Author's Notes: This is my second time writing at the beginning of a chapter. It still feels awkward! But I wanted to say that this chapter is dedicated to a dear friend, known here as Elizabeth Lakecrest. I was going to dedicated the last chapter to her, but it came out so poorly that I rather felt I'd be insulting her if I did. But ah... yes. This is for you, darling.

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Curious children can only take so much mystery before they feel as though they might burst. There is no clear evidence indicating that any child has indeed burst from being surrounded by too much unknown, but Michael, for one, wasn't going to take his chances.

"Have you noticed she's always away on Thursdays, Jane?" he asked his sister, peering out the window suspiciously as Mary Poppins strode down the lane with a definite sense of purpose to her.

"Yes," said Jane, "every third Thursday. I've been counting. She leaves at two-ten and arrives home at four-fifty."

Michael looked around at her, astonished, but Jane was too busy folding a blanket neatly in her doll cradle to take notice of his surprise.

"Don't you wonder where she goes, too?" asked Michael.

Jane frowned and turned the blanket the other way, folding it longways one more time. "I've always wondered more about why she always leaves and returns precisely at the same time. But I suppose she is very precise, after all." The blanket just would not fit as Jane wished. She tilted her head to the side and frowned again.

"You don't ever wonder about where she gets off to? She's Mary Poppins, after all. It must be someplace really amazing. Doesn't it make you curious?"

Jane tried folding the corners under, and that seemed to work. She smiled and looked up. "Not really. Perhaps she goes out for tea."

"Out for tea?" Michael frowned. "But that's so ordinary."

Jane shrugged. "What else does a person go out to at two-ten, and return from at four-fifty?"

--

Michael practically ran down the garden path, fearing that he'd be caught and dragged back into the house at the last moment. Jane had promised to cover for him, but pronounced the adventure "silly" and refused to come along. All the better, thought Michael darkly, she'd only get in the way anyhow.

Luckily, when he turned off the lane, Mary Poppins was still in sight. He alternated between running to keep up with her, and strolling along nonchalantly when he worried that someone might find a running boy suspicious and escort him back home.

Whenever he could, Michael ducked behind trees and parked cars in case Mary were to glance back and catch him following. He knew she'd be positively furious to catch him at something so sneaky and rude.

Mary did not glance back, however, and though Michael could not tell for sure from such a distance, he was almost certain she was whistling as she made her way towards the park.

The park? Michael puzzled over it. What could she do there that would be so fascinating? But Mary Poppins stopped before she reached the park. She stooped down a little in the middle of the sidewalk and seemed to be staring down at the pavement. It was then that Michael realized that he'd been so focused on Mary Poppins that he hadn't noticed the other figure, down on his knees on the pavement.

This could only be Bert, hard at work on his chalk drawings.

"Yes!" said Michael delightedly. "This will be it. Mary Poppins will go into the chalk drawings again!"

Michael watched as Bert picked up his hat off the pavement and seemed to fish around in it for several moments. Then he withdrew his hand and smiled at Mary Poppins, who at once offered her arm. Instead of walking into the center of one of the drawings, however, the two simply strolled off down the sidewalk.

"So it wasn't the drawings after all," Michael said, but was not discouraged. "It must be some brand new adventure, and she's decided to take Bert along for company."

He followed them away from the park, still half-running and half-sneaking along, ducking behind things whenever he could.

Ultimately, the two stopped in front of a quaint-looking little shop that didn't seem of much consequence, but upon arriving there Mary and Bert looked at each other with almost childishly delighted faces, and made their way inside, with arms still linked. As they entered, Michael heard a tiny tinkling from a bell hung up in the doorframe.

Taking great care to hide himself behind a woman and her children out doing the shopping, Michael walked past the shop to take a look inside.

Mary Poppins and Bert were sitting down to a tea with sandwiches and biscuits and little jam cakes. When Michael had had his look, he circled back and to the other side of the road, then began to walk briskly with his face down and arms crossed back in the way he had come.

So it really had been just tea. What a disappointment. It didn't seem right of Mary Poppins to lead him out all this way for nothing, even if she didn't know she was doing it.

At that moment, a stray cat ran across Michael's path and scurried back behind him, rubbing her nose against the back of his leg before taking off in the other direction. Michael looked up for a moment and saw that the little orange-striped kitten was not a stray at all, for she wore a purple collar high on her neck, and hung from it was a heart-shaped tag and a little gold bell.

The kitten seemed to notice that she was being watched, because she stopped in her tracks and turned her head cautiously.

"What are you doing out here by yourself?" Michael asked her accusingly.

The cat narrowed her eyes as if to say, "I might ask the same question." Then she turned her head right back around and went on her way again.

Michael made a split-second decision. It was so quick that he didn't even realize he was thinking it, but Michael was not ready to go home yet. Mary Poppins hadn't had any adventure at all, so he resolved to have one of his own to make up for it. He pivoted swiftly on one foot and started off in the opposite direction, now following the kitten.

There were times when she stopped to check street signs—or so it seemed, as she glanced up at them—but for the most part the kitten seemed very purposeful in knowing where to turn and when to cross the street.

At first Michael felt very excited—his adrenaline rushed up to his ears the way it had when he first set out after Mary Poppins. But after a time he realized his new target's destination must be someplace very, very far away, because they had been walking for a good forty minutes now and she showed no sign of stopping, nor of even slowing down for that matter. Discouraged, Michael glanced around for a sign that might tell him where he was. He hadn't been paying much attention previously.

