'The Other Wedding of River Song'
Featuring the Doctor, River, Elvis and the Daleks
It was the height of time traveller kitsch.
Plush crimson shag pile carpet, vinyl chairs, neon lights, garish costumes. Elvis. Yeah, it was kitsch. It was camp. It was over the top.
"Do you take this… Doctor, to be your lawfully wedded husband?"
Through bright red lips, her mass of curls falling across her shoulders, River Song could only smile. "I do."
"And do you, Doctor, take River Song to be your lawfully wedded wife, from now until death?"
The Doctor considered. "Why not?"
"Is that an 'I do'?" Elvis asked.
"I do," the Doctor assured him, and River locked eyes with the ancient Time Lord. Yeah, it was a Vegas wedding. Vegas weddings are what you get when you don't have time to organise anything better, she had realised early on, and despite his status as its Lord, the Doctor never seemed to have enough time.
"You may now kiss the bride," Elvis proclaimed, flinging open his arms.
Right there, in front of the altar of the First Church of Elvis Presley, in front of the man himself, or at least, a man dressed like the man himself, the Doctor took River Song into his arms and he kissed her.
Their sole witness, a red-skinned Zocci with a head like a conker and a bad temper, who barely came up to the Doctor's knee, applauded and stamped his feet.
"You know, I could have gotten Elvis to do it," the Doctor said. "You know, actual Elvis. He still owes me for that thing with the Colonel and the oversized nautilus country singer from Ephelon VII." Elvis stared at him, and the Doctor just shrugged. "He thought that you'd plagiarised one of his best songs… two thousand years before he'd written it. Odd perception of the passage of time, the Ephelonians."
"What are you—?" Elvis started to say, fake Tennessee accent falling into a confused California.
"Nothing," River was quick to say. "Ignore him. He always does…" She trailed off, and turned to the Doctor in horror. "Can you hear that?"
The Doctor listened, and his face, without his smile shifting at all, seemed to tighten. "I can."
A low, droning hum. Anti-gravity engines. There, outside the brilliantly lit stained glass window, a shadow was rising. A distinctly pepper-pot shaped shadow, with an eyestalk. And a ray gun. And a plunger.
"Elvis," the Doctor said to the man that'd married him, "Conker. It would be good if you could run. Fast."
"What?" Elvis said, stunned.
River took his hand, and shoved him towards the door. "Run!"
He didn't hesitate, and the little red Zocci was hot on his heels. Spinning back to the window, River looked to the Doctor. He took her hand in his, and squeezed it once, reaching into his jacket with the other. Almost in time, with her free hand she reached for the blaster strapped beneath the flow of her wedding dress.
"We should probably get ready to run, too," the Doctor said, retrieving his sonic screwdriver.
"Do you know how hard it is to run in heels?" River asked, checking the power readouts on her blaster.
"Yes, actually," the Doctor said.
Suddenly, loud and screeching and grating and horrific, the Dalek cried out its oh-so-familiar greeting: "EX-TER-MIN-ATE!"
The stained glass window exploded inwards, and as one, sonic screwdriver and blaster raised, the Doctor and River Song, man and wife, stepped forward to face the future.