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Mary Jane lifted her face to the sunny sky, closing her eyes as she savored the feeling of the warm rays hitting her face. She laughed from pure joy, half-skipping as she moved gracefully down the sidewalk. Just another face in the crowd, and yet people stopped to smile in admiration as the young woman almost danced along the pavement, her blue-green eyes sparkling like stars, her red hair shining.

Mary Jane was happy. Completely, perfectly, serenely happy. She couldn't even remember being this happy in the entire twenty-one years of her complete existence. She just felt like… like a rainbow was shimmering in her soul. She was happier even than that morning she had run recklessly from the worst decision she had (almost) ever made, marrying a man she didn't love. And yet it was happiness with something deeper, more solemn, more profound. The dark time she was just now leaving behind her had threatened to consume her, body and soul. She had nearly lost him… the man who was her love, her life, her everything. She had almost lost him not just physically, but emotionally, mentally, spiritually… in every way. She would have died inside if that had happened.

But he had come back to her. Burst in on her miserable, dreary existence like a ray of the sun itself. Just when she was at the point in her life of giving up on love. And suddenly there he was, standing before her, holding his hand out to her, with his heart in his eyes. And the overwhelming depths of love that she saw there had washed over her soul like a healing wave. She had gone to him, slowly, but without hesitation. And he had taken her in his arms, making her world right again just with his touch and the beating of his heart against hers. No, not right again , but right in a different way. In a way it never had been before, in a way she hadn't dreamed existed.

She turned before the shabby little apartment building on Chrystie Street, in the Lower East Side of Manhattan, and flew up the steps, switching her bags to the other hand to throw the creaky old door open. The gloomy, dusty hall flooded with light as she slipped inside, mounting the stairs immediately and thundering up them as if running up thirteen flights was all in a day's work. Ha. Thirteen flights. Whoever said thirteen was an unlucky number?

"REEE… oh, excuse me." MJ turned to flash a brilliant smile at the scruffy middle-aged man who popped out of his door at lightning speed to scream at her, only to instantly change his tone as he realized who she was and nod apologetically.

"If Parker's in there, tell him he owes me a month and a half," he bellowed after her, as if changing his mind where manners were concerned. MJ didn't answer, but she paused a moment before Peter's door and turned back. Moving quickly back while simultaneously digging in her purse, she pressed a few bills into the man's grimy hand.

"Don't tell him," she said softly, her eyes dancing happily. He stared at her in amazement and nodded silently. She whirled back to Peter's door and knocked. There was no answer, but the door stood ajar and she let herself in without hesitation. She was used to him being gone. Sooner or later, he'd show up. But she couldn't resist bowing her head in a brief moment of prayer for his safety.

"Jeepers, Tiger, this room is a mess," she muttered to herself, kicking at a crumpled t-shirt and pair of jeans that lay in a heap in front of the opened window. "Well, guess I don't have anything else to do," she shrugged, tossing her light jacket onto a chair after setting her bags down on the rickety little table. She rolled up her sleeves, dug a broom out of the corner and set to work. Within the hour, the little apartment was spotless, the table set, and covered dishes laid out on it. Sighing in relief, she fell back on the couch, leaning to the side to flip aimlessly through the shelf of videos. She completely ignored the rather large collection of scientific documentaries, looking instead through his meager supply of more interesting films. "Ben-Hur, Chariots of Fire, Seabiscuit, The Princess Bride, Count of Monte Cristo…" she murmured aloud as she scanned. She didn't particularly feel in the mood for any of them.

"Oh well," she sighed, picking up an old James Bond with a shrug. She hardly paid attention to her choice as she slipped it into the player and leaned back, her eyes on the screen, but her mind elsewhere. She allowed herself to daydream, her imagination to wander, and she smiled to herself, her eyes dancing. She could hardly wait for him to return.

She didn't have long to wait. In less than an hour, she heard the skylight overhead slide slowly open and a familiar red and blue figure dropped through, landing noiselessly in an unnatural crouch, knees bent, feet wide apart, one hand resting lightly on the ground, fingers splayed out. His back was to her and she was surprised to see that he didn't seem to sense her presence. With a grin, she decided to take full advantage of the rare moment, slipping up behind him as he slowly stood. He didn't move for a moment, just stood motionless, sides heaving as he breathed heavily from exertion. In one swift motion, she reached up and yanked the mask from his head, shrieking in surprise as he jumped straight up, whirling so fast she didn't even see the motion. His face was only inches from hers, blue eyes wide with startled surprise.

