Return to the previous story Viva Las Vegas!!: Pillow Talk

Viva Las Vegas!!

Author: Useful_Oxymoron
Rating: R-rating. Includes two psychotic and violent female vampires, so expect dark humor and violent imagery. Very twisted stuff, but funny. At least, I think it's tongue-in-cheek funny. Then again, I'm nuts. This one is a combination of extreme violence, twisted imagry and complete saccharine christmas-y sweetness. Enjoy.
Disclaimer: Well, I don't own vampire Willow or vampire Tara. And if I did... do you really think I could control these two?! I'd fear for my life. Anyone who wants them can have them! I'll even throw in a set of whips.
Extra Warning: People who are militantly against the use of fur in clothing should be extra careful. Just remember it's all meant to be tongue-in-cheek. Not everything has a double meaning.
Feedback: Is cool. It's always nice to know somebody likes the crap I write.
Summary: Another part of Viva Las Vegas, which takes place in the Wishverse. Willow and Tara are getting ready for a vampire-y christmas.
Notes: Influences for this story: ZZ-Top - Viva las vegas. Motor Head - Ace of Spades. Watching Vic Fontaine on Deep Space Nine. For this one, anything by Tom Jones.

"It's gorgeous, baby," the red-haired girl smiled while the honeyblonde girl modelled one of the most expensive fur coats in the store. The salesman, eager to earn his commission on this particularly expensive coat. The two young women had came in earlier to try on the fur coats... it was easy to see that these two were lovers, considering they were all over each other... like all the time...

Still, the salesman didn't mind one bit. After all, they were lesbians with loads of money. They did ask strange questions, though. And they asked that every mirror in the store be taken away.

"How many minks went into the making of this coat again?" the red-haired one asked.

"Twenty-five, actually," he said while the honeyblonde hugged the coat.

"Hmm, twenty-five," the red-haired girl seemed lost in thought for a moment.

"Oh, what about that one!" the honeyblonde unceremoniously tossed off the expensive coat and went for an even more expensive coat... the most expensive one in the store, in fact. The salesman felt the urge to block the honeyblonde's path and help her put it on, but a glare from the red-head made him stop in his tracks. Obviously, the red-haired girl was very protective of the honeyblonde. He didn't mind as long as they wouldn't damage the coat.

The honeyblonde... Tara, he believed she was called... tried on the coat and almost swooned in delight. "Oh, wow, this feels so soft, Willow."

"That's a chinchilla-coat," smiled the salesman, rubbing his hands. "The fur of a chinchilla is ten times softer than human hair, and this coat has been lovingly hand-stitched together by the most professionally skilled hands available."

"How many chinchilla's were worked into this coat?" the red-haired girl asked matter-of-factly.

"Oh, chinchilla's are very small animals, so about two-hundred of them were..."

"Oh, how wonderful," Tara turned to Willow. "Not only has this coat been stitched together by underpaid slaves in a dirty sweatshop, two-hundred creatures had to die in the making of it! Isn't that romantic, sweetie?"

"If that isn't romantic, I don't know what it. We'll take it!" the red-haired girl proclaimed and took out her wallet. "Let's step into your office to work out the details."

SCORE! the salesman grinned. His commission would easy number in the thousand. With a steady strut he walked into the office with Willow in two. He sat down next to a small computer and punched in a few numbers, while Willow closed the door behind her.

"Well, will that be cash or credit-card, miss Rosenberg?" he asked, but Willow only grinned at him.

"Hey, baby," Willow smiled as she emerged from the office and stepped over to Tara, who was still wearing the chinchilla coat and hugging it close to her body. "Guess what? That guy thought you looked so beautiful in that coat, he decided to let you keep it for free."

"Aw, that's so nice," Tara grinned. "That's the third time tonight somebody let me keep something expensive," she said, referring to the necklace and ring she was wearing as well.

"Well," Willow embraced her wife gently and kissed her on the tip of the nose. "Like me, they know when they see pure perfection standing in front of them."

Tara chuckled and swiped a bit of blood from the corner of Willow's mouth. Tara smiled as she brought it to her mouth and gently licked off the blood. She shot Willow a knowing half-smile.

"Shall we go, sweetie?" Tara asked. "We still have more christmas shopping to do."

