Two days had passed, and a comfortable silence had nestled itself within the apartment. Not that they were avoiding each other, it was just there wasn't much to say. MJ enjoyed Peter's company immensely, and she tried not to worry about him or their "situation." No matter what MJ knew that Peter would be there for her. But she wasn't quite so sure about herself. She didn't know what she would do if she was pregnant. Oh, she loved Peter and wanted to have kids, but she didn't know if she was ready. It was a subtle nagging thought that hung constantly at the back of MJ's mind. But she wouldn't allow her worry to show. She was too busy. They both were.

Peter was no closer to finding out any other details about Harry's apparent death. As his leads continued to hit dead ends, Peter started to question whether or not Harry Osborne was truly dead. But that just caused more questions to pop into Peter's mind. Questions he didn't have a clue as to the answers. All I have to do is find Harry, Peter thought as he walked up the steps to his, and now MJ's, apartment. Once I find Harry, alive, everything will be clear. Peter pulled his keys from his coat pocket as he reached the door. He didn't dare tell MJ what he suspected about Harry's death. In fact, he hadn't even asked her about that night. She might shed some light on the subject, Peter made a mental note. He would ask her when the time was right; MJ already had enough on her mind.

That thought brought Peter up short, as well as the smoking frying pan on the stove right beside the door. The chicken in the pan was burnt to a crisp. Peter grabbed a lid and covered the smoky pan, then turned the burner off. Peter glanced up at the fire alarm that wasn't even triggered. Have to talk to the landlord about that, Peter thought. The smoke was so thick Peter couldn't see where MJ was. Peter waved his hand around trying to clear the smoke from around him and started to walk gingerly into the living room area.

"MJ? MJ, where are you?" Peter called, coughing a bit from the smoke. MJ didn't respond. Peter started to worry. His spider sense told him that there wasn't any danger, but he didn't like it. Maybe she fell asleep and forgot she left the stove on, Peter rationalized as he started up the stairs to their bedroom. The smoke was lighter upstairs and as Peter opened the bedroom door, he heard movement in the bathroom.

"MJ?" Peter called as he walked to the closed bathroom door, knocking lightly.

"You okay? MJ?"

After a short pause, MJ called back shakily, "Yeah, I'll be out in a minute." Peter looked at the door strangely. He wanted desperately to open the door, but didn't. Peter waited another moment, and then he heard it. MJ was getting sick. Peter brow furrowed with concern, his hand holding the doorknob, wanting desperately to go in.

"MJ, I'm coming in." Peter announced as he opened the door and peered in. MJ knelt on the floor in front of the toilet, as pale as a ghost. Peter pressed his lips together and looked compassionately at MJ's slumped form. He walked over to the sink and wet a washcloth.

"Peter, I'm okay. Please, go away." MJ moaned as another wave of nausea washed through her. She lurched forward and dry-heaved a few times into the toilet. She slumped back away from the toilet, looking drained. Peter reached across and flushed the toilet and knelt next to MJ. MJ immediately curled into his waiting arms as he ran the cool washcloth over her ashen cheeks.

"I don't know what happened. I just wanted to make you a nice dinner. Then all of a sudden, I couldn't take the smell of the food. I barely made it up the steps." MJ chuckled. "I can take the smell of the Moondance Diner all day long, but can't stand the smell of my own cooking."

Neither one acknowledged that this could be a sign of something else. Both weren't ready to face the fact that this was a very bad, or good depending how you look at it, sign. Peter was silent as he held MJ in his arms as they sat on the bathroom floor. How romantic, MJ thought.

MJ slowly unwound herself from Peter's arms and rose to brush her teeth. Peter dropped the washcloth onto the counter, next to the sink. Peter lightly squeezed MJ's shoulder, and placed a soft kiss to her hair.

"Why don't we go out to eat?" Peter whispered. MJ smiled into the mirror over her shoulder at Peter. Her smile faded as he saw the look of concern and dismay on Peter's face as he exited the bathroom.

