I wrote this in about twenty minutes. But I just thought Bert's first name is interesting. And quite appropriate. So I just wanted to write something about it.
As always, I own nothing.
Growing up, Herbert Alfred hated his name. Herbert was a lot to saddle a little boy with, it was stuffy and old sounding and he hated it. So within about ten minutes of being old enough to realize the name he was cursed with, he had chosen to go by Bert. And never once had he regretted it. Bert was a congenial name—easy-going and simple, the things he prided himself on being, especially as he grew older. It just simply fit. And so he became Bert to everyone except his mother or to everyone on Sundays. But that was it. And he was happy with that. It got to the point where people forgot his given name, and most people did. Everyone but her.
Mary Poppins. If a name ever suited anyone, he thought, hers was it. The name just simply rang of spoonfuls of sugar and outings in the park. And he loved it. He loved the way she treated every one of her charges, he loved the way she could silence a room with a glare, he loved the way she seemed both heavenly and earthly all at once. It took a special sort of person to do that. She was the only one he'd ever met who could.
Growing up, Herbert Alfred had hated his name. But it all changed when Mary Poppins came into his life. Everything had changed the moment Mary Poppins had come into his life. Where he refused to use anything but his nickname, she rarely went by anything but her full name. And he loved the way any form of his name fell from her lips. Even Herbert. Especially Herbert.
For the way Mary Poppins said Herbert changed the meaning of his name entirely. The way she said it changed his name from the name of a crotchety old man and turned it into something wonderful. Suddenly, with Mary Poppins around, Herbert became Her Bert. And once he heard her say it that way, he knew he was a goner. Forevermore he would be Her Bert and nothing could possibly change that.
He was in love with Mary Poppins. The woman who was his best friend and confidante. The woman with whom he had created a wonderful sort of friendship that had been purely platonic at first. The woman who was, first and foremost, a woman, he noticed. It was the second he started noticing the way strands of hair escaped her bun, or the way her eyes sparkled with mirth whenever he teased her, or how she'd bite her lip when trying to hide any nerves she might have, or the way she noticed him noticing that he just knew life would never be the same. She was practically perfect in every way. And he loved her in spite of that. He knew she could get cranky and he knew she had a stubborn streak a mile long. And he loved her for those things. To the world she was practically perfect. To Bert, she was in fact perfect and her flaws made her so.
She didn't know and he didn't know if he ever would tell her. The possibility that he might ruin their friendship was too great. He couldn't bear the thought of her hating him. He couldn't bear the thought of never seeing her again.
And so he'd love her in silence. And she'd never know it, but Mary Poppins would own his heart until the end of time. When Mary Poppins came into his life, Herbert Alfred hated his name. Now that she's in it, he feels like the luckiest guy in the world to have that name. Because now he knows why he was given his name. He'd always be Mary Poppins' Bert
Forever and always, he'd be Her Bert.
I hope you enjoyed.
-Juli-