Title:    Slayergate 1/?

Author: Lora Darcy

Email: [email protected]

Feedback: Please.  The more reviews I get, the better!  I have millions of ideas swirling in my head and any comments would be useful in sorting them all out.

Summary: The Nixon Administration.  Throw in vampires.  Add a slayer.  Hysterical chaos ensues!

Rating: PG-13 (Only because the Nixon Administration's actions are rated PG-13… Hehe)

Disclaimer: Concept is my own idea.  All Nixon staff members were/are real people and no offense is intended. Reeves and Woodward/Bernstein are the authors of the books that inspired this story.  Vampire stuff belong to Joss Whedon.

Notes: Just a funny idea I got in the middle of the night after reading a biography on Nixon's years in the White House.  Hope someone else finds it enjoyable. Must say, despite my biography reading, my Nixon still sounds like someone from the movie Dick.  Oh well…  All Nixon information, dates, facts, etc are taken from the book Nixon: Alone in the White House by Richard Reeves.   My interpretation of Nixon Administration is taken from his book.  All later Watergate scandal stuff is also taken from All the President's Men  by Woodward and Bernstein. 

ATTENTION: Guess what?  Yay! I was good and re-edited this story too. Tada! A new chapter should be up this week.

Here goes nothing!

Time: September, 1969

Place: The White House

"Excuse me, Mr. President, sir!" R. H. Haldeman exclaimed, stepping into the Oval Office.  "Something extremely important has come up!"

 "What do you want?" Nixon barked, looking up from his desk.  "Don't you know I'm in the middle of something right now?"  The president frowned at his chief of staff and began to wave a paper-filled fist in the air.  "Have you seen the latest news summaries?" 

 "Why, of course, Mr. President," Haldeman replied slowly.  "In fact, that's part of the reason–"

"That damned press!" Nixon cut off, his face beginning to turn an unpleasant shade of red.  "They're always out to get me!  That's it!  I've had it.  Don't let the New York Times or the Washington Post ever be allowed White House interviews.  Don't let them come to press conferences.  Don't let them get near Richard Nixon!  First, they criticize my behavior and my personality.  Now, they're blaming me for those damned murders we've been reading about.  Saying I'm ignoring domestic issues and all that.  I don't like this kind of thing."

"Actually, Mr. President, that's what I'm here to talk about today." Haldeman nervously licked his lips, waiting for the president's next reaction.

Nixon angrily set his news reports on his desk.  "You're here to talk about the damned press? Don't ya know I've got a dinner with that prime minister of France in an hour?  I can't talk about the nosey hack reporters without getting indigestion.  And I can't eat all that fancy froo-froo French crap if I'm suffering from damn stomach acid."

"Sorry, sir," Haldeman answered, shaking his head.  "I'm not here about the press, although I guarantee you we are working as hard as possible to control them, sir."  He paused for a moment, considering his next words.  "Ehrlichman has found some interesting information.  Through the *ahem* phone taps, we have unearthed some rather… special and unusual data about the recent murders nationwide."

"What do ya mean, 'special' information?"  Nixon grumbled, sitting down in his presidential chair.  "We aren't talking about retards, are we?  You know my opinions on them.  There are far too many retards running around these days.  They're everywhere!  Getting into political offices, drooling around DC, blaming me for Vietnam.  Bob, I don't like them at all."

"Mr. President, sir, I don't think this has anything to do with… retards."  Haldeman informed Nixon seriously. 

"Well then, what's it all about?" Nixon snapped.  "H, what's it all…"  The president stopped, realizing how angry he sounded.  It was only a few months into his presidency and he was already abandoning all of his personal resolutions.  Somewhere in his desk was a piece of yellow notebook paper saying that he planned on working on his "spiritual" image.  Nixon sighed.  So much for that idea.  He didn't think anything spiritual would end up in the presidency.  That sort of thing just didn't mesh with the White House atmosphere.  He'd have to throw away that note as soon as he got the chance.  "As I was saying, what's this all about then?"

"Mr. Nixon, uh, it seems that the recent murders have to do with…" Haldeman paused, taking a deep breath.  "Vampires!" He finally shot out, blushing slightly at his statement.

"What are you talking about?  Vampires!  Vampires?"  Nixon chuckled to himself.  "Seems like you guys have been watching one too many of those damned new horror movies.  I always said that movies were bad.  First with that horrible West Side Story propaganda crap.  Now those Hollywood brats have gone and polluted my staff's minds with vampire bullshit.  I don't need this.  Next chance I get those blasted Hollywood Democrats are getting what they deserve!"

Haldeman sighed.  He knew that it would be difficult to convince Nixon that vampires truly exist.  "I'm afraid that vampires are real.  You see, after listening the tapes, Kissinger and I did a bit of investigating ourselves."  Haldeman set his briefcase on the president's desk, and slowly opened it.  "We knew that the phone taps seemed a bit unreliable.  After a late night stroll in downtown Washington D.C., we became sure of the existence of vampires.  And to make sure you'd believe us, we got you these."  The chief of staff pulled out several black and white photographs.  "Mr. President, here's all the proof you'll need."

The black and white photographs were spread out across Nixon's desk.  One showed a horrible fanged face of a vampire.  Another showed the same "man" with his teeth in a young woman's neck.  The last showed the now-bloody vampire dropping the dead girl on the ground.

Worried, Nixon furrowed his eyebrows.  "How do we get rid of these… these vampires?"

"Apparently, we don't," was Haldeman's strange reply.  "There's some sort of girl… a slayer, they call her.  She is…" He paused, digging through his briefcase.  "I know I've got that message somewhere…  Hold on…"  Suddenly he found a tattered piece of parchment, obviously torn out of some aged book.  "'Into every generation a slayer is born.  One girl, in all the world, a chosen one.  One born with the strength and skill to hunt the vampires.'  It's her job to find these vampires and kill them."

"How does she help me?"  Nixon asked, frowning.  "I mean, how does this shaper or whatever her name is, get rid of this problem?"

"It seems that she kills these vampires with wooden stakes.  It's a very independent thing…."

"I want her!  Get her here!  I don't want any vampires waltzing into the Oval Office, trying to bite my neck and eat me or anything like that.   Get that slapper girl here!"

Haldeman cleared his throat.  "We don't think that would be very wise, Mr. President. As you know, all White House employees are eventually made public.  We can't have the American people knowing we have some teenage girl spending her nights at the White House.  She's not even of voting age and lives in Bulgaria or some such place."  He paused, a small smile growing on his face.  "Besides, it doesn't seem that the vampires are any threat to you. In fact, we may be able to use them to our advantage."

"You mean they can help me out?"  Nixon questioned.  "How?  Give me all the facts."

"Well, there is past precedent of White House cooperation with vampires.  They can be especially useful for dealing with more… secretive actions."  Haldeman's smile widened.  "Kennedy even used them.  How else do you think he was able to steal those votes from you in Chicago?  The dead really were voting.  In the form of vampires, that is."

"Kennedy used them?!?"  Nixon exclaimed.  "That's it.  I'm not about to have that damn Jack one up me.  Nixon's better than him.  I want some vampires on my staff.  Get me on the line with one now.  Immediately!"