Chapter: Chapter Twenty – Viva Las Vegas

Author: Queen Akasha

Rating: NC17 in some chapters

Summary: B/S. Season Seven.

Disclaimer: So, lying in bed with Spike the other day, I said to him, "Honey, what's up with this Joss guy? Does he think he owns you or what?" He gazed at me with his azure blue eyes, stretching his torso so that his rippling abs rippled even more, causing my eyes to widen in delight. "Actually, pet, he does," he replied, before vanishing in a puff of smoke. I guess I have to study my witchcraft manual more – clones are so hard to make.

Spoilers: This is my fictional season seven. Anything up to the end of S6 is fair game. I'm Alternate Universe from about "Normal Again." (Spike didn't get his soul)

Distribution: Fer Shure!!!!!! Let me know and I'll send you updates.

Dedication: This chapter is dedicated to you loyal readers still hanging in there. My ideas are back now, and I almost no longer have two jobs, so I'm hoping to post more frequently. Please accept my apologies – there's still a long way to go yet. Hope this was worth the wait. (Did I tell you I really like Anya?)

Authors Note: So sorry for the long time between chapters. Got a new (second) job this summer (sigh) that doesn't allow me to be at my computer as much as I'd like. Don't you wish money just fell from the sky????? >)

Xander turned and looked out the window at the bright lights of the strip. Anya smiled affectionately at him. He tended to treat her like an unruly child, when in fact she was many times his elder. But now, fascinated by the bright, flashing lights, he looked adorably childish himself.

She twisted the ring on her finger. *Cubic Zirconia,* she thought. *I never thought I would settle for anything less than the real thing. But, as long as our love is real, nothing else matters.* But she felt nervous.

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Xander ushered Anya out of the airport. He had excitedly coordinated the retrieval of their luggage, and was grinning widely as they walked out the doors. "What are you smiling at, Xander?" Anya wondered.

"I have something up my sleeve," he smiled, "and I hope you'll like it."

Anya noticed a man dressed in a white jumpsuit with sparkly designs on it. His dark hair was combed into a high pompadour, and he was carrying a cardboard sign that read "Harris". "Xander?" she nudged him, pointing at the man. "Our ride," Xander said, steering her towards the man, who was standing next to a large pink car.

"What do you think, Anya?" queried Xander anxiously. The car, she now noticed, was painted with musical notes, and slogans were stenciled on the sides. She read, "Viva Las Vegas, Heartbreak Hotel, Blue Suede Shoes, Hound-dog, why, Xander, I'm sure this refers to that musician, Elvis Presley!"

Xander grinned happily. "Yep, honey. Did you like him?"

"Like him?" Anya replied. "I, ..... ," she stifled her next comment. It wouldn't do Xander any good to know that Anya had once dated Elvis Presley. She could be discreet when she wanted. "I like his music, Xander."

Xander smiled proudly. "So do I, Anya. You'll like this evening, I think."

He helped her into the pink Cadillac, and said to the driver, "The Chapel, please, and step on it." Turning to Anya, he muttered, "I've always wanted to tell someone to step on it." She smiled.
 
 

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The driver ceremoniously handed them out of the car at the steps of a large, gaudy building. "The Elvis Chapel" blinked on and off in bright red neon over the arched doorway. Blue neon shoes danced across the front façade. A neon Elvis shimmied and ground his hips next to the door. Anya had a momentary flashback - *Oh, the things he used to do with those hips,* before she brought herself back to the present. Xander smiled at her nervously. "Anya, is this OK?" he asked, tentatively taking her hand. "I wanted this to be really different from the other, well, you know," he faltered.

Anya squeezed his hand and impulsively kissed him. "Xander, I wanted to do something like this for our first wedding, which ended so disastrously," she said, telling a little white lie, "but I didn't think you would go for it." Xander swallowed. Everything felt unreal to him. "Are you ready?" he asked hopefully.

"Ready as I'll ever be," Anya replied. "Will you go through with it this time?" she asked practically.

"Anya," Xander said seriously, turning her by the shoulders to face him, "I'm worried that YOU'LL back out."

"Yes," Anya considered, "that WOULD be a good way to get back at you." And then she laughed at the look of terror that crossed Xander's face. "But, no, I won't do that. I want to marry you."

"And I want to marry you, too," he said, feeling relieved. "Shall we?" He offered her his arm. "Yes, let's do," she replied, taking his arm and letting him escort her into the chapel.
 
 

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Half an hour later, Anya was ready to walk down the aisle for the second time in under a year. Of course, the first time she walked alone and crying. This time, an oriental Elvis impersonator would be escorting her. *He must be 'Elvis in Hawaii',* Anya thought, eyeing the man's glittery jumpsuit with an eagle outlined in rhinestones on the back and several scarves draped around his neck. She smoothed her dress in satisfaction. The chapel had a large costume room, and Anya had chosen a dress similar to one she remembered Priscilla wearing at an evening party that Anya had attended, many years ago. It was crimson slub silk, with a tight fitting bodice, short sleeves, and an overskirt of crimson tulle. The skirt belled out just below her knees, almost like a crinoline. She had added crimson evening gloves that reached halfway up her arms, and matching stiletto heels. *Fuck me shoes,* she thought, *for after the wedding.* Her hair was done up in a beehive, much in the style of the 50's, to compliment her outfit. She had on large sparkly jewelry to match. She was very happy with her appearance.

As she paused with her escort in the doorway to the chapel, she heard the first strains of one of Elvis's biggest hits. The words began as she walked down the aisle of the dimly lit room.

