Mary finished her picnic basket, carefully wrapping a pair of apples in cloth to prevent them from bruising and setting them next to the wedges of cheese and freshly baked rolls. She was feeling excited about the trip she and Charley were taking to the pond while Colin was away. She enjoyed talking with him and knew that the carefree day would help him relax a bit from all the stress clouding the house. She smiled and picked up the basket, carrying it out into the hall.

"There you are!" Colin smiled as he saw her. "I had been looking for you in your room. I'm surprised you're awake so early!"

"Charley and I are going to the pond today, remember?" Mary asked, leaning forward and letting Colin peck her on the cheek. "I made up a little basket of food for us to enjoy while we're there."

"You're providing a fine distraction for my work-staff, Miss Mary," Colin said, straightening his tie.

Mary frowned. "Colin Craven, have you really turned into such a dictator that you won't permit a boy to spend one day-"

"Mary, calm down. I was just teasing. Of course Charley can go have a day for himself." Colin buttoned his jacket and sighed, looking at Mary with a rather exasperated expression. "Are you going to be this sour when I return?"

Mary scowled. "I'm not sour."

Colin smiled softly and moved closer to her, touching her arms. "Yes. Yes, Mary, you are sour. And you know what? I still love you."

Mary sighed. "You're a saint."

Colin laughed quietly, but there was something in his smile that made Mary feel he was a bit sad. "Well, I should be heading off. I just wanted to say goodbye before I left for my meeting."

"Your meeting," Mary repeated with a smile. "I feel as if you're all grown up, Colin. Dressed like a gentleman, master of a house, coming to say goodbye to me as if I'm your wife."

"You should look into a mirror sometimes, Mary," Colin replied. He kissed her on the cheek once again. "Goodbye. I'll be home by late afternoon, hopefully."

"Alright, I'll see you then," Mary replied. "Oh, have you seen Charley yet? I was hoping we could leave soon..."

"I haven't seen him since last night," Colin replied. "You should try asking Martha. I think she just arrived. I'll see you later."

Mary nodded. "Yes." She set the basket down on the receiving table and turning to go find Martha. But she didn't have very far to travel.

"Mary!" Martha yelled, fury in her voice. She came stomping down the hallway in a fashion Mary had never seen before. "Mary Lennox, has tha' seen my brother?"

"Dickon?" Mary's mind immediately flew to her friend. "No, I haven't...have you tried the gardens yet?"

"No, not Dickon," Martha replied. "Charley. 'e hasn't been home since early yesterday morning. 'e 'asn't completed any of 'is work at home and 'ardly any of the tasks Master Colin set for him to finish before the weddin'!"

Mary blanched. "Oh, Martha...yesterday Charley seemed exhausted and I welcomed him to take a nap in a bedroom...I thought he left late last night, though..."

"Did tha' see 'im leave?"

"No, but I didn't think anything of it-"

"Take me to the room," Martha demanded. As if a little child again, Mary led her up the stairs to a bedroom far down the hall, one primarily used for guests. She knocked hesitantly on the door, but Martha pushed past and barged through. "Charles Sowerby!" she cried. Immediately, Charley bolted upright in the bed.

"Oh, lord," he muttered, his eyes wide and his hair mussed. He jumped up from the bed and hurriedly patted down his hair. "I didn't realize I had slept so late, Martha! I'll just be going now..."

Martha scowled and took him by the collar. "Wherever did you learn your manners, Charley? Not only did you miss a mornin' of work, but you slept in the house we manage as if you were a bloomin' guest!" She turned her vibrant eyes to Mary. "I'm so regretfully sorry, Mary. I promise something like this won't ever happen again!"

"Really, Martha," Mary insisted. "I didn't want to get Charley in trouble! I just wanted to help by getting him some rest! You know your entire family is welcome in this house whenever they like!"

"It won't happen again," Martha repeated, pulling Charley out of the room with her, leaving Mary feeling very lonely once again.

Mary sighed and sat down at the edge of the bed. Why did everyone have to rush around so much? Why couldn't they just sit and talk together, and get to know one another as well as they had during the old times? Ever since she had arrived at Misselthwaite, all everyone had done was rush around without hardly paying a glance toward one another. And now, when she and Charley had made specific plans for an outing, they were surely cancelled as Martha would most likely be having him catch up his slack work from the morning. Was there no more fun in Misselthwaite Manor anymore?

Mary leaned her head back and pulled the pins out of her upswept hair, feeling the tresses cascade down her back as they used to when she was just a little child in India, all tied up with lace and ribbon. She just wanted to feel as young and pretty as she had when she had first come to the house, when she had first befriended Colin and Dickon and it had felt as if the world was for her taking.

Mary stood and walked down the hall to her room, the room she had been given when she had first come to Misselthwaite. It was still the same after all the years, with the dark carvings and heavy tapestries hanging from the walls. She opened the doors to her wardrobe, looking at all the fripperies and coterie frocks it held, remembering how it used to be stocked with plain little black dresses and white pinafores. Mary spotted her calisthenics dress in the far corner of the wardrobe-a plain, light white cotton dress that the girls in the school used when practicing exercises. She gently removed the dress from the hanger and brought it close to her, admiring it's lovely simplicity against the gaudy silks and satins hanging before her. Mary sighed, feeling it was all very cumbersome.