"Hello, Spider-Man," she said softly, giggling as she clutched the scarlet mask. "I think I got one up on you, this time. What's happened to your spider-sense?"

"Mary Jane Watson." He closed his eyes for a moment and let out a long breath. "You scared the living daylights out of me."

"It's kinda dangerous to startle you," MJ grinned. "You're like a bomb waiting to go off. Or a coiled spring might be a more accurate comparison."

"I don't startle easily," he gave her a lopsided smile. "In a way, MJ, you've got a lot of advantages none of my enemies ever do."

"For instance?"

"Well, you're not quite frightfully ugly enough to sour milk with one glance,"

"Peter Parker! You're heartless," MJ slapped at him with the mask.

"Just kidding. You're gorgeous." He clasped an arm around her waist, planting a chaste kiss against her lips. She slipped her arms around his shoulders, wanting more, but he hissed in pain and drew back lightning-fast and she dropped her hands, filled with remorse. For the first time since he had entered, she noticed that his face was streaked with soot, perspiration dripping from his forehead and making tiny trails down his cheeks. His suit was stained and torn, even burnt away in spots, bleeding skin showing through the holes.

"You're hurt," she murmured, dropping his mask to the floor, without noticing. "Peter, what happened?"

"A fire," he answered between clenched teeth, raising a hand gingerly to his left shoulder, his face twisted in pain. "Biggest one I've ever been involved in. An entire skyscraper in flames, nearly a hundred people trapped inside."

"How are you hurt?" she pressed, staring with growing horror at his shoulder, which was hanging at an unnatural angle.

"Some burns, not too severe. A few bad cuts. And I think I dislocated this stupid shoulder," he grimaced. "Swinging home was a riot. Had to do it with one arm."

"Let me see your shoulder." She spoke firmly, willing to keep her voice from trembling. Medical situations of any kind had always made her nervous… even now a slight nauseous feeling was curling in the pit of her stomach, but she forced it down. She had thought about this long and hard… being in love with Spider-Man, she would have to learn how to help him. She wanted to help him. And she had been teaching herself how. For a while now, she had been watching videos on first aid, taking classes, building up her knowledge, just in case.

He was hesitating, staring at her in surprise. She took a deep breath, relieved and even proud of herself to feel the nausea fade away until it was completely imperceptible. She only felt calm… prepared.

"I know, I know. You've never let me help you before. But this time you're going to. Don't be so stubborn, Tiger."

Slight amusement flickered in his eyes at her words and he tugged off his gloves, biting his lip to keep back a gasp of pain as he did so. Unable to watch him struggle any longer, Mary Jane moved closer, stopping him as she laid a gentle hand on his arm.

"How do you get this thing off?" She moved behind him, fumbling at the seams on the back of his costume. He found he couldn't answer, shivers racing up and down his spine from the slightest pressure of her hands. She found the hidden zipper in a moment and was already carefully peeling the tattered spandex fabric from his shoulders, as slowly and carefully as she could.

"Wait… MJ…" he whispered, moving away slightly. She paused, looking at him questioningly.

"What is it, Tiger?"

His mind was racing, a thousand thoughts swirling at once. Although they had been dating for months, he had never before let her get this close… not in this way. She had never even seen him without his shirt on… at least, not since sixth grade swimming lessons. But he didn't voice his thoughts, only stood still, not resisting as she began tugging at the fabric again.

"That looks terrible," she murmured, shaking her head at the swollen shoulder and the bloody cuts that crisscrossed his back. She moved in front of him again to help him with the sleeves of the costume shirt and froze suddenly, her eyes widening. She had known his strength, seen the outline of his muscular frame through the tight spandex but… she still hadn't been prepared. She caught her breath at the sight of his bare chest with its powerfully-chiseled muscles, the well-defined six pack in his lean stomach.

"Wow… Tiger…" she whispered, staring at him in disbelief. "I…"

He turned away from her, color spreading rapidly over his face. He was entirely at a loss what to do or say, wishing desperately that he was back out on the roof.

"I… I'm sorry," she ducked her head, realizing his embarrassment. "I didn't mean to stare…"

"It's okay," he shook his head. "I should've taken care of this myself…"

"No, Peter. You just can't bear everything alone. No one is that strong. At some point, you're going to have to accept help from somebody. And… I want to help you. Because I love you."

He looked up at her then, smiling slowly as her eyes met his.

"Thanks," he said softly.

