Disclaimer: Sailor Moon is the creation of Nakao Takeuchi, the concepts
of Spiderman and such are by Stan Lee. No Money is being made from this
and no such intent should be inferred.

Author's note at end

***********

"I was in an office building the other day. I'm standing on the bottom 
floor in front of the elevator, and I push the button. A woman walks up 
to me and goes: 'Are these the elevators that go up?'
  I said; 'No, these are the the ones that go side to side. The ones 
that go up are down the hall.'  SHE WALKED AWAY!"
-Bill Engvall


"j00 607 pwnz0r3d," Usagi said, freezing Ami in her steps as she made 
to enter the Daily Bugle.

'One of these days,' she decided to herself as she turned to face 
Usagi, who was perched on a small statue just outside the Bugle's 
entrance. 'I'm going to find out how she accurately vocalizes a text 
only language.'

"And when I say pwned," Usagi continued, indicating the copy of the 
Bugle in her hand. "I mean butt handed to you on a silver platter and 
lightly garnished  with your head." Somehow, Ami managed to keep the 
fact that every part of her body was in agony off her face as she 
walked over to Usagi, who was grinning her usual mad grin. "And not to 
mention you and that Green Goblin fellow tore up an entire urban mall 
last night. I mean, really." She flicked her gaze over the paper. "You 
took out a Spencers'? The places that sell high fashion crap, congrats, 
but SPENCERS'? I thought I taught you better then that."

"I don't recall accepting you as any kind of teacher," Spiderwoman said 
levelly as Ami sat down on the statue gingerly, wincing as muscles and 
bruises protested. "We are allies, which means I do not have to accept 
any reprimands from you."

"Whose reprimanding?" Usagi asked lightly, but Ami felt herself shiver. 
The blonde was still grinning madly, but her eyes were perfectly sane. 
Twin blue orbs of ice that lashed out like electromagnets to hold 
Spiderwoman's gaze. Then, one of Usagi's eyebrows rose, just a bit, as 
much sensed as seen. A dare, a mock, and a challenge rolled into one.

Spiderwoman shifted her gaze just enough to break the hold, and the 
look in Usagi's eyes vanished as though it had never been and Ami let 
out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. Her ribs groaned 
in protest and Ami felt tears slide down her cheek. The painkillers 
were starting to wear off, she realized.

"Oh come on," Usagi dug into the messenger bag slung across her back 
and produced a handkerchief which she wet with her tongue and began to 
wipe the tears from Ami's cheek. "You don't need to cry, I was only . . 
. joking about  . . ." Usagi  looked closer at Ami's cheek. ". . . 
hoooolllllly shit . . ."

Ami's mind raced, or tried to. The handkerchief had revealed the 
massive bruises on her cheek that had been covered by stage makeup. As 
she had never prayed before, Ami prayed that Usagi would shake her 
head, make a joke, and . . . and what? She frowned. Her head was 
beginning to hurt. Was it getting foggy?

And here it was almost summer. How funny. Ami giggled to herself, not 
noticing as Usagi grabbed the sleeve of Ami's shirt and whipped it up, 
revealing several lacerations and lots of bad bruises, many poorly 
tended to.

"What happened?" Usagi growled. That was odd, Usagi never growled. She 
was mad, after all. Ami replied to her question -that was only proper- 
with the only answer that made sense.

"Somebody set us up the bomb," Ami replied.

"Oh, God, you need to get to a doctor, like now."

Something about those words momentarily jerked Ami back to her senses. 
"No. Grandfather's lunch. Grandmother told me to deliver him his 
lunch." The fog came back, clouding her brain. "Aunt Mai . . . Eatings 
. . . 'Eat Mai lunch.' Mai lunch. Get it?"

"Yeah, you should be doing stand up," Usagi muttered as she helped Ami 
to her feet. Ami's new bod was built along Flash's lines, but sleeker . 
. . mostly. Usagi turned her head to keep the side of Ami's chest out 
of her face. Even if Ami's chest was in perfect proportion to the rest 
of her, D-cups were a pain. And because that bod was mostly muscle, Ami 
was heavier then she looked. "If I hadn't already convinced myself that 
I was Kami-Sama," Usagi muttered, "this would make me develop an 
inferiority complex."

