Ficlet: Doubt (complete)
Title: Doubt
Fandom: Perry Mason (1957 TV series)
Pairing: Della/Perry/Paul threesome
Word count: About 800
Synopsis: A whole bucket of angst and a dreadful pun.
Notes: Have I mentioned before how I love Paul Drake? I also apologise for my horrible sense of humour. This is pure self-indulgence.
Doubt
When she woke, someone had drawn the covers over her to keep her warm, but there was no one else in the bed with her. She lay there for a moment processing that, wondering where Perry and Paul had got to and what they were doing without her.
"He's just gone to make coffee, Beautiful," Paul's voice came from somewhere behind her, and she rolled over to look at him. He sat in the chair by the window, smoking, dressed in one of Perry's robes, which was too short for him. His bare feet were up on the windowsill, and he was looking at her with an affectionate if slightly smug smile. Della settled her head more comfortably on the pillow and stared back at him, her naked shoulder sliding out from under the warmth of the blanket. The morning light was turning the window grey behind him.
"I can see that mind of yours working," he said.
She lifted her eyebrows. "Oh is that so?" she said, archly, "What is it that I'm thinking, then, Mr. Mind-Reader?"
"You're suddenly starting to worry about all of this, about him and me. Surely you don't think Perry would do that to you?"
She felt herself flushing slightly as his words hit nearer to the mark than she'd expected. He took a deep drag on his cigarette and lifted his chin to blow the smoke out towards the ceiling.
"No," she said, thoughtfully, "He wouldn’t." He was right, she realised. Perry would never let that happen. That almost made things worse. He wouldn't hurt her, she trusted in that, but didn’t that mean, if it came to it, Paul would be the one out in the cold? She rolled until she was lying on her back staring up at the ceiling. "So what about you?"
He quirked an eyebrow. "I don't do this sorta thing every day," he said, with the hint of a smile. "But I came into it with my eyes open." The acceptance in his voice almost broke her heart. “Everything I’ve ever said to you, I meant it. I’ll be here as long as you two let me stick around.”
“What makes you think Perry would do that to you?” she said, becoming more convinced of Perry’s devotion to the private investigator even as she spoke.
He shrugged. “You’ll always come first to him, and I’ll always just be taking what I can get. And if it turns out all I can get is friendship, well, then it won’t be any different from the last ten years.”
She looked at him for a long moment, waiting for him to continue, but he glanced off towards the bedroom door and the kitchen. She realised that his quick ears had picked up the sounds of Perry's returning footsteps. The door swung open and Perry entered carrying a tray laden with coffee things. He put the tray down on the bed and leaned over to kiss Della. He tasted of coffee and cigarettes, just like Paul. She slid herself upright against the headboard.
By the window, Paul leaned forward and stubbed out his cigarette in the ash tray. Then the bed dipped as he settled beside her, throwing an arm around her shoulders and pressing his nose against her temple. That turned into a smacking kiss, and he chuckled at her grimace of distaste and Perry's smirk.
“Morning, you two,” Perry said, the contentment in his face easy to read, all traces of his gruff courtroom persona absent. Paul was warm next to her, and she leaned into him while Perry poured the coffee, trying to reassure him without words that neither of them was going to get hurt. She trusted Perry enough for both of them.
“I hope there’s time for coffee in bed before we have to feed Paul,” Perry said, eyes crinkling as he took them in, comfortable in his bed. “But just in case, I got everything ready in the kitchen. Just say the word.” He met Paul’s eyes with a teasing smile. Then he held out the first cup of coffee to Della, and passed Paul’s over, letting their fingers brush.
“I guess I can wait for now,” Paul said magnanimously, taking the cup and bringing it to his mouth to blow across the hot liquid. “I’ll sing out if I start to feel faint with hunger.”
Perry sat down on the other side of Della, swinging his legs up onto the bed carpet slippers and all. The three of them sat in silence for a few minutes, enjoying the peace of the morning and the small oasis of them that had always pervaded, even before they had taken this new turn in their relationship.
“So Della,” Paul said, breaking the moment. “Doesn’t this make you a three-way Street?”