"Wise men say

Only fools rush in

But I can't help

Falling in love with you."

*Whoever the singer is,* she thought, *he's pretty good.* As she got closer to the front, a spotlight came on, shining on the altar, and she caught her breath. *Drop dead gorgeous,* was her first thought, and then, "Xander?" she breathed.

He smiled, not interrupting his singing. He was dressed as young Elvis, in tight black leather. His hair was done in a high pompadour, and somehow he had added sideburns to the look. As he sang the romantic words to the familiar song, Anya felt her heart expand, and, for the first time since their first ill-fated wedding, she truly forgave him. The love on his face as he sang to her caused her eyes to fill with tears. She stood silently, her escort bowing and backing away, as Xander sang the last strains of the song, holding out his hand to Anya.

"Take my hand

Take my whole life too

Cause I can't help

Falling in love with you.

No I can't help

Falling in love with you."

Anya reached for Xander's hand, and, as the last notes died away, she whispered, tears flowing freely from her beautiful eyes, "I've fallen in love with you, too."

Xander just nodded, his eyes suspiciously bright, and they turned to face the justice of the peace, who turned out to be the oriental Elvis impersonator. "Dearly Beloved," he began .............
 
 
 
 

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"I now pronounce you man and wife," the justice of the peace said, with his patented Elvis sneer on his lips. "You may kiss the bride."

Their lips met, kissing deeply and passionately, tongues dueling for prominence. After about five minutes, they heard a discreet "Ahem," from beside them. They broke the kiss, somewhat embarrassed, and noticed an older lady standing beside them, dressed in a short tight black dress that looked ready to explode from overload. Her blonde hair was teased and sprayed, and she had more makeup than Tammy Faye, but she grinned at them good naturedly.

"Sorry to bother you two, when you're so taken up with one another," she said in a voice maid hoarse by many years of cigarettes and whiskey. "But Chuck has a show tonight, and if you want your picture taken with him we should do it now."

"I'm sorry," said Xander, "I was busy kissing my wife."

"Yes, I am sorry also," Anya added, "I was busy kissing my husband." They grinned at each other, and fell back into a massive liplock.

The blonde grinned, and positioned Chuck, the impersonator, behind them (on a stool because he was a little short) and took some pictures. Later, when Xander and Anya looked at them, all they could see was them, kissing, and a pair of almond slanted eyes smiling at them over their heads, topped with a high black ducktail hairdo.

When the newlyweds finally came up for air, the blonde introduced herself as Cheryl, Chuck's wife. Cheryl gave them a complimentary bottle of champagne, two flute glasses emblazoned with "We got hitched at the Elvis Chapel!", and twenty dollars worth of dollar tokens to be used in the casino just down the road. Anya took Cheryl aside, explaining something earnestly. Cheryl looked Xander up and down, and smiled. "Well, sweetie, we don't normally. But I have a feeling about you two. I get these feelings every once in awhile, don't I, Chuck." Chuck, apparently love stricken by his wife, nodded in agreement. "I've had them for years, even when I was a showgirl. Anyhow, you two seem special. I trust you to bring 'em back tomorrow." Anya hugged her and returned to Xander's side.

"What was that all about?" Xander wondered.

"Oh," Anya replied, "I just asked her if we could keep the costumes for tonight, for use in a role playing sexual fantasy. You know, you can be Elvis and I'll be 'Cilla."

Xander, for once not embarrassed by Anya's frankness, said, in an Elvisey kind of tone, "Well, that's all right, mama. Let's go – I've got us a room booked at the Heartbreak Hotel."

"Is that a new hotel, Xander?" Anya asked.

He smiled. "No such thing, wife. Not for us, anyhow. We're staying at the MGM Grand. Just don't you step on my Blue Suede Shoes on the way there."

"Xander, you're wearing black leather boots," she puzzled. "OH, I get it. Songs!" She smiled in enjoyment. "Yes, that IS funny. Because you ain't nothing but a HOUND dog."

"Yes I am, baby," he replied with his best Elvis sneer, "and you're MRS. Hound Dog."

"Don't be cruel, Xander. Or you'll be all shook up!!" Anya ordered, propelling Xander towards the door and a private hotel room. "We have to go – we only have these clothes until tomorrow. And I want you to show me your hunka hunka burnin' love!"

"Anya, I want to love you tender," Xander replied, kissing her gently on the lips.

"As long as you do it my way, Xander," she said, shoving him out the door.

"Viva Las Vegas!" Xander exclaimed, waving at Chuck and Cheryl, heading out the door and towards his wedding night.

"Viva Las Vegas!" they replied, watching Mr. and Mrs. Xander Harris step into the pink Caddy.

"Well, Cheryl, what do you think?" Chuck tipped his head to the side and looked up at his wife, about a foot taller than him.

"Chuck," she replied fondly, "we have a lot of differences, but believe me they have more than us. They'll do fine. I've got a good feeling about those kids. A very good feeling!"
 
 

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TBC
 
 
 
 

That was fun!!! I've always wanted to be married at the Elvis Chapel. Maybe I should marry Xander. (I'm just trying to make Spike jealous. Shhhh!!)

So now where are we. Spike and Buffy are on their way back to Sunnydale with JB, Xander and Anya are enjoying their wedding night. What about the rest of the gang? (And don't think I've forgotten about the beautiful Tara.)

I'm not sure who we're going to check in with next. It just depends on who's more insistent to be heard. I miss Willow, Dawn and Giles, but sometimes Spike is so bossy. We'll see who wins in the next chapter.
 

Please review! Queen_Akasha@telus.net
 

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