Harry stood before the full-length mirror. I look stupid, he thought as he continued to stare at his reflection. Why do superheroes have to wear costumes? To hide the truth from those that would seek to destroy them, another voice called inside Harry's mind. Or was it? Harry had stopped trying to figure it out. It sounded so much like his father, but it was comforting to think that he was still with him.

The black and silver armor of the costume hid his features well, while still allowing freedom of movement. The performance enhancers had done an incredible job. Harry felt invincible. His scientists, the ones that he had kidnapped then killed, had worked out the "bugs" in the original formula. His mind was sharp, not deluded. His father was a victim of science's failure, not because he was crazy. Harry had proven that as he stood there looking at himself. And Spiderman, PETER, didn't think about that. He just killed my father, when he should have tried to help him. Just like he tries to help all the other people of this city. Harry reached for the helmet that covered his face. It was in the shape of a wolf, with silver accents. 3 silver knife handles protruded from each side along the ribs of the armor. Two silver shogun-style swords criss-crossed Harry's back, the handles protruding over each shoulder, creating the illusion of horns. Harry had been on the fencing team for years at his father's club. It was time to use this knowledge. The glider had also been improved, allowing for more handling and quieter acceleration. He won't know what's coming until it too late, Harry thought as he placed the helmet on his head. Time to see what I'm really capable of.

Peter and MJ exited the movie theatre arm-in-arm. MJ head was leaning on Peter's shoulder as the walked. She was feeling much better. They walked without a specific direction. They just walked and held each other.

"Will it always be like this?" MJ wondered aloud, not meaning to voice her wandering thoughts. Peter smiled and kissed her forehead, throwing his arm around her shoulder as the continued to walk.

"I sure hope so."

"Did I say that aloud?" MJ asked

"Yeah. You did." Peter chuckled as the entered Battery Park. It was a cloudy night, the moon only a quarter visible. MJ laughed as she moved away from Peter's embrace, holding his strong hand in her gloved one.

"You know what I want?" MJ asked sweetly.

"Oh, now there's an interesting question. What do you want?" Peter smirked at MJ laughing face. He noted that the color and vitality had returned where it was previously absent. It gave him heart that she was okay, truly.

"I want us to be one of those old couples you see in Central Park. You know, the ones that walk as slow as they want, holding each other's hands and smiling." MJ danced away from Peter, swirling around in the grass as the snow started to fall from the sky. Peter watched as the silvery white flakes stuck to MJ's hair, giving her the look of a winter fairy. Peter laughed as MJ sauntered over to him and pushed him up against a column that lined the edge of the river's edge. MJ slowly kissed Peter on the lips. Peter lightly held MJ's hips and returned her kiss. Their lips parted, but their breath was visible and mingled in the cold night air.

"Do you know why they walk slow and smile?" Peter whispered against MJ's lips. MJ leaned back puzzled, then smiled at Peter, shaking her head, no.

"Because they know that they've been through it all. They've made good decisions and bad ones. But through it all, they were together, always."

"Sounds wonderful. I hope we're like them." MJ spoke, her voice muffled in Peter's coat as she snuggled closer to him.

Me too, Peter thought as he rubbed his hands up and down MJ's back, both to comfort her and keep his hands from freezing. Damn, I should have brought my leather gloves. Peter thought to himself again.

"C'mon. Let's get out of here." Peter moved away from the column and started to walk away with MJ against his side.

Peter's spider-senses kicked in a millisecond before the impact. He had just enough time to push MJ out of the way as the attacker flew at him. The shadow hit with such force that to threw Peter backwards almost 20 feet into the icy water of the Hudson River. MJ fell to the ground, helplessly. She scrapped the palms of her hands on the cement and her chin had hit the ground as well. She looked back to see where Peter was, but he wasn't there. She heard a strange whispering sound from above. The shadow hovered over her, not moving. The smooth obsidian eyes glared at her from above. MJ was paralyzed with fear. But she quickly regained her strength and ran to the river's edge.

