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Gratuitous Self-Insert: Out of Place – Out of Time

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Summary: Answer to the Gratuitous Self-Insert Challenge. It's summer 2012 and I'm moving out west to a new job. A little thunderstorm, a little magic and BOOM! PTB Chewtoy! GRRRrrrrrrr. (Non-crossover for now.)

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
BtVS/AtS Non-Crossover > DramaHMaxMariusFR1535,4722232,56517 May 1329 Jun 14No

Getting Gnawed

A/N: Warning for Language – How would YOU react in this situation!

Okay, so there has been positive response to this concept and someone even added a story from 5 years ago to the challenge page. BTW Ben, if the background pieces have any truth, then I sincerely hope that life has gotten better for them. Anyway, this is the only other part that was really clear at the time I started posting, so the next update will probably be a while as I have to figure out what and how to tell the Watcher... assuming he'll even let me in the door.

Getting Gnawed

August 17th, 1997 Sunnydale California

I had just hung up with Mr. Giles when the light in front of me turned green. Glancing down at the map, I slipped the clutch and got the truck moving again. I would need to make a left in three more blocks and the sun was already slipping behind the buildings. Damn it, if things held to form for Sunnydale, then I had absolutely no time for getting lost.

Add to that the fact that the Slayer was most likely still in LA with her dad, if I was remembering things correctly, and I was starting to feel a bit like a guy wearing milk bone underwear at the Westminster Dog Show. You'll have to pardon my reaction when an Irish sounding voice spoke up from the passenger seat.

“So Max...”

Okay, so I screamed. Loud. And like a girl no less. At least my right fist seemed to know what it was doing as it flew off the steering wheel and crashed into the stranger's jaw with all the force a racquetball backhand could muster.


Out of the corner of my eye I watched a bowler hat bounce off the roof of the cab and land on my recoiling arm. Taking note of the gaudy green jacket I groaned, loudly. Every damn thing I'd speculated on since seeing the city limits sign just got confirmed without the lousy bastard saying a word.

“Whistler, you low down, no good annoyance,” I growled. “Buffy's not going to get a chance to threaten to turn your ribcage into a stylish bit of haberdashery, because I'm going to rip out your spine and use it to beat your bosses into adopting Starfleet General Order One!”

Rubbing his purpling jaw the balance demon slid as far from me as the cab would allow. “Hell of a punch you've got there, but killing the messenger isn't going to help any.”

“Yeah, well you aren't Hermes, so I don't feel a need to cut you any slack,” I jammed my right finger in his face. “Your bosses have yanked me out of my home dimension...”



“Turn left.”

Looking back out the front window I saw I had already covered the three blocks. Throwing on the signal, I stomped the brakes just enough to allow me to haul the forty feet of truck and trailer around the corner onto the street that lead to Mr. Giles' apartment complex.

“The Powers didn't pull you out of your home universe. That was an act of accidental magic.”

I upshifted again, moving back to the speed limit. The complex was two miles down the road so I had a bit of time to deal with Mr. Whistler, who judging by the funny noises on his 's' words was now living up to his name thanks to my fist. “Bullshit! The only accidents as far as your bosses are concerned are the events surrounding the current Slayer and her friends.”

“Doesn't matter if you believe that part. Thing is, you are here,” Whistler waved a hand out at the town surrounding my truck. “And you have knowledge of things that are coming. Knowledge that trumps virtually everything they know about the next decade. Because of that, they want to offer you a deal.”

“Yeah right. Like I have any ability to enforce any deal they make.”

“You might be surprised about that. Anyway, the deal. From the moment you arrived, they knew you were going to find out where you were and that you'd seek out the slayer. They also know that things with the slayer and her friends tend to go off the reservation, like the prophecy for last May.” Whistler picked up his hat of the seat where it had fallen and held it in front of him like a shield. “There are certain people who you know are going to die that wouldn't have if not for the screwed up way the Slayer and her friends mess up our plans. We want you to save them, in exchange the Powers will set you up in this reality.”

“Oh yeah, like an overweight forty-one year-old retail manager is going to be able to offer much along those lines to the Scooby Gang,” I snarked. “I assume there's a huge honkin catch somewhere inside this juicy worm.”

The balance demon at least had the courtesy to look embarrassed. “You will not be able to willingly reveal your foreknowledge nor how you have it to anyone, even those you are tasked to save.”

I looked in the rearview mirror as the sun slid below the horizon and damn it if the mick in the passenger seat didn't nod at me as the last rays disappeared. “So either I take the deal or I'm something's liquid lunch. Guess I know why they call mafia dons Godfathers.”

“Hey, were it up to me, I'd have sent you home. Only according to the bosses it will be about six years before someone can do that for you.”

“Six... Dawn.” I slammed on the brakes, turned and grabbed the lapels of the emerald pain in the butt's jacket. “So I'm going to have to face off against the hellgoddess TOO!”

“Not something I can speak to,” he cringed. “So you're accepting.”

“Like I have a damn choice.” As the echo of the words faded into the upholstery an icy shiver crawled down my spine. “Great, what am I supposed to tell the watcher?”

“The truth.” Whistler fished in his pocket and pulled out a key which he pressed into my hand. A tag reading B-8 dangled from it.


“Your apartment. It's across the courtyard from his.” With that, he disappeared with a pop. Suddenly his voice sounded again in the empty space. “It's the next right. Oh, and everyone's off limits this Halloween.”


A/Endnote: Yeah, I went there... and got slapped for it ;) So this isn't going to be a GSI-YAHF. Now, I have to talk to the Watcher... and if you think I'm staying in that apartment tonight I've got some beachfront property in New Mexico to sell you.
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