Fandom: Perry Mason (1957 TV series)
Pairing: Della/Perry/Paul threesome
Word count: About 800
Synopsis: A whole bucket of angst and a dreadful pun.
Notes: Have I mentioned before how I love Paul Drake? I also apologise for my horrible sense of humour. This is pure self-indulgence.
Doubt
When she woke, someone had drawn the covers over her to keep her warm, but there was no one else in the bed with her. She lay there for a moment processing that, wondering where Perry and Paul had got to and what they were doing without her.
"He's just gone to make coffee, Beautiful," Paul's voice came from somewhere behind her, and she rolled over to look at him. He sat in the chair by the window, smoking, dressed in one of Perry's robes, which was too short for him. His bare feet were up on the windowsill, and he was looking at her with an affectionate if slightly smug smile. Della settled her head more comfortably on the pillow and stared back at him, her naked shoulder sliding out from under the warmth of the blanket. The morning light was turning the window grey behind him.
"I can see that mind of yours working," he said.
She lifted her eyebrows. "Oh is that so?" she said, archly, "What is it that I'm thinking, then, Mr. Mind-Reader?"
"You're suddenly starting to worry about all of this, about him and me. Surely you don't think Perry would do that to you?"
She felt herself flushing slightly as his words hit nearer to the mark than she'd expected. He took a deep drag on his cigarette and lifted his chin to blow the smoke out towards the ceiling.
"No," she said, thoughtfully, "He wouldn’t." He was right, she realised. Perry would never let that happen. That almost made things worse. He wouldn't hurt her, she trusted in that, but didn’t that mean, if it came to it, Paul would be the one out in the cold? She rolled until she was lying on her back staring up at the ceiling. "So what about you?"
He quirked an eyebrow. "I don't do this sorta thing every day," he said, with the hint of a smile. "But I came into it with my eyes open." The acceptance in his voice almost broke her heart. “Everything I’ve ever said to you, I meant it. I’ll be here as long as you two let me stick around.”
“What makes you think Perry would do that to you?” she said, becoming more convinced of Perry’s devotion to the private investigator even as she spoke.
He shrugged. “You’ll always come first to him, and I’ll always just be taking what I can get. And if it turns out all I can get is friendship, well, then it won’t be any different from the last ten years.”
She looked at him for a long moment, waiting for him to continue, but he glanced off towards the bedroom door and the kitchen. She realised that his quick ears had picked up the sounds of Perry's returning footsteps. The door swung open and Perry entered carrying a tray laden with coffee things. He put the tray down on the bed and leaned over to kiss Della. He tasted of coffee and cigarettes, just like Paul. She slid herself upright against the headboard.
By the window, Paul leaned forward and stubbed out his cigarette in the ash tray. Then the bed dipped as he settled beside her, throwing an arm around her shoulders and pressing his nose against her temple. That turned into a smacking kiss, and he chuckled at her grimace of distaste and Perry's smirk.
“Morning, you two,” Perry said, the contentment in his face easy to read, all traces of his gruff courtroom persona absent. Paul was warm next to her, and she leaned into him while Perry poured the coffee, trying to reassure him without words that neither of them was going to get hurt. She trusted Perry enough for both of them.
“I hope there’s time for coffee in bed before we have to feed Paul,” Perry said, eyes crinkling as he took them in, comfortable in his bed. “But just in case, I got everything ready in the kitchen. Just say the word.” He met Paul’s eyes with a teasing smile. Then he held out the first cup of coffee to Della, and passed Paul’s over, letting their fingers brush.
“I guess I can wait for now,” Paul said magnanimously, taking the cup and bringing it to his mouth to blow across the hot liquid. “I’ll sing out if I start to feel faint with hunger.”
Perry sat down on the other side of Della, swinging his legs up onto the bed carpet slippers and all. The three of them sat in silence for a few minutes, enjoying the peace of the morning and the small oasis of them that had always pervaded, even before they had taken this new turn in their relationship.
“So Della,” Paul said, breaking the moment. “Doesn’t this make you a three-way Street?”