Linnet's Note: Companion to "Fault," same time. Strawberry Pie undertones, tread carefully.

Disclaimer: No ownage.

Turn Out

How did it turn out like this again? Mary Jane thought numbly, studying herself in floor length mirror, Why am I getting married today?

Oh, yeah, that was it, wasn't it? She loved John. Right?

This isn't exactly the right time to be questioning your love for a man that you are about to spend the rest of your life with. You should have thought of this a long time before you accepted the proposal.

She felt like slamming her head against something hard, it might knock some sense into her. But the mirror would break if she used that (she had enough bad luck as it was), and the wine bottle in the corner wasn't really that much of an option.

With a sigh, Mary Jane waited impatiently for her bridesmaid to finish strapping her into her wedding dress. It was beautiful, it really was. White and long, off the shoulder, with gorgeous diamond earrings that had been a gift from the Jamesons.

Glancing at the clock, Mary Jane realized that she only had a half hour more of being a single woman. Then, she would be married, and tied down, probably in a large house with five screaming little children.

She didn't know if it was just her, but the thought, for some reason, didn't appeal.

Peter's little apartment would be an improvement to that, She thought, placing another pin in her hair.

Peter Parker. Now, there was a mystery. He loved her, then he didn't, and now? Mary Jane had come to the conclusion that if he didn't love her, then she really, really needed to stop wasting her time. He was too emotional, anyway.

A different kind of mystery than Harry Osborn, though. A very different type of mystery.

I wonder if he's here? She gave a small, wry smile to her reflection as she reached for her eyeliner, Probably. Without the Daily Bugle, everyone knows that Oscorp will go under.

I wonder if he'd come anyway? If he didn't need the Daily Bugle, would he come?

Mary Jane stopped short of putting on the lipstick she had been holding. The answer was immediate, but strange.

Yes. Of course he'd come. He'd put on that fake smile that he uses when he's talking business, and would act so politely all evening that by the end I would feel like dunking his head in the wine.

She sighed, looking her reflection in the eyes. She didn't recognize the woman staring back at her. Red hair, light eyes, pale skin. The physical features were the same, but there was just something about the woman that was missing.

Happiness? Love? I should be happy. I'm about to marry a very nice, very rich man who I am supposed to love very, very much.

Mary Jane stopped with her application of lipstick a second time as the truth sunk in.

I'm supposed to love him, but I don't.

She stared at herself again, wondering why she was still putting up this charade. She didn't love John Jameson, she knew that. So did Harry. Mary Jane wasn't sure why it was important that Harry knew that she didn't love John, but somehow, it was.

But the Harry back then . . . he had been different. He had been cocky, reckless, and not caring about the consequences of things. He had been a carefree teenager with a good life. That had changed, now. Ever since he left after his father's funeral, he had a shadow in his eyes that made him careful of what he did. As volatile as ever, but more careful.

We didn't want to be anything more than friends. Right?

She was just questioning too many damn things when she wasn't supposed to be. This was her wedding day, and all thought of Harry Osborn should be the farthest thing from her mind.

Right?

More than part of Mary Jane still loved him. It was, in fact, a very large chunk of her that was currently screaming that she should start running for the door while she still could-either to Peter, or Harry, or under her bed. The other, more tame part of her mind reasoned that she should go through with this as planned and bury all thoughts of both Peter and Harry into the deepest depths of her mind.

Besides, Harry will just stay and congratulate me and mingle around with all the other corporation owners with that all-business smile. Then he'll leave me with John and we'll go to the Estate and . . . oh God.

Mary Jane hadn't thought that far ahead yet, and the reality came crashing down hard.

"MJ? You almost ready?" Her mother called out, sounding slightly worried, "You should already be waiting down in the hall!"

"Yeah . . . yeah. I'm coming, mom, don't worry." She looked at herself in the mirror, wondering once again who the woman staring back at her was.

How did it turn out like this again?