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bearsinpotatosacks · 3 months

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The Practically Perfect and Those Trying Too Hard - A Mary Poppins Fic

Bert's fallen ill in the cold winter months, Mary's there to take care of him.

Words: 3057

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Enough people had walked on the pavements that the snow had melted around them, only clumps of it sat on the roads and in piles in people’s gardens. Despite it only being early afternoon, nighttime was around them. The stars couldn’t peak through the thick layer of smog that was slowly encasing them the closer they got to Bert’s lodgings. She knew he wouldn’t say it but she could see in the way he held his head that he was embarrassed.

The houses got more shambled, the roads fuller, more crowded and dirty. Her clothes began to stand out among the crowds of people swaying from pub to pub. Children, half covered in dirt, were looking at her clothes in awe. They didn’t have any shoes on.

As the wind blew in again, it made her cheeks go a natural rosy red, her nose tinted pink as she nestled her face into her scarf a little more. She looked over at Bert, deep in conversation about something that happened to someone that his friend knew from someone else, or another topic equally as complicated, and realised his face had gone past red to pale as he walked along. Even with a few more layers, two shirts, a worn wool waistcoat and the same faded jacket he’d worn for years. His neckerchief was wrapped around his neck to provide a meager bit of warmth but it was nothing like the scarf or shawl she was shroud in.

“Are you sure you don’t want my shawl, Bert?” She said, interrupting him. “Don’t be proud now.”

He smiled, the same wide grin he always did but with teeth chattering. “Really, Mary, I’m fine, keep it for yerself.”

He stopped for a second and made sure it was securely tightened around her. Even through her leather gloves she could feel how icy his hands were.

“You’re practically a snowman, Bert, please.”

He shook his head, still smiling at her. “Mary, believe me, I’ll be alright.”

The last words came out in a cough as he slid a little on the wet pathway. Her hands steddied him as let out a chuckle. She removed one glove and placed her hand on his forehead, shining under the light of a streetlamp, she had to remove it quickly from the fever that was burning.

“Bert, your temperature’s through the roof, we need to get you inside in the warm.”

His hands gripped her’s back. There was a flash of something, concern, in his smile when she said that.

“But the sooner I go home, the sooner you’ll have to go!”

Sometimes she could see the hopeful child she’d met all those years ago. The one that didn’t want to leave but had to.

“And where will I be going? If you’re so certain that this place is in need of me.”

“Well, it’s gotta be yer day off, so you’ll be going soon.”

“How do you know this?”

He didn’t have an answer for that.

“I’ll have you know that I am under no one’s employment at the current time, so my time is my own to spend,” she crossed her arms.

He tucked his hands under his armpits as he smiled to himself. “Well, I am honoured that you’d spend it with me, but I swear to you-”

“Don’t swear to things Bert-”

“That I will be perfectly alright.”

She huffed. “Then why do you look sicker than a dog?”

“I do not.”

“You most definitely do.”

He let out another cough and took a deep breath in. “I do not.” He said, then raised his hand. “And I am definitely not seeing two of you.”

Alarms went off inside of her as he began to sway. He wasn’t that much taller than her but having someone collapsing on you would be hard to handle, no matter the size.

“And if I was, which I am not, that would be wonderful, because the only thing more wonderful than one Mary Poppins-”

He swayed more, like a tree in the wind. His eyes began to close as his legs gave way.

“Is two.”

His legs buckled as he fell forward onto her. It was lucky that she wasn’t frail, although she looked it, so she was able to carry him toward the dark and dreary building that his lodgings were in. They were far from the grand abodes she worked in, in fact, it was barely holding together with the mismatched bricks and rotten wood. Although, it was a roof over his head at least, which was a difference from where he’d been staying a few years ago, which was a bench in Hyde Park.

Yet, the fact that he was living in run down tennements, with stairs that could barely hold one person, let alone one person carrying another was not a promising idea. Well, it wouldn’t be for most people, but most people were not Mary Poppins. So if she used a little bit of magic to help them get there, Bert was a lot lighter this way, then it was no one’s business.

— — — —

A comforting glow was behind his eyelids as he came to. As he opened his eyes, a wave of warmth flooded through him. No longer was he on the cold streets of London, he was in his own home. But this felt different than usual.

Firstly, the fire was lit. It wasn’t that it was unlit most of the time, only that if he wasn’t cooking, he didn’t tend to light it. Sometimes being a jack of all trades didn’t pay the best. If people didn’t have the cash, the first cut was the one man band on the street. He’d found himself in the world of ashes and smoke a lot more recently, fires were being lit more during the harsh days of winter and where there were fireplaces, there were chimney sweeps.

Usually he sat by the embers for a while before wrapping himself in all the layers he owned to fall asleep. He got up before the sunrise, like rooster ready to crow, and made his way to work watching the sun scater colours all over the sky as the knocker-uppers woke up the office workers from their deep sleep.