Slowly, Mary pushed off her buttoned boots, pushing them aside with her stocking-covered feet with a clatter. She unfastened the tight-waist skirt and unbuttoned the white shirtwaist and matching jacket, letting the pieces fall around her feet, leaving her only wearing a corset and her bloomers. Mary slipped the cool, light fabric of the white dress over her head, letting it fall naturally around her neat curves, and pulling her loose hair free to elegantly drape across her neckline.

Mary turned her head and looked into the mirror hanging inside the wardrobe. She smiled. She was finally starting to feel like her old self again, the self she so admired. The self who had whittled a whimsical garden out of a dying jungle, who had taught a neglected boy to love and who had given a crippled man a purpose to live. Mary smiled to herself, smoothing down the front of the dress, feeling the pull of the Garden. She had to go there.

Mary ran to the Garden, feeling much happier than she had in days, feeling the glorious sunshine upon her face and uncovered neck, feeling her long hair skimming her arms. She hadn't cared when Cook or the other housemaids had looked at her queerly when she ran by in her strange outfit and she hadn't cared when Martha had cast her a disapproving look. Nothing mattered but feeling the way she did right now, right there.

Mary grinned and pushed open the Garden door, but stopped suddenly.

Inside the Garden, kneeled down and serenely working in the dirt, was Dickon, with his dirt-smudged face and his curly hair. He looked up, hearing the door's creak, and looked just as surprised to see Mary as she had been to see him. "Mary," he said quickly, standing up and absently brushing off his trousers. "I didn't expect...I mean, I didn't know..."

Mary smiled weakly and looked down at her light dress. The whole idea suddenly seemed so silly. "Hello, Dickon," she said with a breath. "It's lovely to see you once again."

Dickon nodded. "It's good to see tha' too, Mary."

Mary smiled again. She walked over to where he had been working and sat on the grass, folding her legs like she had as a child. It felt so natural. "I thought you were busy working on the garden that Martha will be getting married in," she said conversationally, beginning to pull a few stray weeds.

"I have been," Dickon replied awkwardly, as if Mary was a stranger he didn't know quite how to speak to. "But I always make time for this garden. I promised tha', Mary, a long, long time ago."

Mary smiled up at him. "You did promise me that. I would have thought you might have forgotten by now."

Dickon paused, weeding. "I never forget about the gardens," he finally replied. Mary's heart sank a bit. But you forget about me? she secretly wondered. "Anyway," he continued. "I do have to prepare this garden for a weddin'."

Mary frowned, sitting upright. "Another wedding? Whose?"

"I would like to get married in this garden someday," Dickon told Mary, his eyes holding just a bit of the same twinkle it had when they were children. "That is, if you'll allow me..."

Mary's heart leapt as he said these words and an uncontrollable grin spread across her face at his mention of marriage. "Dickon, why are you asking my permission?" she asked, half-excitedly, hoping with all her might that he would reply with that twinkle and a grin, "Because you are the one I wish to marry."

But instead, Dickon replied, "Because it's really your garden, Mary. You were the one who found it, you were the one who showed me and wished for us to nurse it back to health. It really belongs to you, not Colin or I."

"Oh," Mary said softly, turning her eyes from Dickon, her face blushing. "Oh. Well, of course I will give you permission to use it, Dickon. The Garden wouldn't be what it is now if it weren't for you. Of course," she smiled at him, "I will most definitely have to approve of this girl you're going to marry before I let her see my garden."

"Don't worry," Dickon laughed. "I'm sure you'll very much turn out to like her, Miss Mary."

Mary blushed again at the sound of her old nickname he used to call her. And at the same time she was wondering if maybe, possibly, she could be the one he spoke of. Why else would he want to marry a girl in the garden if not for the reason that she had painstakingly brought it back to life? The Garden held such a connection between the pair of them...wouldn't it be just the place to bind them together for life?

"Look, Dickon!" Mary cried, standing up and brushing off her dress. She led him over to the swing she and Charley had played on just a few days ago. "Our old swing! Do you remember when we used to swing and take pictures on this rickety old thing?" She smiled and sat on the swing, holding tight to the ropes.

"Of course I remember," Dickon grinned, circling the swing and looking up at the old tree that held it. "We made many good memories here, didn't we, Miss Mary?"

"Yes," Mary agreed. She smiled and closed her eyes, leaning far back on the swing.

"Whoa, Miss Mary," Dickon laughed, touching her back and leaning her back into an upright position. "We wouldn't want tha' fallin' off right before the weddin', would we?"

Mary smiled up at him and moved to the side of the seat. "Come sit with me, Dickon." He grinned and sat backwards on the swing, so that their bodies faced away from each other, but they were turned toward one another to talk. "Oh, Dickon," Mary grinned breathlessly. "I didn't get much of a chance to talk to you the other day on the lawn...but Dickon, I've missed you so much! Sometimes I could hardly stand being away from you while I was in London!"