Usagi began making her way back down the steps. All few seconds out of 
sight  to transform and then Sailor Moon could get her . . . where? 
Where to take her?

First things first. Find someplace to transform, then --

"Is she all right?"

Shit.

Turning, Usagi saw a young man. He was slightly taller then Flash with 
tousled brown hair and inquisitive eyes. A camera was slung around his 
neck and he was dressed in jeans and a dress shirt open at the neck. He 
was staring at them quizzically and Usagi thought fast.

"Yeah, she just has this cold and the meds made her stupid. You know 
how it is. I'm just taking her someplace where she can sleep it off."

"Isn't that Mister Jameson's granddaughter?" The man asked, stepping 
closer. Usagi swallowed several obscene words and thought even faster.

"Usagi, why are we leaving? That's my big brother," Ami said, and then 
giggled. "Hi, bro!"

"Right," Usagi muttered and then looked up as inspiration struck. "You 
know her grandpa?"

"Yeah," the young man said. "Well sort of --"

"Great!" Usagi yanked a bento box from Ami's bag and handed it to him. 
"Here. It's his lunch. Give it to him for us, thanks." With that, she 
walked away as Ami cheerfully called goodbye.

* *  * *

Flash's secret vice was cooking. She loved cooking. With a surgeon's 
steady hands, she carefully added the finishing touches to the souffle. 
This wasn't just food, it was art and she was DaVinci.

At that moment, the phone rang, making her hands jerk and she snatched 
the phone off the counter as the souffle collapsed. "What?" she 
growled.

"Grab your better half and meet me on the Kento Corp rooftop," Usagi 
said and then hung up. Flash stared at the phone for a few seconds and 
then shoved the remains of the souffle into the sink.

"JUPITER POWER, MAKE-UP!"

* * * *

It took Sailor Jupiter five minutes to cover the distance and when she 
got there, Sailor Moon was sitting calmly on an AC unit. On a heating 
duct, Ami lay on her back, twitching and muttering to herself.

"What in the hell?" Jupiter demanded.

"Beats the hell out of me," Sailor Moon said. The blond held a high end 
model Palm Pilot in her hand and was looking for something on it's 
screen. "She's wearing a boatload of makeup and under the makeup her 
face looks like she went fifty rounds with Kenshirou Kasumi while 
hog-tied."

Jupiter had no idea who that was and didn't give a damn at the moment. 
"We gotta get her to a hospital," she said.

"And tell them what?" Sailor Moon asked. "Wanna explain why two Senshi 
are bringing a beaten up girl to them? The girl whose grandfather takes 
up whole editorials ranting about how those Senshi need to be tossed in 
jail for a few hundred years? We walk in with his badly beaten 
granddaughter and we might as well just ask for rope and hang 
ourselves."

"We could go in our civvies . . ." Jupiter said and then trailed off as 
Sailor Moon looked her with an "I know you're not that stupid" 
expression.

"Well we can't leave her like this," Jupiter said.

"I don't intend to. I just need to check something . . . ah!" 
Triumphantly, Sailor Moon switched the Palm off and hopped off the AC. 
"Grab her and follow."

Jupiter did as she was bid. "Where are we going?"

"Shinjuku, there's a doc there who's set up shop and does whatever you 
need. He doesn't ask questions, keeps no patient records, will work for 
free, and has a real bad memory for faces."

"And you've verified this?" Jupiter asked sardonically.

Something passed across Sailor Moon's face. "Soitenly," she said. 
"Tally ho!"

* * * *

The doctor, David Banterman by name, kept his office in one of the 
worst sections of Shinjuku possible in a ramshackle building with very 
little security. Given the drugs and stuff kept by doctors, that seemed 
foolhardy until Jupiter actually laid eyes on Banterman and realized 
why he was so lax.

Banterman was big. In fact, big was an understatement. He had to be 
close to eight feet tall and at least half that, if not more in width. 
He seemed to be not much more then pure muscle, a mobile wall built for 
one purpose; destruction. His pinky alone had to be the same girth as 
Jupiter's own wrist. No one in their right mind would mess with 
somebody that big without an army at their back. And, even then, 
whether or not the army would win was probably a crapshoot. He wore a 
black shirt and purple pants, which seemed to go well with his dark 
skin.

Yet, despite his massive size, he moved with an almost dancer's grace 
as he rose from the stool he'd been seated on while cleaning 
instruments.