The second thing he noticed was that he was in different clothes than before. His old ones, made cold from the snow, were drying on the backs of chairs in front of the fire, even his hat and neckerchief. It made him wonder how he’d changed clothes to begin with.

The third thing he noticed was that one Mary Poppins was sitting at his dining table, a shabby thing that wobbled when you put weight on it, with a darning needle in one hand and his sock in the other. A lot of his socks were laid out neatly on the table, as well as a shirt or two.

“I’m glad you’re awake,” she said quietly, not looking up from the hole she was mending. “You’re clothes are in a dreadful state, Bert, I wish you’d told me before as these are just not acceptable to withstand the life you lead.”

His head began to thud as he tried to sit up. The low light of the room was catching his eye in the wrong way and despite knowing that it was frosty outside, he was still hotter than the roaring fire he was lying near.

“How-” he broke into a cough. “How long was I out?”

“About an hour or two, you don’t have a clock in here,”

“Never needed one, if the sun’s up, I’m late,” he smiled.

She gave him one of those ‘i’m trying not to smile but can’t help myself’ kind of smiles. The ones she gave him a lot when she was in the company of her charges. It wasn’t that she put on a front of being professional, but you couldn’t act like a woman being courted when you were looking after young children. He respected that.

As he woke up more, whatever cold he’d caught took more of a hold. He hadn’t felt it this bad all day, sure he’d had to use his handkerchief more, Mary couldn’t stand sniffing, and the chill had gotten to him more than it usually did, but he hadn’t felt so bad he’d collapsed before.

“You were frozen to the bone when I got you in here, so were your lodgings,” she said. “And there’s a dreadful draft in here, I don’t know how you can stand it, Bert.”

He just shrugged. He had to deal with it, it was all he could afford. Sleeping on the streets was something he was trying to avoid. That had been a rather bleak period in between the time when she’d come back into his life and her next visit. He’d been late on the rent too many times and was ousted onto the streets. It was only Mary that got him out.

“The only way I could get you warm was in the bath, and I did not feel like carrying water up from that pump outside, so I had to use other measures.”

He knew what she was on about. She’d never directly address her magic if she could afford it. It wasn’t shame, more modesty. Not that that was what he was focusing on. What his mind was occupied by, rather, was the fact that Mary Poppins had seen him naked.

He looked down at his changed clothes. “You mean, you-”

Pointing at her, he heard her chuckle.

“I’m a nanny, Bert, it isn’t anything I haven’t seen before.” She said matter-of-factly but he saw the way her face flushed a rather rosy shade of red.

“Yeah, but there’s a difference between bathing a child and a grown man,”

“Are you sure, there didn’t seem much of a difference to me.”

“Hey!” He said covering himself up more.

“I’m only messing with you, Bert, and besides, if I hadn’t you would’ve frozen.”

He left the matter there and watched her get up. She was still a becon of warmth and respectability in his dingy surroundings. Kneeling down, she put the back of her hand to his forehead and tutted.

“We need to get your temperature down, or I might have to call a doctor.”

He shook his head. “No doctor, Mary, can’t afford one.”

“Nonsense, I will not have you getting in any worse condition than you let yourself get into, now help me get you into bed.”

He swung his legs off the bed and felt them weaken as he went to stand up. Breathing was a little harder than it should’ve been as they made their way to the small room to the side of the main one with the lumpy bed in it.

“Bed? But I’ve just woken up.”

“There are a few pillars of getting people better, they are warmth, nutritious food, and a decent amount of rest.”

He sunk his head as she lowered him down into the bed. “Well I may be lacking in those departments, Mary, if you couldn’t already tell.” He said, gesturing to the condition of the walls and the mould growing in the corners.

“I did.” She stood up as he got settled. “Why didn’t you tell me you were living like this?”

The way she looked at him made him feel like a naughty child. He didn’t like the way it made his stomach drop. The only thing he wanted was for her to be happy when she was with him, he got the feeling he was failing.

“What can you do? This is all I can make do with on what I earn, and I like what I do, so this is it.”

She sat down on the bed and stroked his shoulder. “But to let yourself get this ill?”

“I can’ do much more, Mary, if I don’ work, I don’ earn.”

She gave him that look again.

“Fine, I’ll rest tonight but tomorrow, well-”

“Well, what?” She spoke with a little more force. “What’s so important, who is so important that it’s worth your health, Bert?”

“I’m sweeping for some highly respectable people tomorrow, Mar, the Lord Mayor, and a few of them politicians you hear about in the papers, I can’ let them down.”

She shook her head, “Surely such respectable people would understand you taking a day for your health?”

“You’d be surprised, besides, I’ll make do, I always have.”

“You shouldn’t have to, and if you do, you might find yourself in hospital.”

“That’s worse than the doctor, Mary, if I can’t afford a doctor-.”

“Well, what’s worse, a few days lost wages or a week or two spent in a hospital you can’t apparently afford.”

He sighed and settled down in his bed. She began to move about the room, looking for more blankets. He watched her leave, closing the door softly, then heard her go about the main room, putting out the fire and coming back with her darning.

