Creepy Crawlies (Ms. Tarantula x Spider!Reader)

Contemplation

Marmalade's house had a much less calming presence after you heard that Diane was going to be there, turning into a place you wanted to be far away from.

Diane Foxington being angry was a scary sight, and you? Wanted no part of it. But, you had to. Because someone couldn't steal guinea pigs.

It was a double edged sword at this point. You knew about the weakness of the team, that being guinea pigs. But the current predicament of Diane being in a less than pleasant mood might result in your current job being compromised. It really depended on whether you could take the Bad Guys in before the chief. A potential result, but it was a result you definitely didn't want.

Sometimes it felt dull. Doing the same dance over and over and returning to normalcy after a week or two trying to kill some radical terrorist or corrupt dictator, stealing a international superweapon and getting a few thousand dollars. It sometimes didn't feel quite right, with some jobs leading to a night of coffee and thinking on your bed. But most of the time, the target was eliminated very quickly, requiring only the click of a trigger. But this time, instead of looking through the scope of a Barrett M82, you were running around trying to keep a guinea pig safe while trying to reform them. You could only wonder what would happen next as everyone waited for what could happen next. For Mom's sake, I guess.

"Trespassing, burglary, mayhem, assault with a deadly reptile?!" Diane gripped the newspaper tightly, as you and the Bad Guys remained silent, the Bad Guys smiling to try and calm her down, somehow. "As if those poor rodents haven't been through enough already!"

You sighed, a migraine building on the back of your head. Despite the amount of time you had spent with Diane, she was annoying in the worst places, at the worst times possible.

"Look, Diane, please." Marmalade pleaded, before he was interrupted by Diane. "I'm sorry Professor, but I'm calling the chief." The professor followed after, pleading for a second chance, while you sat down on the counter top.

Snake and Wolf bickered silently as I poured myself a cup of chardonnay. A tiny cup, but it was medium sized relative to me. Chardonnay was one of the things that got rid of stress, close second to coffee. I wasn't an addict to either of the drinks, because I only drink occasionally.

The lights in the mansion were incredibly bright, potentially attracting a moth or two, given the design of the house.

"Time to launch a charm offensive." Mr. Wolf straightened the collar of his onesie, as if it was a business suit. I scooted over to Ms. Tarantula, who was sitting down, seemingly in deep thought.

"So..."

"Not now, Y/N."

"Is your real name Tara?" The question snapped her out of her thinking face, seemingly confused by the question.

"You don't know my real name?"

"When I saw you with your group, I automatically assumed that Tara was fake. But, now I have the opportunity to ask." I took a sip from the drink, crossing one of eight legs.

Ms. Tarantula sighed, seemingly tired. I felt the same, of course. Hadn't been sleeping much ever since this whole thing started.

"Tara is my real name, yes. But it's been years since someone even called me that, so I go by Webs now." Ms. Tarantula fiddled with the fur inside the onesie, while I thought about it.

The guest room was a small room, definitely smaller than your hotel room, or your apartment room, but technically large by your standards. It had a bed, a table and chair, both looking like some modern art monstrosity, and white like snow, exactly the same from the rest of the building.

A silent calm passed over me as I sat down on the chair, holding your drink, which was now empty. Well...I knew her name now. It was calming, for some reason. Perhaps it was because of the new sense of familiarity, that the sharing of this secretive and intimate knowledge, like she had trusted me...knowing that it would never be anything like that.

The nights of lonely silence were different, merely waiting for the target to be seen. This night...was different.

The morning sun slipped over the horizon, sharing its warmth to the Earth, me by extent. This flash of warmth woke me up, making me feel like I had just shedded another exoskeleton, like I was young again. Of course, the wine I drank last night gave me a head splitting headache in the morning, but I had dealt with that sort of thing multiple times. Still, it wasn't like an immunity.

Once I had stumbled out with my phone, I sat down at the kitchen table, ready to cook myself food. Before that, I was on my phone and saw something quite interesting. Mr. Wolf saved a cat? Last night? How did I miss that? According to the news, it was recorded sometime around 11 last night. I was asleep at the time.

Well, this was certainly confusing. Genuine progress has been made? They were being...good? Impossible. But, in the video, it clearly showed Wolf saving it. It had to be faked, right?

I tried not to think about it while making my own breakfast. Usually, at the hotel, I would go downstairs and the food would be precooked, but the occasional location transfer led me to learn how to cook stuff for myself.

Despite that, my size meant that cooking was still difficult, though I had gotten used to it by then. After cooking and eating some pancakes, I had returned back into the thinking mood.

Upon further investigation, which was actually just a quick few seconds of searching, the video came from Marmalade's account, which means it wasn't staged. If Marmalade was as good as he said he was, he would not fake something.

Which meant, the Bad Guys were being good?

"Hey, Y/N."

Tarantula had presumably been awake earlier than me, who was sitting down, a smile on her face. She was sitting down on the couch, relaxing.

"Where are the others?"

"Oh, they're still asleep. I usually wake up first, and map out heists...but we're good now, so I don't do much. My sleep wake cycle needs time to adjust, so I still wake up early."

The last one struck a chord with me, though I made no attempt to show it. Not many people were willing to sacrifice some sleep for a job. I could respect and sympathize, I guess.

Sighing, I tried getting back on track with figuring a motive out. Why would they become good? To steal? Certainly yes, but the security there was pretty good, with circuit jammers and the code to open the case of the Golden Dolphin being inside a briefcase, that couldn't be opened by anyone except the chief.

So, stealing it now was difficult, even more so without their special equipment. There was no way in without some sort of inside man.

Unless...they really were good.

Opening the computer, I tried seeing if something could help me. Of course, nothing really happened for a few hours, but I remembered what Marmalade had said yesterday.

"Putting someone else's needs above your own?"

I knew Marmalade was probably just someone who had a fake facade, because it was pretty obvious, but maybe his words had some merit. It was one person's life against five. The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few.

But...come on! The Bad Guys could just break out eventually, right? Meanwhile, I wasn't sure if I could even do anything about the record. One loss would lead to other losses, and soon, I would become less successful, and potentially fired.

The latter took some time, but the former possibility might fail.

I was conflicted at that point. Either they were really good, which meant they actually were redeemed, or you could bring them in somehow and move on. Choosing one meant at least one party would be messed up for life.

Perhaps there was another way to determine if they were good or not...

The gala? The Golden Dolphin was right there, and if the Bad Guys tried taking it, they would most certainly get caught somehow. It was an interesting solution. Either they were actually good, or they faked it.

I would just have to wait and see.