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31_days2012-05-31 11:32 am
insaneladybug.livejournal.com) wrote in 31_days2012-05-31 11:32 am
[Amnesty Day] [Perry Mason] Themes 1, 2, 3, 4, and 31!
Yes, I managed to make up for the lost days! I'm in love with June's themes and I'm hoping to do another series for that month, but we'll see how well that works out. I have one for tomorrow, at least.
All themes here are part of the "Missing Scenes from The Broken Ties" series.
Title: Deep Regrets
Day/Theme: May 1st - This was once a love poem
Series: Perry Mason
Character/Pairing: Lieutenant Tragg/his wife
Rating: K+/PG
Takes place either before or after the epilogue.
By Lucky_Ladybug
Lieutenant Arthur Tragg stood in the cemetery, forlornly gazing at the granite monument on the ground in front of him. This was where he had laid Maureen to rest so many years ago, where her mortal remains had been ever since. She had not been with him at the house. That Maureen was nothing more than a cruel and heartless impostor. He knew that now that he remembered.
But maybe he had really known all along. Somewhere deep down in his heart, it had not felt right. Maureen had not seemed real. He had pushed those warnings aside time and again, longing so desperately to believe that Maureen had never died, that she was still right with him.
And all that he had received for his love was an attempt on his life and a loss of mental control that had resulted in his having a hand in nearly killing two people. Vivalene had dragged him so far into her mind-control that he had decided to sacrifice himself to go to Maureen. If he had gone through with that, her spell over everyone would not have ever broken.
"How could I have been so blind?" he whispered to the night air. "Maureen, after what I've done, how can you ever forgive me?"
There was no audible answer, of course. And yet, as the gentle December breeze wafted through the cemetery, it felt as though a gossamer hand was touching his in the only way it now could. He shut his eyes, allowing himself to grasp that thought. Maybe it was another fantasy, but surely this one could not hurt him or anyone else.
And he liked to believe that in spite of it all, Maureen would understand, that she would indeed forgive him. It had all been for love of and loneliness for her. And what he had done while under Vivalene's brain-warping control was what he would never do of his own volition, no matter how deeply he wanted to be with Maureen again. Maureen would understand that too, wouldn't she?
Everyone seemed to understand. Mr. Burger and Lieutenant Drumm were not angry with him for what he had almost caused to happen to them. They realized that he had not been under his own power. Oh, perhaps they could not actually conceive of mind-control, but they knew something had not been right. They knew Tragg had not been himself.
But Tragg himself was deeply troubled. Vivalene had twisted his thoughts so much that the commands she had whispered had made sense. He had not been able to hear anything other than what she was telling him, not been able to comprehend doing anything other than following her orders. Naturally he had not been in his right mind, but how could he absolve himself of responsibility for what had happened?
He had almost killed Lieutenant Drumm in a car crash he had deliberately caused. He had distracted Mr. Burger, pushing him to the floor and enabling Vivalene to get the drop on him and nearly kill him. He would never forget the indescribable look of shocked disbelief on Mr. Burger's face when he realized he was going to die.
Perhaps the real issue, Tragg determined, was if he could ever understand. If he could ever forgive himself.
"Oh, Arthur," the wind seemed to whisper in response. "If only you could."
And Tragg sighed quietly, sadly, before laying the pot of forget-me-nots beside the headstone.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Title: Only a Fool's Hope
Day/Theme: May 2nd - Wringing stars out of zero
Series: Perry Mason
Character/Pairing: Perry Mason, Paul Drake, Hamilton Burger (well, kind of)
Rating: T/PG-13
Takes place during chapter 15.
By Lucky_Ladybug
Perry froze in stunned shock and horror after the booming, shattering sound. His true memories were restored to him in that instant. And from the sound of it, everyone else's as well. They exclaimed with one voice, shaken and perplexed as to how they had ever believed Vivalene's carefully crafted and implanted false memories over the realities they had experienced throughout their entire lives. Mignon could not refrain from a rare wail of utter anguish.
Perry was certainly no less guilty of the misplaced but understandable belief. Instantly he was gripped by a sinking, sickening feeling. "Hamilton," he whispered.
His gaze drifted to the lifeless body in their midst. Now they all knew that what Hamilton—and Paul—had been so desperately saying was true. They also knew how terrible they had been treating Hamilton while under the spell. And now they could not even begin to apologize. Perry was swiftly growing devastated.
Hamilton . . . how could I have ever forgot? he said in saddened silence. How could so many years, so many times we enjoyed each other's company, have been locked away in the recesses of my mind as though they never happened at all? How could I have thought we were enemies?
