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The Invisible Handjob	By : Ksennin Category: Marvel Verse Comics > Spiderman Views: 52206 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I own neither Ultimate Spider-Man nor any of the franchise's characters. I make no money from publishing this.

Chapter List
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Finally free of detention, Logan walked until he hit a liquor store, walked his teenage body through the doors, went unerringly to the Molston, and brought two six-packs to the front. Unvarying routine; it was almost like having his animal senses back. Not that he minded a break from smelling New York.
“Bag it,” he said, throwing them on the counter.
The clerk looked at him. “I’m gonna need to see some ID.”
Logan growled. It did not have the same effect coming from a seventeen-year-old boy.
***
The little red lights on the cameras went out and guards with some very unfriendly fashion accessories came to collect Peter and Jean. They were frog-marched to some showers, hosed down, and given replicas of their old costumes. About the only thing that kept Peter from freaking out about being in someone else’s body (someone who was in a concentration camp) was that Jean kept up a steady stream of telepathy.
He sent: So much leather. Why so much leather? Do you just hate cows?
It’s a special synthetic fiber. It keeps Sentinels from detecting our mutant DNA.
But it doesn’t cover your belly button?
Don’t talk to me; you’re the guy who doesn’t have a mouthhole in your mask.
Hides my Van Dyke.
Shut up.
I’m not talking, remember? Gosh, you’re the psychic.
Again, the commands ending in “mutie!” and the guns poking into their backs, until they were in something that looked like a drunk tank for Captain Kirk. Some of the other X-Men were there, but Peter was too busy having a nervous breakdown to remember their names. Big Guy, Black Lady, Catty Pride, and some girl who had enough piercings to count as a mutant power.
“No questions,” Jean ordered crisply. “Everyone on the floor. We need to commune with the Goddess.”
Excuse me? Peter sent.
Indian-sit in a circle and join hands.
Uh, last time I did that, Mrs. Ferguson was reading us a story about how Fuzzy Rabbit didn’t have to be scared of thunder.
Just do it, Parker. You owe me anyway.
I owe you? For what, dragging my mind into the middle of The Hunger Games?
Yeah, right before you got to fuck me seven ways to Sunday. Sit!
Peter sat down, and very careful not to pop his claws, he linked hands with the X-Men on either side of him.
Suddenly, they weren’t in a sleekly futuristic prison. They were in his room. And he wasn’t five foot seven and smelling of Old Spice anymore. Just your friendly neighborhood Peter Parker.
“What? Why is Logan not Logan?” the big Russian guy asked.
“Better questions!” Peter ticked them off on his fingers. “Why are we in Queens? What’s going on? What’s going on again? What’s going on times about eleventy billion?”
“Peter, calm down—“ Jean called. The leader of the X-Men was sitting on his bed. That was way too much for him to take.
“Explain!”
She held a placating hand up to the X-Men, who were getting agitated by him. “Alright, then listen. I told you that my power works, a little. Thus, I’m able to join our minds, but only while we’re all in direct contact. It’s the same principle as our mental conversation earlier. I thought this would just make it a little easier for you. A lot of people find it disconcerting to have more than one or two voices in their heads.”
“Yeah, that would be disconcerting. And my room?”
Jean looked around. “Your mind’s the most… active. Because you’re so nervous and so unused to this communication, your brain’s flooded with endorphins and you are dominating this conversation. I’m allowing it, and so we’re being projected to an environment you find safe and familiar.”
“Safe and familiar, right?” Piercings snorted. “I bet this guy’s nearly been caught masturbating in here about fifty times.
“Sweet girl,” Peter commented. “Think I know how she got all those holes in her head.”
“I am the fucking Dazzler, peasant—“
“I’ll handle the introductions,” Jean cut in, “unless everyone would like to drop an F-bomb. Guys, this is Peter Parker. I accidentally switched his brain with Logan’s.”
That met with uproar. “Accidentally?” the black woman demanded. “How do you pull that shit accidentally?”
“Well, if I knew that, I wouldn’t have done it. But suffice to say, while having sex with Logan’s body isn’t such a bad prospect, having sex with his personality is.”
The ladies conferred in agreement, though the Russian quietly disagreed.
“Now then,” Jean continued. “Peter, this is Piotr Rasputin, Ororo Munroe, Alison Blaire, and Kitty Pryde. Don’t bother trying to remember their names, I’m already uploading the pertinent bios into your long-term memory.”
