So I'd been wanting to write holiday fic for a while, and then I saw MP onstage last weekend, and the whole Mary/Bert being practically canon in that version kind of ATE MY BRAIN. So this is my first foray into MP fandom, hope you enjoy! And Merry Christmas!
"Mary Poppins, do you know Father Christmas?"
"Michael Banks, what on Earth makes you think I would know Father Christmas?"
"Well, you're both magical. I bet if anyone could manage to squeeze him down the chimney, it would be you."
"Me? Squeeze people down chimneys? The very thought! Now, lay out your stockings, and then into bed, please!"
Michael and his sister, Jane, obediently did as they were told. Jane, however, paused with her covers half-pulled up and looked up at her nanny.
"Mary Poppins, what will you be doing for Christmas?" she asked, "Will you be seeing Bert?"
"That is my business," replied Mary Poppins brusquely, "to bed now. Spit-spot."
The two children settled into bed and Mary Poppins ensured that they were sufficiently tucked in and asleep before turning out the light. She waited until she was sure that her charges were asleep, and then pulled her coat and scarf off the hook and slipped quietly out of the house, stopping to pick up her umbrella by the door.
A thick snow had been falling all afternoon, but this did not hinder Mary Poppins. She simply raised her umbrella and floated just high enough to skim across the top of the snow.
She travelled in this fashion down Cherry Tree Lane towards the park. When she reached the gate, she saw that the snow covering the pavement had been cleared away, and there was a figure kneeling on the ground.
Mary smiled as she set down in the park. The kneeling figure straightened and turned towards her, a grin spreading over his face from ear to ear.
"Season's greetings, Mary Poppins!" he greeted her.
"Merry Christmas, Bert," she replied, "What have you got for us this year?"
Bert stood up and surveyed the chalk drawings he had been working on, which were illuminated by a nearby streetlamp. Mary joined him to examine them herself.
"I couldn't decide between a sleigh pulled by reindeer, or roasting chestnuts on the fire," he explains, "which would you prefer?"
"They both look wonderful," Mary admitted, and contemplated them a little longer, before declaring, "Oh, let's do both, shall we? We've got the whole night before us, why not?"
Bert grinned again. "Sounds good to me. Shall we?" He held out his hand and Mary took it in hers. A moment later, they were both transported into the scene that was depicted on the pavement in front of them.
The sleigh was painted red and green, with gold trim, and when Mary ran her hand over the seats, she recognised the material as genuine leather. Sleigh bells were draped all along the outside edge. In front were eight reindeer, all harnessed together and all snuffling and fidgeting. A couple of them were stamping impatiently.
Bert let out a whistle as he surveyed his friend in the seat next to him. "Beautiful!" he remarked, "as usual."
Mary blushed, and looked away, a smile playing at the corners of her mouth. She took a moment to look at her dress: it was primarily white with bright red and green ribbons woven through the bodice.
"I look like a candy cane" was her own response.
"Well, I ain't never met someone who didn't like one of those," Bert assured her, causing her to smile again.
"You look rather fine, too," she told him, and it was true. His suit was made up of all the Christmas colours, and his bowtie was decorated with tiny Christmas trees. He flashed her a grin and then picked up the reins.
"All right, you lot!" he called to the reindeer, "Atteeeeeeeeention!" The reindeer immediately stopped their fidgeting and stood up straight. Bert gave the reins a flick and they began trotting across the snow. When they had picked up enough speed, the ones in front turned their heads to the sky and leapt. The other reindeer followed, and then the sleigh itself left the ground, sleigh bells ringing merrily. Mary shrieked as she was tipped backwards, and grabbed onto Bert's arm to steady herself.
Once the sleigh steadied itself in the sky, Mary remembered herself and looked up at Bert to gauge his reaction to her clinging to him. For the most part, he was keeping his eyes on the reindeer, but he did turn and look down at her for a moment, broad grin still on his face. He gave her a wink, before turning his attention forward again. After that, Mary decided it was really doing no harm for her to keep her arm linked in Bert's, and she stayed there even after the flying became much smoother.
Once they were flying straight, Mary sat up a little and looked out over the edge of the sleigh. London was far beneath them, streetlamps dotted along the roads like tiny stars lighting people's paths. In certain parts of the city, large, beautifully decorated Christmas trees were lit up, reaching towards the sky. All around, snow was glistening on the footpaths.
"Beautiful view, innit?" Bert asked. He was watching the same sights out of his side of the sleigh.
"We couldn't have asked for better," Mary agreed, "it's such a lovely night."
"And for a spot more fun…" Bert trailed off, giving the reins another flick. Immediately, the reindeer made a sharp turn upwards and then almost immediately turned and dove down again, ducking to the right at the same time. Mary's grip on Bert's arm grew tighter again, and she tried to give him a stern look, rather than grimacing as the cold air stung her cheeks.
