Sorry it's taken me so long to get this out, but this chapter just really didn't wanna be written. (That or I wasn't really in a 'writing' mood, but who's to say). Anyways, hope you like it, enjoy what's basically 1,000 words of Eddie and Venom bantering (with a bit of Mary and Peter sprinkled in).

Eddie sighs in frustration, closing his laptop and leaning back, holding his arm over his eyes.

Having trouble?

"You know I am, asshole. And it's your fault."

What do you mean? Venom asks, feigning innocence.

"Ah, can it. If you hadn't gone in all guns blazing, I'd've gotten to interview some of those guys."

Blame the Spiderling. We were going to let you talk to the ones we did not eat, but he interrupted.

"V, I know you don't wanna hear this, but some things are more important than food. Like money, so we can eat stuff like chocolate and tater tots."

Venom grumbles discontentedly, having no better response.

"That's what I thought. Now, either I need a new story, or we've gotta figure out a way to salvage this one."

Hm, we don't really want to go looking for a new story.

"Okay then. Any ideas?"

No, but we will think about it.

"You get right on that, V," Eddie says offhandedly, not really expecting anything.

A few fruitless minutes later, Venom finally asks, Do you not have any contacts around here? Surely not all of them hate you.

"Eh, I didn't keep in touch with them."

Why not?

"Didn't have a reason. I left, so I didn't need anything on New York anymore."

There has to be someone.

"Hm . . . well there's one, but I don't even know if he's here right now. And this seems pretty low level for him, so I doubt he'd have anything useful."

So we are back at square one?

"Yep."

Venom groans and Eddie feels them swirling around his chest, which only happened when they were feeling particularly disgruntled.

"Look, why don't I just find another story. This is New York, there's things happening every second."

No. Don't feel like moving.

"V, we've gotta get up eventually."

We know.

Eddie sighs. There wasn't really any point in arguing, so he just lay back and let his mind drift.

When noon finally rolled around, Mary emerged from her bedroom.

"Where were you? It's late," Eddie says, glancing up at her.

"Enjoying my free time, it is the weekend after all," she replies, opening her fridge. "You want anything for lunch?"

Tater tots.

"No, V. We need real food."

"Real food?" Mary says dubiously, eyeing what she had. "I dunno if I got that, but I do have some microwave lasagna."

"That's fine, we're not really hungry anyways."

She gives him an odd look before shaking her head and taking out the packages, putting one in the microwave.

"Thanks," Eddie says as Mary sits down on the other side of the couch

"That one's mine, dude. You want food, microwave it yourself."

"Pleeease," Eddie says, vying for her attention.

She steadfastly ignores him, turning on the TV and opening Netflix.

We can get it Eddie.

"No, she could see you."

"See what?" Mary asks, not looking up.

"Nothing!" he says quickly.

She glances at him and raises an eyebrow. "Eddie, I know I don't tell you this enough, but you're an awful liar."

"Whaaat?" Eddie says, "I am a . . . great liar."

"Whatever you say," she mutters, rolling her eyes.

A few minutes later, the timer dings and Mary gets up.

"Oh, good God," she mutters. "I can't believe they're at it again."

"What?"

"The Daily Bugle, they're badmouthing Spider-Man again."

"Yeah, I think I heard something about it. J. Jonah Jameson doesn't like him much, apparently."

"I don't get why, he's just trying to help."

"Eh, I dunno. Just one of those things."

"Still sucks," she says, sitting back down on the couch, lasagna and newspaper in hand.

Eddie nods in agreement with her. It was pretty sad, considering Spider-Man seemed like a nice kid.

We could change that.

"Change what?"

The Daily Bugle's projection of him.

He glances at Mary, who was pointedly ignoring him.

"Look, V," he mutters, getting off the couch and walking to the kitchen, where his phone was plugged in, "we really shouldn't do this in front of Mary. She already thinks I'm crazy enough as is."

But we need to talk, I have an idea about your story.

"Which is why I'm doing this," Eddie whispers, picking up his phone. "Hey, Victor, how's it goin' man, it's been so long."

Eddie, what are you doing?

"Just play along," he hisses. "Yeah, you know, this and that. So, why're you calling? Somethin' goin' on?"

Um . . . how about in your article, you frame the Spiderling in a positive light. Opposite of the Bugle's usual portrayal.

"Really? I mean, that's a . . . semi-decent idea, I guess. But you do know who we're presenting this to, right? Do you really think they'll take it?"

All we can do is try. No such thing as can't, remember.

"Hey, what have I said about using the things I say against me."

Not to.

"Exactly. Now, you have an interesting idea, but how am I supposed to write it? 'Spider-Man Stops Arms Deal Under Williamsburg Bridge', big whoop."

Interview him, we do have his number.

"No we . . . oh, yeah, forgot about that. That still makes for a pretty boring interview. Unless . . ."

We ask about us. He already knows we were there, so we just ask him about 'Venom' and how he heroically took us down.

"V, I cannot tell you how spectacularly horrible that idea is. Wait, let me try. That is the literal worst thing you could've said, nothing tops it. We can't do that."