"Go ahead and sit down," MJ snapped into as professional a mood as she could muster as she pulled the shirt completely off and tossed it into the corner. She knelt on the floor in front of him as he sat down on the couch, steeling her nerves for what she knew must be done. "I'll see what I can do." Her gentle fingers roamed carefully over his shoulder, pressing into the swollen muscle and she frowned, biting her lip.

"I'll have to twist the joint back in place…"

"You know how to do that?" he stared at her in utter amazement and she grinned, her eyes twinkling.

"There's a lot about me you don't know, Tiger."

"A lot, eh? Should I be worried?" He matched her bantering tone.

"Yes, as a matter of fact, you should. But not in the way you think. Seriously, Peter, this is going to hurt. Bad. Think you can stand it?" As he nodded, she gripped his wrist firmly, her face white. He clenched his other hand into a fist, setting his teeth as he prepared himself. "Ready?" she barely waited for a reply as she bent his arm up at the elbow, twisting his wrist out sideways. He gasped, beads of sweat breaking out on his forehead. She drew a ragged breath, pressing her lips tight together. Every trace of color had drained from his face and he was staring unwaveringly at her, his eyes wide and filled with pain. In one quick motion, she twisted his arm back, snapping the bone in place as he cried out, bending over nearly double. She threw her arms around him, helping him lean back against the couch as he panted, eyes shut tight, his head drooping in relief.

"It… already… feels better," he murmured weakly. "Thanks, MJ."

"I should put it in a sling."

"No… no… it'll be fine now. It should heal in just a few hours. It isn't a break or a cut, so it'll be faster."

She nodded, starting to draw back, realizing she was still pressed close against him, afraid to embarrass him again.

"It's… it's okay, MJ," he whispered. "Really." She leaned forward again, holding him close. He was trembling, perspiration still trickling down his face. She held him until his breathing seemed to return to normal and his shoulders stopped shaking.

"Are you alright?" she reached up to brush the damp dark hair back from his forehead. He nodded, still pale. Automatically, she reached for the jacket she had left on the chair, gently wiping the soot and sweat from his face. His eyes half-closed at her touch, and she dropped the jacket, laying her hand against his cheek. His lips parted as he inhaled sharply and he leaned forward, bending his head towards hers.

"Careful," she murmured as his lips brushed softly against hers. "Your shoulder." He didn't answer as he pressed his mouth firmly on hers and she responded to his kiss eagerly, reaching up to encircle her arms around his neck. When at last they broke apart, only because of the need for air, she moved to sit on the couch beside him, her entire being still vibrating with the intensity of his kiss. Every little touch seemed to electrify her until every nerve in her body was on fire.

He turned sideways to face her, smiling in that adorable lopsided way… so awkward and endearing. She reached out without thinking, tracing lines down his breastbone with a tentative finger. Suddenly feeling bold, she laid her fingertips and then her whole hand against his chest. She felt the shudder that ran through his entire body, smiling at the look that filled his eyes. She slid her hand across his chest, feeling with awe the iron strength beneath the firm, smooth skin, moving up towards his good shoulder. She let her hand rest there a moment, massaging the tight muscles gently, feeling the tension slowly fade. He sighed in relief, leaning forward until his head rested on her shoulder. She reached behind him, working her way across his shoulders and down his back, still lightly massaging as she felt his muscles relax. He seemed to be nearly asleep and she wondered how exhausted he must be.

"Feeling up to supper?" she asked softly, hating to spoil the moment and yet knowing he must be starved. She didn't exactly relish the thought of the meal getting stone-cold either.

"Man, MJ… I could eat a horse," he laughed, although he made no attempt to move.

"Why don't you go get changed, and then we can eat?" she pulled away, raising him gently. "I brought a chicken and rice casserole… one of Aunt May's recipes."

"You don't have to tell me twice," he grinned, standing quickly and vanishing into the other room before she had time to rise herself. He was back in less than a minute, having changed into jeans and a plain, long-sleeved buttoned shirt. Having no need to be careful, he hadn't taken the time to conceal his suit and she could make out plainly the faint ridges that the webbing made beneath the fabric of his shirt… could even see the high red collar showing through where he had left the last couple of buttons undone.

"You must have more than one suit?"

"I have three. Well… two now, until I can get that thing fixed," he nodded ruefully toward the crumpled costume shirt in the corner. "Man, this looks amazing," he sniffed appreciatively as MJ uncovered the casserole dish, steam rising from the still-warm dinner.

"Well, dig in, Tiger!" she grinned. "I made plenty!"

