Peter had never been more terrified in his life. He faced the foe before him, eyes wide, palms sweating, the blood completely drained from his face. He'd have taken anyone—the Lizard, Electro, the Green Goblin, Doctor Octopus, and the symbiotes—over the opponent staring him down.
"Dude, you're going to pass out if you get any paler. Calm down and get it together." Johnny Storm's voice, and million-dollar playboy smile, did little to soothe Peter. His friend hovered behind him, both of them reflected in the mirror. Yet only Johnny appeared composed.
Grimacing, he reached around Peter's shoulders and readjusted his black bow tie.
"Pete—get a grip. I ain't afraid to drag you to the altar."
"When was the last time you got married, Johnny?" Even to his own ears, Peter's voice sounded a bit too high-pitched.
Johnny only grinned. "In Vegas? At least a few times. Legally? Never. I can't be tied down. I gotta do something with all these wild oats. You, on the other hand, are getting married to the most gorgeous woman in the world. And it's about damn time, if you ask me."
"And me." Bobby Drake, lounging on one of the armchairs nearest the mini-fridge, raked Peter up and down with his winter-blue eyes. He whistled. "Damn, dude. You cut a fine one in a tuxedo."
"It isn't the most uncomfortable thing I've squeezed into." Peter glanced down at the suit he'd be getting married—actually married—in. Part of him felt as if this whole thing were some epic practical joke, or even a movie. "Is this for real? Like, I'm…actually doing this?"
Johnny's nostrils flared. "No, we plied you with ayahuasca and you're tripping balls right now."
"Hey," Bobby said. "Language. There's a child present."
Miles, who hadn't said as much as three words since he'd arrived at the church, broke from his distracted reverie and peered owlishly at Bobby. "I'm seventeen," he said. "I've heard and said worse…just not in front of my mom."
"Ah, he's alive," Johnny said. "Thank God. No offence, little dude, but you look bushed. That expo must have kicked your ass, huh?"
"Yeah. The expo." Miles frowned and looked at his shiny dress shoes.
Peter, Johnny and Bobby all glanced at one another. Nobody said a word. Some kind of unspoken oath had been formulated over the last year. Following Peter and Mary Jane's engagement, everyone had gone out of their way to not disturb the peace, especially when it came to one now absent person who, by all rights, should have been standing next to Peter as his Best Man.
Perhaps that accounted for the heightened dread. For the last ten months, both Peter and MJ had needed their rock, and he hadn't been there. Granted, it had allowed them to rediscover each other; Eddie's absence had also opened the door for Peter to form a close friendship with Johnny and Bobby. But those friendships, while valued, paled in comparison to what had existed between Eddie, Peter and Mary Jane.
Someone knocked on the door. A voice—belonging to the officiant of Peter and MJ's wedding—said, "Twenty minutes to go. Better hustle unless you're planning on making a runaway groom."
"I'm going to be sick," Peter said suddenly. His guts roiled. He felt a mounting need to run away. He loved Mary Jane so much, but what right had he to be her husband? A year ago he could have barely provided for himself, let alone someone who deserved so much more than his scrawny, geeky self.
Johnny grabbed Peter by the shoulders. Peter rather thought he felt heat coursing from Johnny's palms like fire. He narrowed his eyes. Johnny may have been able to actually afford his tuxedo, but flaming on right here would be the king of all stupid moves.
"You," he said, "are going to be right as rain. It's just jitters, Pete. I felt the same way when we went dimension hopping, and now look at where I am. Hot as all get out, if you'll pardon me saying so."
"It's not going to be long," Bobby said. "Less than half an hour, my man."
"What if I trip over the vows?" Peter's heart started to race. "What if I trip over my feet? What if she runs? What if someone attacks the church in the middle of—
"I'm gonna slap the dumb out of him," Johnny announced to the room at large. "Mind if I do that?"
"I'm scared," Peter said, and he really was. Scared that any of his unfounded fears would actually come to pass; scared of what would happen after.
It was Miles, still speaking to the floor, who pulled Peter from the edge of a complete meltdown. "It'd be pretty useless if you weren't, Pete." He smiled a little. "It's scary, right? But you've gotta do it…you and MJ need each other. More than anyone I've ever known that's for sure. Besides, you'll be one of the forty-nine per cent that doesn't end in divorce, and that's mythic rare shiny in this day and age." He sighed, his smile fading. "You won't have to die alone now…nobody should have to do that."
