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TCOT Rolling Bones, Perry and Della walk into court arm in arm. A photographer pops up to take their picture and they look at each other sort of surprised and flirty. Della quickly shoves her hand in her pocket. When she takes it out after the photographer walks away, she's got her black stone pinky ring on.
I'm not saying that's her wedding ring, BUT THAT'S HER WEDDING RING
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I will never get over the Perry Mason movies where Perry's office is all dark academia with deep colors and oversized leather chairs and dim reading lamps and velvet curtains and he is in dark suits and turtlenecks with his sea captain's beard...
and Della wears pastel blazers and flowered blouses and heels with bows and lives in a cute little cottage with a garden...
They shouldn't fit in each other's spaces so well. But. Della is this somehow-complimentary, bright, sunny spot in his life. A little softness to the harsh angles and textures. And he adds just a touch of structure to her life, like a trellis for her flowers to grow on. Something solid to anchor around.
Anyone else who comes into their spaces looks out of place, but they are two sides of the same coin.
I wrote 1900 words of Perry Mason fic over the past few days which is a 1900 word improvement over my recent writing activity of 0 words since January
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
I wrote a thing!
Count On Me: A Perry Mason Christmas fic
Ft Perry/Della and many mid-century television tropes.
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An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Lt. Tragg stops by the florist on the way home from work the evening before Valentine's day. He runs into a certain PI who is picking out orchids for delivery. The next day, those same orchids are on Della Street's desk.
Someone come talk PerryxDella with me I've got the itch to write
@frommybookbook requested π for PerryxDella!
This is untitled and barely extends beyond this snippet but is just some more hurt/comfort:
He came in quietly so as not to startle her, but came to the side of the bed, hands reaching for her in the dark. It was like he needed to be reminded of the gentleness that existed in the worldβthe soft touch and whispered entreaties of a lover instead of the harsh slaps and brutal threats of the outside world.
Della caught one of his fumbling hands in hers, stilling his nearly desperate search. She sat up and with her other hand, she reached for the switch on the lamp, bathing the room in a soft glow.