Having grown accustomed to his ravenous diet in the months they had been together, MJ wasn't in the least surprised when he ate the entire casserole, except for the small portion she had saved for herself. He had also eaten half the salad, three of the rolls, and a half-dozen of the cookies Aunt May had sent along. But not being surprised didn't keep her from poking fun at him, as usual. He only smiled at her teasing.

"Now that you've finished stuffing that bottomless pit you call your stomach," MJ snickered. "What was it you wanted to show me tonight?" At her simple question, a look passed over his face that she had only seen once before… the night she had met him at the Restaurant Constellation. He had looked just that same way when she walked in… and then she had ruined the mood, she had been so mad at him… she winced mentally, turning away from the memory. He had been planning something special that night and she had spoiled it. Well, it definitely wouldn't happen again.

"I wanted to take you somewhere. But the only place to get there is the ol' Spidey Express."

"My favorite way to travel," MJ beamed, her heart racing at the thought. But then her face fell. "Oh, Peter, your shoulder! You can't…"

"Good as new and maybe better," he grinned, flexing his arm. "Told you I heal fast. Just a bit sore, but not enough to keep me from swinging. Thanks again, MJ."

"Let's go then!" MJ bit her lip in anticipation as he moved over to the window, stripping off his shirt and jeans in mere moments. She found his mask where she had dropped it earlier beside the couch and slipped it over his head, eyepieces in the back. She couldn't see his face but she knew the look he was giving her beneath the fabric and she clapped a hand to her mouth to stifle her laughter.

"Seriously, MJ? You want me to swing like this? Sure, fine. We can end up scrambled eggs on the side of a building somewhere. Sounds good to me."

"Calm down, Tiger," MJ was still laughing. "I'll fix it… there." she twisted the mask around until the eyepieces were in place. "Can you see now?"

He shook his head at her as he threw the window open, stepping up on the sill and holding his hand out to her. She forced her laughter down and took his hand, mounting the sill beside him. The wind was kicking up speed, blowing wildly at the two daring figures perched so high above the ground. MJ fumbled in her jeans pocket for a hair tie as he pulled on his gloves, pushing her loose hair back in a ponytail. The last time he had taken her swinging, her hair blowing in his eyes had nearly caused a crash. He reached out to her and she threw her arms around his neck. He lifted her off her feet and she wrapped her legs around his waist, her stomach throwing somersaults in anticipation.

"What are you doing?" she asked suddenly as he crossed his wrists behind her back. She could hear the soft thwp of his webs as she felt something wrapping around her waist.

"Just thought of something," he straightened and stepped back farther on the windowsill. "I just webbed us together. It'll be safer that way. Are y' ready, MJ?"

"Ready, Tiger." she answered eagerly, tightening her hold around his neck. In another moment, he had leaped into space and they were falling faster than the speed of a shooting star. She shrieked, not from fear, but pure delight as, moments before they hit the ground, they were soaring up again, towards the clouds. Falling and flying, falling and flying, the crazy pattern settled into an easy rhythm. Mary Jane forced her eyes open, peering over his shoulder at the ground beneath them as it grew closer and then disappeared into the distance as they swung wildly through the concrete canyons of Manhattan. For only a moment she stared at the ground. It made her dizzy. She directed her eyes toward the blue sky, slowly growing dim as the sun began to set in the west. And then she looked up at his face just above hers, obscured by the red fabric of the expressionless mask. It no longer seemed so blank to her, though, for in the last few months she had learned to read his every movement until she knew exactly what he was thinking. Strange how the hero of mystery had vanished… becoming so dear, so familiar as his form merged in her mind with that of the man she loved.

He bent his head toward her for a moment and she could hear his words just barely above the roaring of the wind in her ears.

"How's it going?"

"Wonderful!" she cried back. The scenery flashed by, seeming suddenly almost commonplace to her now. She had seen it many times before. And she realized that the thrill of being up there was being so close to the man she loved. With a happy sigh, she nestled her head against his chest, hearing the strong beating of his heart beneath the symbol of the black spider. Though precariously suspended hundreds of feet above the ground and moving faster than any human ever should, she felt encompassed with an overwhelming feeling of safety. He would never, ever let her fall.

"Last stop! We're coming in for a landing!" Peter cried as he braced himself for the impact. MJ closed her eyes shut as she held on tighter, holding her breath as she felt him come in contact with solid surface. He ran a few steps, letting the speed out, and came to a complete stop. As he snapped the webs that held them together, she opened her eyes and gasped in surprise.

"You… brought me here again?" she breathed, her heart still pounding violently after the wild ride.