"Bert!" she exclaimed, "please cease this ridiculous showing off!" She was trying to use the same tone of voice she used when her charges were misbehaving, but she had the distinct feeling it came out sounding rather more strangled and anxious. Bert allowed the reindeer one more twist and turn, before he reined them back into line.
"Sorry, Mary Poppins," Bert apologised, "got a bit too excited. It is Christmas, after all."
Mary relaxed a little now that they were travelling in a straight line again, but her heart was still racing. And yet, in spite of the adrenaline, she found herself shivering.
Bert noticed and said, "It is might cold up here, Mary Poppins. Perhaps it's time for those chestnuts."
"I think that sounds perfect," Mary agreed.
Keeping a grip on Bert's arm, she focused on transporting the two of them from the sleigh and into the second of Bert's chalk drawings: a cozy drawing room with a blazing fire and deep, comfortable arm chairs. A bowl of chestnuts sat on the coffee table, and next to it two, two glasses of eggnog already poured out.
Ever the gentleman, Bert made sure Mary was sitting down and handed her one of the glasses immediately, before setting to work roasting the chestnuts for both of them. He had only had them over the fire for a few minutes when the scent started wafting under Mary's nose and she started to grow impatient. Deciding that she didn't want to wait, Mary snapped her fingers and immediately the chestnut shells started to come away from the nut contained inside.
"I think those are ready," she remarked nonchalantly to Bert, who was staring at the pan somewhat surprised before he realised what had happened.
"Well, that's one way to do it," he replied pleasantly, carrying the pan back over to the table. He tipped the chestnuts back into their bowl and then proceeded to fish one out to peel. It was still hot and so there was quite a bit of bouncing it from hand to hand and not much peeling happening.
Mary watched, bemused, for a few moments, before saying, "Would you like some help with that, Bert?"
Deciding that the chestnut was clearly too hot for him to handle just yet, and sensing that Mary Poppins had something else up her sleeve, Bert tossed it back into the bowl.
"You know I'd never say no, Mary Poppins."
Mary slid the bowl over the table until it was in front of her, and gave it and its contents a pleasant smile. "Would you be so kind?" she asked it.
Immediately, the chestnuts began to peel out of their shells. As the nuts were freed, the shells popped themselves out of the bowl and made a neat pile on the table that could be disposed of later. Mary picked the first one out of the bowl and popped it into her mouth. After a moment, she nodded, seemingly pleased with the result. Bert took this as a sign that he could take a few for himself, and followed Mary's lead.
It wasn't long before the chestnuts were all polished off, and the eggnog glasses were sitting empty on the table. The rum in her drink in had left a pleasant hum in Mary's mind. Up until then, she had been sitting primly on the edge of the lounge, while Bert had lounged more comfortably. Now, however, she found herself happy to slide into the lounge chair and relax a bit more. She did jump when she felt Bert reach over from his end of the lounge and take her hand, but she relaxed again at the sight of the lazy smile he gave her, and gave his hand a squeeze. The fire was so warm and Mary found herself feeling drowsy and let her eyes drift closed.
In that half-asleep state, she didn't notice Bert scoot closer to her, or that he slipped an arm around her and positioned himself in such a way that she was now dozing with her head on his shoulder. Bert smiled to himself as she subconsciously nuzzled into his shoulder, making herself more comfortable.
Mary didn't know how much time had passed when Bert whispered her name quietly in her ear and she started awake. She quickly took in his close proximity and the arm around her waist.
"Well, this is highly unusual," she commented, but Bert noted that she didn't exactly make any move to change the circumstances.
"You don't seem to be complaining too much," he replied.
"That's because I never complain."
Bert smirked but did not respond. Instead, he just said, "Well, we've been here a while, I suppose you need to be getting back."
Mary was still feeling drowsy, but she nodded. "Goodness knows what time Jane and Michael will be up, wanting to open their gifts from Father Christmas." She pulled herself to the edge of the lounge and stood up, holding out her hand to Bert, who took it and stood up next to her. With a nod, the comfortable drawing room dissolved around them, and moments later they were back in the park, surrounded by snow.
"Well, a very good Christmas if ever there was one," Bert declared the evening.
"One of our finest yet," Mary agreed.
"Well, I suppose I'd better let you get back to young Jane and Michael."
"Yes, I suppose I'd better…" Mary noticed that she and Bert were still holding hands. She looked from their hands to Bert and back again, drawing his gaze down to it as well.
"Well, would you look at that," he said. He seemed reluctant to let go and Mary could have sworn he actually tightened his grip slightly. "Merry Christmas, Mary." With that, he leaned in and kissed her softly on the lips. She was responding before she realised what she was doing and could catch herself.
When they broke apart, they were both smiling. Bert was the first to speak. "Well, now. I think that makes it the finest Christmas we've had yet."
Mary's smile broadened. "Under any other circumstances, I'm sure I'd tell you that was highly inappropriate," she said, trying to sound stern and failing once again, but for different reasons this time. "However, at the present, I think I'm simply content with –" at this point, she leaned in and kissed him again – "Merry Christmas, Bert."