I'm sorry these updates are taking me so long to crank out! School is completely eating my life up right now and I fear it shall stay that way for the rest of my college career. Yay for education. Regardless of how long it's taken me, I do hope you like this! We're almost to the end, after all!
I own nothing, as always.
She wakes the children early to get them dressed for their outing with their father. She sends them off hastily, eager to begin her day off. She's well aware that they're about to get into trouble—it's necessary to bring their family closer together—though she doesn't know exactly what they'll do. Given what she knows about Jane and Michael, it's sure to be rather spectacular, but she has to let it happen. And in any case, she's rather excited to begin her day out.
She checks her hair one last time as she places her hat on her head and smiles in satisfaction. Practically perfect. Then she grabs her favorite red coat and leaves before anyone can try to rope her into any of the chores.
She walks briskly down the lane until she comes to the park. Bert seems to sense her approach and looks up, a grin on his face as he wipes his forehead. She hides a smile when the rag he uses leaves a smear of green chalk, and she pulls out her handkerchief. "Come here," she commands, motioning to him. "You look ridiculous."
He approaches her obediently and she rubs the smudge off his face. She gets distracted and her hand traces his jaw. He leans in and captures her lips with his. The world goes quiet for a moment. Oh, how she's missed him! She deepens the kiss, hoping to convey just that.
The world creeps back in when a policeman blows his whistle nearby. "Well, good morning, Mary!" Bert grins.
She coughs discreetly, suddenly realizing how very public a venue this is. "Hello, Bert. How are you this morning?"
"Considerably better now, thanks for asking," he smiles cheekily. "Now, 'ave you 'ad your breakfast today?"
"I think we both know the answer to that."
"Then per'aps you'll let me treat you?"
"Of course," she agrees. "I would appreciate it."
"Well, come on then." He nods towards the sidewalk and for the first time she notices the group of drawings he'd been working on. They're all lovely, but one catches her eye—a forest scene in the midst of a beautifully vibrant autumn. She looks to him and he nods, the signal that she's chosen correctly. In three seconds, they're standing in that gorgeous forest.
"Oh Bert," she sighs happily. "It's beautiful!"
He grins. "I 'oped you'd say that. Mary, you look…" he swallows nervously. "You look stunning."
Mary looks down at the deep red gown that has replaced her coat and then at her companion. "You look quite handsome yourself," she says, suddenly shy. He takes her hand. "Bert," she hisses, pulling away.
"Relax, Mary," he smiles reassuringly. "There's no one around."
She consents, too taken by the surroundings and by the pleasant weight of his hand in hers to care much about propriety. Besides, that kiss earlier, in front of the whole of London, hardly leaves her a leg to stand on.
They walk for awhile, reveling in nothing but the simple joy of the company of a person you love on a sunny fall day. Just as Mary is starting to think about the lack of promised breakfast, they come to a charming clearing with a white wrought-iron table and chairs. A piping hot coffee pot sits on top, next to a plate of steaming pancakes. "Impressive," she compliments him.
He preens, putting on a show for her and she giggles. "I wish you'd laugh more, Mary," he says. "There'd be no more need for music in the world."
"You greatly exaggerate," she chides. "Do continue."
"Your wish is my command, oh goddess on 'igh." His bow is ridiculously over the top.
Mary makes a face. "I am most certainly not a goddess. I wish you wouldn't call me that."
He looks worried. "Mary, if I've offended you…"
"It just makes me sound so… so untouchable, so above everyone and everything. There was a time in my life when that was my goal, to not need anything or anyone. But now, now I see that… well, that for all my… oddities, I'm human. I need food, water, and shelter. I need…" She becomes bashful and studies her hands as her cheeks color prettily. "I need to be touched. To be loved."
He takes her hand across the table. "I love you, Mary Poppins."
"And I you, Bert."
He shifts a little nervously. Suddenly, Mary knows what is coming, knows he's about to propose for the second time. "Mary, when we were 'ere the last ime, all I could think of was 'ow I'd give anything to make you my wife. But you left."
"I am sorry about that, Bert. You do believe me, don't you?"
"I do, but it's not important anymore. When you left, Mary, I tried to get over you—I tried to forget 'ow you made me feel an' I couldn't. Any time I tried to think of the future, you were the only one I could imagine there with me. An' I realized it's not fair of me to ask you to suddenly stop following the wind an' stay with me. That used to kill me, but now- now all I want is for you to be 'appy. An' if that means never living as 'usband and wife, I don't care. All I want is to see you smile an' 'ear you laugh."
"Bert-"
'Let me finish, alright?" She stays quiet. "I'm not asking you to marry me. An' I won't until you decide it's the life you want for yourself. Until then, I'm 'appy to sit an' wait for your days off, to greet you on your returns to London. An' all I want is to know that when you leave, you'll come back. So I'm not asking you to marry me, Mary. But I do 'ave a proposal for you, if you'll just turn around."
