Okay, this takes place the moment after Mary leaves Bert in Mary Poppins (the musical). I started out trying to write a happy ending for Bert, because I didn't really like the ending he got in the show. And yes, I know it's been done before. Except maybe not like this....

Disclaimer: Must I? Really?

Bert stared at Mary's receding shadow and sighed. He'd blown it again.

He unconsciously put a hand to his cheek, as if to capture the feeling of Mary's soft kiss. It was almost like he could still feel the spot tingling with warmth.

Bert sighed again and walked slowly past the Bank's house and up onto their rooftop. He stared at the sky, wondering where she was now.

"Chim Chimney Chim Chim, Cheree Chim Chiroo…" he sang quietly. He shook his head in disgust with himself. There was no point in moping about what couldn't be changed. He sighed again and turned to the chimney.

A sweeper leaned there, grinning at him. Bert grinned in reply. "Hello, Tom." Tom grinned back at him and pushed off from the chimney.

"Beautiful night, ain't it, Bert?" He said, slinging an arm around Bert.

"Yep. Beautiful," Bert replied, slinging an arm around his friend in return.

"Headed home?" Tom asked, noticing Bert's sidelong glance at the clock in the distance. Bert nodded, and Tom grinned again. "I'll walk ya' home."

The two sweepers walked slowly across the rooftops. Near Bert's flat, Tom stopped and faced his friend.

"Did she leave?" It wasn't much of a question, but Bert nodded anyway. Tom clapped him on the shoulder. "Cheer up, bloke. She'll be back, don't worry." Tom waited until Bert nodded and clapped his shoulder in return.

Tom started to walk away, but stopped and turned back. "Sweeper's luck, Bert," he said quietly, holding out his hand. Bert took it and met his friend's eyes. Tom studied his friend for a moment, and must have seen what he was looking for, so he shook hands with the sweeper.

"Sweeper's luck, Tom."

Bert slammed the door to his apartment against the wind. He started a small fire in the chimney and set a kettle on the fire to boil.

Sitting at the table, he opened his prized possession: a small wooden box carved with animals and flowers. It wasn't really his style, but it had become a family heirloom. Anyway, it wasn't the outside that mattered, but what was kept inside.

Inside was a bundle of paper, letters that Bert had never dared to send. He found a blank piece of paper, and settled down to write, cup of tea in hand.

Dear Mary,

You've left again, and I've missed my chance.

You never act like you have any feelings for me, but after tonight- I thought things would be different.

I was going to tell you something tonight, Mary. I was going to say that I love you. Because I do.

I love you, Mary. I'll be waiting in the Park for you always.

The teacup spilled from Bert's shaking hand, pouring tea all over the letter.

Bert jumped up, swearing softly. He shook the paper frantically, but it was no use. The letter was ruined.

Something inside Bert snapped. He tore the letter into pieces, along with all the rest of his unsent letters to Mary. He gathered up all the scraps, and threw them into the fire.

He stared at the remains, face pale, breathing hard. He could still make out a few fragments. Mary, those kids need y- London is y- I mi- come back.

Bert stood there a moment longer. Then he pushed in his chair, rinsed out his teacup, and walked out the door.

The papers flew up the chimney and out into the London sky. A hand grabbed them eagerly, in search of its next assignment. The owner of the hand read each letter quickly. Dear Mary…Bert. The woman's smile faded as she flipped from letter. She recognized these dates. They were all from when she wasn't in London. They went back years, but the feeling behind each letter was as clear as if they had been written only moments before.

The woman's thoughts flickered between her duty, and her dearest friend. It wasn't a difficult decision.

"Oh, Bert," Mary Poppins sighed at last."What are we going to do with you?"

Bert's feet led the rest of him to the park. He sat on the base of a statue and stared up at the stars. Suddenly he recognized the statue. "You miss her too, Neilius?" he asked, then shook his head in disgust. "I'm losing my marbles." He muttered. He sighed, remembering that glorious day.

"It's a jolly holiday with Mary. Mary makes your heart so light. When the day is gray and ordinary, Mary makes the sun shine bright. When Mary holds your hand- aw, forget it." He whispered, hanging his head in his hands.

Only a few feet away, Mary hovered, in one last moment of hesitation. She was about to turn away unnoticed when Bert turned. The light silhouetted his face as he stared sadly into the darkness. His expression decided it for her. He looked the way she felt; heartbroken that these rare happy days were over.

"It's a jolly holiday with you, Bert. Gentlemen like you are few," a voice behind Bert sang. Bert whirled around, and there was Mary. She was just landing, toes grazing the ground, umbrella closing. Bert took a step forward.

"Mary?" He said in astonishment. His face went from sadness and confusion to joy in a split second. "You're back! You've come back!" he cried.

"Indeed I am! I-" Mary began. Before she could get any further, the wind was knocked out of her by Bert. The world spun around her. When things settled again, she was in Bert's arms, inches away from his face.

To any casual observer, the two would look like a pair sharing a quiet moment underneath the park light. To the two, however, this meant huge lines being crossed, with no chance of ever going back.

Mary's mind raced. One part of her mind was screaming at her that this had gone too far. It was only one kiss! If this goes on too long, it's just going to hurt him more when I leave again! This has to stop! He's going to be brokenhearted when I tell him I have to leave. Another voice was speaking on Bert's behalf. It was just a kiss. He honestly doesn't realize that I care about him. He's my dearest friend. A hug won't hurt him. I can't just leave him hanging after what I did tonight, even if it was a mistake. A third voice started to speak up, But I- but Mary shoved it down before it could continue.