Again, the three adults glanced at each other, although this time in concern. Before any of them could so much as voice their worry, the pastor's voice sounded from the other side of the door once more.
"That wasn't suggestion, fellas. This is a wedding. You gotta be up there before the bride."
Peter took a deep breath. He wouldn't think of his wedding as something to be conquered; that was just messed up. Besides, the last year had been relatively peaceful in New York City, and he didn't want to go cooking up trouble when the table wasn't even set for it.
You're going to be someone's husband, he told himself. That's it; that's all. Nothing terrifying about that aside from the expectations placed on men by society and pop culture…
She'd make it better, though. That was Mary Jane's whole style. She approached everything—from a stressful shooting day to battling with alien goop—with that beautiful, level head of hers. It would be all right—he would all right—because MJ was probably champing at the bit to go down the aisle and kick the ceremony in its ass.
"I can't do this." Mary Jane paced back and forth around her dressing room. "This is insane—I'm insane. And I really, really need a cigarette."
"No, you do not," said Aunt Anna from her seat near the make-up table. "And you are not insane. You're getting married. There's a world of difference between insanity and matrimony…although I've never actually figured out what that was."
It was on the tip of MJ's tongue to tell the woman who'd been like a mother to her that she had no business talking about marriage. But she knew that thought—like her irrational fear—was born of nothing more than nerves. Aunt Anna, like Rio—also watching MJ's gradual descent with aloof interest—was single because she chose to be.
MJ stopped in front of the floor length mirror and looked down at the sleek, white wedding dress. "Are you guys sure I shouldn't take it in a little? There's still time to drive to the boutique…"
"Calm down," Kitty sighed. "You're stressing me out."
"Stressed?" MJ laughed. "Sister, you don't know the meaning of the word." She wanted Peter to be there to pull her back from a spiral. Not for the first time since he'd decided to take off for parts unknown, she wanted Eddie to be there for the both of them. But she wouldn't be seeing Peter until she walked down the aisle; and Eddie was likely anywhere between Des Moines and Seoul for all anybody knew.
"We had a conversation a long time ago as I recall," Rio said. "Remember? You being Mary Jane Watson and not backing down from something that scared the pants off you?"
"I'm not wearing pants," MJ said distractedly. "I'm wearing a seven thousand dollar wedding dress. And I'm not going to be Mary Jane Watson anymore…I'm going to be Mary Jane Parker."
"Watson still in your professional life," Kitty noted. "It would be way too confusing for people to watch the next self-defense with Captain America and Mary Jane video without recognizing your name in the credits."
Kitty's words stirred a bit of MJ's old fire. She was better than falling to pieces on her wedding day. She was a well-respected Instagram model and now YouTube sensation. Not only had her online following grown significantly in the last year, but it had done so to the point where The Avengers had recruited her to teach self defense to the rest of the world. Cap would tell her to get a grip; Natasha would…well, in all honestly, Nat would have taken MJ's fear to heart, thrown plastic explosives at the wall, and carried them both away via grappling hook and helicopter, but that was quite beyond the point.
"Oh god," MJ whispered. "I'm getting married." In spite of her histrionics, she couldn't help but smile a little.
Mrs. Peter Parker…it had a nice ring to it.
Someone knocked on the door. "The music is starting in five," said the voice of the pastor. "I already had to drag the men out by their ears. Don't make me come in after you."
"That's our cue," Rio said. She, Aunt Anna, and Kitty all got to their feet. MJ paled and turned to face her aunt. It would be she who gave Mary Jane away, which couldn't have been more fitting. But maybe if MJ appealed to the strict single lady in Aunt Anna, she could still worm her way out of this before she inevitably screwed it up.
Aunt Anna's beautiful face fell into a thunderous frown. She strode across the room on her supermodel's legs, tucked her arm firmly through her niece's, and all but dragged her away from the mirror.
"Don't start," Aunt Anna said through her dazzling smile. "I may not have brought you into this world, but by the power vested in me through adoption's court, I am entitled to take you out."
"Yeah," Kitty said, readjusting the shoulder strap of her pale orange bridesmaid's dress. "You did not shove me into this just to turn and pull a Julia Roberts."
