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Summary: In a ‘tribute’ to The Terminator movies this story is about Xander Harris going back in time to 1975 in order to save Marcia Brady, the future mother of the savior of humanity, from an exterminator demon.

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
Television > Brady Bunch, The(Past Donor)KiwikatipoFR1538,6480222,88312 Aug 0719 Aug 07No

And its good to feel that way,girl

Marcia Brady thought Xander was on drugs, he couldn’t blame her and he didn’t have time to explain.

“I’m not high on anything, definitely not life these days. I comprehend you’ve deducted I’m a raving psycho but I’m here to save you.” Xander held his gun low in combat grip. This was ridiculous, there was no way the terrified girl in front of him believed a word he said and why would she? “You got the starter key to your scooter on you?”

“Yes,” Marcia’s knees were knocking together. This was the most horrible thing that had ever happened to her, finding herself alone in a classroom with a madman with a gun. Marcia pressed her knees together to stop them shaking.

“Great, we’re going to climb out this window and walk calmly out to the student car park, I’m gonna have this gun trained on you the whole time and then we’re going to take your scooter for a little ride.” Xander smiled to show he was a good guy honestly.

Marcia decided he was probably going to rape her in some deserted building before shooting her through her skull.

“Understand?” Xander jerked his head towards the window.

“Yes, I understand the police are going to catch you and you’ll get the electric chair if you hurt me.” Marcia’s voice shook. She opened the window and felt the muzzle of the gun press into her spine. “Please don’t hurt me.”

“I’m not, Marcia, just don’t try anything stupid.” Xander sighed in her ear.

The abductor and abducted reached the student car park without incident.

Xander grinned despite himself at the sight of Marcia’s pale green scooter, her white crash helmet padlocked to the wire basket in the front of her scooter had a small sticker on it.

“I heart Davy Jones? Who’s he?” Xander climbed on behind her.

“The greatest pop star in the universe, not a murdering maniac. You’re never going to get away with this.” Marcia pulled on her crash helmet and started her scooter. “Why don’t I drive to the police station? I know where that is, I helped my neighbor across the street fill out a burglary report, Mrs. Gomez’s Mexican and doesn’t speak English very well. You can turn yourself in, I won’t press charges. Maybe if you do that, you’ll just get put in an asylum not prison.”

“Head out onto the freeway, Marcia,” Xander wrapped his hands securely around her waist. “Hey, I forgot to introduce myself, I’m Xander Harris.”

Marcia thought ‘Xander’ was the most dumbo, dumb name she’d ever heard in her life.


“I’m running low on gas!” Marcia yelled above the traffic on the freeway. She’d never driven on the freeway before, using her scooter solely to commute to school and her part time job at a coffee shop, negotiating the getting busier by the minute late afternoon traffic was getting scarier by the second. In other circumstances she might have got a kick out of it, but being kidnapped by a lunatic with a gun made any resulting new experience a downer.

A Californian Highway Patrol Officer had driven past them on the freeway twenty minutes ago and not noticed anything was wrong - that a teenage victim and her future murderer were yards away from the preoccupied law enforcer. For the very first time in her life Marcia could see why some low people called the police moronic pigs.

“Take the next turn off and we’ll get gas!” Xander instructed her. “And remember, don’t try anything!”

“I’m not gonna!” Marcia totally was going to try something soon. As her grandpa always said, God helped those who helped themselves. Marcia offered grateful thanks to the cosmos she was a WASP.

A gas station proved to be ten minutes away and both Marcia and Xander dismounted from her scooter.

Marcia looked impeccable apart from helmet hair, Xander, with the wind blowing through his dark hair the past hour and beard stubble prominent on his face looked more crazed than ever.

“Please don’t shoot me, but I need a comfort stop.” Marcia intended to escape as soon as the restroom door was shut.

“You can pee behind a bush once we make it to the highway.” Xander wasn’t letting her out of his sight. “Fill the tank, check the oil and water, and we’ll buy a can of gas to take with us.”

