Peter opened the door, knocking. "Anybody home?"

"In here, Peter," a voice called from the kitchen. He closed the door behind himself and strolled in.

"How is my favorite lady this morning?" Peter asked with a grin as he opened his arms.

The frail old woman in the kitchen gave him a hug, and squeezed him for a moment. Then she stepped back.

"Why Peter," she said, "you look positively radiant. What's going on?"

"I'm engaged to Mary Jane!" Peter said with a grin. "I'm going to be married, Aunt May!"

"Oh, Peter," she glowed, "that's wonderful news! When did you propose?"

"Last night," Peter said, letting the truth bend a little for the sake of the moment.

"Well, I knew it would happen," Aunt May said primly. "I've got something for you that I've been saving for this day."

xXx

"It's my grandmother's engagement band," Peter explained as Mary Jane looked into the old ring box. "I mean, I wasn't really ready to hand you a ring when you proposed to me."

"You were sort of in your underwear," Mary Jane said slyly. Then she looked at the ring. It was gold, not at all fancy, a simple modest diamond. "I think it's perfect, Peter," she said, and she gave him a hug. "This is going to make things a lot less awkward. I figured we'd go ring shopping today, but that's pretty well fixed that."

"I'm glad you like it," Peter said with a tinge of relief.

"If I was in it for the engagement rock, I'd have stayed with Harry," Mary Jane said archly. "I think it's sweet that you gave me your grandma's ring. Now. I think we should get married on November first."

"Uh, that's three weeks away," Peter said, startled.

"Exactly," Mary Jane said with a nod. "I want to keep this simple, low fuss, quick, and cheap. After all, I'm in it for you, big guy. And the way you live, I want to get married sooner rather than later in case somebody cripples or kills one of us." She smiled at him sweetly.

"When you're right, you're right," Peter shrugged.

"And believe me, Parker, she's right," Mordred giggled as he watched them closely in his scrye. "A wedding! Such a happy occasion! Everyone will be there!" He steepled his fingers, leaning back. "Now. How can I use this?"

He swiftly stood and strode over to his stone circle. He picked up the knuckle bones. "Parker," he breathed. He tossed the knucklebones. They scattered, and he examined them closely. "Hm," he said, tracing along one of the family lines. "Interesting." He chose one of the bones, then threw the batch again.

"Grandfather, eh?" he mused, a smile growing on his face as he examined the new circle of divination. "Fascinating…" The scrye remained open in the background, he half listened to their insipid chatter.

"So we've got Tandy and Tyrone as bridesmaid and groomsman," Mary Jane said, laying on her stomach on the bed and kicking her bare feet lazily as she tapped her pen against her teeth. She glanced down at her spiral notebook. "I want Gwen for my matron of honor. God, that woman is such a matron."

Peter grinned. "Yeah."

"So who do you want to be your best man?" she asked.

Peter walked over to the window and looked out for a long moment. "I don't know," he said quietly. "I've put a lot of thought into it. I know Doug isn't going to want a public role in all this, Strange is too weird and old and stuff. Logan left without a forwarding address and I wouldn't trust him or Kravinoff to behave at a public event anyway. When I think through my friends…" he shook his head. Then he turned and leaned against the windowframe, frankly meeting Mary Jane's eyes.

"I think I know where this is going," she said coolly.

"I talked to Harry," Peter said. "I know first hand what the darkstone can do, how it can whisper to you, what it can drive you to do. And he's free of it. He's made his mistakes. But, dammit, I want to believe in him. I need to believe in him."

"So you want Harry Osborn as your best man," Mary Jane said.

"Yes," Peter said. "How do you feel about that?"

She rolled over on her back and looked up at the ceiling. "How do I feel about that," she wondered. "Well, I did date him. I know him as well as anybody. And he's done a lot of growing up. We've had a lot of good times. But he still creeps me out after… what happened in the restaurant. I don't know what to think."

"You two would never be alone together," Peter said. "Maybe this is a good way to rebuild trust."

She rolled over and met his eyes. "Aren't you a bit uncomfortable about having him as best man? Since we were a couple not too long ago?"