MJ took a deep breath. They were right, of course. She and Peter—and nearly everyone in their social and personal spheres—had been planning this wedding since last summer. Not a damn thing had gone wrong in that time. Yet it had all gone by so fast—too fast. Was she, Mary Jane, former party girl, really ready for a domestic life with a man who moonlighted as a superhero?
Yes, she realized. Yes I am.
Rio led the way into the corridor. Aunt Anna and MJ followed, with Kitty taking up the rear. Just as the door clicked shut, panic clouded Mary Jane's judgment. She whirled around, nearly wobbling on her high heels.
"Crap!" She squeaked. "I left the ring in there and the door locks from the inside!"
Kitty rolled her eyes. "You did? Great, this whole affair has exploded and you've ruined—oh my god, I didn't know Viola Davis was coming to your wedding!" She pointed somewhere down the hall. MJ, Aunt Anna, and Rio all turned and stared, searching for one of Mary Jane's personal heroes. MJ, seeing nothing, turned in time to see Kitty push the door open.
"False alarm," she said sweetly. "And the door so wasn't locked, MJ. Just take a deep breath. It'll be fine."
"But I could have sworn I heard it click," MJ said distractedly.
"Never mind that now," Aunt Anna said. She nodded at Rio and Kitty, who'd retrieved the rings from the dressing room. "You two need to get up to the altar yesterday."
They both nodded and scurried away.
MJ's arm trembled. Aunt Anna tightened her grip.
"You're going to be fine," she said. It was something she'd repeated time and time again after Mary Jane had come to live with her. Every failed test, every broken relationship and hangover had resulted in those words: you're going to be fine.
As the familiar organ music sounded, Mary Jane made herself believe that everything would be okay. Then she and Aunt Anna entered the reception hall, and MJ forgot about everything but the man standing at the altar.
Everything would be fine.
Unless, of course, the outside world chose to interfere.
"Everything looks fine." Natasha said into the commlink. She peered down at the street below. From her vantage point near the church on East 5th, she could see all the agents planted among the civilians: an elderly couple sitting near a cafe, a young man walking a handful of dogs, and the hotdog vendor just to name a few.
"We're good over here." Cap's voice came crackling through transmission a split-second later. "Just some traffic accidents. I thought I saw a mugging, but it turned out to be bunkum."
Natasha chuckled. "Bunkum? Come on, Steve. We've been through the use of 1940's slang."
"Forgive me. I meant that it turned out to be bullshit."
"Good boy. Tony, how's things from the air?"
"EVERYTHING LOOKS CLEAR FROM UP HERE!" Tony yelled, somewhat needlessly. The rush of wind belied the fact that he was flying around the entire perimeter of New York City. "TRAFFIC IS MOVING STEADILY ALONG THE JERSEY TURNPIKE, AND THERE APPEARS TO BE SOME KIND OF FLASH MOB NEAR CENTRAL PARK!"
"You better be reimbursing the bill for my hearing test," Natasha said.
Tony chuckled. "Chillax, N-Ro. Just having some fun. It's not often we get to do something this damn lazy."
"Well, knock on wood it stays that way." Natasha peered through a pair of binoculars. For one moment she dreaded that the chopper she saw coming to rest at the roof opposite the nearby church was some kind of gang affiliate. Then she relaxed, seeing nothing but a richly dressed woman in a black dress alight.
Probably some supermodel friend of Mary Jane's.
"I still wish I could be there," Cap said.
A small smile grace Natasha's lips. In the time that Mary Jane had started working for The Avengers, she and Steve had become good friends. He'd taught her just about everything he knew about kicking ass and taking names; she, meanwhile, had done what Natasha hadn't been able to do and gotten him to lighten up in the face of the modern world.
"Don't worry, Boy Scout," Tony said. "We're doing a service just as important as throwing rice and blowing bubbles."
"At your suggestion," Natasha said teasingly. "Iron Man's got a soft spot, huh?"
"Aw, shut it." Natasha could practically see Tony blushing. He'd never admit it to anyone unless plied with copious amounts of alcohol, but he truly did have a place in his heart for both MJ and her husband-to-be. Natasha couldn't tell if it was genuine, or born out of guilt. After all, a year and a bit ago, Tony had been responsible for turning Spider-Man over to S.H.I.E.L.D. She herself had been privy to his brief incarceration in the Triskelion. While she didn't consider herself remotely friendly with Peter Parker or his bride…well, she'd be lying if she said that patrolling the streets on their big day didn't make her feel a little bit warm around the heart area.