How could I have treated you like one?
Words came to him then, unbidden. "There never was much hope," he quoted aloud. "Only a fool's hope."
Paul looked over, blinking. "Huh? What are you talking about?" The grief was still flickering in his eyes. He had never forgot, but he was no less wracked with sorrow over how all of this had culminated.
"This whole situation," Perry said. "You and Hamilton, Paul. Vivalene had stranded you both in the middle of this impossible mess. No one remembered the truth but you. Everyone was hostile, especially to Hamilton. By all accounts, it looked entirely hopeless.
"And yet neither of you ever gave up. Vivalene and her co-conspirators had taken everything away from all of us. But you and Hamilton wrenched back our memories, our very existence, out of her hands."
Paul looked down. "We couldn't give up," he said. "You said why yourself. Everything was at stake—everyone's real lives as well as ours." He clenched a fist. "And now he isn't even still here to see we finally made it back."
Perry rested his hand on Hamilton's shoulder. "I have to believe he knows," he said. "And that he also knows how deeply sorry I am."
Paul's voice cracked as he answered. "I'm sure he does."
Paul did not say it, but he wanted to believe that Hamilton also knew how sorry he was. He had never apologized for their fight where Hamilton could hear him. The guilt was piercing him now. He should have done it. Oh, why hadn't he done it when Hamilton had apologized to him right before they entered this creepy place? Why had he waited until it was too late?
Perry reached over, gripping Paul's shoulder. He did not know about the argument, but the regrets were clear in Paul's eyes and all over his face. They had both lost someone dear to them.
". . . You know," Paul said at last, "we couldn't have ‘wrenched' anything out of Vivalene's hands if you and everyone else hadn't helped it along."
"We came to believe, or at least want to believe, because of what you and Hamilton did," Perry said. "As far as I'm concerned, the true victory belongs to both of you."
He looked to each shaken and horrified person gathered in mourning. ". . . While the guilt and the grief belong to us all."
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Title: She's Got It
Day/Theme: May 3rd - Ankles, Elbows, Eyes, and Thighs
Series: Perry Mason
Character/Pairing: Perry Mason, Della Street, Vivalene (OC)
Rating: K+/PG
Takes place during the break between chapters 7 and 8.
By Lucky_Ladybug
Vivalene was a physically attractive woman; there was no doubt of that. She knew it and she flaunted it whenever possible. Both now and three years ago she had been seen on Los Angeles dance floors, with a different man each time, dancing up a storm. Her red hair flipped, her feet moved expertly, and her eyes batted and flashed.
To Della she had always been poison. At least, when Della remembered her. Now she did not. But as she sat at a table in the nightclub with Perry, observing Vivalene's provocative dance, she still felt her skin crawl.
". . . How long has she been your secretary, Mr. Mason?" she asked. She was trying to keep her voice polite, but the inflection in it was clear.
Perry did not mind; he was not terribly pleased at the display himself. "For years now," he said.
Vivalene threw her arm up, punching the air as the current piece concluded. Although she had claimed her presence was a coincidence, Perry had the distinct impression that she was there deliberately, wanting to show herself off in contrast with the quiet and demure Della Street. But for Perry there was no contest.
"She must be good at what she does," Della said slowly, hesitantly.
"She is," Perry said. "But so often she's restless. I've always had the feeling that being a secretary is not really what she wants."
The next piece started and Vivalene cast a sultry smile over her shoulder at Perry before slinking out to find her next victim. Della lightly tapped her fingers on the tablecloth.
"If you'll forgive me, Mr. Mason, I'm afraid it's quite clear what she really wants."
"Oh?" Perry glanced to her. "And what's that?"
"You."
Perry smiled, looking down at his glass. "Vivalene wants every man."
Della found herself perking up in spite of herself. Really, it was only their third evening out; she should not be so ridiculously hopeful. But considering what Mr. Burger and Mr. Drake continued to insist was the truth, she could not refrain from her ridiculous hopes. "And how do you feel about her, Mr. Mason?"
Perry leaned back. "She isn't my type. I don't agree with her on anything except for the fact that she seems unable to settle down. I can't see that of myself any time soon."
"I see." Della nodded. Somehow she wasn't surprised. A bit disappointed, perhaps. But then again, at least she seemed to have a clear field for the foreseeable future—if she wished to pursue it.
"I'm quite devoted to my work," Perry elaborated. "Of course, that doesn't mean I'll never want to settle down."
Della finally smiled. "I hope not."
She glanced back to Vivalene and her latest seductive dance. "But I assume that in any case, Vivalene isn't a consideration."
