L'estate

1920 Scarborough, Yorkshire

It was an abnormally beautiful summer day in Scarborough; a soft breeze was rustling the green trees, the sun was shining brightly, and there was not a cloud in the deep blue sky. Not to say Scarborough summers were anything but beautiful; however, this day was exceptionally so. Colours seemed more vivid and the sun shone with a strength unusual even to July at the beach. Bert smiled to himself. His lovely companion always had a knack for making things more beautiful, and this day was no exception. Mary Poppins and Bert had decided to spend her Day Out away from the hustle and bustle of the London streets and to spend it instead relaxing at Scarborough Beach on the shores of the North Sea. Getting there hadn't been a problem; Mary had taken care of that. They left the city behind in the blink of an eye and were met by and by with the salty scent of the ocean. The couple walked along the coast for a short time, enjoying the feel of sand between their toes, and before long they found a rather secluded spot on the beach. Mary had made quick work of setting it up for a leisurely afternoon for two; a few snaps of her fingers was all it took and soon they were seated on a blanket beneath a large, colourful umbrella.

She was leaning back casually against Bert's chest, one of his arms draped around her shoulders. He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye and silently appraised her appearance. She was wearing a canary yellow summer dress. It was sleeveless and had a V neckline; the fabric clung to her hips and flared out around her calves, and, as usual, she looked positively radiant. Bert knew that once they returned to the city, she would also return to being prim and proper once more, so he drank in this rare image of her. Mary sensed his gaze upon her and turned her head so she could look into his eyes.

"It's good to know you haven't changed a bit since we first met, Bert," she smiled.

"Oh?"

"You couldn't keep your eyes off me then, either," she clarified with a laugh. His cheerful laughter mixed with hers and he placed a light kiss on her forehead.

"I remember that day," he said as a blush crept across his face. "I must've looked like an idiot." Mary laughed and placed a hand against his cheek.

"Not at all. In fact, you were quite adorable; all shy and nervous."

"Well, a man doesn't meet someone like you every day, Mary," he said lovingly, taking her hand from his face and holding it in his free one. "I couldn't believe my eyes when you reached into my chalk picture." He paused and gazed tenderly into her eyes. "I kept it," he said. "That rose you gave me."

"You did? For fifteen years?" Her eyes sparkled with happiness in the afternoon sun.

"I have it with me always," he said. "Right here, in my sketchbook." He retrieved it from the small bag he had brought and flipped to a page near the front. On it was a beautiful drawing of Mary sitting upon a park bench reading, and a lovely pressed rose. Though not as vibrant as it once was, it still retained its deep red colour and its faint aroma filled the air around them. "Frankly I'm surprised it's lasted this long. Though, that's mostly due to you, right?"

She blushed ever so slightly and smiled. She brushed the petals gently with her thumb and index finger and they came alive at her touch. It looked as if fifteen years hadn't passed at all, and the rose had just been cut from the bush. Its former beauty restored, Bert positioned it delicately behind Mary's ear.

"Perfect," he said. Mary's smile grew wider and her eyes wandered to the sea. His brow furrowed in memory, and he spoke. "Mary, may I ask you something?"

"Yes, of course," she replied.

"When we met, you said that you'd seen me before, though I hadn't seen you."

"Oh…" Her voiced trailed away and she blushed in embarrassment. Bert smiled teasingly.

"So, did you watch me, Mary?" Her eyes grew wide and her mouth dropped defensively.

"Certainly not!" Bert looked at her with an incredulous smile and she lowered her head in defeat. "Alright, yes, I did. Sometimes I would see you on the rooftops with your sweep friends when I was returning to London for a new job or when leaving a post, and I would sit on a chimney and watch."

"How come I never saw you?"

"I can be seen by whomever I choose, Bert." She caught his gaze and gave him a quiet look. "Watching you… there was something different about you. Your presence held a certain spark I'd never felt before. You intrigued me." She smiled. "I think my soul may have recognised yours, though I could not yet feel it in my mind."

"So what was it that drew me to you? Was it my… charm? My dashing looks? My utter masculinity?" He laughed and directed his brown gaze to her serious blue one.

"No," she said quietly. "It was your heart."

His lips were on hers in an instant and they held one another in a tight embrace. She melted into his soft caress and marveled at how lucky she was that she had him by her side. They broke the kiss on a sigh, and she gazed again into his affectionate brown eyes.

