bounced her gently up and down in his arms, as he walked her around the room, explaining the complexities of various legal cases they had worked on over the years. Amazingly after a while, the child seemed to calm a bit, seemingly secure in Perry's presence.

"Darling? Darling look!"

Della moaned a bit as she opened her eyes, and sat up in bed.

"How did you get her to sleep?"

"As you said earlier, it's just my fatal charm. I have a way with women," he smirked.

"Yes, you do. Now while I appreciate your bringing her in here to show me your prowess, put her back in the playpen, and let's get to bed. We are still working on a case, you know, and even a legal powerhouse like Perry Mason needs his sleep."

"I won't be a minute." Perry turned toward the door, but before he could even take two steps, the baby began to cry again.

"Perry Mason, tell the truth, did you do any of the things for her that I told you to?"

"I didn't need to! I simply told her all about our cases, and she drifted off in my arms."

"Now I know how you got her to sleep - you bored her to sleep!"

Della got up to take the baby from Perry. "Come on, let me show you how an expert does it."

"Some expert you are. You had to put her to sleep 7 times in 3 hours," he retorted, "and it still took me to finish up for you."

"If I weren't holding this child, Perry Mason, you would be on the receiving end of one well aimed pillow." Nodding her head, she indicated that he follow her into the next room. "Let's do this together, and perhaps we'll get it right."

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"Now we know what the trick is," Della whispered, 45 minutes later. "We have to continue to hold her, and can't move, speak, or set her down. Darling, could you perhaps move the pillow against the arm of the sofa, so I have something to lean against?"

Perry adjusted the pillow, and assisted Della in positioning herself and the baby comfortably. "How's that?"

"Absolutely perfect. Now if you'd like, you can go back in the bedroom and get some sleep. I'll be doing my napping out here."

"How about if I join you instead?"

"If you want to put your head on my lap, Counsellor, I think there's enough room for all three of us." He smiled, then did as she suggested, "You're quite right, plenty of room if you're comfortable."

"I am, thank you."

A few minutes passed before Perry spoke again. "Della? This is nice."

"What is?"

"You, me….taking care of the baby."

"You think all that screaming and crying was nice? You have an odd sense of humor, Perry."

"It is," he insisted. "Darling….what do you think about us perhaps….having a baby of our own? A little girl, with your hazel eyes, and your curls-"

"Or perhaps a little boy with your dimples, and your ability to browbeat people into submission?"

"I prefer to think of it as having a take charge attitude."

"Either way," she conceded, "you're more than enough for me to handle right now."

"I suppose you're correct." Perry sounded a bit downhearted, and it tugged at Della's heart. "I said right now, Darling, I didn't say never."

"Thank you," he whispered, and she could almost hear the smile in his voice.

"Now young man, get some sleep. We have a big day tomorrow."

"Della? I love you."

"I love you too, Chief."

Perry was drifting off to sleep, and Della couldn't resist adding in a quiet, "Take charge attitude, my foot."

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Paul stood in the hallway outside of Perry's door, shifting the golf bag from one shoulder to the other. Perry hadn't answered any of his phone calls, and Paul was eager to take a few hours away from detecting, hoping that he could convince his friend to play a quick round.

"Perry?" He knocked on the door several times, but got no answer. It was not like his friend to ignore his phone or someone at his door. He checked his watch for the time. 7:00AM. Perry wasn't at the office, and he apparently wasn't at home, either. Where on earth could he be?

More from habit than anything else, he turned the door handle, not really expecting the door to open. Paul began to get a bad feeling in his stomach, when the door swung open. Men like Perry weren't the type to leave their doors unlocked. In the absence of his gun, he put the golf bag down, and drew out the 5 iron. It would have to do as a weapon, should he need one. He pushed the door open further, casting his eyes this way and that, looking for any signs of foul play.

What he found, instead, was something he considered even more of a shock.

Sleeping on the couch, legs tucked under her, and holding a baby of all things, was Della Street. Even more surprisingly, Perry Mason was asleep on her lap, his head turned towards her.

"What in the hell is going on here?!"

Della opened one eye, and gave Paul an exasperated look. "Keep your voice down, Paul! You don't want to wake the baby!"

"Beautiful! Is that….is that yours? I always thought I was a pretty good detective, but if I didn't even notice that you were….you know…."

"What, pregnant?"

"Paul," Perry's voice came quietly. "You're a fantastic detective, but I have to admit, sometimes very obvious things escape your notice. Even when they're right under your nose."

"When….how…." Paul could hardly formulate a coherent thought, let alone a sentence.

"How what? How did Perry and I wind up with a baby? All those women you've dated, and none of them ever filled you in on the facts of life? I'm almost ashamed to know you," Della teased.

"Perry," Paul decided to address his best friend, instead of having this embarrassing conversation with Della. "When did you two get together? Hell, more importantly, when did you become parents?"

"About 2 years ago, and yesterday."

"I am completely and utterly confused." Paul sank down in a nearby chair, allowing the golf club to slip from his hand.

"Perry, make us some coffee, and then perhaps we can give Paul all the details."

As Perry got up, Paul shook his head. "I think I need something stronger than coffee."

"Darling, I think that we have some Amaretto that you can add in for Paul."

"Coming right up!" Perry paused beside Paul's chair, suppressing a laugh. "Don't you worry, Paul. I'll make certain that Della doesn't tell you more than you can handle."

No one spoke until Perry came back into the room, handing the coffee first to Paul, then to Della. He then sat next to her, draping one arm across her back, pulling her to lean against him. "Perhaps I should begin this," he offered.

"Be my guest."

"Paul, when a man and a woman love each other, they-"

"That's it. I'm out." Paul jumped out of the chair, fighting the urge to put his fingers in his ears and hum in order to block out Perry's apparent explanation of his and Della's sex life. "I'll see you in the office on Monday….or maybe I won't because I don't know that I can look the two of you in the eye after this." Before either Della or Perry could say anything more, Paul was out the door and on his way home.

Perry caught Della's eye, and they both began to laugh hysterically.

"Now we know how to get him out of the office when we want to be alone," Perry grinned.

"Do you think we should call him in a bit….just to let him know he left his golf club here, of course." Della attempted to keep a straight face, but it was a futile attempt, and before she knew it, she and Perry were back in hysterics again.

The baby, who had been happily asleep all this time, woke up with the noise, and began to cry.

The laughter subsided, and both adults spoke at the same time.

"It's your turn."

They looked at each other for another moment, and then Della spoke. "Why don't we do this together?"