Disclaimer: I own none of the character that you originally saw in The Secret Garden. The only think I own are any new characters and the plot.

Mary Lennox smoothed out the non-existent wrinkles on her emerald-green dress for the hundredth time and cast an impatient glance out of the somewhat dusty window of the carriage. All she could see was moor. More and more moor. She was reminded of the time when she first arrived at Misselthwaite. How she had hated the moors. She was beginning to feel some of the same distaste for them; she didn't want to see anymore moor. She wanted to see Dickon, Colin, her uncle, Martha, heck; even the sight of Mrs. Metlock would bring a smile to her sixteen year old face.

It'd been two very long, tedious years since Mary had cast her dark brown eyes on her family and friends from Yorkshire. When Mary turned twelve, her uncle was finally persuaded by Mrs. Metlock to send her to a Lady Refining school, much to his niece's horror. Mary was literally dragged into the carriage that summer, tears running down her cheeks, her throat hoarse with screaming and crying, and she was quite sure she'd bruised Thomas, her uncle's second butler as he carried her into the carriage. Colin, too, was being restrained by his father; he was just as upset about this as Mary, perhaps even more. Dickon, on the other hand, controlled himself. He was heartbroken that Mary was leaving for an entire year, but it wasn't in his nature to throw a tantrum.

The next summer Mary came home. There wasn't much change in her except the occasional excess of manners, and her quick and skillful talents at the dinner table. Much to Dickon's delight, though, Mary was still his. He could still read her mind just as before. Around the adults she tried to act proper, but when it was just him and Colin, she was the usual snappy, light humored lass as before. At the request of Archibald Craven, Dickon was to receive schooling along side Colin. Dickon wasn't sure what to make of it at first, but over time, he found that he was rather partial to the written word. Colin, on the other hand, wanted nothing more than to be away from books and riding horses, or running around in the gardens.

The next two summers, Mary didn't come home. The first summer she missed was because she had fallen ill and was put in the hospital in London for three months. Mr. Craven and the boys came to visit her, but she wasn't herself, mostly sleeping or sniffling. The summer after that, the girls in Mary's year at the finishing school were treated to a trip to France, to practice their studies in the language.

Now, four years later and graduated from her refining school, sixteen year old Mary was a lady. A lady who was making a very unladylike growling noise from the back of the carriage. She was just starting to see a glimpse of Misselthwaite. How much longer!

-----

Dickon sat back down on the steps leading up to his new home. Once he'd turned sixteen, Mr. Craven requested that he take up residence in the estate. After all, Dickon was like a second son to the master of the house. Dickon's mother was reluctant, repeating that no common Yorkshire boy would fit in with the upbeat folks of Misselthwaite, but she finally decided to let her son loose. After all, Dickon was practically a man now. She was ecstatic that he was receiving a top notch education, even though she didn't think that it was absolutely necessary.

So, Dickon took up residence in the manor. He ate with the family, studied with the son, played billiards with the father, and slept in the guest beds. Yet, Dickon was still the free-spirited Yorkshire boy from the moors. When ever he wasn't being tutored, he was in the garden. In her garden. Dickon had promised his tear-faced Mary that he'd take care of the garden. He'd of taken care of it even if she hadn't made him promise. He loved that garden.

Colin, on the other hand, was too absorbed with his horses and fashion. He'd turned from a spoiled little invalid, to a spoiled little healthy heir. Without Mary's constant guidance, Colin had slowly drifted into the town's society and become very snobbish. Dickon wasn't one to intervene. Sure, Colin was one of his best friends, but Dickon knew only two people would successfully be able to stop Colin. Those two people were Mary, and Mr. Craven.

Dickon stood up again and paced back and forth.

"Settle thyself dear brother. Miss Mary 'ill be 'ere in good time," Martha said softly, and rested a hand on her brother's shoulder. Although Dickon's pacing was nothing to Colin's constant complaining and stomping around, Martha was well aware that her brother was quite anxious to see Mary.

At long last, a carriage was seen coming over the hill.

"It's her! It's her! Dickon, Martha, Father! It's Mary!" Colin cried, and started to run towards the carriage.

"Dear lord child! You're going to fall and break your neck with that running," Mrs. Metlock half-heartedly scolded him; she too was smiling at the sight of the carriage.