Perry smiled too. "Not in the least, Miss Street."
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Title: Love Grows
Day/Theme: May 4th - The return to love with perspective
Series: Perry Mason
Character/Pairing: Perry Mason, Della Street, Mignon Germaine, Hamilton Burger
Rating: T/PG-13
Takes place in a range between the chapter 7/8 break, chapter 15, and chapter 16.
By Lucky_Ladybug
Della stood on her porch, holding her books close to her as she gazed into the distance. She was just getting back from teaching her class and had paused for a moment to gather her thoughts.
Mr. Mason would be by again later. She was looking forward to it; she liked him a great deal. He was a perfectly charming gentleman, as Principal Anderson was. And he had a good sense of humor.
The more time she spent with him, the more she was certain that the bizarre stories Mr. Burger and Mr. Drake told were what was real, no matter how bewildering or impossible. How many times had she told her students that nothing was impossible? Of course, she had not been speaking of anything as shocking as this, but the principle still remained.
And the fact was that she felt there was a definite connection between herself and Mr. Mason. He had felt it too. Somehow, someway, it was all true. She knew it was true.
She smiled a bit. Some people might say she had to be deluding herself, that she was infatuated and allowing flighty notions to take hold. She had tried to tell herself that was all it was, at first. But she knew better.
She turned, heading slowly inside to get ready.
****
Mignon was also standing and gazing into the distance. Her thoughts, like Della's, were of the events of the past few days. But unlike Della, she was deeply troubled. She only grew more troubled as the days went on.
She was still keeping Hamilton at arm's length. Despite his pleading and his wounded eyes, she had not forgotten her own wounds, imagined though they might be. She was not ready to move on, to accept that it might not be real.
To let go of that part of herself.
Hamilton had cut her to the core in the past, in the supposed faux memories she had. He had not been the kind and good and respectful friend that he had been trying so desperately of late to insist that he was. Larry had not forgiven him. Mignon had thought that she had, that she just did not trust him anymore, but now she was so conflicted she did not know what she thought.
She still cared deeply about him. They had known each other for so long and had been such close friends. She carried those good memories in her heart, along with the hurtful ones. And the more she was with him, the more the good memories were fighting to come to the surface. She wanted to forgive him, if she hadn't. She wanted to trust him. She wanted to believe that he was telling the truth, that none of those horrible things had ever even happened. But there was one barrier more in the way than any other.
She was afraid.
****
To have her memories restored felt strange and surreal at first. But as Della looked around at everyone who was now a friend and not a stranger, she realized that it wasn't so surreal at that. Her acceptance of what she had been told had already made them all friends in her eyes. Now it was just as though she was receiving the confirmation of her belief.
She turned to look at Perry. How had she ever forgotten him? How could she have ever thought she was supposed to be a schoolteacher instead of his secretary? Oh, she had thoroughly enjoyed her time in the classroom, but until she had found that article about Perry and later met him, something had felt missing. Now she knew so fully what it was.
She searched his eyes. He was feeling the same odd, bewildered emotions. Of course now they knew why everything had felt so right, in spite of the seeming impossibility of it. It was right, thoroughly and completely. And their deep bond with each other had, slowly but surely, helped to steadily weaken the spell over all of them. Vivalene and her cronies had known what they were doing by trying to keep them apart. Even they had recognized that it would start to crumble if Perry and Della re-met.
And it never would have been possible if it had not been for Paul . . . and the man lying dead in front of them.
The same horrible thought struck them both at the same time. They exchanged a sickened look before gazing at Hamilton's lifeless body. They knew him now. And they knew exactly why he had been so pained, so sad.
Mignon knew, too. A rare, grief-stricken wail escaped her lips.
****
The flood of memories was not peaceful or happy or even bittersweet for Mignon. Instead it brought the deepest anguish she had ever felt.
Even though she had finally faced her fears and determined that she was ready to accept everything Hamilton had said, she had not found the chance to tell him. And now her past was rushing back and she knew he had been telling the truth all along.
She should have told him. She would have, if she had only recognized the urgency of it, that she would never get to say it if she waited for them to have a moment alone.
She had crushed him so deeply. And now it was too late. She would never be able to tell him. She could only pray that now he knew.
Oh Hamilton . . . Hamilton, if I could only take it all back. If only I had believed you instead of clinging to what I still so foolishly thought I remembered! If only . . . if only . . .
That was all she was left with now—a handful of "If onlys" and her dear friend's lifeless body.
