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“Is that you, Bert? I’ll be up in a moment.”
They had a signal. She didn’t like to admit it to herself, but that was really all it could be called. She was Mary Poppins, for Heaven’s sake, Practically Perfect in every way, but… they’d been doing this dance for a rather long time. In her more uncharitable moments, the moments she had to hide from the children, she likened it to training a dog to react to its name. Even now, traitorous butterflies were taking flight in her stomach. The children would probably find that funny.
Wrapping her coat around her, Mary took one last look at the children before making her way quietly to the fireplace. They were probably deep enough asleep to step out without waking them, but while they could sleep through a thousand explosions, the tiniest noise would be all it took to rouse them. She stepped into the fireplace and closed her eyes against the sudden rush. It wasn’t until she stood, blinking in the bright moonlight, that she realised she left the usual armour of hat and umbrella inside.
Suddenly and unusually self-conscious, the sight of Bert’s quiet smile made Mary’s cheeks flush red. “I do remember telling you that it was far too risky to keep meeting like this,” she admonished.
“You still came anyway,” he smirked, holding out a hand to help her step down.
Mary raised a suspicious eyebrow but didn’t reply. She sat down on a small step, wrapping her coat around her. There was a chill beginning to seep into the world. There would probably be snow soon and that would put an end to these rooftop meetings. She tried not to feel any disappointment at that.
Bert sat down on the roof itself, legs dangling over the edge, looking up at the dark sky. “Nice night for it.”
“That depends on what you mean by ‘it’,” she said, sharply.
“I don’t think it means anything in particular, Mary Poppins.” She shivered. The way he said her name sounded like a caress.
Damn.
No matter how many times she told herself that to continue… meeting like this would just end in more pain for both of them, she couldn’t stop herself. She would just have to leave again and she didn’t know how much longer she could take the expression on his face when she did. Bert knew why she went away and came back so often, children in other parts of the globe that needed help just as much as those in London, but… It wasn’t always a comfort. They both knew that.
Mary was pulled from her thoughts by a soft tugging on the hem of her skirt. She looked down and saw Bert was absentmindedly straightening the bottom from where it had gotten hooked on her boot. He gave her an innocent smile when he looked up, but she saw the smirk hiding at the corner of his mouth.
She brushed an imaginary wrinkle out of her skirt. “I do believe you’re trying to take advantage of the situation, Bert. Are you going to make a lie out of everything I tell the children?” she said, making one last attempt to stop… this before it began.
He swung his legs back onto the roof and rising to his knees in front of her. Bert gave her an exaggerated hurt look and pressed his hand to his chest. “That is hurtful, Mary. Although, there are no children here.” He put his hands on the step she was sitting on, either side of her hips – close but not quite touching – and leaned closer. “I’m a gentleman.”
Mary sighed minutely and felt the last of her hard-fought willpower drain away. Of course, this would end the way it always did. They both enjoyed it far too much. The pain would be dealt with later. She looked into his eyes, now only inches away and saw the affection he never hid very well there; well, maybe it wouldn’t hurt too much.
Mary pushed him back and stood up swiftly, seeing the flash of disappointment cross Bert’s face before she walked behind him, sitting daintily down on the edge of the roof. He looked slightly confused for a moment, finding himself staring empty space where there had been a beautiful woman before. He hurriedly turned back around and took up his former position on the roof ledge. Mary was sure he deliberately pressed against her side.
She favoured him with a soft smile, before turning back to look over the city. It was always better to keep everyone else off balance, she felt. They sat in companionable silence for a while, watching the city sleep. Even at this late hour, there were still pockets of wakefulness; coaches winding through lanes and dinner parties reluctantly ending.
“Now will you admit it’s a nice evening?” Bert asked, mouth close to her ear.
“Perfectly lovely,” Mary replied, shivering slightly, as the breeze jostled the leaves on the trees in the park.
“Come here, you’re cold,” he told her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and taking a hold of one hand, sneakily caressing her fingers.
She caught his eyes and raised an eyebrow. “Do stop being so dramatic, Bert.”
He grinned at her. “Can’t blame me for trying,” he said, hand slipping down to her hip and jerked her even closer. Before she could protest, he pressed his mouth against hers and kissed her in a way gentlemen didn’t. It didn’t last more than a few seconds, but time froze all the same.
They pulled apart slowly, both feeling dizzy. Mary regained her senses first and scowled at him. Admittedly, it was rather half-hearted, but all the same… She looked down and noticed her hand was resting rather high on Bert’s leg. She lifted it quickly and smacked him lightly on the shoulder, which was something well brought up ladies did not do. “That was a dirty trick, Bert!”
He fell back onto the roof, laughing. She gave him another cross look but there was still only the same amount of effort as before. “But I do like the look on your face, Mary.”
