r1-Eli_Anne-p3
Crystal Café
October 24, 1986
12:00 p.m."Now Fox, I don't want you to worry about the others on the team. They'll feel and act jealous of you for a while, but soon you'll fit in." Patterson watched as the young agent nervously picked at his lunch of grilled fish and steamed vegetables. The best profilers tended to be a high-strung, emotional bunch - it appeared Mulder would be no an exception.
"Thank you, sir, for your concern. I really want to do a good job. Do you have an assignment picked out for me already?"
"As a matter of fact I do. There is a case that has been eluding us for several months. The whole team working on it is burnt out, so a new, fresh opinion would help. The team is working locally, although the murders are taking place in Richmond, VA. The autopsies are being done at Quantico."
Mulder paled at the thought of autopsies, of dead bodies. He didn't even like to look at dead animals on the side of the road. Please, don't make me see dead bodies! he thought.
"You'll be reporting to Mike Hatter. He's the head of the profiling team working on the case and he's been around a long time. He is a tough agent - he won't cut you any slack."
"I don't expect anybody to coddle me."
"He won't, he won't. But it'll be hard for you since you've never been in the field."
"Ah." Mulder didn't know what to say. He felt like he was having lunch with his father. He remembered how his father had been when they met for lunch and Mulder had told him he was joining the FBI. His father actually laughed at him! He called him a pretty little nancy boy who'd never cut it in the macho world of law enforcement. He hated when his father called him a sissy. Nor was his father impressed when he heard how Mulder had gotten a plum BSU assignment right out of Quantico. His father looked very serious and kept warning him not to be a disappointment. Mulder didn't think his father would ever be happy with his performance.
"Agent Mulder? Mulder?" repeated Patterson in an effort to get the young agent's attention. He had gotten a faraway look in his eye. Mulder's eyes finally refocused on Patterson's face with a sweet, "deer in the headlights" expression. Patterson felt a hot thread of desire work its way down his spine into his penis. He'd have to be careful around this one or he'd completely lose his cool.
"Yes, sir? I'm sorry, sir, I was distracted. What were you saying?"
"I can't emphasize enough to you how important this case is. We have to solve it and soon. There has been a lot of bad publicity surrounding our efforts, and we don't look too good. You are my secret weapon. You are responsible for getting this UNSUB identified and captured."
"Me, sir?" gulped Mulder.
"Yes. Hatter has shown that he and his team can't do it. I'm not taking them off the effort, but it's only to save face. He's a good agent and close to retirement - I don't want a bungled assignment on his record. You won't be getting much of the credit, either, even if you personally cuff the bastard and bring him in. It stinks, I know, but it's the only way it will work right now. Do you understand? We have to be seen as a team."
"Yes, sir," he replied quietly, trembling inwardly. This was all up to him? To catch a murderer? He didn't even know anything about the case. He would fail for sure - and disappoint Patterson, his father, every victim's family. And he didn't care about personal glory - in fact, he would rather be a member of a team that got equal credit. He closed his eyes for a moment to gather himself together.
"I understand, sir. When do I start?"
"We'll go see Agent Hatter when we get back."
***
J. Edgar Hoover Building
Men's Washroom
Washington D.C.
October 24, 1986
2:30 p.m.Mulder could barely hold himself up as he vomited up his lunch. He had his arms braced against the sides of the stall, and he was bent almost in half from the force of his heaving. When it seemed the tide had receded he shakily flushed the toilet and sank to his knees; he leaned his face against the cold tile of the wall and closed his eyes.
I'll never be able to go back in that room again, he thought. I can't look at those pictures, those girls...
He fought back another bout of nausea, barely maintaining control. He couldn't stop a few strangled sobs from bubbling out of him.
"Hello? Are you ok in there?" a quiet voice asked outside the stall.
"Yeah, yeah, I'm ok," he shakily replied, forcing himself to stand up. "I'll be out in a couple of minutes."
"Agent Mulder, it's me, Quentin. We met outside in the parking lot, remember?"
"Uh huh."
"I saw you running out of the BSU offices down here. I remember my first day, too. You'll be ok."
"Thanks, Agent Statler," Mulder said as he hesitantly left the stall. The sincere concern on the handsome agent's face made Mulder want to cry again. He half-stumbled over to the sink to rinse out his mouth and douse his face. Statler handed him some paper towels, smiling gently.
"Do you want me to go get Patterson for you? Or your agent in charge?"