Willow agreed. And together, they stepped out of the store and into the neon-lighted streets of Las Vegas. Unfortunately, Tara's soft and fluffy chinchilla coat, which, of course, she wanted to wear home immediately, attracted the attention of three youngsters.

"FUR IS MURDER!" spoke one of them, a young male student wearing grunge-style clothing, as he rushed up towards her carrying a can of pink spraypaint.

Though Tara was startled and let out a bit of a cry, she caught herself quickly and grabbed the student before he could do any harm to the coat. With her vampiric strength, Tara held his wrist in an iron vice-like grip and hissed at him angrily as she took hold of the spraycan with her free hand.

"No," Tara growled. "This is murder."

With terrible force, Tara shoved the can of spraypaint into his mouth nozzle-first. For good measure, she hit the can's bottom with the flat of her hand, completely lodging it to place and let go of the student. The student flailed wildly as the spraycan emptied itself into the back of his throat. His two friends were too terrified and shocked to run... a fatal mistake.

"Sweetie," Tara pointed to the students. "Two witnesses there. Maybe you'd like to use my christmas gift for you on them. It's in the car trunk. Why don't you go and get it?"

A few moments later, a very eager Willow returned with a baseball bat, still in it's christmas wrapping and with a big pink bow tied around it. She swung it for good measure. "I love it! Thanks, baby!" she said before stepping over to the two remaining trembling protesters.

Back at their humble abode, Willow and Tara did their best to make the place look christmas-y. Aside from the bags of fake snow that the girls were emptying over the floor, their living room held an un-adorned christmas tree and a plastic santa claus with his plastic head bashed in.

"On the twelfth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me..." Tara started singing while hanging up a set of black stockings.

"Twelve hearts still beating..." Willow continued.

"Eleven old-folks choking..." Tara sung while gathered up some presents to put underneath the tree.

"Ten children dying..."

"Nine ladies screaming..."

"Eight maids a-bleeding..."

"Seven vamps a-drinking..."

"Six demons playing..."

"Five murdered priests..." Tara sang while Willow held up five rosaries before hanging them in the tree.

"Four headless birds..."

"Three French corpses..."

"Two wingless doves..."

"And a body in a hangman's tree!" the two girls sang together. Satisfied with their song, the lovers returned to their task of decorating the tree.

It was a lovely tree, about five foot tall, but it was undecorated. It only had some lights which had already been in the tree when Willow had stolen it.

"Yeah," Willow told her wife. "I took it from some guy's front yard. Chainsaw slung over my shoulder and whoops, down it went. Finders keepers, you know?"

"So why were you all cranky when you got back, sweetie?" Tara asked gently.

"Well," Willow said. "So this guy comes running out of his house, screaming his head off. So, naturally, I turn on my chainsaw and slash at him..."

"Naturally," Tara replied.

"Well, it turned out this particular chainsaw had built-in safety measures and shut down on me before it even broke the skin," Willow seemed miffed.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, sweetie," Tara shook her head. "I hate when that happens."

"So I just had to whack that guy over the head with the blade until he fell down. Then I could bring the tree home," Willow sighed. "Seriously, I'm going to write a letter of complaint to the BeaverTooth company. There wasn't anything about safety measures on the box when I got it."

"You mean when you stole it," Tara chuckled.

"It doesn't matter if I stole it or not, I still want a full refund," Willow moped. "Plus a little extra for the emotional damage. Don't they know how crippling it is when your murder weapon refuses to work properly?"

"Awww," Tara embraced her wife and kissed her neck. "Don't fret, sweetie. It's christmas, the season to be jolly, a time of merriment and disemboweling. I love you, don't be sad."

"You're right," Willow smiled. "I shouldn't think about it that much. Do we have enough stuff to decorate the tree with?"

"No," Tara sighed. "I've checked the freezer, but we're all out."

Willow shook her head and looked around the room. At least the room was more christmas-y now that the fake snow had been spread. Willow mused that she actually never had seen real snow before, but she would be surprising her wife with a two-week trip to Aspen on christmas day. Already, she was looking forward to playing around in the snow... snow that had been reddened by the blood of their victims.