****
There was so much new and different and the same all at once. Della would not be going back to the house she had lived in for the past few days. Instead she was going back to her apartment, where she had lived for years. It was home to her, but now the other residence was home too. She did not want to live all the way out in the Valley, yet she was curious to see what the place was like now that the spell was gone. Did anyone live there? Was it vacant?
She came back to the present as she walked with Perry to his apartment. With his injured arm, she had driven him here and, at his insistence, would be taking his car back with her tonight. She would come to pick him up in the morning—a morning which would be upon them all too soon.
It was uncanny, how everything came full circle. The night before the spell had been enacted, Perry had driven her home. Life had seemed so normal then. Now the spell was broken and things appeared to be going back to normal, but they never really would be again.
They had come through and learned and experienced so much. Their bonds had been tested and stretched to the nth degree. But after everything, their friendships were still holding strong—even if some would need a bit of mending.
"Well," Perry said as they reached his door, "I'm afraid I don't really know what to say, after all this." He gave her a somewhat awkward smile.
Della smiled back. "There's nothing that needs to be said. I'm not sure it even could be put into words."
"Then we're on the same page. Goodnight, Miss Street." It was an affectionate term now, rather than one borne of a need to be formal.
Della continued to smile. "Goodnight, Mr. Mason."
She turned, walking back up the corridor.
****
Words were not needed. Hamilton could tell everything he needed to know from Mignon's trembling embrace and the desperate repeats of his name. Her sorrow, her grief, her regrets, her joy, her longing for forgiveness and her self-imagined unworthiness to receive it . . . it was all there.
He held her close, sorrowed and regretful and joyous all at once himself. He had his friends back at long last. But he had never wanted them to feel such agony, such torment, over how they had behaved while under the spell. Yet he knew he would certainly feel the same if their positions had been reversed.
"Mignon . . . it's alright," he said finally, his voice gentle and quiet. "I'm alive. And you don't have to beat yourself up over this. It wasn't your fault. There's nothing to forgive."
She shuddered and looked up at him in amazed and awed disbelief. "Hamilton, how can you say it wasn't my fault?" she whispered. "Yes, I was under Vivalene's spell, but it isn't an excuse. Miss Street didn't let that stop her from fully believing."
"I told you, Della didn't have a reason to be upset with me," Hamilton said. "If she had, I'm sure she wouldn't have been so accepting, either. You played into Vivalene's hands, but only because you were so deeply hurt."
Mignon knew that was true. It did not do much to ease the agony she felt over having rejected Hamilton time and again, but it meant an indescribable amount that Hamilton was so understanding, so willing to move ahead and try to pick up the pieces of their friendship.
"I was made to remember you as being so terrible," she said at last. "But in reality I don't deserve you as my friend."
"Mignon, who's to say how I would have acted in your place?" Hamilton returned. "That spell did things to all of us, even to Paul and to me. It made us act out in ways we never would have believed or thought possible. I can't hold that against you."
Mignon closed her eyes, allowing herself to become lost in his embrace. "Thank you, Hamilton," she said softly.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Title: To Friendship
Day/Theme: May 31st - This fishing in the air
Series: Perry Mason
Character/Pairing: Perry Mason, main cast ensemble
Rating: K/G
Takes place at the end of The Spectral Stalker, the next mystery in the series, which tried to tie up some leftover loose ends from The Broken Ties as a sub-plot.
By Lucky_Ladybug
They had all gathered at Clay's to celebrate the solving of the Dr. Portman case. In a way, it felt like another chapter had been closed on the Vivalene case as well. Tragg, who had been struck with the deepest horror and guilt over what he had done while under Vivalene's control, was at last on the mend. And for all of them, that was a great triumph and victory. They had all worried over how Tragg would get over what he had done.
It had taken a formerly dead man to bring him around. That man was here tonight also, along with the man who had started their involvement in this twisted mystery.
Clay brought them all their food and visited with them, as usual. He, like the others who had been affected by Vivalene's spell, was both deeply horrified and bewildered over what had happened. And he felt extremely guilty over how he had treated Hamilton. He had tried to make it up to him every time since.
The friends were happy and peaceful as they ate and talked. The last weeks had been filled with all manner of things they had never dreamed possible. But in the end, good had still triumphed over all that was strange and wrong. Even if their perception of the world was changing, that fact was the same.
And none of it would have been possible had it not been that Hamilton and Paul had remembered the truth when everyone else had forgot. No one knew the reason why that had been the case, and most likely they never would, but they were endlessly grateful. Hamilton and Paul had never given up, no matter how many had been against them or refused to believe. They had continued to cast their fishing lines in the air, desperate to snag someone who would listen. And slowly but surely they had begun to have success.