I thought there was no such thing—

"Don't even think about saying it, we just went over this."

It is the best idea you have.

"No, the better option is finding a new story."

We want to do a story on the Spiderling.

"No, you want to do a story on him. I'm staying out of this."

It will be fun. We can also see how much he knows about us. Gather intel.

"That's . . . actually not that bad an idea. Fine. I'll go along with this, but only because you screwed up last night and now we need to see if he's found out anything, or told the Avengers something."

Great. We should call him soon.

"Yeah, yeah, I know. Just let me get the article lined out, then we can prepare interview questions."

We can help with that.

"Sure, V. Whatever you want. I'll talk to you later, bye," Eddie says, taking his phone away from his ear.

"You and your friend have a nice chat?" Mary asks, pausing her show and turning to look at him.

"Yeah, we were just talking about the story I'm workin' on for the Bugle."

"Uh-huh. Didn't know you knew a guy named 'Victor'."

"Yeah, he's a friend from San Francisco."

"He here now? In New York?"

"Nah, he's just giving me some advice."

"Really? 'Cause I noticed you using a lot of 'we's'. As in the both of you."

"Uh . . ."

"Listen, Eddie, what's goin' on? I'm not as dumb as you seem to think I am, somethin's up."

"It's just really hard to explain—"

"Doesn't seem that hard to me, just say it."

"It's a long story . . ."

"I've got time."

"I just . . . look, I can tell you later, but right now I've gotta work on my article, okay?"

Mary narrows her eyes. "Fine. But I will make you keep that promise. I'm just worried about you, Eddie. I mean, I hear nothing from you for years, and suddenly you want a vacation after some evil company did . . . something to you. You haven't even told me about that yet."

"I know, and I will tell you. Later. I just really need to finish this right now."

She sighs. "Yeah, yeah. But tomorrow, you're gonna let me in on whatever's goin' on with you."

"Yep. Tomorrow."

"And no skipping out."

"What, I wouldn't do that."

She gives him a look before rolling her eyes and going back to her show.

Looks like the Klyntar is out of the bag.

"Not yet, she—wait, what did you say?"

Klyntar. In reference to us, playing on the usual saying about cats.

"Oh. I didn't . . . okay then." Eddie shakes his head and grabs his laptop. He didn't really feel like being with Mary right now, so it was time to go mooch off the Wi-Fi of whatever coffee place caught his eye.

We don't like coffee, Venom grumbles.

"Yeah, well, tough luck," Eddie says, opening the door and walking out.

. . .

Peter Parker was having a good day. This wasn't entirely uncommon, considering his after-school activities, but he still appreciated them.

It had been a pretty easy day, not much crime to speak of. This would usually have disappointed him, but right now Peter was just glad for the chance to take a breather. He had a lot of homework to do tonight, so the faster his patrol was over, the better.

He was about ready to start swinging home, hopeful that the mostly non-existent crime that day would hold, when Karen told him someone was calling.

"Who is it?"

"It is an unknown number, but I can trace the person behind it if you want."

"Um, sure."

"Okay. Tracing, tracing . . . the number belongs to one Eddie Brock, former journalist and star of The Brock Report in San Francisco. You interacted with him a few days ago and rescued him from a rooftop. Would you like to accept the call?"

"Sure, why not." Karen lets the call go through and Peter says, "Hello?"

"Uh, hey, Spider-Man?" Eddie asks.

"You got him, what's up?"

"Yeah, it's, um, Eddie Brock. You saved me from a rooftop a few days ago."

"I remember. So, what do you need? Not stuck on another roof, I hope."

"Nah, me 'nd my s/o got everything sorted out—Shh, I'm getting to that."

The last part wasn't said to him, Peter was sure of that. He was pretty sure he'd heard Eddie talking to himself on that rooftop, and even in the Bugle, so he wasn't that surprised. Heck, he wasn't the first person he'd come across that talked to themselves.

"Anyways," Eddie continues, "We were wondering if you would do an interview with us. I'm a journalist, and I'm doing a freelance story about those guys you took down last night under the Williamsburg Bridge."

Well, that was very unexpected.

"Um, you want to interview me?" Peter wasn't sure if he was supposed to be flattered or against the idea entirely. But if Eddie really had been there, maybe he could shed some light on that 'Venom' character.

"Yeah, nothing big, just to kinda fill in some holes in the story. Get your side of how things went down."

"I'll agree on one condition."

"What?"

"That I get to ask you some questions too."

There's a long silence, only marginally broken by muffled conversation on the other end of the line.

Eventually, Eddie says, "Deal. Any particular place you wanna meet up, or is anywhere good for you?"

"Uh . . . anywhere, I guess."

"Great, I'll text you the address. Bye, Spidey."

Peter blinks, a little thrown by the nickname. "Yeah, goodbye."

The call hangs up and he just sits there for a few seconds, unsure what he'd just gotten himself into. Karen notifies him of a text a minute-ish later and it's from Eddie, listing the address of some coffee place in Manhattan.

Deciding that in the long run, this was probably gonna be the only lead he'd get on Venom, Peter takes a deep breath and leaps off the building.