Dickon had stopped his pacing at stared at the carriage as it pulled in and stopped. Colin was already whipping open the door and pulling a gloved hand out.

"Mary! Good lord, hurry up! I want to give you a hug!" Colin cried, laughing.

Finally, a green shoe emerged from the carriage, followed by a very green dress, followed by... Dickon let out a small gasp. Mary!

-----

Mary held in her yelp of joy at seeing her cousin's head appear at the carriage door. My, how he'd grown! His face had certainly filled out, and there were traces of facial hair. His shoulders had gotten wider, and he was much heartier than she remembered. She let out a laugh as Colin complained about her slowness. Well, he hadn't changed much.

Mary emerged from the carriage, and was immediately swarmed by her uncle, Martha, and Mrs. Metlock. Mary heartedly greeted her family and friends, hugging them all, but her eyes were still searching. Where on earth was he!

"Miss Mary, he's just o'er there!" Martha whispered in her ear, and Mary turned to see Dickon standing a few paces back. Mary let out a gasp. Dickon! Mary had known that Dickon had taken up residence at Misslethwaite; she'd been exchanging letters with him, as well as Colin. Perhaps she just assumed that he'd still wear the same common clothes, still have dirt smeared on his cheek. No, this Dickon was finely polished. There was no dirt to be seen, his clothes spotless. He was wearing the attire of a first class man. He'd grown! He was at least six ft two, and my, what muscles. Mary's eyes examined her friend, and finally brought her gaze up to his face. He'd lost almost all of his baby fat, but his eyes were what Mary most wanted to see.

His sky blue gaze met her gaze just as strongly, and they searched each other's eyes. Mary let out a sigh. He was still the same. She could still see the bit of Magic in his eyes. The magic that held his undying love for his creatures, the magic that made anything grow that he touched, and the magic that she had come to love about him.

"Dickon!" she exclaimed, and rushed over to him, giving him a big hug.

"Miss Mary. I thought tha'd never be back wi' us," Dickon replied, giving her a hug back, and then pulling her away, taking her hands. "It's been mighty dull workin' in our garden wi'out thyself helpin'" he said, laughter in his voice.

Mary looked down at his hands. Even though the rest of him was spotless, his hands were still stained with dirt. This made her smile.

Oh, the garden! I hope you and Colin have taken good care of it!" Mary exclaimed.

"Oh, of course we did Mary! Dickon and I were out there everyday, to be sure. You can expect to see not one weed in the entire garden!" Colin announced, taking his cousin's hands away from Dickon's and wrapping her arm through his elbow. "Come now, let us go inside. I'm anxious to hear first hand about your trip home."

Mary smiled at her cousin, and looked over to Dickon. His face was smiling, but his eyes weren't. "I think, perhaps, that I'll go up to my rooms first. I'm tired from my trip. Don't worry Colin; you'll hear my story countless times now that I'm home. Martha," Mary said, turning from her cousin to her friend and maid, "Let us go and unpack my things."

"Right away Miss Mary. I'll be likin' to see all o' the new dresses tha mun got whilst tha were away!" Martha exclaimed, and led Mary into the house.

Colin looked more than a little upset. "Why on earth would she want to rest now? She just came home! She's said barely two words to me! How dare she," he whined.

"Come now son. She's just come all the way from London. Give her a chance to catch her breath. You'll leave her alone until she's ready to come down. Why don't you and Dickon go for a ride?" Mr. Craven said, looking exasperated with his son.

"Oh all right. Come Dickon. We can have a race. I feel as if today is the day that I'll outride you," Colin boasted.

"Perhaps tis the day. There's a bit o' magic in the air. Or, perhaps it's cause Miss Mary 'as returned to us. No, I think I'll take a walk in the gardens instead," Dickon said slowly, ready to hear Colin's complaint.

"A walk? Why take a walk when you can ride? You've sensed it. You've sensed the magic in the air. Don't chicken out there Dickon," Colin complained loudly.

"Aye, I've sensed it. We can ride later, we can. We'll 'ave Miss Mary join us. Then, she can see tha beat me in a race," Dickon said smiling. He knew Colin wouldn't turn this down. He loved to show off.

"Capital. Capital idea! Yes, I think I'll go for a ride now anyways; get myself stretched. You go run along to your gardens now Dickon," Colin said, turning away and walking towards the stable.

Smiling to himself, Dickon began to walk to the garden.