“You like it all the time,” she said, under her breath and fighting the blush again. She rearranged her coat around her legs.
Bert sat back up, face serious. “That is true,” he whispered into her ear again. He moved back to a respectful distance. “Your hair is a bit of a mess.” His fingers brushed a few loose strands back as he spoke.
Mary met his gaze steadily. “I could go back inside and fix it, if you like,” she retorted, a note of sarcasm in her voice.
“No!” he said, quickly. She bit back a smile as he cleared his throat and tried again. “No, you might decide not to come back out.”
Mary let the smile out finally, turning back to the city spread before them and folded her hands in her lap.
Bert hesitated for a moment before reaching over and taking her hand in his again. There was silence once more, save for the leaves rustling and the occasional owl.
So distracted by the image before her, she didn’t notice that he’d slowly and carefully removed her glove until she felt skin on skin. His fingers slid over hers, sending a tingle up her arm. “You’re being awfully forward tonight,” she pointed out, voice wavering slightly. He usually preferred talking her into things. It took so much more effort.
“I just know what I want, is all,” Bert said simply. Giving her hand a squeeze, he put it down on his leg and reached for the other. “You do look just a bit ridiculous with one glove on.”
“Well, that was hardly my fault,” Mary said. He folded both together and slipped them into his jacket pocket. She reached out to straighten his shirt collar, out of habit, when his fingers caught hers. He brought the palm of her hand to his lips, kissing delicately before doing the same to the inside of her wrist. “I would like to hear the reason you give for this action, though,” Mary whispered.
Bert smiled wistfully. “Just checking your heart is still beating,” and he leaned over and kissed her neck, just below her ear. She laughed breathily and without any decorum, melted against him. Not many people were able to make her forget everything she was. Well, one person…
With one quick nip of teeth against her throat, he pulled back and concentrated on Mary’s waist, wrapping his arms around her. One quick straining of the muscles and Bert lifted her onto his lap. She let out a strangled gasp, surprised at the sudden movement, but not so much the show of strength. He had had many jobs that relied on physical strength over the years. “If you let me fall, Bert,” she warned, looking over her shoulder.
His grip tightened minutely as she carefully shifted her position, trying to unhook skirt and jacket and keep them from twisting and tangling. After a few moments, she sat facing him, knees on either side of his legs, straddling. “See, nothing to worry about,” he said, hands sneaking down her back.
Mary raised an eyebrow and looked down pointedly. “Hardly a very ladylike position.”
“I won’t tell anyone,” Bert replied, a growl threaded through his words. No further words were possible as their mouths came together again, as if drawn by magnets. She was only just able to admit it to herself, but these were the moments she treasured the most, especially during the times they were separated by miles of country. She felt that, whatever this was that they were doing, it was past even permanence. It was time to stop pretending that either of them could end it for good. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and they both sank further into the kiss.
A moment later, there was a bang below them; a window shutter swinging into the wall beside it. “That’s not yours, put it back!” a child’s voice called out through the night.
Above on the roof, there was a muffled curse from one or the other of them, and Bert, thinking far quicker at the moment, managed to swing them both around onto the roof proper. It would not do to have small faces catch sight of their position on the roof. Mary scowled down into the darkness, debating whether to leave the warmth of their embrace or not. The children knew they should be in bed, after all, and they had been asleep.
“It’s not your telescope, Michael!” the shrill voice came again.
“So? I’m just borrowing it!” another voice replied.
Mary’s scowl deepened at Bert’s snort of laughter. “You are not making this any easier for yourself,” she warned him.
He gave her a winning smile as another cry of “Put it back!” floated up to them. “Allow me,” he said, leaning down and clicking his fingers once, decisively.
“I… I feel tired,” they heard below them.
“Me too…” came the reply, followed shortly by a faint thud of the window closing once more.
Mary sighed, head dropping into hand. “You are not allowed to do that.”
“Well, it’s done now!” Bert replied, chirpily. He nonchalantly dragged his coat off, throwing it casually on the tiles next to them.
She pretended not to notice that the action was rather more carefully planned than casual. “Never the less, you’ll be punished for it later.”
Without warning, he flipped them over, pushing her softly onto the area of tile coincidentally covered by his coat and stroked her cheek. “You could punish me now, I suppose,” he said, lips moving closer again.
“You do talk such nonsense,” she breathed, eyes fluttering shut as their lips met once more. To be quite honest, they were both going to be in some trouble later. They were both not exactly playing by the rules. But, as his hand slid up her calf to her knee, fingers seeking out any bare skin they could find, Mary couldn’t quite bring herself to care.
