Stars
Written for the 10_quotes community at LJ, inspired by the quote "I love this place at night. The stars... there's no right or wrong in them. They're just there," from "Platoon".
Mary and Bert were walking through the streets of London in the early evening, holding hands. It had been two weeks since they had confessed their love for each other, two weeks in which both Mary and Bert had had time to think about their love for each other. Mary had come to the conclusion that while she wanted to be with Bert, her duties were more important. And while her decision could be accepted on an intellectual level, she could not accept it in her heart.
Bert had not been able to accept the fact that Mary valued her duties over their love. But he still loved her, just as she loved him, even though she valued her duties more.
But here they were, walking through the park at dusk, holding hands. They were quiet, not wanting or needing to talk. There was nothing either of them could say, so they remained silent.
Reaching his building, Bert looked down at Mary.
"I'd like to show you something, Mary," he said, and she nodded. He unlocked the door to his building and led her up the stairs. Reaching the uppermost level, he unlocked a door, and led her up the final flight of stairs to the roof.
There was a blanket spread out on the roof, and Bert led her to the blanket. They laid down next to each other, hands touching lightly, looking up at the stars.
"I love this place at night," he told her. "The stars... there's no right or wrong in them. They're just there."
She turned to look at him. "It is quite beautiful," she replied. He turned to face her as well, resting his hand on her cheek.
"Is there no chance we can ever be together, Mary?" he asked her softly.
"I don't know, Bert," she whispered. "I have my duties, and while I can accept that in my mind, I can't accept that in my heart."
"You don't have to accept it, Mary," he whispered. "Be with me; let me love you."
She moved closer to him, letting her lips meet his in a tender, sweet kiss. Timidly, he wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her flush against him. She shivered as she felt his desire for her growing against her abdomen. Mary Poppins let her practically perfect façade slip as she moved even closer to Bert, deepening the kiss. Once they were forced to break for air, he rested his forehead against hers.
"I love you, Mary," he said.
"I love you, Bert," she replied. He stood up, reaching down to her. She took his hand, stepping into his arms once again.
"Take me to bed," she whispered, and he nodded, taking her hand and leading her down to his flat.
He scooped her up in his arms, a foolishly romantic gesture that made her smile. Laying her out on the bed, he undressed her slowly. And when they were both lying on his bed, making love for the first and probably the last time, they were no longer Mary Poppins, practically perfect nanny, and Bert Alfred, jack-of-all-trades; but were Mary and Bert, two people connected in every possible way – physically, mentally, emotionally. They reached the heights of ecstasy together, and when they fell back to earth, they knew that they would never be the same.