Work Text:
Bert was a magical Jack-of-all-Trades, and he was in love with Mary Poppins, which was a little like being in love with the wind. It was like being in love with the sun. You never got tired of the sun coming up in the morning, turning the dark of the night sky into pearly white, gilded at the edges. You never got tired of the sun crossing the sky, changing the silhouette and slant of shadows on the earth. You never got tired of the way it set again at the end of the day, the sky lighting up, purple, rose-red, fiery gold, before dipping over the edge of the world. You never got tired of the wind moving through the leaves of the trees, cool, and gentle, and lovely as wind chimes. But you couldn’t catch the sun in your hands, or the wind, and you couldn’t catch Mary Poppins. All you could do was dance and laugh with her, as she danced and laughed in her own little way, with that twinkle in her eye, and her lip quirked gently, just so.
After Mary Poppins sailed away once more over the city, past the clouds, finished with her work with the Banks family, Bert didn’t wait for her. It would be like waiting for the sun, or the wind, which was silly, wouldn’t ya think? And he had plenty to do, and plenty to get done. He had music to play in the park, and constables to annoy. He had chalk drawings to affix to all the park walkways. He had chimneys to sweep, while the stars scattered above. He had so much to do and so little time to do it, and really, it wouldn’t be no time at all, before he was turning around, and spying that distinctive shadow across the ground, the same elegant figure escorting another troubled gaggle of children, and he was crying out again, joyfully, that familiar name.