“Gee, thanks. Mind putting in the answers to my AP History quiz while you’re in there?”
“So, wait—“ Piotr held up a hand. “You’ve replaced Wolverine, the most dangerous mutant on the planet, with some random high school student? How could you do that? We have no chance of escape now!”
“He’s not just some student. He’s Spider-Man.”
“Whoa!” Peter cried. “Time-out, time-out, hold the friggin’ phone! You cannot just tell people my secret identity!”
“So he’s Spider-Man, so what?” Alison asked. “I already forgot his name.”
“And my face? I can’t believe you’re all looking at my face. Can I get a mask in here?”
“You just think it and—“ Kitty started helpfully. “No, never mind, I’ll do it.”
She concentrated and a Captain America ‘doesn’t stand for France’ mask appeared on him.
“Not what I had in mind,” Peter said, his voice echoing inside it.
“Well, technically, it is what you have in mind,” Jean pointed out.
“Whatever. Everyone, just—forget my face! And name!”
“Here’s a picture of him,” Ororo said, picking a frame up from his desk. “With his grandma.”
“Awww,” Kitty cooed.
“Put that down! She’s my aunt!”
“I was just going to ask if you wanted me to put it down.” Ororo set it facedown on the desk. “There. Cool?”
“No! Uncool! Very uncool!” Peter faced Jean, groaning in frustration. “Hey, Spock, you think you could mind-meld these guys into forgetting the last two minutes? And the most closely guarded secret of my life, which if revealed would threaten the lives of everyone I love?”
“Did he just ask her to wipe our brains?” Alison asked.
“In a nice way,” Kitty stressed.
“I’m not wiping anyone’s mind!” Jean said firmly. “Peter, you are just going to have to get used to us knowing your secret. We’ll try our best to keep it, and we’ve done a pretty good job of keeping a lid on things so far. But we need all the cards on the table if we’re going to figure a way out of this.”
“Hey, no offense, but that really seems like more your problem than my problem. I have enough problems. I’m in high school.”
“So are we!” Kitty said.
“I did the slap and tickle thing, and I’ll be sure to call you in the morning, but for now, could you please put me back in my body? I’m kinda attached to it and I much prefer the way it smells.”
“Can’t,” Jean said simply.
“Okay, I’ve seen every body-switch movie there is. We just have to redo whatever you did in the first place. So make a wish on a silver dollar while it’s struck by lightning on a Friday, whatever. Just get me back to Queens!”
“Not a request you hear too often,” Piotr observed.
“I told you!” Jean insisted. “I can’t. I don’t know what I did, I don’t know how I did it, I don’t know how to undo it. Your best chance is the Professor. He’s forgotten more about telepathy than I know.”
“A forgetful telepath is not as reassuring as you think. But fine. Where’s the Prof?”
“Don’t know,” Ororo said.
“You kiddin’ me?”
“The Genoshans have him somewhere in this compound, in a higher-security cell than this one. I can’t imagine what they’ve done to keep him from getting help.”
Peter groaned again, hands on his head like he was struggling to keep in an exploding headache. “Okay, okay, move.”
“What?”
“Off my bed!”
Jean got off his bed. Peter flopped down on it, staring at the ceiling, covering his face with his hands.
“My bed. Mine.” Peter kicked at the mattress. “Alright! Pretend I fell asleep during the opening credits and I’ve woken up in the middle of the movie. Anything else I need to know?”
“To what?” Jean asked.
“To get you out of this confusing, silly, dumb, weird situation I’ve been thrust into with no idea why this is happening to me or what’s really going on. It’s kinda what I do.”
“We’ve already been over—“ Ororo began, but Jean cut her off.
“Angel, Nightcrawler, Iceman, and a few civilian mutants are out in the jungle. They’re being hunted by the Reavers: mutant haters with cybernetic upgrades to kill us. They’re led by Deadpool. He’s an ass.”
“And these collars?” Alison asked rhetorically. “Not just a fashion statement. Which sucks, because they’re a boss accessory. They’re called inhalers.”
“Inhibitors,” Kitty corrected. “They suppress our mutant powers. We try to take them off and they blow up.”
“Tried disarming them?”
“We look like we got an electronics whiz up in here?” Ororo asked.
Peter put on his old pair of glasses. “You tell me.”
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The Invisible Handjob