Peter shook his head. "I was there during that relationship. I know what you two had. I know what we have. It just isn't the same thing," Peter said quietly.

"That's awfully grown up of you," Mary Jane said reflectively.

"You and me. It's right. I think you're over Harry."

"I am," Mary Jane said. "Okay. He can be in the wedding party. Now I've made a concession so it's your turn to make the rest of them," she said with a wicked grin. "You get to pick out the church and arrange the honeymoon."

"Get a church for All Saints Day," Peter said. "Check."

"You realize it's the day after Halloween, so all masks get put away for this," Mary Jane said.

"I know that," Peter said. He paused. "You don't expect me to retire the mesh for good, do you?"

"No," she said firmly. "I fell in love with you because you're this dangerous hero guy, among other things. I know you'd just shrivel up and die if you didn't get to go mach nine with your hair on fire every now and then."

"Cool," Peter grinned.

"Just keep it to a dull roar around the wedding, please," Mary Jane admonished sternly. "Can we please minimize the weirdness for that one day?"

"I'll marry you or die trying," Peter said seriously. Then he grinned. "Speaking of weirdness, time to take a crack at the guest list. We have to get invites out there."

"Three weeks to do everything," Mary Jane mused, shaking her head. "I'm insane."

"Well, yeah, but we'll do it. Because this wedding is going to be my finest moment, when I pull it off."

"Your finest?" Mary Jane said innocently. "Better than breaking a major crime boss?"

"Oh yeah."

"Better than corralling mystic freak jobs?"

"Definitely."

She grinned at him. "Better than hanging upside down in the subway taking pictures of trains?"

Silence.

She arched an eyebrow.

"Gimmie a minute to think it over!" he protested. Then he relented. "Yeah. Way better than that even."

"Good," Mary Jane said brightly. "Then you won't mind coming with me to pick out dresses tomorrow." Peter groaned, and dropped to the floor and crawled under the bed. Mary Jane hung her head down over the side, her hair brushing the floor as she peered into the shadows where he hid.

"It's not so bad," she said relentlessly. "We can pick out tuxes too. And how do you feel about roses?"

"Poor," he whined from the shadows under the bed. "Roses make me feel poor."

Mary Jane laughed her best evil genius laugh.

xXx

Illyana was draped across the couch in Strange's parlor. The lights were low, her hooves dangled off the end of the couch, her tail was slung over the back, and she munched away with a spoon and a jar of crunchy peanut butter.

Strange walked in and stood behind the couch, looking at the television. "How are you feeling?" he asked.

"Better," she said. "I got some comfort food and a movie with Leonardo diCaprio sans shirt. Right about now Prime is the place to be."

Strange chuckled. "I'm going upstairs to do some work for the Planetary. Let me know if you need anything."

"Check," she said. "Any luck finding Mordred?"

"He's not on Prime," Strange shrugged. "I can begin sweeping dimensions looking for him, but he relocates fairly frequently, and he's skilled at hiding." Strange sighed. "I might be better off waiting for him to make another move."

"We'll kick his pointy butt," Illyana said confidently.

"I certainly hope you're right," Strange said with a fond smile. "See you tomorrow."

Strange ghosted out, and Illyana sighed and snuggled down into the couch, daintily kicking a hoof. "Life has been good to me," she reflected.

The phone rang, and she picked it up. "Strange residence, Illyana attending," she said politely.

"Illyana, this is Peter. I was hoping you'd pick up," he said.

"You were?" she said cautiously.

"Yes," Peter said. "You know how you agreed to help with the wedding. We need a coordinator. Will you do that for us?"

"You bet," Illyana said. "I like Mary Jane. She seems cool, if a little misguided. You I'm still not sure about. You seem like kind of a dweeb."

"So it's gonna be like that. Fine. At you're honest," Peter muttered. "I'm so glad you'll help. We get started tomorrow."

"What's up?" she said.

"I want you to meet my Aunt May and check out the church we're going to try to get. So we can do all that at once if you come to church with Aunt May and me."

"Ouch," she said.

"What," Peter said. "You don't think the reverend would relish the opportunity to preach to a demon sorceress?"

"Definitely a dweeb," Illyana sighed. "But I said I'd help and I will."