Mary frowns at this last sentence, but does as he asks. Her eyes widen in surprise and her gloved hand covers her mouth. The butterflies in her stomach match the butterflies that flit behind her, spelling out the words "Be My Love."
"Oh Bert!" she exclaims, tears springing to her eyes, for once unable to find the appropriate words. "Oh Bert!"
He shifts nervously again and pulls out a ring with a delicate chain threaded through it. "I don't… I… This is for you, Mary. Not for your finger, not yet. But I thought- that is- I would be honored if you'd wear it around your neck."
"Of course!" She turns away from him and glances back shyly. "Might I trouble you to help me with the clasp?"
His hands brush her neck as he fastens the chain and a shiver courses through her body. She closes her eyes, hoping to ward off the suddenly brazen thoughts that a practically perfect nanny should most definitely not be having about the man she's not married to. "I love you, Mary mine," he whispers in her ear, sending another tremor down her spine.
She collects herself and turns around. "Mary mine?" she asks, raising an eyebrow.
Now it's his turn to redden as he tries to stammer out an explanation of this new nickname. "Well, you are… you are mine, aren't you, Mary? Even if I'm not your 'usband, you-"
She silences him by taking his hand. "You have been more of a husband to me throughout the years than many of the husbands in the families I've stayed with. If I am anyone's, I'm yours. And forever this time. You've just made that incredibly clear. Thank you for waiting for me."
A blush creeps up the back of his neck. "It's easy for you, Mary."
She shakes her head, raising her hand to caress his cheek. "I think you just make it look so." Then she kisses him again, this time allowing herself to get swept up in the emotion. It amazes her just how deep it all runs, how deeply she cares for him, how badly she wants him. The world starts to go fuzzy around the edges.
Just as her hands start to move to the buttons of his shirt and his from their respectful place on her hips, he pulls away. Already she misses the contact. "Mary-" he croaks. "Not now. Not 'ere. Not like this."
She coughs. "Right, of course. I can't think of what got into me."
"I love you too much, Mary mine. We'd regret it later."
"Of course."
"I promised Uncle Albert I'd clean 'is chimney before nightfall," he says awkwardly.
She nods.
"An' the kids, they'll be needing me soon."
"Right." She exhales noisily and draws herself up. She takes his hand and transports them back to London. "Go ahead. I'll be along shortly."
He pecks her lips. "I love you, Mary mine."
"I love you too, Bert. Now, do go. Jane and Michael will be scared half to death by the time you find them."
She waits until he's gone on his way and then sits down shakily, afraid of what she had nearly done, had been quite willing to do, how badly she should regret it, and how certainly she doesn't.
She heaves a sigh. Well, it's of no matter, though she's still upset with him for having that power over her. The only things that matters right now are the children. She stands and strides off to finish the errands she needs to do while Bert is otherwise occupied.
0ooo0
The rest of her day is successful, though she's worried about the trouble the Banks children will have caused by the time she gets done with her errands. By mid-afternoon, she knows they've managed to mess things up rather spectacularly, but that's hardly surprising, given the two rascals talent for getting into trouble, but she knows that it's all necessary. By the time she reaches Cherry Tree Lane, some of the wounds will have already begun to heal.
She's surprised to find Bert alone in the house with the children, but then remembers that Winifred has an engagement at the prison. Mary nearly rolls her eyes; she thinks the Cause—Mrs. Banks always speaks of suffrage as if it has a capital letter at the beginning—is worthy and incredibly important. At the same time, it's driving Mrs. Banks to the point of distraction and Mary wishes she'd pay more attention to her children.
She shakes off the disapproval and enters the drawing room, almost rolling her eyes when she sees Bert and both of the Banks' children with their heads up the fireplace.
"Michael, be careful," she warns, "You never know what may happen around a fireplace."
And just like that, his brush pulls him up the chimney.
"Oh, bother," she sighs.
Bert turns around. "Well, that's a bit awkward, I must say!" he exclaims.
"Bert, I'll thank you to stop putting ideas in their heads!" she snaps, probably more due to her frustration with herself than because of anything he might have done. While they're not paying attention, Jane follows in her brother's wake up the chimney. "There goes the other one!" Mary exclaim exasperatedly.
"Should we go after them?"
She almost rolls her eyes but refrains. "Well, we can't have them gallivanting up there like kangaroos, can we?" she asks rhetorically.
She pushes past him and gathers Jane and Michael's coats. Then she turns around and tilts her head towards the fireplace. "Well, come on then! Spit spot!"
Do let me know if you have any suggestions, even for other stories!
Until next time,
-Juli-