"Can I help you?" His deep bass seemed to vibrate in Jupiter's bones 
and his Japanese was nearly flawless.

"Our friend is hurt," Sailor Moon said.

Banterman waved a hand at the exam table and reached for a set of 
oversized latex gloves. "Veronica!" he called. A tall, brown haired 
American woman entered the room a moment later and asked a question in 
English.

Banterman glanced at Ami's face, made a hissing noise, and then began 
rattling off a list of things he needed. Veronica vanished when he had 
finished and Banterman began to wipe the makeup off Ami's face with a 
delicateness that belied his sheer bulk.

"Since I see Sailor Moon and Sailor Jupiter standing before me," he 
said softly, "I can only assume that this is Spiderwoman on my table."

"You shouldn't assume," Sailor Moon said lightly as she moved to stand 
on the other side of the table, shrugging off her long coat as she did 
so. "On second thought," Sailor Moon said, "it's too damn cold in here" 
and pulled the coat back on. But as she did, Jupiter saw a long white 
scar where her neck met her shoulder. It looked like it could have been 
made by a knife. "Assuming makes an ass out of--"

"I know what assuming does," Banterman rumbled as Veronica returned 
with a tray loaded with supplies. Carefully, he began to remove Ami's 
shirt.

Veronica gasped and said something as she traced a cross in the air.

Very little of Ami's body was unbruised and what wasn't bruised was 
deeply cut. Someone with limited medical knowledge had tended the cuts, 
but not very well. Many seemed to have closed on their own, with only 
angry red lines to mark their place.

"Naked time!" Ami exclaimed. "Whee!"

"Exodorphins," Banterman muttered to himself. "Twelve ceecees of Mirol."

"Exo whosa whatso?" Jupiter asked.

"Exodorphins," Banterman said as he took the syringe from Veronica and 
injected Ami with it. "Natural painkiller produced by bodies with an 
active Exgene. Like your friend here, and you." On the table, Ami 
relaxed, her eyes closing. "To many Exodorphins send a person into a 
state not unlike being drunk."

"Exgene?" Jupiter repeated as Veronica handed Banterman a threaded 
suture needle.

"Mutational gene," Veronica told them. Her Japanese was heavily 
accented. "Previously unknown gene that activates previously unused 
portions of the brain, allowing superhuman feats and abilities by 
mutating the human DNA structure."

"So your friend's lucky," Banterman said.

"Not from what I see," Jupiter replied.

"Without her Exgene, and its effects of accelerated healing," Banterman 
countered, "She'd have died from these injuries hours ago. She's 
lucky."

Jupiter, having no answer to that, looked over at Sailor Moon. The 
blonde had cut up a latex glove to make finger puppets and appeared to 
be putting on a X-rated puppet version of Tokyo Pig.

Jupiter looked back at Veronica, who was watching Sailor Moon with a 
puzzeled expression. She then looked at Jupiter, one eyebrow raised in 
a silent question. Jupiter could only shrug. "Dang if I know," the 
Senshi of Thunder said.

* * * *

Ami blinked as she awoke. The last thing she remembered was sitting 
down on the statue next to Usagi and--

"Grandfather's lunch!" She exclaimed, sitting up, only to blink as a 
hand the size of a small child's head pushed her back down.

"Lie back down, Spiderwoman," a deep voice said. "You're not nearly 
ready to walk out of here."

Spiderwoman? Ami followed the wrist to the forearm to the upper arm and 
found it attached to the biggest man she'd ever seen. "What did you 
call me?"

"Spiderwoman," the man replied. "I don't know your real name and don't 
want to. Now lie there and rest."

As Ami tried to digest that, Sailor Moon's head popped into her field 
of vision. The blonde had somehow sharpened a pair of tongue depressors 
into fangs, which were poking out of her mouth. She was also wearing a 
headband with attached disc and was holding a scalpel.

"Vou haf a lovely nose, my dear," Sailor Moon said to her in an 
atrocious accent, despite the fangs. "Howevfah, perhaps a little off 
the top might be in ordah?"

The big man's face reappeared, glaring at Sailor Moon, who managed to 
look contrite and then disappeared.