Besides, it was a good exercise in team-reconstruction after the spot of bother the team had gotten into involving a certain invention of Tony's.
Natasha's transmission crackled. As if via telepathy, a heavily accented voice came through the commlink. "Everything is fine by the Queensboro," Wanda said. "Vision is patrolling the exit to Connecticut."
"Right on," Tony said. "Hey, maybe after this we could—
"—go and get some shawarma," Natasha, Cap, and even Wanda, all said at once. Any other day, Natasha might have refused for the sake of her solitude. But as she continued to think about what the scene inside that little church might be, she didn't feel at all inclined to be alone today.
A sea of faces stared back at Peter. He stood before friends, co-workers and people he hadn't seen in years, his palms sweating. Beside him, Miles stood serene as Best Man. Johnny and Bobby flanked Miles, Johnny grinning at the looks he was getting from the few single women and at least one of the men assembled. Flanking the other side of the altar were Rio—MJ's Maid of Honor—Kitty Pryde, and MJ's friend Angelica Jones who, as usual, looked as if she were suffering from some mild fever.
Peter's eyes scanned the crowd. Half the staff of Horizon Labs was strewn here and there: Doctor Betty Banner, seated next to her husband Bruce; Darcy Lewis, sitting next to her boyfriend Ian, winked at Peter. Not even a wedding could have gotten Darcy into a dress—she'd decided to put on a pine-striped tuxedo and hat that made her look like a brunette Marlene Dietrich.
Robbie Robertson and his wife Gloria were seated near the front; Betty Brant and her date were both looking dreamily towards the altar. And J. Jonah Jameson himself had shown up. Peter caught his eye without really meaning to. JJ smiled—actually smiled—thus serving to reinforce Peter's belief that this whole affair might really just be some kind of mass delusion.
He looked from JJ to the front row.
The ghost of Uncle Ben could have filled an empty space next to Aunt May, reserved for Anna Watson. Peter locked eyes with the woman who'd been like a mother to him. Aunt May hadn't cried yet, and Peter knew she was just stubborn enough not to. Yet the look in her eyes spoke volumes.
And still, it felt just one person shy of perfection.
Eddie should have been here.
At first, all three had believed in Peter's hopes that Spider-Man could share The Big Apple with the being known as Venom. But Eddie, for all his control, had operated under an entirely different credo. They hadn't even fought about it, let alone broached the subject. But less than three months after Spider-Man had learned to share the streets, Eddie had left.
It would have been hell all over again if it hadn't been for Mary Jane…
Organ music started to play. Peter's heart raced beneath his ribs.
He waited, wondering if MJ would show, and then hating himself for thinking something so unfounded.
When she appeared at the end of the aisle, Peter lost sight of all else. The church disappeared; he didn't feel the presence of the pastor or any of his groomsman; he didn't see Aunt Anna arm-in-arm with MJ.
All he saw was her.
Beautiful didn't cut it; amazing didn't even come close. She was everything to him and so much more. Sometimes she felt like a force of nature: ever-present and potentially devastating but also so completely at place wherever she was. How in the world she was still with him after everything they'd been through, Peter didn't know. He only knew that he was grateful for it more than he had the capacity to even process.
He remembered the first time he'd actually set eyes on her after all those months of missing one another. Her eyes wide, her lips parted, a single cigarette dangling from one hand. Even then, on that cold December night, she'd had the power to drive his demons away, even if just for a moment. He'd forgotten about his heartache, had forgotten about his discomfort…had forgotten about Gwen Stacy.
He remembered their first kiss under the mistletoe only a few days later; then, some time after that, their first real kiss, and their first time.
He felt tears prickle behind his eyes, and for once, didn't care.
This was happening—actually happening. MJ and Aunt Anna drew near the altar. Anna gave Peter a knowing smile—a rare occurrence for her—and then quietly left MJ in his care. She sat silently next to Aunt May who, to Peter's immense relief, still hadn't started crying.
He couldn't say the same for himself.
As he took MJ's hand, he abandoned ship and lost himself in the ocean of her. She didn't need a wedding dress to make her appear stunning. Hell, she didn't even need to be—as Johnny and the general population of Instagram and YouTube were so fond of pointing out—one of the most incredibly beautiful people in the world to be wonderful in his eyes.