"If you could pick me up at seven thirty we can go surprise my Aunt May and take it from there," Peter said with an audible grin.

"How should I dress?" Illyana asked innocently. "Tail, horns, hooves, armor, sword, pointy teeth, the usual?"

"You might not fit in," Peter said delicately. "Nothing racy. Pretend you are three times your age and fashion impaired and you'll fit right in."

"Ooh," Illyana said with a delighted wince. "Score one for the choir boy. This might be fun after all."

xXx

Aunt May answered the doorbell, puzzled as to who could be at her door. She opened it and her face lit up as she saw Peter in a suit.

"Hello, Peter," she said. "And who is this?"

"This is Illyana Rasputin. She's going to be the wedding planner for me and MJ. I thought it would be a good idea for her to meet you."

"Come in, come in," Aunt May said as she stood back and let the two young adults into the living room. "Pleased to meet you, Ms. Rasputin. I've just got another thing or two to finish up and I'll be ready to go."

"Take your time," Peter said, pretending to glance at his watch. "We're early." Aunt May scurried off into the kitchen.

"You definitely look like a dweeb today," Illyana said, glancing over Peter's distinctly boring and ill fitting gray suit. "You even have a tie tack. I didn't know people actually wore tie tacks."
"Too much time hanging out with hippie wizards," Peter grinned at her. "Hey. If this suit was serviceable in the late eighties it should still serve."

"I hate men's fashion," Illyana sniffed. "It's not fair."

"You look good today," Peter said. Illyana's square cut bangs had been curled, her hair up in a bun. She wore a simple knee length dress with a modest floral print, hose, and low heel pumps. Her sleeves extended down to her wrists.

"Thrift store shopping," Illyana said with a shrug. "I took you at your word."

Peter quickly hid his laugh as his aunt scurried back into the living room. "All ready to go," she said brightly. "Your dress is lovely," she added with a warm smile at Illyana, who had the grace to nod her thanks with a smile.

xXx

"You've had enough training," Mordred said to the wino he had rescued from the alleyway. "You look a bit more presentable than you once did."

The man that stood before him wore a long coat over his heavyset body. His hair was peculiar and wild, sweeping up and away from his square, pudgy face. He wore a pair of goggles over his eyes. When he smiled, his sharp teeth were revealed.

"Thank you, Mathter," the apprentice replied.

"Are you ready for your mission?" Mordred asked in the condescending tone a parent would use with a small child.

His apprentice nodded.

"What is your name?" Mordred asked as it occurred to him he did not know.

"I am the Owl," his apprentice replied.

A slow smile uncurled on Mordred's face. "Very well, The Owl," he said, "my divination indicated that you know both Strange and Parker."

"Parker," the Owl hissed with distaste. "Thtrange."

"You will not be observed, or your handiwork observed, by either of them," Mordred said. "Instead, you will follow my instructions to unleash someone else that will. You must not be suspected, much less caught. You are a part of my overall scheme on Prime. Do you understand me?"

The Owl nodded vigorously.

"Good," Mordred said. "Let's return to Prime."

xXx

The organ was playing the postlude when Peter and Illyana and Aunt May were in the receiving line after the service.

"I may never forgive you," Illyana said under her breath at a volume she knew he could hear.

Peter just grinned. It was his turn to talk to the preacher.

"Reverend Eckridge," he said warmly. "Great sermon. Hey, do you have a minute so we could talk when you're done here?"

"Certainly," replied the reverend. He was short, with a combover hairdo and a heavyset build. His face beamed with general benign goodwill. Peter nodded, shook his hand, and stepped on down the line.

"Charmed," Illyana said shortly, allowing the reverend to shake her hand and giving him a brief smile that stopped just short of frosty.

She cornered Peter at the other end of the foyer. "Parker," she said, "I've been through a number of dimensions and I've seen zealotry and this is a very pale and watery shade of it."

"Down girl," Peter said with a grin. "I keep forgetting you were raised by wolves."

She glared at him playfully for a moment. "I get it," she said. "This is all because I called you a dweeb, isn't it."

"Pretty much," Peter nodded, trying to keep his grin under control. "If the shoe fits, right?"