“I don’t know how to check the oil and water, my brother and dad do that for me,” she lied shamelessly. Marcia was still terrified of Xander but she figured her opportunity to escape at the gas station was the best she’d be presented with.

“Today’s going to be a changing day in your life then, as I talk you through it.” Xander beamed at her with jovial kindly intent.

Marcia’s hands trembled as she unscrewed the fuel cap. Xander’s evil sinister smile made her want to wet her pants.

A car filled with a family heading away for a camping weekend parked behind them. “J. Holy C. another family!” the father exclaimed to his wife getting out of the car. “What the hell is wrong with people these days?”

“I don’t know, Stan, maybe it’s fluoride in the water.” His wife adjusted her clothing as she stretched.

Marcia and Xander listened in shamelessly to the couple’s conversation.

“I don’t think so, Glenda; maybe this nutcase had a bad encounter with a guy named Brady one day.” The husband cleaned his windscreen as his wife filled the car with gas. “He must be going down the phonebook and whacking off the Brady families in Santa Monica in alphabetical order. Alison Brady’s family, Colin Brady’s family, Foster Brady’s family, Jack Brady’s family and now who was it this time? That poor dental hygienist, half an hour ago, at her workplace, in broad damn daylight?”

“Lucille Brady.” His wife banged on the roof of the car. “You stop that, Tommy, leave your sister alone!” She returned to her conversation with her husband. “Why kill the wives and girls and leave that little boy and old man alive? That’s what I don’t get.”

“That’s enough, Marcia, you’re overflowing the tank.” Xander grabbed her hand and stopped the gas splashing onto the ground.

“It’s not you.” Marcia’s hazel eyes were filled with confusion. “Unless you’re part of some weirdo cult.” Her eyes narrowed in fresh suspicion.

“I’ll explain everything.” Xander promised her in a low voice, conscious of the customers in the gas station courtyard, “As soon as we’re both somewhere safe.”

“M comes after L.” Marcia raised her voice in panic. “My dad’s name’s Michael.”

“I know, and if you promise to keep quiet and (repeating myself I realize), not try anything, I’ll let you ring your mom at the phone booth we passed down the road and warn her.” Xander tried to calm her down. “I’m the good guy, the white hat cowboy, a Jedi knight with a light saber, the U.S. cavalry and marines all rolled into one.” Oh sweet Beelzebub, Marcia was staring at him like he was insane once more. When did Star Wars get released again?

Marcia inserted the quarter into the coin slot in the telephone box and wrinkled her nose in distaste, at close range Xander stank. She dialed her parent’s number and waited for her mother or Alice to pick up the phone.

Xander’s head was touching hers as they listened to the receiver together. Xander’s thumb was pressed on the cut off button, prepared to end the call in a second if Marcia didn’t follow his instructions to the letter.

Mike Brady answered the phone. “Hello, Brady residence.”

“Dad, it’s me, all these murders, are you and Mom gonna go to the police for protection?” Marcia cut straight to the point.

“The police have sent us over two patrolmen, honey, we’re fine. Where are you, Marcia, are you alright?” Mike Brady inquired anxiously.

Marcia could hear Tiger howling outside. She’d never heard the family dog so worked up, half the time you forgot Tiger was in the house, the dog spent most of his time in Alice’s room sleeping.

“What’s wrong with the dog?” Marcia asked automatically.

“Shit,” Xander pressed his left hand over the mouthpiece. “What’s the dog’s name?”

“Tiger,” Marcia didn’t see what the heck that had to do with anything and was appalled at his potty mouth.

“Nothing’s wrong with the dog, the police thought it best we leave him outside.” Mike’s voice soothed over the line. “Where are you?”

Xander gave Marcia another insane instruction. “Call the dog, Lorne or I cut the call.”

Marcia flinched in fright and yet deep inside her a little worm turned - for crying out loud, “You sure Lorne’s okay?”

“Really Lorne’s fine, where are you, Marcia?” her step-father asked her again.

Xander cut off the call. “Your family’s dead. I’m sorry.”