Someone cleared their throat. Peter looked round; the look on the pastor's face told him that he'd missed a cue somewhere.
"Your vows," the pastor said, a knowing smile on her face.
"R-right."
A few people in the audience chuckled; Mary Jane laughed, eyes bright.
Peter had dithered with what to say for months. He'd tried poems, tried going the funny route. Eventually, at the suggestion of Rio Morales, he'd decided to just go from the heart. He had no idea if the words would suffice—how could they when it came to love? Artists, musicians and poets devoted themselves to capturing love in all its majesty in their works; yet it always fell flat. But that, Peter had come to learn, was what the magic of the thing was—beyond words, beyond art…beyond comprehension.
He didn't start to cry until Mary Jane read her vows back to him. The fact that a good hundred people were watching didn't phase him in the least. MJ squeezed his hand as she spoke, and he was alarmed but also pleased to feel her own fingers shaking.
The rings followed. Aunt May had driven Mary Jane to tears months ago when she'd given her her own wedding ring—the one Uncle Ben had given the day of their marriage. The significance of the small silver band with its perfect emerald and diamonds wasn't lost on either Man or Wife during the exchange.
Then it was time for the kiss. They'd had many of those since first they'd met. This one branded something entirely different—sealing the rest of their lives together. It was their first kiss as husband and wife, and when they, at last, broke apart, Peter felt as if he could have flown to the ends of the universe, he was so happy.
Applause thundered throughout the church. People whistled and cheered; Peter held MJ to him, watching as their loved ones watched them face the future together. Aunt May had finally broken her composure, and was openly weeping against Aunt Anna.
Then all was a blur of motion. He and MJ were taken from the hall to an area backstage. Photos flashed as he stood with his wife—good God, his wife. He stood for photos with his groomsmen, and then with Aunt May. It bordered on surreal; all he wanted to do was keep Mary Jane close to him, afraid that something would come along and ruin this.
But nothing did. For once in his life, he felt as if he were finally allowed to have something—something altogether for him.
The austerity lifted as the party adjourned to the reception hall.
"We did it," MJ laughed as she sank into the seat next to him. "We actually freaking did it, tiger!"
"One for the record books." Peter laughed, and didn't at all object when MJ flung her legs over his lap. "Yikes. Are those high heels even legal?"
"If you have a concealed weapon's permit." MJ kicked off her high heels, grinning at the scandalized look on Aunt Anna's face.
Noticing someone from across the room, MJ frowned. "Hey, what's with Melisandre over there?" She nodded; Peter followed and saw a tall, middle-aged woman in a dark red dress that somehow managed to not clash at all with her bobbed red hair.
"Oh, that's Professor Grey," Kitty said casually. "She's chaperoning me and Bobby."
Peter snorted. "You're kidding me, right?" Not only were Kitty and Bobby both in their mid-twenties, but Peter knew from anecdotal evidence that Kitty—nor any woman—was not Bobby's type at all.
"Nope," Kitty said. "Not kidding."
"She here to stop you two pretending to neck or something?"
"No, she's here to make sure we don't use our powers," Kitty said.
"What?" Both Peter and MJ said at the same time.
"Hm?" Kitty smiled serenely at them both. On her other side, Bobby rolled his eyes and quickly ordered a single malt scotch.
Their meal was heavenly. JJ had insisted on footing the bill for the reception. Peter guessed that the man's involvement had something to do with him being a victim of four failed marriages. Amazingly, he still believed in matrimony for others.
They had their first dance together after that. He held her close as the crowd looked on. She smiled all the time, even when she buried her face against his chest. God, she felt so right against him; so warm and soft and so utterly her own, and yet still, surrendering. Letting herself be his, just as he would give everything to her.
"How'd this happen, huh?" Peter whispered.
"Beautiful chaos," MJ murmured.
"Whatever it was, I'm glad it did. So damn glad, baby."
"I wouldn't take back any of it. Not even—" she pressed her lips against his ear and added "—getting kidnapped by Doc Ock, running around with that alien slime, or…having to pick up your dirty laundry."
"What a nightmare your husband is, Mrs. Parker."
"But he's my nightmare, Mr. Parker."