"I would like to propose a toast," Perry said, smiling as he looked at this group that had been together through so much. He raised his glass. "To friendship."
Everyone was agreeable to that. "To friendship!" they chorused.
Friendship had carried them through these trials. And whatever else came along in the future, their friendships would continue to be their saving grace.
All themes here are part of the "Missing Scenes from The Broken Ties" series.
Title: Deep Regrets
Day/Theme: May 1st - This was once a love poem
Series: Perry Mason
Character/Pairing: Lieutenant Tragg/his wife
Rating: K+/PG
Takes place either before or after the epilogue.
Lieutenant Arthur Tragg stood in the cemetery, forlornly gazing at the granite monument on the ground in front of him. This was where he had laid Maureen to rest so many years ago, where her mortal remains had been ever since. She had not been with him at the house. That Maureen was nothing more than a cruel and heartless impostor. He knew that now that he remembered.
But maybe he had really known all along. Somewhere deep down in his heart, it had not felt right. Maureen had not seemed real. He had pushed those warnings aside time and again, longing so desperately to believe that Maureen had never died, that she was still right with him.
And all that he had received for his love was an attempt on his life and a loss of mental control that had resulted in his having a hand in nearly killing two people. Vivalene had dragged him so far into her mind-control that he had decided to sacrifice himself to go to Maureen. If he had gone through with that, her spell over everyone would not have ever broken.
"How could I have been so blind?" he whispered to the night air. "Maureen, after what I've done, how can you ever forgive me?"
There was no audible answer, of course. And yet, as the gentle December breeze wafted through the cemetery, it felt as though a gossamer hand was touching his in the only way it now could. He shut his eyes, allowing himself to grasp that thought. Maybe it was another fantasy, but surely this one could not hurt him or anyone else.
And he liked to believe that in spite of it all, Maureen would understand, that she would indeed forgive him. It had all been for love of and loneliness for her. And what he had done while under Vivalene's brain-warping control was what he would never do of his own volition, no matter how deeply he wanted to be with Maureen again. Maureen would understand that too, wouldn't she?
Everyone seemed to understand. Mr. Burger and Lieutenant Drumm were not angry with him for what he had almost caused to happen to them. They realized that he had not been under his own power. Oh, perhaps they could not actually conceive of mind-control, but they knew something had not been right. They knew Tragg had not been himself.
But Tragg himself was deeply troubled. Vivalene had twisted his thoughts so much that the commands she had whispered had made sense. He had not been able to hear anything other than what she was telling him, not been able to comprehend doing anything other than following her orders. Naturally he had not been in his right mind, but how could he absolve himself of responsibility for what had happened?
He had almost killed Lieutenant Drumm in a car crash he had deliberately caused. He had distracted Mr. Burger, pushing him to the floor and enabling Vivalene to get the drop on him and nearly kill him. He would never forget the indescribable look of shocked disbelief on Mr. Burger's face when he realized he was going to die.
Perhaps the real issue, Tragg determined, was if he could ever understand. If he could ever forgive himself.
"Oh, Arthur," the wind seemed to whisper in response. "If only you could."
And Tragg sighed quietly, sadly, before laying the pot of forget-me-nots beside the headstone.
Title: Only a Fool's Hope
Day/Theme: May 2nd - Wringing stars out of zero
Series: Perry Mason
Character/Pairing: Perry Mason, Paul Drake, Hamilton Burger (well, kind of)
Rating: T/PG-13
Takes place during chapter 15.
Perry froze in stunned shock and horror after the booming, shattering sound. His true memories were restored to him in that instant. And from the sound of it, everyone else's as well. They exclaimed with one voice, shaken and perplexed as to how they had ever believed Vivalene's carefully crafted and implanted false memories over the realities they had experienced throughout their entire lives. Mignon could not refrain from a rare wail of utter anguish.
Perry was certainly no less guilty of the misplaced but understandable belief. Instantly he was gripped by a sinking, sickening feeling. "Hamilton," he whispered.
His gaze drifted to the lifeless body in their midst. Now they all knew that what Hamilton—and Paul—had been so desperately saying was true. They also knew how terrible they had been treating Hamilton while under the spell. And now they could not even begin to apologize. Perry was swiftly growing devastated.
Hamilton . . . how could I have ever forgot? he said in saddened silence. How could so many years, so many times we enjoyed each other's company, have been locked away in the recesses of my mind as though they never happened at all? How could I have thought we were enemies?
How could I have treated you like one?
Words came to him then, unbidden. "There never was much hope," he quoted aloud. "Only a fool's hope."