Besides, she’d given it her shot at ending this… arrangement. It hadn’t worked; therefore, they should stick with what did. Which was, apparently, shaking loose the roof tiles every now and then and spending her evening off together.
While one hand was still stroking skin just above her knee, Bert’s other hand was playing with her hair once more. He did so like seeing her dishevelled. Though, privately, she did feel that he tried to make her as untidy as possible to prevent her from rushing off quickly afterwards. He could be equally as tricky as she could.
Dragging his mouth from hers and down her neck, he carefully grazed the skin there with his teeth. Her thoughts skidded sideways and she forgot herself for a moment, crying out into the night. She felt laughter vibrate against her neck.
“Must you be so difficult?” Mary breathed.
“Well, I do like to make the most of it,” Bert told her, starting to work on the buttons of her blouse.
Preferring that he didn’t keep the upper hand for long, she pulled his shirt from his waistband and ran her fingers up his back. The chill of her fingertips made him jump slightly; the feel of her bite on his earlobe forestalled any comments he could make.
Bert pulled back and sat up slightly, taking in newly exposed skin and cloth. Mary didn’t say anything, but merely raised an eyebrow.
“Practical as ever,” he smirked, tracing the pattern of her corset up and to the bare skin beyond the edge of the boning and chemise. “I suppose black ribbon goes with everything?”
She dropped her hands away from his back. “Mostly. I do think you’re deliberately drawing this out, however.”
He grinned. “Of course, I am.” He gripped a knee in each hand and yanked her hips closer to his, her backside resting on his thighs.
Mary let out an involuntary laugh and tried to shoot him a stern look. “Bert…” she warned, half-heartedly.
“Oh, come on,” he cajoled, his touch skittering across her collarbone. He leaned down and whispered, “Not every day you get Mary Poppins dishevelled and under dressed, lying under you. As much as I’d like it to be.”
She felt her treacherous cheeks heat up. Reaching out quickly, she pulled him to her by his belt. “That’s no way to talk to a lady.”
“This lady, it is.” Bert kissed her again and after that, there were no more words. He was momentarily distracted from his progress down her body by the feel of her carefully unbuttoning and unzipping his pants.
Events progressed rather quickly following that – under garments were pushed aside and soft words were muttered into the air, glittering for a moment between them, the purpose to prevent any unexpected consequences. The position out in the open on the rooftop, with a not entirely unreasonable expectation that others were also out and about, added an element of urgency – getting caught like this would not be ideal, to say the least.
Her fingers tightened around his belt loops again, trying to pull him closer as one of her legs snaked further up his side. One of his hands slipped between them, just grazing across her skin to gauge the readiness and an involuntary shiver went down her body, briefly breaking their kiss. Forehead to forehead, they shared harsh breaths for a few moments until he finally ended the torment and eased slowly into her. Her head fell back against the roof as she fought down the urge to cry out again, not wanting to draw any attention; his rested against her throat, warm breath tickling her skin and raising goosebumps as they held still for a moment.
The strap of her chemise slipped down slightly, and Bert nipped along the bare skin, brushing the collar of her opened blouse aside. Mary tensed the leg hooked around his hip and breathed in his ear, “Please.”
He groaned softly but did finally start to move, thrusting into her, building a steady rhythm. Her arms came up around his neck and they kissed again, both trying to get as close as possible. He braced himself on one elbow, as his free hand slid back along the leg wrapped around him, under the layers of fabric to grip the soft skin of her thigh.
With the stars above, the breeze still rustling the trees in the park, and what felt like thousands of sparks flowing through her body, she would have given everything to just stay in this moment forever – no duties, no cares, just overwhelming emotion. Her traitorous body had other plans, and after a few more moments, she fell, supernovas bursting behind her eyes, the cry being swallowed in their kiss. Mary pulled away to gasp a breath and he buried his soft grunt in her neck as he followed her over the edge
They lay still, just trying to regain the energy to move. Her fingers curled into his dark hair, not wanting to give up the closeness just yet. Bert eventually moved, propping himself up on his elbows to smile down at her, brushing a loose tendril of hair from her forehead. “Perfect.”
Mary rolled her eyes, cursing the smile that she couldn’t quite keep off her face, still feeling incredibly warm and flushed. “More nonsense.”
“Hardly,” he replied, kissing her briefly again, before gingerly pulling away from her, not wanting to continue squashing her beneath him. She felt strangely disappointed when they parted, the chill air hitting exposed skin and making her shiver. Bert helped her sit up, producing a soft cloth from a pocket to clean them both up, which caused a very different shiver to run through her.
