Title: Dr. Cameron Goes To Washington
Author: Natasha
Fandom: White House RPS crack!fic
Pairing: Bush/Cameron
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Squicky (US President/Fundamentalist, implied Bush twincest), crappy political satire, possible treason.
Unbeta-ed. All mistakes are George W. Bush's.
Disclaimer: This did not happen. A mere figment of my imagination, like WMD's were a figment of Tenet's and 2.5 million jobs were a figment of Bush's. In other words, complete and utter lies.
Dedicated to acari for proving that reality can be better than fiction.



"What's he doing in there?" Agent Murphy was pacing the hallway. "We're already fifteen minutes late to the Promise Keepers thing."

"I don't want to know," Agent Ramirez really wanted a cigarette and almost pulled his pack out of his jacket pocket before remembering for the thousandth time that the White House, practically the entire District and the country for that matter, were smoke-free. "The deal was, Dr. Cameron was squeezed in at the last minute. In and out."

"Pumpkin, come in," Agent Murphy was saying into his cuff. "Pumpkin, we have a situation. The prince is still at the ball." He stared at the wall, holding his earpiece. "No, the door is shut. He's been holed up in there with Cinderella twenty minutes and counting. No sir, no, I can't hear what they're talking about. Yeah, yeah, I know," he nodded vigorously into his cuff. "He promised the Promise Keepers. Whaddya gonna do? Stay where you are Pumpkin; I'll send word as soon as that door opens."

He nodded at Agent Ramirez. Ramirez knew what to do. He didn't want to do it. But hey, he'd wanted this job his whole life and he'd just have to take the bad with the good. He slid quietly around the corner, pushed his right foot against the cream-colored molding while pressing against the seventh eagle from the right, thirteenth from the top on the presidential wallpaper. The wall opened soundlessly. Ramirez squeezed in as it shut right behind him. He was in a space the size of a broom closet. Now it was just him and the video monitor. He plugged in his earpiece.

The President had his back turned to the camera and was looking out the window. It almost looked like he was thinking or something. More likely just surprised by something Dr. Cameron had said, because from the looks of the briefing papers, this fellow was just full of interesting ideas. So interesting in fact, that Ramirez had spent a few boring hours on First Lady duty last night wondering if his wife would be open to some experimentation. She'd said herself that the new aide over at Defense was a good-looking young guy and Ramirez could see her point. The mike crackled and Ramirez pulled himself back to the monitor. The President had turned back to face the Doctor, standing in front of the desk, right on top of the presidential seal. "Now Paul, are you sure?"

"Absolutely," said Cameron, smiling. "All of my theories have been rigorously tested."

"Um yeah. Scientific-like?"

"Of course, sir. My institute is scientific, remember?"

"Oh yeah, right. Institute for the Investimagation of Scientifc something."

"Sexuality," Cameron said primly.

"Wow. I shoulda majored in that."

Cameron coughed politely. Ramirez rolled his eyes. Just as well Murphy wasn't here to see this.

"So now, correct me if I'm wrong Paul, but you're saying that the best orgasm I could get is from a man?"

"That's what I'm saying."

"But you're also saying that Laura's been missing out because she's married to me? "

"Well sir, there are exceptions to every rule."

The President wandered around the room. "Makes me think I should find out what those twins of mine are up to I've been telling Laura at their age they don't need to go everywhere together."

Ramirez bit his lip until it bled.

Cameron cleared his throat softly. Bush stopped right in front of him.

"And you found this out how?"

Cameron didn't blink. Ramirez had to give him credit. The chief might be a dumbfuck, but he had one helluva stare.

"Throught exhaustive and extensive research, Mr. President."

"Yeah, I'll bet it was exhausting. " The President wrinkled his brow. "Now as you know Paul, what I'm proposing has half the country and even a good chunk of Republicans all riled up. Like my daddy always said, they might be lily-livered commie traitors, but you've still got to get them to vote for you. I'm thinking this amendment thing isn't such a good idea with the election coming up and all."

"But sir," Cameron was looking a bit concerned now. "If we don't deal with this at the highest levels right now, there'll be no stopping it. Once a man finds out what another man can do for him, he'll never look at a woman again. The only people having babies will be Mexicans."

"Well, I don't know Paul. There are some very good-looking Mexican men. My own secretary of something is one, and he's pretty darn cute. And some federal judge too. Just appointmented him, in fact. "

Cameron cut in, careful not to interrupt. "What I meant sir, is that people will stop having babies."

The President waved his hand. "No problem, this country's got enough people. We need cheap labor, we open the border some more. There's a reason I got elected president you know. I know the issues."

Cameron almost sighed audibly.

Ramirez had stuffed his entire pack of cigarettes into his mouth and was biting down hard. This listening post had thin walls, and making any kind of a sound, even a stifled giggle, just wouldn't do.

"Mr. President," Cameron said. "I think there's only one way I can show you what I mean, and how important it is you understand the gravity of the homosexual threat. Do you have a moment?"

"Well, just a minute, Paul. I think I'm already late for my Promise Keepers speech . . . "

Cameron cracked a smile. "I wouldn't worry about them too much sir. Although I wish they wouldn't double up while sharing hotel rooms. It's dangerous."

The President folded his arms across his chest. "Dangerous?"

Cameron moved in close. "Yes, dangerous," he said softly. "Have you ever spent the night entangled in the limbs of a young man, all heat and hardness and . . ." he swallowed hard.

"Well, I once got really stoned and passed out on top of some Alabama National Guard Lieutenant. And when we woke up I was really hot and couldn't remember what happened."

"Were you sore?" Cameron said cautiously.

"How do you mean? Like a crick in my neck? Come to think of it, I did pull a hamstring, but that could have been from the dentist's chair the day before."

"Well, the point is sir, it's a terrible temptation, and I fear for those men."

"Who?"

"Promise Keepers."

"Oh yeah, right. Do you want to come with? You could speak." The President beamed.

Cameron shook his head gravely. "No thank you sir. My place is here with you. If I can't convince you of this great danger facing our society, it does me no good to speak in front of thousands." He took a deep breath. "If I could just have a few more moments of your time, I believe I could prove my point."

"Jesus Christ!" Ramirez croaked around his Marlboro carton, which at least stifled the sound.

The President grinned. "You know what Paul, I think I'll take you up on that. I do appreciate a different opinion every now and then, and you're like a breath of fresh water. Go for it."

"I knew you'd be reasonable, sir." Cameron had his hand on the Leader of the Free World's belt buckle.

"Now hold on there, buster," The President frowned, but didn't back away.

"This is a purely scientific demonstration, sir," Cameron unbuckled the belt with one hand and unzipped with the other. "Just so you can understand the great danger this country is in."

Ramirez covered his eyes.

There were a few moments of relative quiet. Then there was some taking of the Lord's name in vain, although Ramirez couldn't throw stones on that score. Then there was a pretty loud Woo-Hoo, something along the lines of Howard Dean's Iowa yell.

"Bring up the car, Pumpkin," Ramirez muttered into his cuff, eyes still averted. He scrambled out of his space and into the hallway.

"What happened to your cigs, man?" Murphy grinned.

"Don't ask," Ramirez straightened his tie and stuffed his mangled Marlboros into a pocket as the door to the oval office opened.

The President was clapping Cameron on the back. "Now Paul, you have to come to dinner tonight. No, I insist. All the boys will be there. Pinko commie liberals or not, we're gonna have ourselves an amendment."