Paul looked over, blinking. "Huh? What are you talking about?" The grief was still flickering in his eyes. He had never forgot, but he was no less wracked with sorrow over how all of this had culminated.
"This whole situation," Perry said. "You and Hamilton, Paul. Vivalene had stranded you both in the middle of this impossible mess. No one remembered the truth but you. Everyone was hostile, especially to Hamilton. By all accounts, it looked entirely hopeless.
"And yet neither of you ever gave up. Vivalene and her co-conspirators had taken everything away from all of us. But you and Hamilton wrenched back our memories, our very existence, out of her hands."
Paul looked down. "We couldn't give up," he said. "You said why yourself. Everything was at stake—everyone's real lives as well as ours." He clenched a fist. "And now he isn't even still here to see we finally made it back."
Perry rested his hand on Hamilton's shoulder. "I have to believe he knows," he said. "And that he also knows how deeply sorry I am."
Paul's voice cracked as he answered. "I'm sure he does."
Paul did not say it, but he wanted to believe that Hamilton also knew how sorry he was. He had never apologized for their fight where Hamilton could hear him. The guilt was piercing him now. He should have done it. Oh, why hadn't he done it when Hamilton had apologized to him right before they entered this creepy place? Why had he waited until it was too late?
Perry reached over, gripping Paul's shoulder. He did not know about the argument, but the regrets were clear in Paul's eyes and all over his face. They had both lost someone dear to them.
". . . You know," Paul said at last, "we couldn't have ‘wrenched' anything out of Vivalene's hands if you and everyone else hadn't helped it along."
"We came to believe, or at least want to believe, because of what you and Hamilton did," Perry said. "As far as I'm concerned, the true victory belongs to both of you."
He looked to each shaken and horrified person gathered in mourning. ". . . While the guilt and the grief belong to us all."
Title: She's Got It
Day/Theme: May 3rd - Ankles, Elbows, Eyes, and Thighs
Series: Perry Mason
Character/Pairing: Perry Mason, Della Street, Vivalene (OC)
Rating: K+/PG
Takes place during the break between chapters 7 and 8.
Vivalene was a physically attractive woman; there was no doubt of that. She knew it and she flaunted it whenever possible. Both now and three years ago she had been seen on Los Angeles dance floors, with a different man each time, dancing up a storm. Her red hair flipped, her feet moved expertly, and her eyes batted and flashed.
To Della she had always been poison. At least, when Della remembered her. Now she did not. But as she sat at a table in the nightclub with Perry, observing Vivalene's provocative dance, she still felt her skin crawl.
". . . How long has she been your secretary, Mr. Mason?" she asked. She was trying to keep her voice polite, but the inflection in it was clear.
Perry did not mind; he was not terribly pleased at the display himself. "For years now," he said.
Vivalene threw her arm up, punching the air as the current piece concluded. Although she had claimed her presence was a coincidence, Perry had the distinct impression that she was there deliberately, wanting to show herself off in contrast with the quiet and demure Della Street. But for Perry there was no contest.
"She must be good at what she does," Della said slowly, hesitantly.
"She is," Perry said. "But so often she's restless. I've always had the feeling that being a secretary is not really what she wants."
The next piece started and Vivalene cast a sultry smile over her shoulder at Perry before slinking out to find her next victim. Della lightly tapped her fingers on the tablecloth.
"If you'll forgive me, Mr. Mason, I'm afraid it's quite clear what she really wants."
"Oh?" Perry glanced to her. "And what's that?"
"You."
Perry smiled, looking down at his glass. "Vivalene wants every man."
Della found herself perking up in spite of herself. Really, it was only their third evening out; she should not be so ridiculously hopeful. But considering what Mr. Burger and Mr. Drake continued to insist was the truth, she could not refrain from her ridiculous hopes. "And how do you feel about her, Mr. Mason?"
Perry leaned back. "She isn't my type. I don't agree with her on anything except for the fact that she seems unable to settle down. I can't see that of myself any time soon."
"I see." Della nodded. Somehow she wasn't surprised. A bit disappointed, perhaps. But then again, at least she seemed to have a clear field for the foreseeable future—if she wished to pursue it.
"I'm quite devoted to my work," Perry elaborated. "Of course, that doesn't mean I'll never want to settle down."
Della finally smiled. "I hope not."
She glanced back to Vivalene and her latest seductive dance. "But I assume that in any case, Vivalene isn't a consideration."
Perry smiled too. "Not in the least, Miss Street."