The crowd had surged in around them as the music started to play livelier. Soon their friends and co-workers engulfed them; Peter received the thump on the back that Johnny had likely been saving up for the last seven days. He managed to get the exhausted-looking Miles to join him in a highly embarrassing version of The Hustle, and then foisted him off, red faced, to a laughing Mary Jane.
Strong, slender arms turned Peter around from the sight of his wife and Best Man dancing with Rio and Ben Grimm.
Aunt May beamed. "Oh sweetheart," she sighed. Peter hugged her tight as he could without exerting too much strength. "Uncle Ben would be so proud."
"I feel him here," Peter said as he led Aunt May in a dance. "Is that weird?"
"Not at all. Although he'd have had a problem with how upper class it all is." Aunt May eyed the triple chocolate fondue fountain and fruit display as if it had offended her. "We got married in a place about three-quarters the size of this, and all we did for dinner was go to an In-and-Out."
"That would have been just fine for me," Peter said. "Well except…" But Peter stopped himself from mentioning Eddie's absence. This was neither the time, nor the place.
Aunt May gave him a knowing look. "Don't worry, Peter. We still haven't gotten to all the gifts yet."
MJ couldn't have felt happier if she tried. And after their meal and nearly thirty minutes of dancing, she also couldn't have needed air more. Fanning her hand by her face, she slipped away from J. Jonah Jameson and hurried towards the nearest exit.
After the heat and noise of the reception hall, the cool autumnal air was better than anything offered up at a spa.
Married!
Mary Jane looked at the ring on her finger. She felt breathless at the very idea of it. Rio had teased her mercilessly after the engagement had been announced. After all, there was no bigger a disbeliever in matrimony than Mary Jane Watson. Yet that had been…not exactly before Peter had come along, but before MJ had really understood why it was that someone would want to bind themselves to another person for the rest of their lives.
And yet, despite her happiness, she couldn't help but let a small inkling of doubt leave a mark on the map of her thoughts. Suppose it wasn't forever? Suppose Spider-Man got in the way of things? Suppose—
Nonsense, said a voice in her head, so abrupt and loud and so unlike her own that Mary Jane started, sure that someone had spoken aloud. She stared around the little back garden of the church. To her surprise, she wasn't alone. The woman in red—the one Kitty had said was Professor Grey—stood near a potted olive tree.
She smiled warmly at MJ.
"Hello Miss Wats—or, I suppose it's Mrs. Parker, now."
"Uh—yes. It is." Though Professor Grey seemed perfectly friendly, she had an unmistakable air of respect about her—something MJ had encountered only in the likes of Natasha Romanov.
Professor Grey strode towards her. "I'm sorry for sneaking onto the guest list. But Kitty and Bobby have a habit of drawing attention to themselves in public settings."
"I can't argue with you there." MJ and Kitty had been friends for some time; and while she didn't know Bobby Drake quite as well, she couldn't deny that odd things tended to happen around the two of them. "How did you get an invitation anyway? I've had so many of my subscribers try."
"I'm told I can be quite persuasive," Professor Grey said. "And while I've got you here, I wanted to say thank you."
MJ blinked. "For what?"
"Keeping an eye on Kitty. And I should pass my thanks onto your husband for being such a good friend to Bobby, too. Saying they haven't had an easy time of things would be an understatement."
Mary Jane could well believe that. Still, it wasn't as though either of them went around starting house fires or anything.
Professor Grey sighed. "I suppose I should get back."
"Right. There's supposed to be a bouquet throwing later."
Professor Grey laughed. "Oh, hell no. I've been married for almost twenty years, give or take a few." A softness overcame her. "Scott's the most wonderful man…but I guess everyone thinks that about their partners, don't they?"
"Yeah." MJ's gaze strayed to a dust of dark purple dahlia flowers. Once again doubt crept into the stronghold of her mind. She loved Peter more than she'd ever thought she could love somebody. But after everything they'd been through as an unmarried couple, would anything further make a difference now that they were married?
"It's not a magic fix," Professor Grey said.
MJ blinked. "Geez. Read my mind much?"
Professor Grey only laughed again. "That's for me to know and you to never find out. And likes I said, it's not going to be this big Band-Aid. In fact, a whole bunch of new problems are going to crop up." Her gaze grew dreamy and faraway, and MJ wondered if the woman had forgotten she wasn't alone in the courtyard. "But there's times when you'll look at him after it feels like the world is falling down, and you'll just know: it's not as bad because he's there."