“No, I just spoke to my dad!” Marcia screeched in outraged disbelief, scrambling in her bag for more small change.

“That wasn’t your father, it was a frigging demon.” Xander hadn’t slept for getting on thirty hours and his tact and temper were short.

“My dad isn’t dead.” Marcia let the demon remark go, Xander was obviously a paranoid schizophrenic - why waste her breath?

“Come on, we need to get back on the highway.” Xander grabbed her upper arm roughly.

“Where’re we going? You said you’d explain everything.” Marcia’s complained, with a spark of her normal gumption returning.

“When we’re somewhere safe,” Xander insisted harshly. “Now move.”


Somewhere safe turned out to be a cheap motel room with a bathroom with no outside window but reassuringly twin beds.

Xander swore black and blue he wasn’t intending to rape her.

“You’re completely nuts!” Marcia sobbed in despair, long past caring Xander carried a gun on him, she had been listening to his freak diatribe on how she was going to give birth to the messiah of humanity for half an hour, and as her housekeeper Alice would say, Xander had bats in his attic. “There’s no such thing as demons and monsters.”

“Well, we’re gonna have to agree to disagree on that one.” Xander rubbed his aching temples. “You’ll believe me when we get to our final destination.”

“Gee, and what’s that, the haunted house in Disneyland?” Marcia wiped her nose on her handkerchief.

“The Big Apple,” Xander moved slowly towards her. “Now you’re a smart girl and I know you don’t believe me yet and you’ll try and run away when I’m asleep so I’m going to tie you up. Get on the bed.”

“No!” Marcia struggled with him frenziedly, chomping on his hand over her mouth with all her might.

Xander uttered one of the worst words Marcia had rarely heard but he easily over powered her, gagging her with his tie and tying her hands and feet together with a pair of pantyhose. She managed to land a hard kick in his chest in the process of him binding her ankles together but nothing stopped him.

Xander carried the resisting all the way Marcia to a single bed and dropped her on top of it.

“I’m sorry, but this is honestly for your own protection.” Xander moved away from her and collapsed on top of the other bed.

“Drop dead, creep.” Marcia mumbled through her gag.

Infuriatingly Xander appeared already fast asleep.

Marcia burst into tears again, she wanted her mom and she wanted to be home. For half a despairing hour Marcia wept in misery until she too drifted off to sleep with nervous exhaustion.

Marcia was wakened at four in the morning by Xander crying out in his sleep. Good, the kidnapping pig was having a nightmare, ha ha served him right.

Fall, 2003 Los Angeles, during the reign of the First Evil

“Do you think we’ve lost them?” Virginia Bryce leaned panting against the wall of a burnt out building. The street they were in was bathed in a grubby light from the blood colored mid-day sun penetrating the smoke clouds hanging over the city.

“Probably not,” Xander gasped, out of breath as well, he applied pressure to the bleeding wound on her shoulder with his hand. “You think ya gonna be able to make it back to base without passing out?”

“Probably not, but I’ll give it the old college try.” Virginia was deathly pale. “These Gnarl demons are worse than paparazzi when it comes to showing up when you don’t want them to.”

“I wouldn’t know about that pre-collapse of high society headache, talk to me about problems with survey reports.” Xander applied a field dressing bandage to Virginia’s wound. “That should hold.”

“Let’s move then.” Virginia winced as she picked up her rifle again. “You insist on carrying that crossbow, my father always said to move with the times, which explains why Daddy’s helping the First Evil.”

“I stick with what works.” Xander glanced around them, “We should try the valley route.”

Virginia nodded, the two soldiers picked their way cautiously the next two hours through the ruins of suburbia.

“Left!” Xander spun around at the shuffling and moaning sound coming closer.

“Crap, zombies,” Virginia and Xander sprinted down the street, scrambling over the burned out shells of car wrecks.

“Keep going!” Xander pulled a fallen Virginia off the ground and supported her weight on his shoulders.