Title: Love Grows
Day/Theme: May 4th - The return to love with perspective
Series: Perry Mason
Character/Pairing: Perry Mason, Della Street, Mignon Germaine, Hamilton Burger
Rating: T/PG-13
Takes place in a range between the chapter 7/8 break, chapter 15, and chapter 16.
Della stood on her porch, holding her books close to her as she gazed into the distance. She was just getting back from teaching her class and had paused for a moment to gather her thoughts.
Mr. Mason would be by again later. She was looking forward to it; she liked him a great deal. He was a perfectly charming gentleman, as Principal Anderson was. And he had a good sense of humor.
The more time she spent with him, the more she was certain that the bizarre stories Mr. Burger and Mr. Drake told were what was real, no matter how bewildering or impossible. How many times had she told her students that nothing was impossible? Of course, she had not been speaking of anything as shocking as this, but the principle still remained.
And the fact was that she felt there was a definite connection between herself and Mr. Mason. He had felt it too. Somehow, someway, it was all true. She knew it was true.
She smiled a bit. Some people might say she had to be deluding herself, that she was infatuated and allowing flighty notions to take hold. She had tried to tell herself that was all it was, at first. But she knew better.
She turned, heading slowly inside to get ready.
Mignon was also standing and gazing into the distance. Her thoughts, like Della's, were of the events of the past few days. But unlike Della, she was deeply troubled. She only grew more troubled as the days went on.
She was still keeping Hamilton at arm's length. Despite his pleading and his wounded eyes, she had not forgotten her own wounds, imagined though they might be. She was not ready to move on, to accept that it might not be real.
To let go of that part of herself.
Hamilton had cut her to the core in the past, in the supposed faux memories she had. He had not been the kind and good and respectful friend that he had been trying so desperately of late to insist that he was. Larry had not forgiven him. Mignon had thought that she had, that she just did not trust him anymore, but now she was so conflicted she did not know what she thought.
She still cared deeply about him. They had known each other for so long and had been such close friends. She carried those good memories in her heart, along with the hurtful ones. And the more she was with him, the more the good memories were fighting to come to the surface. She wanted to forgive him, if she hadn't. She wanted to trust him. She wanted to believe that he was telling the truth, that none of those horrible things had ever even happened. But there was one barrier more in the way than any other.
She was afraid.
To have her memories restored felt strange and surreal at first. But as Della looked around at everyone who was now a friend and not a stranger, she realized that it wasn't so surreal at that. Her acceptance of what she had been told had already made them all friends in her eyes. Now it was just as though she was receiving the confirmation of her belief.
She turned to look at Perry. How had she ever forgotten him? How could she have ever thought she was supposed to be a schoolteacher instead of his secretary? Oh, she had thoroughly enjoyed her time in the classroom, but until she had found that article about Perry and later met him, something had felt missing. Now she knew so fully what it was.
She searched his eyes. He was feeling the same odd, bewildered emotions. Of course now they knew why everything had felt so right, in spite of the seeming impossibility of it. It was right, thoroughly and completely. And their deep bond with each other had, slowly but surely, helped to steadily weaken the spell over all of them. Vivalene and her cronies had known what they were doing by trying to keep them apart. Even they had recognized that it would start to crumble if Perry and Della re-met.
And it never would have been possible if it had not been for Paul . . . and the man lying dead in front of them.
The same horrible thought struck them both at the same time. They exchanged a sickened look before gazing at Hamilton's lifeless body. They knew him now. And they knew exactly why he had been so pained, so sad.
Mignon knew, too. A rare, grief-stricken wail escaped her lips.
The flood of memories was not peaceful or happy or even bittersweet for Mignon. Instead it brought the deepest anguish she had ever felt.
Even though she had finally faced her fears and determined that she was ready to accept everything Hamilton had said, she had not found the chance to tell him. And now her past was rushing back and she knew he had been telling the truth all along.
She should have told him. She would have, if she had only recognized the urgency of it, that she would never get to say it if she waited for them to have a moment alone.
She had crushed him so deeply. And now it was too late. She would never be able to tell him. She could only pray that now he knew.
Oh Hamilton . . . Hamilton, if I could only take it all back. If only I had believed you instead of clinging to what I still so foolishly thought I remembered! If only . . . if only . . .
That was all she was left with now—a handful of "If onlys" and her dear friend's lifeless body.
There was so much new and different and the same all at once. Della would not be going back to the house she had lived in for the past few days. Instead she was going back to her apartment, where she had lived for years. It was home to her, but now the other residence was home too. She did not want to live all the way out in the Valley, yet she was curious to see what the place was like now that the spell was gone. Did anyone live there? Was it vacant?
