Chapter Two

Mr. Hannigan narrowed his eyes at Mary Poppins, unsure whether he should go ahead and hire her. She was peculiar, but otherwise seemed to be the spitting image of perfection. He was afraid if he took his eyes off of her, she would disappear and this would all be a dream. "Would you kindly stop staring; I am not a mirage." Mary said firmly as she grabbed the letter from his hands. Mr Hannigan didn't quite know how to react. Somehow, the note his daughter had given to him and his wife about a new nanny had gotten in the hands of this woman. Mary folded the paper and stuffed it in her carpet bag. "Now, then, I'll see the children."

And she walked off towards the nursery. ~*~She was happy she didn't have to see London. She was happy the children were sweet enough to not make her want to jump into the Thames. They were enough to keep her concentrated and focused, away from the lingering thoughts that surrounded her dreams. Mary felt that this time, she was not only doing this because it was her joy or her duty, but because it was a chance to take a break from the emotional pain inflicted on her within the past week. Bert was only on her mind when she allowed herself to think of him, and told herself it was okay to let her emotions show. But just like the decisions of where she went and what she did were made for her, she had no control most of the time. His face would appear out of nowhere, in the strangest of ways, invading her mind with memories she didn't want to think about. Mary would hum quietly while cleaning after the children, and there he would be, humming along with her, walking her through the moonlit streets of London. She would stay up at night, and sew her way through another pair of torn socks, rocking back in forth in the rocking chair, and there he was again, arms wrapped around her shoulders, lips planted on her cheek, and a warm summer breeze would burst through the open window, brushing against their bare skin. The park was the one place she couldn't bear to be in for any more time than was absolutely necessary. As unusual as it was for her, she would have to make up excuses to the children and hurry them out of there, before she would find a single tear begin to drop from her eye. Luckily, there were few sunny days that needed to be ruined by her foolish sentimental thinking. There were simple, stupid things that made her want to break down as well. Like how every time she looked at her hand, the nakedness of her finger would haunt her. It was no wonder Mary Poppins didn't explain herself to anyone. Half of the time, she didn't know why she did the things she did, like when she had left that ring to sit alone in the rain. Afraid maybe, scared that its presence in her life would make her focus go ajar, would tell her that she might have made a mistake for once by saying no to the man she loved and desired. Or even worse things might happen. She might be tempted. Even so, with or without the ring, Mary was still in trouble with herself. And she felt it may take forever to recover. It did, practically. ~*~Mary was getting hot, and the friction of the sheets, only made her skin burn even more. Swiftly, she anchored her body to the other side of the room and opened the window. Instantly, a cooling rush of wind grazed her fair curves, and ran along her lines. Peering outside, the night sky was the perfect shade of navy, and the stars were the brightest she'd ever seen. This scenery explained exactly how she had felt moments ago. Completely high, light as the wind, and glowing with all the pleasure and love that was filling her heart. She thanked her ability to paint a picture with nature, and match her feelings with the atmosphere when they become the most beautiful and the happiest. Mary held the thin sheet to her chest and smiled over her shoulder. Of course, Bert was still sleeping, exhausted from the amount of energy he had put into making her feel as beautiful and amazing as she truly was. And then, she felt it again, that slight difference in the wind, the change that made her messy locks cascading from her pinned up hair, blow away from her face and dance in front of her eyes. It would be that morning that she would have to leave London again. Though her charges had already been taken care of, her job wasn't yet complete in the city, and in her heart, she deserved one night to keep to herself. And how could she be unhappy when she had just been given everything a young woman could possibly dream of? It was enough to satisfy her for a while, and while she knew she would miss her every second Tuesday, she still refused to let her heart start hurting all at once. Taking her rightful place in his bed, she lay gently on the mattress and smiled to herself. A sigh escaped her lips as she felt Bert wrapping an arm around her slender waist. Their legs fitted between each other, and Bert's lips were back where they started, along her rosy cheek. "The winds have changed, haven't they?"

There was always something about Mary Poppins that told him when it was time for her to be gone again, and he didn't need to feel the direction of the wind to tell him that. Whether her eyes had more of a sparkle than a twinkle, or maybe her raven hair had become more of a waterfall than a blanket, she showed him in her own special way when she would soon be absent from his arms. But only for a little while. Mary nodded, but smiled anyways. Her body sank into his, and she started to feel herself becoming aroused again. Goosebumps travelled along her skin, reaching the most intimate places of her body. The hands that touched her in the most perfect way, disappeared beneath the sheet, and stopped themselves upon her inner thigh. Bert hesitated, not knowing if there was enough time, not knowing if this would be cause havoc on her emotions. But Mary showed him that she thought otherwise, as she placed her hand on top of his and guided him towards her center. She used him as a puppet, massaging herself with his hand, motioning him to continue the rhythm she had going.

"Please," she breathed, almost begging. Her legs spread apart as he started, rubbing gently at first, but gaining friction as his fingers made their way further down…~*~Mary's eyes opened as soon as she heard a cry come from the pram. She looked around, found herself sitting up, then looked down into her lap. Needle and thread lay idly upon her knee, a half finished sock placed in her hand. As soon as she got the baby to calm down and put away the sewing supplies, she began thinking again. There was too much to handle for all the hours in a day. There was too much that she bore on her shoulders. When awake, she was haunted, and when asleep, she was tortured. Her dreams weren't blurred, but vivid, and real. Her memories were the same. And for once, she didn't think of how much she missed Bert, or how she needed him. All she needed to know now, was how to get rid of him.