[3 years have passed]

Chapter 1: Three years

In the secret garden…

"Mary!"

"Hie there, Dickon!"

A scampering of footsteps as Mary races into the Secret Garden to find Dickon, weeding harder than ever. His pet goose and rabbit watched patiently from the side.

"You're early today, aren't ye, Miss Mary?"

"Aye, Miss Dibbon ended the lesson a little earlier today, to let me go out to play. It's such a beautiful day."

Miss Dibbon was both Mary's and Colin's tutor, and taught them both at the same time. Uncle Craven had decided to let them both learn at home with a hired teacher as there was not a school within the distance of the moor. This pleased Mary, for she would always be home, nearer to her friends and the Secret garden.

Dickon laughs.

"Please, Mary, tha' the ripe ol' age of thirteen! And yet ye still refer to gardening as 'playin'."

"Don't remind me, Dickon. I hate being a thirteen, why, it's so old."

"Eh? Tha old? Then what about me? I'm fifteen! If thee were ol', I be ancient."

Mary giggled. She and Dickon always had so much fun together, even though they just said the silliest things.

"Hei, where's Mester Colin? Didn't he be allowed to come out with you after the lessons?"

"That old stick-in-the mud's at his books again. Reading about how the Earth orbits or something."

"Queer, he is. Tis not the first time he spend his day cooped up when it's heavenly out."

Mary sighed and knelt down to help Dickon with the weeding. A whole family of weeds had just exploded from that patch, goodness knows from where.

Her hand accidentally brushed against Dickon's, and the two felt a tingle, like a spark, run through their veins.

Mary blushed. So did Dickon. Blunt and honest he was, this was something he had not quite grasped hold of yet, and he couldn't express it out loud.

Throughout the years, Dickon had seen Mary grow- and Mary saw Dickon grow too. Mary was blossoming out into a really pretty lady, and Dickon-well, he got more muscular by day when we worked in the gardens and roamed in the wildness of the moor. And- it had been more than once, where he felt that he liked lady Mary. More than just friendship-but he kept the feelings to himself, unsure if they were fit to like each other. Martha knew, and sometimes teased him about it- but he shook it off.

Somehow the moment when their hands touched reminded them of an incident from long ago.

It was about three years back, when he had first me Mary. Mary was afraid to stroke Soot, then Dickon's pet crow- so he had held her hand in his and moved it, up and down Soot's feathers. She was so happy to be able to stroke the tame crow.

Another time, Mary had just discovered the Secret Garden and he was teaching her all about gardening. The two had placed their hands on the same weed, and held them there a moment, feeling the same tingling sensation run through them. Then the planting of a bulb- Dickon had held Mary's hand for a few seconds-which weren't necessary- to plant the bulb the right way. That time, he looked at her in a way a big brother looked at a younger sister- he pitied her for her unpleasant childhood in India, and promised himself he would take care of her and show her the beautiful things in life.

Well, if his wish was to bring in the magic and joy of nature into Mary's life then it would be safe to say that he was fulfilled his task. He wasn't the only contributor, though, Mr. Craven helped. He made her feel wanted and saw to her needs, and even allowed them to continue enjoying themselves in the garden, which he visited regularly.

He had long gotten over his wife's death, though seeing the garden alive made him feel painful, for it reminded him of Lilias so much- the living garden somehow made it as if Lilias were alive too, and he told himself to let go of the past and accept the new breathing future. It was hard- but worth it. And with Mary and Colin, life, he could say, was sweet.

For Colin had made leaps and bounds with his recovery. The doctor was dismissed- together with his funny medicines and cures- the only cure that cured Colin was the wellness of nature, and the joy of being surrounded by friends. He still was quite bossy and rude once in a while but since no one is perfect, everyone accepted that. He grew into a knowledgeable young boy, naturally inquisitive. His years of being cooped up and left to reading books full of knowledge and facts had made him this way.

But he was in the house now, probably still reading away. Mary and Dickon were still in the garden. They held their hands in the same position for some time. Needless to say, they were both blushing. Mary giggled again. She seemed to love giggling, Dickon thought to himself, though he didn't see the point of it. Whenever you have something to laugh about, you ought to give out a big, hearty laugh, that was his way of thinking. Somehow whenever girls found something amusing, awkward or funny, they would let out a high pitched laugh, which would be stifled into a soft giggle.

Dickon smiled.

"Mary! Time for supper!", Martha called from the doorway. She had grown rather plump from her first child, after marrying a gardener, but she was still the same, jolly old Martha. Her little baby boy lived with Mrs Sowerby, and they visited him regularly. He was a chubby little thing, pink and healthy with bright blue eyes, just like Dickon's.

"Yes, Martha! Coming!"

Mary quickly drew back her hand, and twirled a few strands of her strawberry-blonde hair.

"Well, there goes Martha. How I wish she wouldn't shout, it makes me feel like a little girl."

Dickon just grinned. Mary really wanted to grow up fast.

"Yep, well, tha better not be late, aye?"

"Yes. Okay, good-bye, Dickon. See you tomorrow."

"Sure."

Mary got up and made her way to the door. But suddenly she spun around, causing her yellow skirt and long loose hair to spin gently in the air.

Walking up to Dickon, they came face-to-face. Dickon started to breathe faster-his heart pounding.

Mary reached out to finger the lose ends of his scarf, leant forward, but then hesitated. She then murmured a 'got to go', barely audible, and ran out of the door, slamming it shut.

Dickon was still in a daze. Smiling, he picked up the tools, called his animals to him and made off for home.

*Hope you like it! Sorry if it's not that good, but this is my first fanfic. Please review and give comments!

PS this may seem very Mary/Dickon, but only for this chapter :)