"PETER!!" MJ screamed to the dark water below. Suddenly she felt a presence behind her. MJ whipped around, ready to fight. The black menace stood there. His face and body moving closer to MJ, pushing her up against the same column she had pushed Peter against.

"Why did you do that?" MJ asked her arms held protectively against the attacker's advancing forwardness.

"Because. Everyone knows that you're Spiderman's girl." The attacker hand came up and gently traced MJ's cheek, wrapping a few strands of red hair around his finger, pulling her closer. MJ resisted and pulled back futilely. "I was hoping he was around and willing to fight….fight for you." MJ could feel the attacker's breath against her cheek; she moved her face away in disgust. The menace looked up and around, searching for any sign of Spiderman.

"Obviously he doesn't value you as much as I thought." The menace moved away, but not before pulling the hairs wrapped around his finger from MJ's head. MJ yelped in response to this abuse.

"Not a very good boyfriend if he isn't willing, or able, to protect his true love. Maybe you should leave him. Maybe you SHOULD have stayed with the one before him. He might have been the better choice."

MJ was so frightened she couldn't move. Where is Peter? OH GOD, please let him be alive! MJ closed her eyes and prayed as the menace disappeared into the night.

Peter was freezing. He moved as quickly as he could to get to the seawall. The ice-cold river was sapping the energy right out of him. He could see the phantom before MJ, threatening her. He croaked her name, but the water choked him again and again. I have to get to her. Can't stop now. Peter's mind was totally focused on getting to MJ. He raised his wrist to shoot a web, but the mixture of the water and cold air had "iced over" the slits in his wrists. So he kept swimming. He just couldn't get there, his body was getting lethargic. His eyes rolled in his head and his eyelids fluttered closed. His face hit the water, causing him to breath down a mouth full of water. He coughed again, his body so cold. MJ, help me! HELP! Peter thought as his hand reached towards where he had last seen her.

MJ's eyes opened a crack; she looked around for the evil thing that had attacked them. She snapped out of her fear and turned to the water. She saw him a few feet from a floating dock. He wasn't moving much. Oh God was all that MJ could think as she rushed down the gangway to the floating dock. She took a grappling hook from a nearby tugboat and gently maneuvered Peter to the dock. MJ heaved Peter's cold, soaking wet body from the water. His dead weight made it very difficult, but MJ wasn't to be deterred.

MJ got him on the dock and laid him across her lap. "Peter? Peter, wake up. Don't you dare die on me!" MJ kissed Peter's lips and felt a flutter of life in him. His lips were shivering. His whole body was shivering. His eyes opened and stared blankly at MJ.

"CCCoooolld" Peter stuttered, his arms coming up around his body. MJ wrapped her arms around Peter's upper body, holding him close.

"I've got to get you outta here and outta these wet clothes." MJ spoke mostly to herself, since Peter was incoherent.

MJ gently maneuvered Peter inside their apartment. MJ had flagged down a cab and gotten Peter home in record time. I'll take him the emergency room only if he gets worse, MJ thought as he rode home in the cab. The driver kept peering back curiously, watching Peter shiver.

"Bad Chinese food" MJ replied back to the cab driver's obviously relief as he shook his head in understanding.

Peter stumbled up the stairs into the bedroom. He laid him on the floor first, not wanting the bed to get wet. She quickly stripped Peter naked. She got him into bed and wrapped two comforters around his shivering form. MJ, who was now wet, quickly watched as Peter's shivering increased. She decided to get into bed with him. MJ took all her clothes off and climbed on top of Peter, sharing all her body heat with him. As MJ lay on top of Peter, his shivering lessened a bit. His icy arms wrapped around her body, seeking the warmth of her body. Despite his weakened state, his arms were powerfully strong. It took her breath away as he held her tightly. His breathing eased into the normal rhythm of sleep, occasionally a shiver would run through his body, and he would hold MJ closer. But MJ couldn't sleep, instead she prayed he would be okay, but most of all she prayed that the evil thing that attacked them wouldn't return anytime soon.