"How do you manage to keep from killing her?" he muttered as he lifted 
the sheet to peer at something. It was at that moment that Ami realized 
that she was naked under the sheet. It was at that same moment that 
Sailor Moon sat on the bed and on Ami's hand, preventing her from 
hitting him.

"Relax," she chirped. "Banty-chan's a doctor."

"The name's Banterman," he muttered.

Sailor Moon made a dismissive gesture. "Whatever. Anyways, he fixed you 
up nice and pretty. Not a scar to be found. Which is good, since scars 
lower your ogle ratio. The less pervs who ogle, the less money I make 
selling pics of your rated number one ass." She looked up at Banterman. 
"It's true. She's been voted as having the number one ass at school for 
five weeks straight." She looked down at Ami. "Which reminds me, I owe 
you your fifty percent." She patted Amy's stomach and hopped off the 
bed and out of sight.

"It was your Exgene," Banterman said to Ami. "I had little to do with 
it."

"Exgene?" Ami frowned to herself for a moment. "You mean Charles 
Xavier's single generation mutation theory?"

Banterman raised an eyebrow. "You've read his paper."

Ami nodded. "All theory though. Isn't it?"

Banterman shook his head. "Don't I wish. They're out there and you're 
one of them."

"I . . ." Ami shook her head. "I think I'd like to go home now. Really."

Banterman let out a deep breath. "As a doctor, I'd rather you stay a 
while longer, just to be sure you've recovered completely, but I'll 
leave now so you can get dressed."

* * * *

Banterman gulped down half of the bottle of Sake and wiped his mouth 
before putting the bottle back. All this time. Waiting and tending to 
an endless stream of women and girls, hoping that gossip would bring 
Sailor Moon to him. Now she was here and what he really wanted to do 
was wring her neck and hope there was a back up.

He snarled to himself and removed an oversized phone from his pocket 
and dialed a number. "She's here," he said simply and hung up.

Strange and Fury owed him big for this.

* * * *

Once away from Banterman's clinic, the three girls changed back.

"So what happened?" Flash asked.

"It was the Goblin," Ami said softly. "He confronted us when we took a 
break on the roof of the shopping center. Asked, demanded that we join 
forces with him."

"Let me guess," Flash said. "You told him no and he pitched a fit."

"Worse," Ami said with a shudder. "It was like he was possessed. No 
matter what we did, no matter where we went, there he was. Hitting, 
kicking, throwing those bombs and shuriken. It was like he was a . . . 
a . . ."

As Ami struggled to find the right words, a piece of rebar suddenly 
sprouted from the sidewalk next to Usagi's shoe with an ear splitting 
crack.

"Odd," Usagi mused. "Weather report didn't say anything about 
construction materials in the forecast."

"Hello, ladies," Magnetite's voice said. "Having a good evening?"

"But it did mention jackasses," Usagi continued with a note of disgust. 
"Magnetite, right? Good to hear from you again. Taking a break from 
kissing Beryl's ass?"

"You're funny, Usagi, real funny."

"I try."

Up ahead of them, a figure materialized in the shadow of an overhang.

"Oh, look, ladies," Usagi said. "It's Bozo the brownoser."

"Is that all you can come up with? Insults based on whom I serve? And I 
really thought better of you after all these years."

"All these--who the hell are you?" Usagi demanded. "Why don't you step 
into the light where we can see you?"

Suddenly, everything clicked in Flash's mind. "Oh, Kamis," she 
whispered. "Ami, grab her other arm."

"Huh? Why?"

"Mmm, why not? I just wish I had a camera."

"Just do it," Flash hissed.

"A camera?" Usagi sneered. "A camera for what? Your ass-whooping?"

"No," Magnetite said as she stepped into the light, "yours."

Ami felt Usagi's legs give out.

"No," the blonde whispered. "No, no, no. A trick. It has to be a trick."

"Oh its no trick, Usagi," Naru said with a smile. "No trick at all. 
More like . . . payback."

***************

Author's note: Once this chapter has been through it's drafts, or on 
November first, whichever happens first, I'll be placing all fanfics on 
hold.

As to why, for the curious, I'm particpating in National Novel Writing 
Month. 50,000 words in thirty days. Should be fun. If you want to read 
what I come up with,
the story will be posted here: 
http://www.livejournal.com/community/replacementking/

Thanks.

-Steve "Komodo" T.
http://www.geocities.com/studio_pc_hub/


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