“Do you have any more blankets?” She said, peering around the room.

“Maybe some under the bed?” The words left his mouth before he could realise what he’d said. As she knelt down to look, he darted up to reach out to her. “Wait-”

He was too late and settled back into the bed. His face was flushing red. This wasn’t going well.

Mary had pulled backward and was covering her face with her hand. “Oh my, Bert.”

She gently reached underneath, pulling a spare rolled up blanket out with one hand and guiding a pile of papers all covered with bright colours depicting her. Pastel, paint, charcoal, anything and everything. The London skyline with her silhouette pictured high above it. Her face laughing, slightly covered in soot.

“These are excellent,” Her voice was breathy as she took them in. “I'll have to sit for you one day.”

He gave her a lopsided grin. “It would be my pleasure.”

She placed the portraits underneath the bed again and unfolded the blanket in one smooth motion. It landed perfectly over him, even tucked itself in.

“I'll check on you in the morning,” she said, her hands folded over her stomach. “If you need anything in the night I'll just be through here.”

He sat up a bit in bed. “You ain't staying?”

“Well, I'll only be in the other room,”

“It would make me feel real better if you stayed, what if I'm too ill to get you?”

She thought about it for a moment then smiled. Just that smile made him feel better, like sunshine shooting in his body.

“Oh, alright, then.”

She turned back to him and slowly sat at the end of the bed. She lent over and undid her shoes, placing them to one side. Next, she moved back to the other room to grab her bag, which she placed on the end of the bed, after which she undid her shirtwaist and folded it neatly, dropping it in the bag. He turned his head as she took off her skirt but part of him wanted to take a peak at her in her undergarments.

No. That was a breach of privacy, Bert was nothing if not a gentleman.

“Bert, let’s not kid ourselves into believing that we are the types of people who can’t see each other in their undergarments,”

He gulped, still not looking. “Well, they do say curiosity killed the cat.”

“And satisfaction brought it back.” She tilted her head toward him.

“Sa’isfaction, ey?”

“One thing I always like to say is that the only person in control of one’s feelings, is oneself. So if satisfaction is what you feel, Bert, then let yourself be satisfied.” she smirked, something that Mary Poppins rarely did around most people, but Bert knew he wasn’t most people. “Besides, I did bathe you earlier, so believe we are on equal ground.”

“If you say so,”

He watched as she undid the next few layers, frilly ones with lace near her neck, he didn’t know what they were called, he was partially surprised by how many there were that made up her image compared to his undershirt and drawers that he wore under his shirt. Yet, when she clicked her fingers, he knew that she was undoing her corset. He could tell by the way it shaped her body, how the layers below relaxed as the weaves came undone and placed it carefully in the bag.

With her arm still in the bag, she pulled out a satin night gown with lace on the top. It wasn’t too showy, just enough for a proper nanny without making her be out of fashion. She turned her back and undid the final layer, pulling it off before pulling on her night gown quick enough that she didn’t give him any chance to see any bare skin before she undid her pinned up hair, letting it fall down her back, shiny and neat.

“One last thing before we go to bed,” she lent back into the bag and pulled out a green bottle of medicine. “Someone as dreadfully sick such as yourself must take their medicine.”

He nodded. “Of course.”

She lent over and handed him a spoon, doling the medicine out onto the spoon. It was bright orange and tasted the same sharp, sweetness of the fruit.

“Good, now lie down, you’re going to need plenty of rest over the next few days.”

He widened his eyes. “Days? I can’ not work for days, Mary.”

She slid herself between him and the bed. With one hand, she gently pushed him so he was lying on her lap, her hands stroking his hair.

“If you work in your current state, you will end up in hospital, Bert.”

“But I’ve got clients, Mar, the Lord Mayor himself-”

“Will be perfectly understanding tomorrow, I think you’ll find.”

He smiled up at her, the low oil lamp making a halo around her head. “And they’ll just know, will they?”

“They’ll find out, yes, of course,”

“Well, I feel better already.”

She shook her head, “That’s all well and good but you’re not well enough yet, get some sleep.”

He closed his eyes. The light dimming behind them as he began to drift off.

“Anything for you Mary Poppins.”

So, yeah, Mary Poppins, huh? It's just as much a shock to me as it is for anyone who reads a lot of my stuff that this is my new hyperfixation. Top Gun to Mary Poppins. I have a lot of ideas for this actually. Like who is Bert, is he mortal? Is he magic? Does he age differently like Mary or does he get reincarnated to be her right hand man/lover for as long as she's around? I want to explore! Also, how did her and Bert meet? Did he fight im ww1? Lots of fun questions to be answered. Thanks for reading!

#bert mary poppins #mary poppins #mary poppins 1964 #bear writes #sickfic #flu #fever #yes it's mary poppins fanfic #let me devolve into madness in peace #edwardian period #fluff #hurt/comfort #dick van dyke #julie andrews #bert x mary #mary x bert

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