She pulled him back against her by his partially unbuttoned shirt and they kissed for another few moments, him settling on his knees between her legs as their tongues slid against each other. Reluctantly, they parted again and he pulled her to her feet, so they could straighten up their clothes. She swayed slightly on shaky legs, bracing herself on a chimney while he rebuttoned her blouse and straightened her jacket, before wrapping his arms around her waist. She returned the favour by buttoning his shirt back up, as well, then leaning further into the embrace, with her head on his shoulder.
“Don’t suppose I could convince you to come home with me for the night?” Bert asked against her hair.
“You already know the answer to that,” she answered.
He sighed softly. “A man can dream, can’t he?”
Mary leaned back to look at him. “I should hope so, or my next night off will be rather boring.”
He laughed. “That’s true enough.”
The quiet of the night was broken with the sound of the back door opening below them and Robertson Ay’s voice calling out, “But what should I tell anyone else about where you’ve gone, Mrs Brill?!”
“Never you mind! I won’t be long,” the older woman replied, irritation clear in her voice.
Bert and Mary shared an amused look and quietly walked over to the other side of the roof to look down into the garden. “But it’s late!” Robertson Ay fretted.
They saw Mrs Brill just wave her hand and disappear around the corner. The door shut softly a moment later and quiet descended again.
“I should head back inside,” Mary said, regretfully. “Can’t have two of us missing.”
“Ah, but you’re technically still on the premises,” Bert told her, picking up his jacket from where he’d laid it down and shaking the dust off. He retrieved the gloves he’d taken from her and handed them back to her.
She put her gloves into her own pocket and fussed a little with her skirt, ignoring the hair she could feel had come loose from where it had been carefully pinned up. She knew just how dishevelled she really looked but could barely bring herself to care. He was still looking at her like she was the most important thing in the universe.
Bert put his jacket back on and then took her hand. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”
She smiled, leaning in to kiss his cheek. “Of course.” Mary stepped back up onto the chimney, Bert keeping a hold of her hand to ensure she didn’t slip.
“See you then, Mary Poppins,” he said, as she disappeared in an instant. Wishing they could have stolen a few more minutes, he headed home across the rooftops, whistling as he went.
***
Mary took her time in getting cleaned up and ready for bed, not having been especially tired when she came back inside and wanting to distract herself from the melancholy wish to be elsewhere than where her duty was. She winced, coming across a particularly troublesome knot in her hair as she brushed. Next time, she would have some words with Bert about the mess he made of her hair. Although… the last time she had tried that, he’d ended up on his back instead and had looked quite pleased about the turn of events, so it was clearly not much of a punishment.
She shook her head, ignoring both the smirk her reflection gave her and the blush she could feel warming her cheeks. Mary tightened the tie of her robe, picking up her things, intending to go straight to bed – however, as she opened the bathroom door, she ran straight into Mrs Brill.
“Oh, you gave me such a fright!” the older woman exclaimed, pressing her hand to her chest, over-dramatically.
“Ah, Mrs Brill. Did you have a nice evening?” Mary asked, trying to pull her usual steel persona on – a difficult task while standing in her nightdress and robe.
“Yes… why?” Mrs Brill asked, suspicion threaded through her tone.
Mary smiled serenely. “No reason in particular.”
Mrs Brill’s eyes narrowed. “Sure, there isn’t. Well, I’ll be heading off to bed now, myself.” The two women edged past each other in the doorway, and just as Mary thought she could finally escape back to the nursery, she caught a smirk on Mrs Brill’s face. “You might want to be careful with that nightgown for the next couple of nights, it’s a bit revealing right about the neck with that… bruise there.”
Mary froze, looking in the mirror over Mrs Brill’s shoulder, seeing the mark on her collarbone (with her reflection laughing at her and cheerfully pointing it out, which was just rude, honestly) and she couldn’t stop her hand from coming up to cover it. “Thank you, Mrs Brill, I’ll keep that in mind.” She took a deep breath and turned back to the other woman. Something about Mrs Brill’s own appearance caught her attention. “In that case, I should also just let you know – your shirt is misbuttoned.”
It was Mrs Brill’s turn to freeze, her cheeks turning a bright red. “Ahem, yes, well. Good night, Mary Poppins.”
Both women held the other’s gaze for a moment, a silent understanding of a truce passing between them. “Good night, Mrs Brill,” Mary told her, finally turning to head back to her bed. “Say hello to the constable for me.”
There was a clatter in the bathroom, as if a brush had been dropped to the floor. Mrs Brill cracked the door open slightly, directing a glare at the younger woman’s back. “Oh, I will. You should ask that nice chimney sweep around this week. The chimney could do with some work on it,” she called after her.
Mary paused, looking back over her shoulder for a moment, sharing one last look with Mrs Brill, before they both turned away and went about their business separately.
She resolved not to tell any of this to Bert – he’d never let her hear the end of it.