She came back to the present as she walked with Perry to his apartment. With his injured arm, she had driven him here and, at his insistence, would be taking his car back with her tonight. She would come to pick him up in the morning—a morning which would be upon them all too soon.
It was uncanny, how everything came full circle. The night before the spell had been enacted, Perry had driven her home. Life had seemed so normal then. Now the spell was broken and things appeared to be going back to normal, but they never really would be again.
They had come through and learned and experienced so much. Their bonds had been tested and stretched to the nth degree. But after everything, their friendships were still holding strong—even if some would need a bit of mending.
"Well," Perry said as they reached his door, "I'm afraid I don't really know what to say, after all this." He gave her a somewhat awkward smile.
Della smiled back. "There's nothing that needs to be said. I'm not sure it even could be put into words."
"Then we're on the same page. Goodnight, Miss Street." It was an affectionate term now, rather than one borne of a need to be formal.
Della continued to smile. "Goodnight, Mr. Mason."
She turned, walking back up the corridor.
Words were not needed. Hamilton could tell everything he needed to know from Mignon's trembling embrace and the desperate repeats of his name. Her sorrow, her grief, her regrets, her joy, her longing for forgiveness and her self-imagined unworthiness to receive it . . . it was all there.
He held her close, sorrowed and regretful and joyous all at once himself. He had his friends back at long last. But he had never wanted them to feel such agony, such torment, over how they had behaved while under the spell. Yet he knew he would certainly feel the same if their positions had been reversed.
"Mignon . . . it's alright," he said finally, his voice gentle and quiet. "I'm alive. And you don't have to beat yourself up over this. It wasn't your fault. There's nothing to forgive."
She shuddered and looked up at him in amazed and awed disbelief. "Hamilton, how can you say it wasn't my fault?" she whispered. "Yes, I was under Vivalene's spell, but it isn't an excuse. Miss Street didn't let that stop her from fully believing."
"I told you, Della didn't have a reason to be upset with me," Hamilton said. "If she had, I'm sure she wouldn't have been so accepting, either. You played into Vivalene's hands, but only because you were so deeply hurt."
Mignon knew that was true. It did not do much to ease the agony she felt over having rejected Hamilton time and again, but it meant an indescribable amount that Hamilton was so understanding, so willing to move ahead and try to pick up the pieces of their friendship.
"I was made to remember you as being so terrible," she said at last. "But in reality I don't deserve you as my friend."
"Mignon, who's to say how I would have acted in your place?" Hamilton returned. "That spell did things to all of us, even to Paul and to me. It made us act out in ways we never would have believed or thought possible. I can't hold that against you."
Mignon closed her eyes, allowing herself to become lost in his embrace. "Thank you, Hamilton," she said softly.
Title: To Friendship
Day/Theme: May 31st - This fishing in the air
Series: Perry Mason
Character/Pairing: Perry Mason, main cast ensemble
Rating: K/G
Takes place at the end of The Spectral Stalker, the next mystery in the series, which tried to tie up some leftover loose ends from The Broken Ties as a sub-plot.
They had all gathered at Clay's to celebrate the solving of the Dr. Portman case. In a way, it felt like another chapter had been closed on the Vivalene case as well. Tragg, who had been struck with the deepest horror and guilt over what he had done while under Vivalene's control, was at last on the mend. And for all of them, that was a great triumph and victory. They had all worried over how Tragg would get over what he had done.
It had taken a formerly dead man to bring him around. That man was here tonight also, along with the man who had started their involvement in this twisted mystery.
Clay brought them all their food and visited with them, as usual. He, like the others who had been affected by Vivalene's spell, was both deeply horrified and bewildered over what had happened. And he felt extremely guilty over how he had treated Hamilton. He had tried to make it up to him every time since.
The friends were happy and peaceful as they ate and talked. The last weeks had been filled with all manner of things they had never dreamed possible. But in the end, good had still triumphed over all that was strange and wrong. Even if their perception of the world was changing, that fact was the same.
And none of it would have been possible had it not been that Hamilton and Paul had remembered the truth when everyone else had forgot. No one knew the reason why that had been the case, and most likely they never would, but they were endlessly grateful. Hamilton and Paul had never given up, no matter how many had been against them or refused to believe. They had continued to cast their fishing lines in the air, desperate to snag someone who would listen. And slowly but surely they had begun to have success.
"I would like to propose a toast," Perry said, smiling as he looked at this group that had been together through so much. He raised his glass. "To friendship."
Everyone was agreeable to that. "To friendship!" they chorused.
Friendship had carried them through these trials. And whatever else came along in the future, their friendships would continue to be their saving grace.