"I think I loved you from the moment I set my eyes on you," she whispered.

He smiled playfully. "Would it be redundant if I said the same thing?"

She stared at him dangerously and he returned her look. They soon broke into peals of laughter and hugged one another close. Bert abruptly rose from the blanket, took her hand and hoisted her up to her feet.

"What are we doing?" she asked him with a smile.

"Going to play in the ocean," he said, a twinkle alight in his eye.

With one arm around her waist, he led her to the shoreline and they allowed their toes to be submerged in the cool surf. Bert wandered a little ways away into the sea till the water was up over his ankles and turned to face her. He had a mischievous glint in his eye, and Mary braced herself for the onslaught of water she sensed was forthcoming. She was correct in her thinking, and Bert swiped the sea with his hand and sent a spray of water at Mary. She retaliated and splashed him, and soon they were both laughing loudly and completely soaked from their water war. Bert sent a rather large splash at her, and she dodged it agilely, holding out the palm of her hand releasing a wave of energy that completely knocked him over and into the ocean. He sat in the water laughing with a stunned look as her joyful laughter joined his, and she walked over to help him up. She extended her hand for him to take, and when he did, he pulled her down with him and she fell into the sea, both in hysterics. She sat in his lap while the waves rolled around them, her damp hair falling out of its customary bun. He reached behind her head and gently took her hair down, letting it fall about her shoulders, taking the rose from behind her ear and holding it safely in his hand. He took a moment to gaze at her adoringly.

"You know, I don't think I've ever seen you with your hair down before," he said. "You look beautiful. Mind, of course, you always look beautiful, but this is different." She blushed profusely and gave him a quick kiss.

"Thank you, Bert. You look… very wet." He laughed cheerfully at this. "And, as always, very handsome."

"Why, thank you, Mary," he smiled and looked briefly up at the sky. "It's probably about teatime now, wouldn't you say so?"

"That I would," she replied happily.

"Well, if you want tea, you'll have to get off of me. Sorry, love," he said with a laugh. "Unless, of course, you don't want to," he grinned suggestively. She swiftly rose from the water and turned to face him with a mock scandalised look as he pushed himself up from the surf.

"Keep your naughty thoughts in check, Bert. We'll not be making fools of ourselves."

"Is it really that naughty if you're thinking the same thing? And besides," he said with a smirk, "there's nobody else here."

"And how, exactly, would you know what I'm thinking?"

"It's written all over your face. One doesn't need your unfair advantage to surmise people's thoughts," he smiled cheekily.

"I don't surmise, I know. And I never said I was fair," she said with a sly grin.

"Yes, yes, I know. I've heard this speech before. You're practically perfect," Bert said, his voice dripping with lighthearted sarcasm.

"In every way," she smiled and placed her hands on her hips so that her elbows formed perfect right angles.

"In every way? Well, that's debatable."

She turned her eyes to him with an offended look, but she couldn't contain her smile for long. It spread across her face and she kissed him lightly on the cheek.

"I love you, Bert."

"I love me, too."

Mary shook her head, small droplets of water flying from strands of her hair. "You're completely hopeless," she laughed.

"Well then, it's a good thing I have you to keep me grounded."

"Indeed it is," she smiled. She boldly moved closer to him, leaning her head in toward his. "And it's a good thing I have you to keep me soaring," she whispered against his lips.

"Who's the naughty one now, eh?" he said, pulling his lips tantalisingly away from hers.

She looked deep into his eyes and placed her bare hands against his cheeks, sending a surge of power through him, making him aware of the potency of her desires. "Bert, please don't force me to wait much longer. My patience is running thin."

At that he could deny her no more. He pressed his lips against hers passionately and they basked in the warmth of their love. Her arms snaked around his neck and his wrapped around her waist, never once breaking the kiss. Her eyes opened as his mouth left hers and he trailed hot kisses along her neck and down across her chest. She sighed in pleasure and placed a hand beneath his jaw, drawing his face to hers so she could kiss him again. If Bert hadn't been holding her, Mary was certain that she would have fallen back into the sea, her legs having been turned to jelly from the intense sensations that were afire in her heart. They kissed till their lungs were near collapsing from lack of air, and after pulling their lips apart she leaned against him, both trying to catch their breath. Bert placed a gentle kiss on her temple and she smiled into his shoulder.