"NO!" barked Mulder. He could still here the laughing and catcalls from the other agents on Hatter's team as Mulder ran out of the conference room. One of the agents had placed all the worst crime scene and autopsy photos on the top of the stack. Everyone had been surreptitiously watching the new guy open the folder and flip through the contents. Mulder had gotten to only the third picture before his face turned a light green and he had run for the men's room.
"You don't have to be ashamed of your reaction, Mulder. Many a tough, grizzled army veteran has puked up his guts when looking at his first case photos. In fact, it took me about a week to get the guts to look at the pictures of my first assignment, and it certainly wasn't a case for some pyscho serial killer."
"Really?"
"Really. Pretty soon you'll be busy eating your rare hamburger with extra ketchup and mayo and a pickle on the side while flipping through the worst stuff." Agent Statler stopped when he saw Mulder turn pale again and sway a little.
"Sorry, Mulder, I didn't mean to do that to you. Why don't I help you get to the lounge, where you can lie down for a while?"
"No, I'll be ok. I can't disappoint Patterson - they're counting on me."
"But this is your first day; surely they can cut you some slack."
"I don't want any slack," Mulder snapped. Agent Statler backed off a step.
"I'm sorry Agent Statler. I didn't mean to yell at you like that. I want to do a good job and I can't let my personal weaknesses get in the way."
"Mulder, if you keep this up, you'll be dead before you're 30. Believe me, this is only a job."
"Thanks, I'll remember that. I do sometimes go a little overboard and work too hard."
"Let me at least walk back with you to BSU.""Ok." Mulder smiled appreciatively at the handsome agent. He still felt a little shaky on his feet; when he started for the door, he swayed erratically until Agent Statler caught his arm. He murmured his thanks.
The two agents made their way slowly down the hall to BSU. Mulder felt relieved to finally talk to someone who didn't have incredibly high expectations of him to succeed or not so secret desires to see him fail. Maybe Statler and he could become friends. He was cute - not so cute as the hunk from the swimming pool, but definitely worthy of a second look.
"Mulder, if you're not busy Saturday afternoon, my roommate and I are having a party - nothing big, just a pool party and cookout. Agents from lots of departments will be there with their spouses, lovers, significant others, what have you; it'll be a chance to meet people. Bring a date if you want."
"Thanks, Agent Statler. I'd really like that. Is it ok if I go stag?"
"Sure! I'll send you an interoffice memo with the time, address, and all other pertinent facts. See you then?"
"Yes. Thanks again!"
"No problem! I've got to go now - my A. D. will be wondering what happened to me!"
"Bye!" Mulder said to Statler's retreating back. He smiled, thinking that this didn't turn out to be such a bad day after all. This party could be a chance to meet agents outside BSU; a very good thing THAT would be, thought Mulder. He was musing over what to wear as he turned around to go back into BSU when he ran into Patterson. Literally. Patterson had an unpleasant frown on his face.
"Ss…ss…ssorry I took so long, sir. I was trying to pull myself together after looking at those pictures. I…I…I've never seen anything like that before, not even at Quantico."
"It's ok, Mulder. Just get back to the conference room. Hatter took the pictures out; you can look at all the other doco in there. It's a common prank to pull on a new guy."
"Yes, sir, I'm going right now."Patterson watched as Mulder hurried away. He had seen Mulder high-tail it to the restroom after looking at the file on the murders. Mulder was such a sensitive kid he would take every little joke the team pulled on him seriously. It would isolate him from them so Patterson could mold him easier.
However, he was worried about this Agent Statler. If Mulder were to develop a friendship with Statler, and through him others, it would provide him with too many ways out. Patterson felt a deep hatred of Statler since he had rejected a date with him a few years ago. He couldn't believe the handsome agent preferred some nobody personal trainer in a gym over the head of BSU. Periodically he had fantasies of tying Statler to some piece of gym equipment and fucking him in front of that muscle-bound lover of his. As Patterson mulled over his fantasy, his victim slowly changed from the blond, blue-eyed Statler to a hazel-eyed brunette with long, slender legs.
Stop that, Patterson thought as he jerked himself out of the fantasy. He brought Mulder into BSU to profile crimes, not suck cock. Although, who said you couldn't do them both at the same time? Patterson slowly walked back to his office, making plans for the future; the first thing he'd have to do is get rid of that troublemaker Statler.
***
Jo's turn!