"Sure beats taking the subway, doesn't it?" he laughed in reminiscence of that long-ago day.

"Sure does, Tiger," she grinned as he set her on her feet. It was beautiful… truly beautiful… that hidden garden so far in the sky. No one else was even in sight… just her and Peter up there in an almost magical surrounding of green grass and trees, sparkling fountains and a rainbow of flowers. Like a tiny fairyland.

"Hey. Close your eyes. No peeking," he waved an admonishing finger at her and she complied, giggling, as she covered her face. She could hear the thwps of his webs and wondered what on earth he was doing. Although it was less than a minute, it seemed an eternity before she felt his hand on her arm, turning her around.

"Alright, now you can look." She gasped, clutching her hand to her heart at the sight that met her eyes. There, suspended between two trees, hung a glittering, gossamer web, delicately and intricately designed. Worked into the silken strands were the words "I love you, Mary Jane."

"You… did this…" she whispered in awe, her eyes filling with tears. He pulled his gloves off, tossing them aside as he took her hand in both of his and knelt before her on the grass. Everything inside of her seemed to stop at that moment as she realized what he was doing. Her breath caught in her throat, her heart stopped beating, her eyes opened wide as she stared at him, scarcely believing what she was seeing. Her dream coming true right before her eyes. As if on cue, she reached out with a trembling hand, slowly pulling his mask away. His deep eyes were all the shades of blue, all at once and she felt as if she could drown in them. Time ceased to even exist… there was nothing… nothing at all but him and her, alone on a rooftop with the setting sun spreading purple and gold fire across the evening sky.

"Mary Jane Watson," he murmured, his voice shaking. "I… I've loved you all my life. I always have and I always will. Will you… marry me?"

His question was simple and yet it held a world of joy. Mary Jane gazed down at him, longing to stretch that moment into an eternity. His heart was in his eyes… spilled out for her to see… and the love he had for her was more than she could begin to fathom. And her love for him was the same. A simple question it was… and so she gave a simple answer.

"Yes." She paused a moment, watching with delight the unexplainable joy flooding his face and she could hold back no longer. She reiterated her answer, over and over as she flung herself into his arms, burying her face in his shoulder.

"Yes, yes, yes! A thousand times, yes, Tiger… yes, with all my heart and soul." He bent his head over hers and she could feel him pressing kisses into her hair again and again. Their arms around each other, they slowly stood together and then, for one moment, pulled apart. He cupped her chin in his hand and gazed at her, his blue eyes seeming to pierce into her soul.

"Thank you, Mary Jane Watson."

In another moment, their lips met and the kiss was unlike any they had ever known before. Neither could bear to pull away. MJ could feel everything inside of herself responding to him in a way it never had before. It was like fire inside of her being. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing her hand against the back of his head, pulling him closer as she silently begged him not to stop. It felt so right… so perfect. The two of them seemed as one, pressed close together in that one perfect, beautiful moment. She could feel his heart thudding against hers like cannon fire and she gasped as he pulled away for just a moment, his lips pressed harder against hers in the next moment, and her heart nearly burst with love. It was almost too much… the overwhelming rush of love that she felt. But still she pressed closer to him, hardly daring to believe that this moment was real.

And just like that, it was over.

Just like that fatal day on which she had told him that she needed him… that she would be with him, whatever the costs, he pulled away, his head jerking back, his eyes wide with alarm. In the street below was the sound of sirens and her heart sank. For an instant, she thought wildly of grabbing onto him, of begging him not to go, not to leave her. But the words died before they reached her lips. She was nodding, smiling at him, as she spoke her bravest words.

"Go get 'em, Tiger."

His eyes shone brightly with love and admiration, pride and relief, all mixed together as he snatched up his gloves and mask.

"I'll be back for you, as soon as I can."

Mary Jane watched him go, willing her heart not to break, summoning all of her courage. And suddenly the words that echoed through her mind made perfect sense.

To have and to hold from this day forward,

He slid his mask over his face and she smiled at him, a brave and yet bittersweet smile.

For better or for worse,

He spun around, running across the rooftop as she stood still, clenching her hands at her sides.

For richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health,

He took a flying leap, launching out into the air. At the last moment, she ran towards the edge of the garden wall.

To love and to cherish,

She smiled at his wild whoop as he fired a webline and swung up across the chasm below.

And forsaking all others, keep thee only unto him for as long as you both shall live.

"Yes," she whispered, tears filling her eyes as she watched him swing out of sight. "I do."