"I missed you too, Mary," Dickon said seriously.

"Do you remember all the wonderful times we had when we were younger?" Mary asked with a laugh. "Not only in the Garden, but making trouble around the house and swimming at the pond and riding the ponies?"

"I remember, Mary," Dickon said. "I remember all of it."

"Oh, wasn't it the best time? The very best times of our lives? I've been wishing the entire time I've been here that I could just go back to those times and relive them. I love both you and Colin so much, and I can't stand thinking that we're all grown up and getting ready to own our own houses and marry people and start families of our own...it will kill me to see my own daughter playing with little friends in a garden like ours, knowing that my days of playing in my garden are over."

"Mary, our days in the Garden, they don't have to end," Dickon insisted, putting his palm to Mary's face. He looked around the beautiful, wondrous Garden. "I'm still in the Garden all the time, and Colin as well. And now you're here too...it's become a part of us. And it's made us who we are, as people." He chuckled. "You might all think that I've always been the same, just the little dirty boy diggin' in the dirt and mud and talking to the birds. But the Garden...it made me see just how much of an impact I can have on the world by just givin' it a little bit of carin'. That's what the world needs, doesn't it? Love and carin'?" He looked at the Garden with admiration, and the sparkle of his eye drew Mary in. "This garden has made me kinder, and more appreciative. And it has made me tolerant and patient. It has given me so many gifts. It has given me the chance to grow and do good things...and it's given me you, Mary."

Mary looked at Dickon in surprise, tears forming in her eyes. "Me?"

Dickon took Mary's face in his hands and looked her gently in the eyes. "Mary, before you came here, I only knew love for the earth and the sky and its creatures. But when you came...you taught me to love people. You taught me to love you."

"Dickon, I..." Mary closed her eyes for a moment, bringing her hands up to cover Dickon's. "I didn't know how to love anyone, either. I think we taught each other."

Dickon looked longingly at Mary, his thumb brushing her cheekbones. Mary tearfully smiled at him, remembering all the times she had wished to be with Dickon in this way. "Dickon," she began, but she didn't get to finish. Dickon had brought her face to his and gently kissed her. Feeling his soft lips upon hers, Mary melted. A warm feeling flooded her body in a way it never had before, as she never knew it even could. But then he pulled away.

"Mary," Dickon said suddenly, breathing heavily. "I know I shouldn't have done that," he told her, jumping up from the swing.

"But why, Dickon?" Mary asked in surprise, getting up as well. "I know we have feelings for each other, Dickon. That is plain as day, and has been ever since we were little children! You know Colin was always jealous!"

"Colin was jealous of us?" Dickon laughed incredulously. "I was always jealous of you two because of your special bond as family!"

"Oh Dickon, why do we even play these games?" Mary asked in frustration. "We're adults now, we can deal with our feelings in a rational manner..."

"Mary," Dickon silenced her with a sigh. "Mary, ever since you went away, I was longin' for you. It wasn't always in the romantic way, but I missed you so. And as I grew older, I realized that I wouldn't be seein' you in a long while and convinced myself to stop feelin' that way about you. I couldn't visit you often like Colin could and I couldn't present you with the things he could. And I promised, I promised myself that I wouldn't resort back to those old feelin's when you came back, but it's just so hard when you're here. That's why I haven't seen you. That's why I've been avoiding you and why I went away so quickly when I first saw you. It's just too hard, Mary."

"Dickon," Mary cried. "If two people are meant to be together-"

"I can't, Mary," Dickon shook his head. He started toward the door of the Garden. "I just can't. It's all just too painful for me. I see you, and everything I try and convince myself of just flies away. I just can't take it."

"Dickon!" Mary called after him. "Dickon!" He finally turned back to her just as he reached the door, with a very pained look upon his face. Mary took a breath and tried to hold back her tears. "Will I still be seeing you at the wedding tomorrow?" she asked softly.

Dickon looked back at Mary, his brown eyes quite dull. "Of course, Mary," he said. "I wouldn't be missin' it for the world."

"Good," Mary replied serenely. "I wouldn't either."

Dickon gave her one final look before he walked out of the Garden, shutting the door behind him. And as soon as she knew he had left, Mary dropped to her knees and began to sob over what she had lost and what could never be.

A/N: Wow, I am SUCH a horrible author! I haven't updated this story in probably over a year, which is ridiculous since the characters come so easily and are so easy to write about! Anyway, so sorry for the huge delay in getting this chapter out, but I really think I'm on a roll here and another one should be out soon!

I'd really like your feedback! How do you like the plot so far? What do you think/hope is going to happen for Mary, Colin and Dickon? How is the whole wedding event going to go down? I'd love suggestions and definitely take them to heart :) After all, this story started with a very Mary/Colin theme, but you all have convinced me that Mary/Dickon can definitely happen! How will it all end? You guys really influence it!

Thanks SO, SO much for reading! And be sure to take my Colin/Dickon poll on my page!