"I love you, Mary," he said.

"I love you, too, Bert," she softly replied.

They remained in one another's arms for quite some time, content to listen to each other's heartbeats and deep breaths, and the peaceful sound of the waves crashing against them and the shore. They watched as a particularly large wave folded on itself and rolled over the sand, erasing the footprints they had left behind. They walked hand in hand out of the water and back to the beach, where a proper tea was waiting for them beneath the umbrella. Bert suddenly realised that his loose navy blue pants had dried, as had his white cotton shirt, along with Mary's yellow dress. He shook his head with a smile. She was always on top of everything, it seemed.

They took their former positions on the blanket, her now dry, shining hair still cascading down her back and over her shoulders in waves. Bert returned the rose to its spot in his sketchbook as she poured out for the both of them. Mary handed a cup to him, which he accepted appreciatively. There were, of course, her favourite raspberry-jam-cakes, and they each took one to start. They sipped their tea in comfortable silence, both sneaking glimpses at the other over their cups. Their eyes met and they savoured the connection, and Bert winked at her. She winked back, and they laughed heartily, taking another cake and making small talk.

"So, who are your charges now, Mary? I haven't seen you around in the park lately."

"They are the Wells girls. I'm sure you've seen them before. The oldest is Maria and a couple years younger is Eliza. They are… energetic children, to say the least," she said with a laugh.

"But not a problem, I'm sure. No child is too difficult for the beautiful," he placed a kiss on her cheek, "all-knowing," another on her other cheek, "and magical Mary Poppins," he finished with a soft kiss on her forehead. She smiled at him and took a sip of her tea.

"They're good children at heart," she said. "But they have some polishing up to do."

"Of course they do. Otherwise you wouldn't be there," he smiled.

"You are quite right," she said and bit delightfully into a cake.

Bert set down his tea and picked up his sketchbook, flipping through its pages looking at the pictures he'd drawn over the years. It was filled with drawings of Mary on their adventures and some of the many ideas he'd had for chalk paintings for the times when he was a screever. He kept this particular sketchbook with him always, yes, but for another reason in addition to what he told Mary earlier. Furtively making sure she wasn't looking, he turned to the very last page and memories came rushing back to him. On the page he'd drawn a spectacular diamond ring, and he had planned to present it to Mary when the time was right. He'd been saving up for a real engagement ring for a long while, and when he'd had enough money, he'd gone to the jewelers to pick out the perfect one. However, none seemed to hold the spark he was searching for, and it was then that the idea came to him. She always brought the best out of his art, and so he immediately returned home and drew the most brilliant ring for her that he could imagine, hoping that she'd be able to do as she often did and take it from the page.

His proposal had been all but forgotten, however. He knew her work was exceptionally important to her and he had no desire to force her to abandon it, nevertheless, despite that knowledge, he felt himself selfishly wanting more. He thought she'd understood when he confessed to her that October night five years ago that he could never be truly happy stealing moments with her; a day here, a few hours there. He wanted to create a new life for himself; a life that included her by his side, in a place they could call their own, and, should they so choose, with children of their own to care for and love together.

He glanced at her again and he momentarily stopped breathing. The late afternoon sunlight was shining at such an ideal angle that it caught in her eyes, and they looked as if there were thousands of tiny prisms within them reflecting the beams. Her skin practically glowed in the sun, and her long, dark hair shone with a radiance unlike he'd ever seen. At that moment, he'd have sworn that she was an immaculate goddess, untouchable by mere mortals such as him. But he had touched her, in ways that no other man ever had. He'd felt her bare skin against his hands and he'd tasted her sweet lips, and he knew that she was just as vulnerable and sensitive and in need of tender love and care as every other human on this earth. He made his decision right then; there was no better time than the present. He was going to propose to her here and now.

Bert silently flipped back to the page at the end of the book and wrote beneath the ring in elegant, flowing script the words "marry me." As quietly and neatly as he could, he tore out the page and hid it beside him. He took the last raspberry-jam-cake, for good luck, as they said, and watched her while she gazed with a small smile out to the West where the sun was beginning to sink below the horizon. He was so nervous that his breathing was coming in short gasps, and his heart was pounding so hard within his chest, he was sure she could hear it. Drawing in hand, he stood and took a few steps out away from the umbrella to collect himself. She sensed his palpable discomfort, and she turned to look at him with concerned eyes and joined him on the beach.