"I really like your nativity scene, sweetie," Tara said, breaking Willow out of her reverie.

Willow glanced over to the nativity scene she had set up. Instead of Josef, Mary and the animals, Baby Jesus' crib was surrounded by monstrous MacFarlane Hellraiser statuettes, with Pinhead in the center looming over him.

"Ah, baby Jesus," Willow spoke, trying to imitate Pinhead's commanding voice. "We have such sights to show you..."

A few moments later, the doorbell rang. Curious, Willow and Tara opened the door... only to find that a sextet of carollers had intruded on their private property.

'God rest ye merry, gentlemen, let nothing you dismay,
Remember Christ our Savior was born on Christmas Day;
To save us all from Satanís power when we were gone astray.

"What are they doing?" Tara whispered to Willow. "They're ruining our christmas experience!"

"I agree," Willow whispered back. "Plus, they're just annoying."

The girls were getting ready to violently evict them from their property... one body-part at the time... until their remembered their current need.

"Say," Willow grinned like a shark. "Would you nice christian people like some nice christian egg-nog from the nice not-yet-christian lesbian sinners?"

"Yes," Tara nodded. "We like to be converted to the light of the Lord. Come in and preach to us..."

And so the trap was baited.

"Well," Willow said. "Our tree is decorated, baby. Gorgeous."

"We should throw it out after christmas, though," Tara said. "We don't want a repeat of last year."

"Yeah," Willow said. "That was really smelly."

"I put the rest of the carollers in the freezer, with the blood," Tara said. "Should make good catfood for our lovely Miss Kitty," she said while she watched Miss Kitty Ferocio cheerfully playing in the fake snow until she had to sneeze. After that, their beloved pet had a silly expression on her face for a moment before returning to rolling around in the fake snow again.

"Finishing touch," Willow smiled and pinned a ripped-out heart to the very top of the tree. "Just perfect."

"And so are you, my lovely Tara," Willow replied.

"Sweetie," Tara offered her wife a sultry half-smile. A few moments ago, before Willow finished decorating the tree, Tara had stepped out and returned wearing the fluffy chinchilla-coat. "I have another present for you."

Agonizingly slowly, Tara started to unbutton the coat. After the first button, Willow already knew that the only things Tara was wearing were the coat and her sexy smile... She felt her mouth go dry as she watched Tara's hands slide over the coat as they went from button to button.

When the coat was open in the front, Willow rushed to her wife and gently embraced her, sliding her hands around Tara's waist and pressing her lips to Tara's. Willow parted Tara's lips gently with her tongue and started another exploration of Tara's mouth. Their tongues met, encircling each other while the kiss deepened. Never breaking the kiss, Willow gently lay Tara down in front of the fireplace.

Christmas had come early this year. Willow had lost track of time during their passionate lovemaking. The two vampires lay spent in front of the fireplace. The coat had seen much use during the past few hours, but now it was once again worn by Tara, who was embracing Willow.

For Willow, the mix of the soft chinchilla coat and the even softer bare skin of Tara had been enough to intoxicate her with pure lust. Willow gasped while a playful Tara was sliding her fangs along Willow's earlobe.

"Hmmm," Tara held on to her lover and laid her head next to Willow's. "I love you, Willow."

"I love you too, Tara," Willow whispered softly. "So very much."

The two enjoyed the bliss for a moment longer.

"Tara, it's almost daytime," Willow whispered. "We gotta get up, pull down the shades."

"Don't wanna go to sleep yet," Tara replied groggily.

"Let's curl up in bed with a couple of good movies."

The two vampires reluctantly got up and pulled down the shades. They then headed upstairs to their bedroom. Tara immediately dove underneath the duvet, while Willow popped a few movies in the DVD-player.

"I know," Tara whispered, almost asleep. "Let's pretend it's really cold, so we can curl up together."

"Why pretend?" Willow said and went downstairs to get a bag of fake snow. After emptying it on the floor, Willow turned the air-conditioner to max and quickly curled up in bed with her wife.

"Which movies did you put in?" Tara asked

"Bad Santa and Hellraiser."

"Perfect christmas movies."




"Happy christmas. Love you."

"Happy christmas. Love you too."


Continue to the sequel Viva Las Vegas!!: The First Nights

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