On the other hand, Bert was berating himself for the little display of affection. What am I doing? I'm acting like a kid. No wonder she always leaves. I act like one of her little kids. Stupid, stupid, stupid. I've ruined everything.

Mary finally caught her breath and managed to say something. "Bert?" He blinked at her.

"Hmm?"

"I think you may be pressing your advantage." She looked pointedly at the way he had his hands around her waist, and he flushed.

"Right. Sorry." Bert set her down, but kept her close. She considered stepping away, but decided it wouldn't hurt to have one more moment in his arms. Time was I would have whacked him over the head with my umbrella by now, she thought regretfully. Things were simpler then. "You were saying?" Bert asked her. She shook her head to clear her thoughts.

"I got your letter." She said at last. Bert frowned. He hadn't sent any letter. Mary opened the hand that she'd kept clenched and held it, palm up, for Bert to see. A small scrap of paper said 'I'll be waiting at the pa-'. She said quietly, "I could think of only one place 'pa' could be. I guess I was right." Bert looked at Mary, and just noticed the amused glint in her eyes.

"How did you-" he started. Mary held a finger to his lips and he fell silent. He found himself crossing his eyes to look at Mary's finger, and forced himself to concentrate.

"You truly thought that I didn't care?" Mary asked softly, and shook her head. "You really do talk nonsense, Bert. Of course I care," she answered her own question, stepping back to straighten his shirt.

"You're my dearest friend, Bert. You've always been a part of me, since the day we met." Mary said briskly, continuing to straighten his clothes. "But really, Bert. I've only been gone a few hours. I have a job to do. What do you want of me?" Mary stepped back and held Bert at arm's length.

Instead of answering, Bert studied Mary's face for a moment. Her face was set, yet her eyes were strange. They were cautious, guarded- yet there was something else. There was a hint of sadness.

Mary stared at Bert's face. He seemed hesitant for a moment. He abruptly came to a decision. His face set, yet he couldn't hide the deep sadness she saw in his eyes.

"I want- I want you to decide how you truly feel about me. I'm tired of games, Mary." Bert said quietly. He stuck out his hand, and after a moment, Mary took it. "Sweeper's luck, Mary," Bert said. Mary thought she heard his voice break slightly on her name. Before she could register anything else, Bert turned and walked away.

For a moment, the night was silent. Then came a voice in the darkness. "Bert?" Bert turned and saw Mary still standing under the park light. She looked unusually vulnerable, but Bert stayed hidden in the shadows. She called again. "Come back?" A moment later, "Please?"

That settled it for Bert. Mary never begged. She was the proudest person he knew. It was one of her strengths- and her faults. Still, he waited just a moment longer, hesitating in the shadows.

Mary sighed and sat on the park. She sighed quietly. "Oh, Bert. I'm so sorry. This is all my fault."

"Now, I wouldn't say that. We've both messed up." Bert chided softly, stepping from the shadows. Mary started slightly, but when she recognized Bert, smiled sadly.

"I need to say something." She said quietly. Bert gestured at her to begin, and she smiled at him. She beckoned him closer, but he shook his head and stayed at the edge of the light. Mary closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and began.

In an unusually small voice, she said, "I've always told myself I can't love you. I can't give up my duty. Yet…I can't keep you waiting. It isn't fair to you." Mary sat on the ground, resting against the park light in a way very unlike her. Bert stepped closer, his mind spinning at this news.

"I thought you would move on. I would miss you, but it would be better for both of us." Mary still spoke in a quiet voice, but it had taken on a bitter edge. Bert knelt in front of her and took her face in his hands.

"Do you truly think anyone could ever hold a candle to you?" Bert asked her. "Mary, I- I love you. I always have. Since the day we met." Mary moved her head, and stared into the night. She struggled to keep her thoughts clear.

"I can't give up what I have, Bert," she said sadly. Bert, to his shock, saw tears beginning to form in Mary's eyes. "I can't. It's the only thing I have left. I can't-" Mary's voice broke, and Bert stopped her.

"I would never ask you to choose, Mary. Don't you know me better than that?" He asked her softly. "I just- I just want you to know. I'll always be here, if you'll take me." Mary's eyes glistened with tears.

"I love you, Bert," she whispered brokenly. Bert pulled her into his arms and held her close. As the first tear made its way down her cheek, he kissed her hair.

In the night, it seemed as if they had been taken back into their past. The streetlight could have been the dull light in the servant's quarters. Bert was the young man he was years ago: the oldest son of a banker. Mary was the nanny of his siblings, herself from a family surrounded by poverty and pain.

The pair had come full circle. The last night they had held each other, Bert's father lost his job. Days later, Mary was sent away to boarding school on a scholarship. The two were separated for years, meeting only occasionally when Mary happened to be in London. Bert, meanwhile, became a 'jack of all trades' , never keeping a job for long. Now, the two had reversed roles.

The two stayed in their embrace a moment longer. Mary broke away first. "I can't stay," she informed him sadly. Her wistful look on her normally serious face made Bert smile.

"Second Tuesday, six o'clock?" he asked her. Mary's face lit up into one of her beautiful smiles.

"Second Tuesday." She agreed. Bert helped her up, and they walked together to the street. Mary stopped where they normally went separate ways, and stuck out her hand. Bert took it and shook it gently. "Sweeper's luck, Bert. " Bert grinned at her. It wasn't 'I love you', but it was a start.

"Sweeper's luck, Mary Poppins." I love you, too.

Review, tell me what you think. I've got a couple more Mary Poppins ideas I might be doing at some point or other, but that's pretty much it!

Hope you enjoyed!

Cocoa