“I can’t make it. I don’t want to end up like that.” Virginia’s feet gave out from under her once more. “Don’t let me end up like that.”

“You can make it!” Xander shook her frantically.

“I can’t. You’ve got to get the amulet to Commander Brady.” Virginia clutched his arm, white as a sheet. “Please, Xander, hey, I’d kill you.”

“I was that lousy in bed?” Xander kissed her forehead and withdrew the knife from the sheath in his belt.

“No. Please Xander?” Virginia begged desperately.

“Shut your eyes, Ginny.” Xander slit her throat with one clean stroke.


“Ginny!” Xander sat up in bed.

Marcia was staring at him in the semi darkness with a look of contempt on her face as she lay curled on her bed.

Xander got up to shower. He stood under the hot spray and scrubbed his hands again and again.

God, he hadn’t showered in hot water for months. It felt so incredible to be totally clean again. He washed out his army uniform in the bathroom sink, his regular clothes worn under his stolen suit hadn’t convinced Marcia he was from the future, nor had his twenty first century gun.

Marcia didn’t know anything about guns and as she said, it wasn’t like his weapon was a ray blaster.

Marcia was going to be a handful to get to New York.

Xander must get her there, the future of the human race was dependent on keeping this skeptical high school senior safe.

He came out back out into the bedroom with a glass of water for her.

He gently untied her gag and let her sip the water down. Her face was a tear and mucous stained mess, perhaps he should fetch a washcloth and clean her up.

“Please let me go.” Marcia began to cry yet again.

“When we get to New York, I promise. Do me a favor and quit saying ‘please’.” Xander couldn’t take it; it was reminding him too much of Virginia and what happened to Fred.

“You want me to stop being polite!” Marcia found this to be the last darn straw. “Jeepers Creepers, you’re socially immature as well as being a one eyed crazy man.”

Yep, a handful alright.


The scooter was abandoned in Needles, pushed into the Colorado river and Marcia experienced more horror at being forced by Xander to stow away in a freight carriage on a train bound for Chicago.

“I’m out of money.” Xander explained with a careless shrug, settling in comfortably against a wooden crate. “I couldn’t believe my luck when I raided the kids’ piggy banks at the house I stole this suit from and ended up with forty dollars.”

“Taking bread from children, you scummy dingbat,” Marcia had abandoned all politeness to Xander by this stage, partly, recognized Xander because she was suffering an overload of mental trauma.

Marcia was insisting in spite of the reports of her family’s death they’d both read in a newspaper this morning that her family was not dead and it was all a cruel trick on Xander’s part.

It was nice Marcia was now going crazy too, it gave them both something in common. Xander had checked out of Sanity Street months ago personally, due to combat fatigue and had forgotten what feeling normal was like.

“Dingbat? You’d leave my old man for dead when it comes to cutting put downs, Marshmallow, of course my dad is dead now or will be in 2003.” Xander split a chocolate bar in half and passed it to her. “Enjoy the last of our food apart from the four baked bean cans I bought.”

“Chocolate makes me break out.” Marcia wolfed the candy bar down anyway. “It’s going to take nearly a day and a half to reach Chicago.”

“Uh huh,” Xander confirmed.

“So if those cans of beans are the last of our food and you haven’t any dough, what are we meant to eat from Chicago to New York? Imaginary candy-floss brought to us by pixies.” Marcia snarled at him.

“A person can go a day without food. Trust me on that one.” Xander patted the container of water beside him, his last expenditure. “This is the only thing we really need. We can stop into a food hall and eat people’s leftovers before their tables get cleared in Union Station.”

“I’ve got six dollars in my purse. We can use that to buy food.” Marcia volunteered hastily. Was there no indignity this madman wouldn’t put her through?

“That’s very big of you, Marcia.” Xander smiled sincerely at her.

Marcia started to weep again.

“When you stop crying, do you wanna play I-spy to kill the time?” Xander offered impassively.

“You’re an A-grade piece of stinking crap,” was the answer to that question.

“Awesome, Marcia, that insult was large with the improvement quotient.”
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