MJ smiled. She hadn't had anyone say anything like that to her. Aunt Anna had never been married, and never would if she could help it. As for her own parents, there's had been more a master-slave relationship than anything involving matrimony.
"I'll see you inside," Professor Grey said. "And Mary Jane? If you ever need help with anything at all, just give me a thought. I'm more connected then you think." Leaving MJ feeling content but also very bemused, she wandered back into the hall. MJ waited for several minutes more, watching the clouds turn hazy gold in the New York City sky.
Then she too returned to the wedding reception.
Procession continued. They cut the cake, and drove their guests to laughter when MJ smushed Peter's piece against his lips. Johnny Storm gave a speech that nearly made Peter break out in sweat from how borderline inappropriate it was. Rio spoke, breaking down several times which, in turn, made MJ start to tear up for the umpteenth time that day.
A strange electricity of anticipation hovered in the hall. It was almost time for them to leave for their honeymoon. Once away from the crowd, Peter knew the realization would sink in altogether differently. It was, after all, one thing to be the husband of a new wife in front of an audience; it was quite entirely something else to be alone with her and know that they'd made this kind of commitment.
MJ hurried to the front of a small platoon of gathered women. Peter watched from the sidelines, jostled between JJ, Bobby and Johnny. Miles had finally fallen asleep in his seat some time during the wedding games; Rio and Reed Richards had thoughtfully carried him to a spare room to get some peace and quiet.
Mary Jane made a false start to toss her bouquet. She stuck her tongue out at the disappointed "aww" from the clustered women. Then she tossed the floral arrangement and turned around.
Peter felt his stomach jolt. In parting to dive for the bouquet, several of the ensemble had revealed a figure standing in their midst. She must have been skirting attention for quite some time, because Peter would have noticed her in a crowd regardless of her snow-white hair.
Felicia Hardy wasn't even trying to catch the bouquet. So naturally it had to land in her clasped hands.
She cast the flowers one swift glance, as if a frog had leapt into her clutches. With a muttered "ew" she tossed the bouquet into the observing women. A scuffle quickly broke out, and Felicia, lifting the hem of her midnight-black dress, quickly got out of harm's way.
Peter glanced at MJ. She'd noticed Felicia too, and her eyes and gone wide. Nonetheless, she stepped down from the platform at the front of the reception hall.
"Hope you don't mind me crashing," Felicia said. She still looked as dangerously enticing as ever. "I promise I'm only going to try and make a go at one of the men…and maybe that feisty redhead with the glasses over there."
"What are you doing here?" Peter couldn't help but ask, even as he gave Felicia a hug. The last time he'd seen her, she'd allowed a piece of tormented symbiotie to overtake her entirely. It had been in the wake of Harry Osborn's death at the hands of Carnage, so Peter couldn't blame her even if he tried. But the difference between then and now was startling.
"Did I not just say I was wedding crashing?" Felicia turned to Mary Jane. She smiled warmly, and then started when MJ went for a hug as well. "Aw, she likes me," Felicia purred as she returned the embrace. "And she's glowing, too. God, the two of you are freaking adorable."
"It would have been nice if you'd RSVP'd," MJ said with a laugh.
"Cats do what they want, not what they're told. Besides, it would have ruined the surprise to the real surprise."
Peter and MJ glanced each other, confused. At that moment, Aunt May sidled up. She took sight of the newcomer and hurried towards the three of them.
"Ah, good. Felicia, I was starting to worry that you might have mixed up the dates."
"Never in a million years, Aunt May."
Peter blinked. "You two know each other?"
"We might have communicated on Facebook," Aunt May said. She smiled mysteriously at Peter and MJ. "Hurry up and say your goodbyes. We need to get you two up to the roof before the landing permit expires."
"The roof?" MJ asked.
"That's where the surprise is," Felicia added.
So, with little choice and much bemusement, Peter and Mary Jane made the rounds and said farewell. Then they followed Aunt May and Felicia up the stairs and towards roof access.
"I hope it's not another electric mixer," MJ said as Felicia pushed the door to the roof open. "I thought not having a gift registry was kind of a courtesy."
