Oh look, another piece of pointless fluff from yours truly. This probably takes place some time before the movie.

The alternate title of this story is The Wondrous Effect of the Red Scarf (which about four people will get, but it makes me laugh).

Oh, and this one is for Kelly. Happy Birthday! Even though this is late...

I own nothing.

"Hello, Bert!" Mary calls cheerfully, smiling as the screever comes into view.

He looks up. "'ello, Mary," he greets her, tipping his hat.

Mary frowns. There's something different about him today. Oh, sure, he's wearing a red scarf because of the fairly strong wind, but it's more than that. It comes to her—there's not his customary smile on his face. There's no sparkle in his eyes. "Bert, is something the matter?" she asks.

"No, nothin' at all," he denies, but Mary can tell he's lying.

"Herbert Alfred, if you think that after all these years of friendship, you can just lie to me and I won't notice, you are sorely mistaken!" she snaps.

"It's nothin', Mary. Don't worry about it."

She sends him a look that tells him in no uncertain terms to choose a different answer.

He sighs and stands up, wiping his hands on a cloth. "Fine, there may be somethin'," he admits.

"And what is that?"

He flushes and rubs the back of his neck. "'S just… there's this… there's this girl… woman, really," he confesses, refusing to meet her eyes.

Mary stomach drops, but she works hard to keep her face neutral. She's known that one day, he'd inevitably fall in love with someone and she's been trying to prepare herself, but judging by the knot working itself up in her stomach, she's failed. "Oh?"

"Yeah," he shrugs.

"What's she…" she clears her throat, trying to keep any jealousy out of her voice. "What is she like?"

"She's just… I've never met anybody like 'er. Not ever. Everything about 'er is perfect. She walks in an' th' 'ole world just lights up."

"She sounds lovely," Mary says quietly.

"She is," Bert agrees.

"Does she know how you feel?"

"I'm pretty sure she doesn't an' I don't think I could ever tell 'er. Not directly."

"Why not?" Mary asks.

"Mary, what on earth would somebody like that want with somebody like me?"

"Herbert Alfred," she snaps, fury in her eyes. "I don't want to hear you say anything like that ever again. Any woman would be lucky to have you."

He scuffs the ground with his shoe.

"Bert," Mary chides. "This isn't like you at all."

"I don't know," he sighs.

Mary bites her lip and makes a decision. Bert is her best friend first and foremost. As such, she has to do whatever it takes to make him happy, even if it's unpleasant for her. "You should tell her, Bert," she instructs. "It isn't healthy to keep it bottled up inside."

"Oh, no… I never… I couldn't," he stammers.

"Practice on me," she says impulsively.

"What?"

"Practice what you'll say to her. It might give you a bit more confidence. It certainly couldn't hurt."

"No, Mary, I couldn't-"

"Bert," she says, a warning in her eyes and tone.

"Alright," he sighs, giving in.

They move to sit on a nearby bench. Bert sighs and hesitantly reaches for her hand. I cannot believe I am about to do this, Mary thinks. Sitting here like some lovesick…child while he goes on about some woman I've never met!

"Mary, I-" he starts nervously, but she cuts him off.

"It's probably best if you don't think of me as Mary," she points out quietly. "It'll shatter the illusion."

"Right then," he says, swallowing anxiously. "It's just… I love you. An' I know you could never feel th' same way about me, but it's the truth. I've loved you from the moment I first saw you an' every time I see you, I just fall more in love with you. An' I know I don't 'ave a chance in the world with you, but I just thought… I thought… well, I thought maybe if you knew 'ow I felt, maybe you wouldn't be so very quick t' leave all the time. Because the thing is that no matter 'ow much it hurts every time you leave or even knowing that you'll never love me back, I never want t' be without you. I'm more than 'appy to just stay your friend, and nothing could ever change that, but I just thought you 'ad a right t' know. Because I do. I love you with everything I've got and then some. An' th' only thing I've ever wanted an' the only thing I'll ever want is t' know that you're 'appy."

Mary bites back a tear at his speech. Knowing that he'll never feel that way about her has filled her with a terrible sort of sadness. "There," she smiles brokenly. "That wasn't so hard now, was it?"

"No!" he exclaims, sounding quite surprised by the fact. "It really wasn't."

"I'm happy for you, Bert," she tells him sadly. "Really. Now all you have to do is tell her."

He clears his throat nervously. "That's the thing, Mary," he says, her hand still in his. He looks up and smiles nervously. "I, well, uh… I just did."

Her eyes spring wide open and her heart starts beating a mile a minute. "I… I beg your pardon?"

"Mary, I meant everything I just said. You walk into a room an' my 'ole world lights up. An' I know you 'ave your duties an' I know I'm just me, but I love you. An' I always will."

"Just you?" Mary repeats incredulously. "Bert, you could knock the spots off anyone on your bad days! I'm not entirely sure you even have bad days."

"Mary-" he tries to say, but she talks over him

"No, it's my turn to speak now. You've had your opportunity," she chastises him.

He throws out his hand, palm up, in the universal "after you" symbol.

Suddenly her mouth gets very dry and she swallows, trying to find the best way to say what she needs to. "Bert, I… the way I feel about you…"

"Go on an' say it, Mary. I didn't go in t' this thinking you'd return my feelings. I know you don't. In fact, forget… forget I said anythin' at all. Let's just… we'll get some lunch."

She isn't sure exactly what he thinks her reaction will be, but she's fairly certain that he wasn't expecting her to swing her umbrella at his head. "'ey!" he exclaims, ducking out of the way. "Watch it, Mary!"

"How dare you!" she cries, her voice quivering with rage. "How dare you presume to tell me how I feel about you? You clearly don't know the first thing about me or you would have noticed that I feel the exact same way as you do! But you're too busy assuming you know everything about my heart to notice what has been in front of you for years!"

"What?" he asks dumbly.

She shakes her head. "Don't. I can forgive you for a great many things, but this isn't one of them." She turns on her heel and tries to walk away.

"Wait, Mary. Just… just wait a minute," he begs. She purses her lips and turns back around, her arms crossed defensively. "Just give me a second."

She taps her foot impatiently. "I'm waiting."

"You- you really feel that way about me?" he asks. "You're not just sayin' it t' be nice or something like that."

"Bert, you've muddled my thinking since the day we met," she admits.

A slow grin begins to form on his face. "Well, then, what are we fighting about?"

"We're fighting because you have the gall to presume that you know what's best for me!"

"An' what's best for you, Mary Poppins?"

She looks down shyly. "You."

Apparently, that's the last straw. One large stride closes the gap between them and he takes her face in his hands as she kisses her thoroughly, trying to shove all the emotion of the past several years into one single kiss.

She flushes bright red as they pull away. "What?" Bert asks teasingly.

"It's just… that was… it was my first kiss," she admits, staring at the ground.

He looks surprised. "Oh?" he questions, a smirk playing on his face as she looks absolutely mortified.

"I've just never had the time!" she defends herself. "Or the inclination."

He tilts her chin up so he can catch her eye. "Well, Miss Mary Poppins," he grins. "It's my honor t' bestow upon you your second kiss… An' your third… an' your fourth…"

"Bert?" she murmurs between kisses.

"Yes?"

"Do stop counting." And with that, Mary Poppins presses her lips to his and takes her fifth kiss.

I hope you liked it!

-Juli-