"Bert, are you ill?" she asked when she saw the state he was in, reaching the back of her hand to his cheek. He took a deep, calming breath and, his composure somewhat regained, he took her hand in his and gazed into her profound blue eyes.

"No, I'm fine," he assured her. "I never really considered how I would ask you this… I always imagined it would come to me when the right moment arrived."

"Bert, what are you talking about?" she said, her voice wavering slightly in hidden anticipation. He took another steadying breath and got down on one knee. She took a step backward and covered her mouth with her hands, tears forming at the corners of her eyes. He held out the picture he'd drawn of the ring to her.

"Mary Poppins, will you marry me?" he asked, his voice hopeful and light. By this point, joyous tears were streaming down her cheeks.

"Bert, I thought you'd never ask," she cried.

He practically jumped up, his face beaming ecstatically and his own blissful tears trailing down his cheeks. He handed the page to her, and she looked upon it through her tears admiringly. She did as he'd hoped she would and took the ring straight off the paper and held it in her hand.

"Oh, Bert, it's gorgeous!"

"It's even more beautiful than I imagined," he said truthfully. It sparkled fiercely in the bright orange of twilight, and he slipped the silver band delicately onto her finger. They cried happily in one another's arms, and he wiped away her tears with his thumbs. Her smile grew and he captured it with his lips, kissing her with a fervor that spoke of undying love and dreams for the future. She returned his kiss with as much zeal and wound her arms around his neck as his enclosed her waist and pulled her close. His eyes were shut tight, so he did not notice when the beach began disappearing around them, and the paths and neatly trimmed gardens of the park took its place. They separated from their kiss and Bert opened his eyes and saw that they were in London, his small bag on the ground beside them. He was back in his green and yellow checked shirt, brown patch vest and pants. She had returned to her long purple coat, the same one she had been wearing on the day he first saw her, and blue skirt; her hair had also returned to its usual bun, and her black hat with the daisies rested atop her head. Her eyes glimmered in the fading light of dusk, and she placed her still bare hands on his chest and kissed him again.

"I love you, Herbert Alfred. With all of my being," she whispered.

"And I love you, Mary Poppins," he kissed her tenderly on the cheek. "More than you will ever know."

"I think I may already know," she smiled mysteriously. He laughed and took her hand in his.

"Will I see you tomorrow?" he asked, stroking her hand with his thumb.

"Yes. I will make sure of it," she replied. Their eyes shone brilliantly in the now pale orange light and they kissed one last time for the evening. She glanced down at the ring glinting on her finger, its weight new, but not unwanted. An enormous, heart-stopping smile spread across her face and she looked at Bert. "Tomorrow, then," she nodded.

"Tomorrow," he echoed. "Goodnight, Mary."

"Goodnight, Bert," she whispered adoringly.

She turned on her heel and strode out of the park to the East back to the Wells home where she would get back to work, molding children and changing lives. However, it was her own life that was about to take the greatest turn, and she was all the happier because of it.

Bert watched her leave, slung his bag over his shoulder, and elatedly turned toward the West to walk back to his humble home in the heart of London. He had never felt as completely overflowing with joy as he did now. He truly felt as though he could fly, and he never knew; with her, he very well could. He whistled a lively tune as he walked, looking on as the sun set on his old life. His thoughts turned to the future and he anticipated the morning, when his new life with Mary Poppins would begin with the radiant light of dawn.

A/N: Thank you for reading! I hope you liked it. That's all from me for now. :)

I wanted the end to sort of resemble the beginning, since this end really is a new beginning. Also, earlier, I wanted to show a little bit of Mary's badass side, like what you see in the Miss Andrew segments in the books and musical, and it was also a little reminiscent of that bit in Step In Time in the movie when she puts out her palm and the sweeps all go into backflips... so, yeah. Plus, it gave her an opportunity to fall on top of him, and I couldn't pass that up. :P

In the winter chapter, props to anyone who knew that Zima and Talvi mean "winter" in Polish and Finnish, respectively. Bwahaha, I'm such a nerd.

Anyway, thanks again for reading. This was a great experience and I can't wait to write more!

- ACH