"Well, maybe we can sell the others online," Peter said. "Or you could start a new YouTube series: In the Kitchen with the Scarlet Witch."
"Wanda wouldn't…" But whatever Wanda wouldn't do was anyone's guess. Mary Jane's voice trailed into nothing. At first, Peter thought that it was because she, like him, had seen the black helicopter waiting on the landing pad.
Then he saw him.
The figure stood with his back to Peter and the others, but there was no mistaking that shaggy blonde hair, or the Olympian body stretching a tailored tuxedo.
Eddie Brock turned around to face Peter and MJ. The sun had started to set, and the ruddy glow of it in the autumn sky made him look border-line mythical.
Peter felt as if he'd been slugged in the gut.
He crossed the space between himself and Eddie and threw his arms around the bigger man's neck. Eddie hadn't prepared for the full brunt of Peter's embrace. He half-staggered backwards, lifting Peter off of his feet in an effort to maintain his balance.
"Hey, tiger." That laugh—god, Peter had missed that laugh. Eddie set him back down on his feet, eyes bright as starlight. "Geez, look at you." And that voice, with its gentle Brooklyn accent. He smoothed a crease in the front of Peter's tuxedo.
"Look at you!" The words came out in half a sob. "Way to not make an entrance, you big lug."
"I didn't want to distract anyone," Eddie said. "Today wasn't about anyone but…" He glanced over Peter's shoulder, and then stepped around him. His eyes had gone wide, and his lips had parted as if spying a vision from heaven.
Mary Jane hadn't moved. She'd gone a little pale at the sight of Eddie, but Peter judged her hesitancy to be more genuine shock than anger. Neither of them had been able to hold onto any grudges when it came to Eddie, because how in the hell could they?
Aunt May and Felicia respectfully moved back several paces.
Eddie stared at MJ as if she were a goddess. Of course, their history went back further than MJ's and Peter's did. Peter watched his best friend and his wife, feeling as if he were seeing something beyond himself.
Eddie brushed the side of MJ's face, his lips still parted.
Finally, he managed to say, "You look beautiful."
Then Mary Jane was hugging him like a life raft.
"What took you so long?" MJ choked out. They broke apart, and Mary Jane wiped at her eyes. "And holy crap, if I cry more today, my eyes are going to burn out of my skull."
"Don't do that. You'll miss all the sights," Felicia said.
"Sights?" Peter repeated. "What's going on?"
Aunt May sighed, as if Peter were being obtuse on purpose. "You're going on your honeymoon now. That's generally what happens after a wedding."
Eddie smiled at Peter and MJ. "I'm going to fly you two kids to Hudson Valley."
"That was my gift," Aunt May added. "I got in touch with Felicia a few months ago and we planned the whole thing."
"Pretty sneaky, huh?" Felicia smirked. "And you wouldn't believe how much I had to bend this one's arm to get him to come 'round."
"Oh, shut up," Eddie muttered. He motioned to the waiting helicopter. "Shall we? And don't look so nervous—I'm certified to fly one of these things thanks to Leasey—Felicia, I mean."
As if the day couldn't have gotten any better. Mary Jane said good-bye to Aunt May and Felicia, hugging them so tightly that Peter feared she'd choke one of them. Then she climbed into the helicopter.
Peter kissed Aunt May's cheek. "I don't know how I'm going to thank you for this," he said.
"You don't have to, sweetheart. That's why it's a gift."
Peter turned to Felicia. She backed away. "If you kiss me," she said, "I will scratch you in a place that will be very inconvenient for your wedding night."
"Will a hug be okay?"
"I suppose I can but try."
Peter embraced Felicia. She tilted her mouth to his ear and whispered, "He's all yours now, big boy. Well…both of yours."
On that enigmatic note, Felicia all but pushed Peter towards the chopper, towards Eddie, and towards his wife.
A/N: Please forgive how saccharine this chapter is. I wanted to get the wedding done and dusted. Anyway, this story won't be as long as the other two. I'm hoping it won't be anywhere near as intense as The Insidious Six, either.
Also, some of you will be happy to know that I finally got over my prejudice and watched Spider-Man: Homecoming and I...liked it a lot. Tom Holland is a precious little baby, and I'm highly traumatized by Infinity War. Honestly, I like the two versions of Spidey pretty much equally, but for different reasons, so there's that…
Thanks for all the follows and reviews so far!