Seeing no helpful clues, he made up his mind to continue following the cat. Maybe she would eventually lead them back to where he started.

There was only one problem. When Michael looked back ahead, the cat had gone.

He ran forward to look around the corners, but she was nowhere in sight.

"Cat?" he called tentatively, but received no response.

Disappointed for the second time today, Michael crossed his arms once again and began heading back the opposite way, eyes on the ground before him. He was very lost now and he knew it, so what was the use of reminding himself by looking at the alien scenery?

Michael felt very angry at the cat and at Mary Poppins, but most of all at himself. He hadn't paid enough attention to where he was, and when he finally did wonder about his surroundings, it caused him to miss out on his adventure entirely. Now it was surely getting late in the afternoon, and he'd have no time to do anything at all fun. Besides, if he didn't find his way back on time, he'd be scolded.

"This could end up being the most disappointing day of my life," me mused miserably.

As he trudged blindly forward, Michael imagined that he was never able to find his way back home. He imagined that the cat would come and find him again, and they would roam the streets together forever. He would forget to speak English and only speak in cat-language, and all the people would call him the Wild Cat-Boy and be afraid of him.

His daydreams were interrupted when he bumped into something quite suddenly. He staggered back, and looked up into the face of Bert.

"Why, Michael!" Bert exclaimed, putting a hand on the child's shoulder to right him. "Wot're you doing out here—are the others with ya?" He looked around expectantly.

"N…No," Michael said slowly. "I'm by myself."

Bert looked a little taken aback. "Why?"

Michael lowered his eyes again. He'd seen a lot of the pavement and his own shoes today. "It's Mary Poppins's day off and… and well, I thought… I wanted to have an adventure." He couldn't admit that he'd followed the both of them. It was like spying, and seemed naughty. He felt sure that if he was found out that he'd be punished for that as well.

"Golly, I'd say ya must've had one!" Bert said, amused.

"Not really. Not the sort I wanted, anyhow."

"Welp, tomorrow's another day—never a bad day for an adventure, y'know."

Bert was so cheery that Michael looked up at him and could almost return the jovial smile he saw.

"I'll take ya back home, eh?"

Michael nodded, and the two set out on the last leg of the day's long journey.

"I'll be in trouble at home," Michael said, as much to make conversation as to get the sorry off his chest.

"Why's that?"

"I went out without permission. And I'm sure I'll be late getting home."

"I'll get you back in a jiffy—don't you worry," said Bert, "and you ought not to have too much trouble with Mary Poppins—she's in a good mood you see. Always is on 'er days off."

This seemed to ring true to Michael, but he was puzzled at the bashful way in which Bert said it, as if he were shyly admitting an achievement he was proud of.

"I don't know why just going out to tea puts her in a good mood," Michael said, but then started, embarrassed, as he realized he'd just confessed that he knew what they'd been up to.

Bert seemed not to notice, though, or at least not to care. He laughed lightly. "You might not just yet. Say, Michael… 'ave you ever met someone you fancied?"

"Fancied?" Michael wrinkled his nose. The question had a funny feel to it, like the smell of vinegar.

Bert nodded. "Sometimes a person can feel like somebody's taken a star out of the sky and put it right inside your chest for ya," he said. "'Ave you ever felt that way before?"

Michael shook his head quickly back and forth. "No. Why?" He frowned, but looked curious.

Bert folded his arms back behind him, placing his plams against the back of his head. He seemed to be contemplating what to say next.

Michael urged him on, one half of him wanting to abandon the topic and never speak of it again, the other half dying to know more. "You do, then? You have someone you… you fancy?"

Bert smiled. "You could say that." He gave a satisfied chuckle.

"Is it… Mary Poppins?" Michael continued.

"Yeah. Yes it is." He stopped walking, dropped his hands to his sides, and turned to face Michael, looking him directly in the eyes. "Our secret: one man to another, yeah?"

Michael's eyes widened, and he nodded solemnly. He knew he'd been entrusted with something big and important.

"Someday, Michael, when you've got a star in your heart—that's when you'll know why just going out to tea is an adventure."

--

When Michael arrived home, he was surprised that Jane was eager to know all that had happened. He refused flatly, saying she ought to have come herself if she wanted to know.

He was several minutes late, but was hardly scolded, and was not sent to bed without supper. Mary Poppins was in a good mood, indeed.

Michael rather wondered whether Bert had returned the favor and put a star into Mary Poppins's heart, too, because two Thursdays later he overheard her insisting to Mrs. Banks that she would really need to take every second Thursaday off from now on.

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Author's Notes: Another chapter complete. I tried to get it finished a little faster this time, because I owe it to all of you, and because my excitement for this story is growing. Every word I type gets me close to the ending I've already got written, waiting patiently in my hard-drive. Anyhow, what did you think? The purpose of this chapter was entirely for Bert and Michael to have their "Grown-Up Conversation," so for the rest I followed the book pretty closely(as far as Mary's whereabouts on her days off and whatnot, anyway). Maybe it was working with that foundation as a guide that made this chapter much stronger and more well-organized than the last. I hope I can continue to write as solidly or more so until the end. Please look forward to the next chapter, and take a moment to review if you get the chance! Thanks!