Disclaimer or whatever you call it: okay then, well you know that all characters and main storyline belong to Frances Hodgson Burnett.
This story takes place sometime between when Mary meets Colin and before she tells Colin she had actually been in the garden… and of course before he is in the garden itself.
Mary looked up from her work, "Dickon, do think we should bring Colin here? I have been thinking about that and was wondering if we should. It could help him." Dickon stopped pulling out weeds as well. "Tha's got a point."
Mary looked down at the little sprout that had risen from the ground just a few days ago. Dickon said it would grow to be a tulip, but Mary hoped it would be a rose. "Dickon," Mary started, "I-I'm not sure we could trust him. He can be so selfish and stupid sometimes. Other times he acts just like a normal boy, except for when he talks about dying." Dickon thought for a moment and looked at Mary, "He could be trusted Miss Mary. It seems to me tha' he 'asn't 'ad a secret before, he'd surly want to keep it."
Mary smiled at Dickon for his thoughtful response. Dickon smiled back and went back to his work. Mary looked up at the sky as the robin flew by onto a nearby branch and the fox trotted by. A light drizzle started, Dickon and Mary found refuge under a willow tree. They sat for a while lost in their own thoughts. "Mary," Dickon began but never finished. As Mary looked over to Dickon, he lent down and kissed her. Mary, surprised didn't do anything. After a moment, Dickon pulled away and stared in the other direction.
Mary was bewildered. She didn't move for a long while. Finally she said, "You just kissed me." Dickon turned to her. "I do believe I did." "I've never been kissed before." Mary said looking into Dickon's eyes. "Never?" Dickon asked. "Never." She answered as she lent in and kissed him back.