A/N: The inspiration for this short tale is the final scene of the musical, when, just before her departure, Mary gives Bert a chaste kiss on the cheek. In the show, however, he lets her go without anything being said between them; though it's rather obvious in Gavin Lee's expression that there are a few things he'd like to get off his chest. So it got me thinking about what could have happened had Bert said something in the end; if he had taken that other road. I hope you like it. :)

- ACH

Disclaimer: Again, I own nothing. Absolutely nothing. *sigh*

The Road Not Taken

1910 London

The stars shone brightly in the London night; they illuminated the earth below, providing Bert with the light by which he worked. He stood at the entrance to the park, a small canvas posted to the fence, painting a colourful bouquet of flowers. Mary would be leaving today; she hadn't told him yet, but then again, she didn't have to tell him. He could feel it in the wind, and he could feel it in his very bones. He also knew that she would be coming to find him; she never left without saying goodbye. He would miss her incredibly. Seldom did his thoughts turn away from her. Life was always brighter and more hopeful whenever she was around; and just being in her presence seemed to make all of his fears and troubles melt away. He hurriedly finished his painting, and, as soon as he completed the last stroke, he saw her making her way toward him on the sidewalk, her black laced boots clacking against the pavement. She practically glowed in the dim light of the night, as if she had gathered into herself the sparkle and fire from the stars.

Her eyes were unfocused and she was deep in thought as she approached him, her green parrot-headed umbrella clutched firmly in her left hand. Bert silently placed his brush on the ground beside the fence and put his hands in his pockets waiting for her to close the remaining distance between them. She smiled at him and he returned it with a grin of his own. He suddenly remembered his painting and he reached into it, drawing out a full bouquet of lovely, brightly-coloured flowers.

"For you," he said.

She smiled warmly and took them when he handed them to her. Their aroma drifted over the air around them, and her smile slowly disappeared. Bert braced himself for what he knew she was about to say. Though she was standing about two feet away from him, he could still see the faint beginnings of melancholy creep into her clear blue eyes.

"It's time, Bert," she said softly. "I'm leaving."

"I know," he said quietly, and paused. "Another job well done, Mary."

"Thank you, Bert," she said with a sad smile. A silence fell between them as they stared at one another, eyes afire with some strange, foreign emotion.

"Look after yourself," she said gently.

She looked down for a brief moment and then met his eyes once more. She gave him a long, pensive look, eyebrows furrowed in thought, as if trying to decide what to do. Making up her mind, she approached him and placed her right hand, flowers still in her grasp, on his left arm and leaned her face toward his, placing her lips gently against his cheek in a farewell kiss. He was stunned, and he didn't bother trying to hide it; she had never done that before. He looked back at her and they gazed deeply into one another's eyes. She then looked away, and began to turn around to make her way back to the Banks' house for the last time.

Time slowed as a war raged within him between his mind and his heart, and though it only took moments, it felt like an eternity. His mind told him to act as he always had. Let her go, it said. She will come back, as she always has. She said it herself: forbearance is the hallmark of your creed. Good things come to those who wait. He listened dutifully to his practical mind, but his heart; his heart! It had been awakened by her sweet kiss and it shouted in joy and rapture and tried to drown out the sensible words of his mind. Go to her! It cried. Show her how you feel! Every woman wants to know she is loved… don't make her stay, but make her know that you are willing to wait. Tell her you love her!

Bert's mind reeled at that thought. I love her. I love her! It had never considered what exactly the feelings were that radiated from his heart whenever he looked upon or thought of her. His mind had not comprehended that his feelings for her ran deeper than those of close friendship, but now it understood. Love washed over him and he knew he couldn't let her leave again without telling her. Time regained its normal speed and the words left his mouth before his mind could begin to block them.

"Mary, wait."

The soft-spoken words hung in the air and she paused for a moment, one foot in front of the other. She glanced back swiftly toward Bert and turned completely when she saw the look on his face. She took the few steps back to him and gazed into his eyes, and, for a brief second, he thought he saw them flicker with that same strange emotion, but it was quickly hidden behind her mask of composure once more. He opened his mouth tentatively trying to settle on what to say, finally deciding to take a massive chance and exercise boldness over delicacy.

