AN: This is the first Fan Fiction I've plucked up the courage to post. I didn't have a Beta Reader (which my way of both apologizing and sending out a plea). Constructive Criticism is very welcome.

Disclaimer: I do not own Chuck. I also do not own Star Wars, Back to the Future, The Wizard of Oz or the television shows Do Over and Odyssey Five, all of which this chapter has quoted, referenced or drawn inspiration from.


Chuck had a bad feeling about this. The team's current mission was to track down a scientist that intelligence had indicated was attempting to sell a new weapon to the highest bidder. Not even The Intersect had been able to provide what the scientist looked like, or what the weapon might be. They had followed the trail to an innocuous looking office building. Inside, he, Sarah and Casey had become separated in the maze-like corridors. And now his ear piece had quit working. Cautiously inching around the corner, he found himself looking a down a blank, doorless hall directly into the only occupied office he had come across so far. Chuck slowly entered the room. There was a large wooden desk directly across from the door covered in technology brick-a- brac. Further into the room was a large silver cylinder with what looked to be a short Jacobs's ladder at the top. After making sure the room was unoccupied, Chuck turned back toward the desk, and began searching the drawers to see if there was anything useful.

"I'm you're biggest fan."

Chuck had to bite his tongue to keep from letting out a very unspylike scream. Whirling around towards the voice he turned to face a young man standing next to the cylinder.

"Thanks?" Chuck glanced around, trying to find where the new arrival had come from.

The young man simply moved slightly towards Chuck. Chuck inched his hand towards his tranq pistol.

"I've read everything about you." Chuck tightened his grip around the pistol.

"You wouldn't happen to be related to someone named Stanley Fitzroy would you?"

Suddenly Chuck's grip was around only air.

"You won't need a gun, I told you I'm a friend." Chuck experimentally patted his now empty holster.

"Considering my track record with friends and family that's not really comforting." Chuck muttered.

"I know about Bryce. How he stole five years of your life." The man's voice was tinged with anger, and more than a little madness. Chuck decided he should end this quickly.

His eyes fluttered as he forced a flash before addressing the kid. When he came out of the flash, however, the young man had seemingly jumped across the room and was standing right in front of him.

"I came here to give you back what you lost."

Chuck didn't have a chance to move. He immediately felt two cold meddle paddle pressed into the sides of his head. There was a sudden tingle of electricity and then blackness.

Not in Kansas Anymore

Chuck woke up with what felt like the worst hangover of his life. He opened his eyes and blinked several times. He found himself lying on a narrow strip of industrial carpet, between a metal framed bed and a wall. In front of him, on a slightly rickety desk, was a computer that was at least half a decade out of date. Chuck leveraged himself up with the bed and took stock of the rest of the room. The headboard of the bed has a Stanford bumper sticker stuck diagonally across it, and behind it is hung a Tron poster. A second bed and desk were pushed up against the same wall closer to the room's door. He turned towards the window, and cautiously opened the worn drape. He found himself staring at the Pink lettered front of the Pi Delta Pi sorority house. Chuck sprung back in surprise. After a moment he moved forward toward the computer and checked the date. Then he began pulling up every site he could think of to recheck it. He pinched himself. Then he moved over to the other computer in the room and repeated the process. He wasn't sure how long he had been staring at the screen, when he was interrupted by the rattle of someone unlocking the room's door. Using reflexes he hadn't actually thought he'd gained, Chuck dove back behind the bed just as the person entered the room. After a moment, he carefully peeked up over the partial barrier.

"Bryce?" He said, trying to keep the sheer shock, out of his voice.

"Hey Buddy, did you fall asleep on the floor?" Chuck was fairly sure that wasn't what happened, but somehow he thought saying he was dumped back in time wouldn't be the best option.

"That would probably be the simplest explanation." Bryce let out a short laugh.

"I guess you partied a little bit heartier than I thought last night."

Chuck glanced toward the computer screen in front of him, with the implausible date emblazoned across it before turning back toward Bryce.

"Well, you only turn 20 once."