"When was the last time you were decently kissed?" he asked quietly, still gazing into her eyes. "I mean, truly, truly good an' kissed?"

Her eyes grew wide and her mouth dropped open in shock. Of all the things he could have said, she had not been expecting that.

"What? I—I don't…" she faltered. "Bert, what kind of a question is that?" she asked, her perplexity, and her blush, building. It was rare that Mary Poppins was at a loss for words, and even rarer still for her to be thrown so far off balance.

"An honest one," he replied. He searched her confused gaze for a response, but she gave nothing away. She looked down at her feet, in embarrassment or insecurity, Bert did not know, and she could not meet his eyes.

"I… I've never been kissed," she whispered, so quietly he almost thought she had said nothing at all. "And certainly not in the way you are suggesting."

"I'm sorry," he said.

"For what?" she asked softly, lifting her head slowly to look into his eyes.

"For pressing my advantage."

"Bert, you've done nothing of the sor—"

He interrupted her when his lips pressed against hers in a passionate, loving kiss. Her clenched hands came undone at once; the flowers and her umbrella had fallen to the ground and she placed her now free hands on his chest. A fiery heat began deep within her and spread rapidly to every corner of her body, sending her heart spinning out of control and making each and every fiber of her being aware of the new sensations Bert created with his lips on hers. She wrapped her arms around his neck and deepened the kiss, pressing against him until one could barely discern where he ended and she began. They broke apart, both gasping for breath, and each took the other's hands in their own. Her blue eyes sparkled and locked with his warm brown eyes.

"That was…" her voice trailed away as she searched for the perfect word, "… magical."

He understood completely and caressed her gloved hand with his thumb, never taking his eyes from hers. Her face broke into a sad smile and she reached one hand to his cheek.

"I will miss you dearly."

"I will wait for you, Mary. I will always be here for you." He briefly looked down and took a deep breath, and shifted his gaze up to meet her eyes again. "I love you."

"I know," she smiled. "I love you, too, Bert. I always have."

They stood in one another's arms for a few moments, content to simply feel the other's presence around them. They knew it would not last, however, and it was Bert who let go first.

"Now, go on. There're some troubled kids out there who need you. I'll get along fine without you; just…" he sighed, "remember there's someone here who needs you, too."

"I will never forget," she said softly. She paused slightly before speaking again, a hint of uncertain hope in her voice. "Tuesday after next?"

"I'll be here," he said without hesitation.

"And I will find you," she smiled. "Until then, my love."

She leaned up and gave him a quick kiss on the lips. He bent over and picked up the flowers he'd given her and her umbrella from the ground. She took them and her mouth was pulled into a lovely smile.

"Goodbye, Mary Poppins. Have a safe journey," he said with a small grin.

She looked back to him, happiness gleaming in her eyes, and nodded. They exchanged a knowing glance and a smile, then she turned and left for the Banks' and he returned to his own home, both feeling elated at their newfound love, and neither too heartbroken at the temporary loss of the other. They knew their bond would carry them through even the toughest of separations. She was taking a piece of him away with her, just as surely as she was leaving a piece of herself behind. In the months to come, they would safeguard those parts of the other, and cling to them in the dark solitude of night, and, when they came together once more, rejoice in the comforting haven of true love's kiss.

A/N: So that's it, hahaha. I hope you enjoyed it! I have a few more ideas up my sleeve, but I'm not sure if they'll be finished or not... we'll have to wait and see.

Anyway, The MP people do a lot of comparing Mary to Athena, the Greek goddess of Wisdom, so I decided to play on that a bit. Athena Parthenos was so named because she was one of the three virgin goddesses, thus, that's my reasoning behind Mary's complete lack of romantic experience.

Acknowledgments: First to P.L. Travers, since I borrowed a few of her lines from MP Opens the Door. Also to the writers of the movie That Thing You Do, for creating a line that was just too perfect to pass up. Third, to the semicolon for being an amazing piece of punctuation; and, finally, to Robert Frost for giving his lovely 1916 poem a truly fantastic title, and not haunting me from beyond the grave for using it.

Have a happy and healthy New Year! I'll be looking for you in the Crack. :P Hahaha!

- ACH