pieces_r3-Jo -p1

***

Patterson's apartment
November 21, 1986
8:30 p.m.

Mulder felt woozy as he stood next to his boss on the elevator heading up to the older man's apartment. All Mulder really wanted to do was go home to his place, where he could sulk in peace. It was the anniversary of Samantha's disappearance and as usual on this date he was depressed. However, this year he had been too preoccupied by his job to dwell on his grief during the day. He felt miserable enough at not being able to solve this present case. More men would die because of his incompetence.

He moved a little away from Patterson. His boss kept intruding into his personal space, and it made him uncomfortable. Mulder reasoned that Patterson was too drunk to realize that his body was improperly brushing up against his subordinate's. One cup of coffee, Mulder thought, then he'd tell Patterson that he had to go home. He needed to concentrate on the case; there was some important clue he was missing. The elevator chimed on Patterson's floor and Mulder followed him off.

Patterson grinned back at his scrumptious employee. "This way, Fox, I have just the thing to take your mind off the case."

"Sir, shouldn't I be concentrating on the case? You do want me to catch the UNSUB, don't you?" Mulder asked, standing impatiently as Patterson unlocked his apartment door.

"Nonsense, Fox. Your problem is you're wound up. You need to relieve some pressure and clear your mind." Patterson opened the door and allowed Mulder to proceed him into the apartment.

Mulder stopped a few feet into the room and waited while his boss turned on the lights. Patterson hit the switch and the room was awash in a dim light and the stereo came on playing a soft, romantic tune. Mulder was surprised by the elegance of the furnishings. His boss, it appeared, had expensive tastes.

"Do you like it, Fox?" Patterson's husky voice sounded in his right ear as large hands grasped Mulder's shoulders from behind.

"You have a very nice place, sir," Mulder replied nervously.

"Bill, Fox. We're not in the office now."

Mulder stiffened as his boss's hands started kneading his shoulder. "Sir, what are you doing?"

"Bill. You need to relax, Fox. That's your problem, you're too tense. Here, take your coat off and I'll give you a backrub." Patterson started to take Mulder's overcoat from him.

"Ah, Bill, maybe I better be going."

"Do I have to pull rank on you, Agent Mulder?" Patterson barked.

"Sir?"

"You do want to solve this case don't you? You don't want anymore deaths on your hands. Do you, Fox?"

"Yes— No, sir." Mulder swallowed, looking at him with wide eyes.

"Good. Now take off your suit coat, tie, and dress shirt! I'm giving you a relaxing massage," Patterson ordered as he hung up both overcoats in the hall closet.

Mulder had a deer caught in the headlights look on his face as he started to undo his tie. His fingers shook, but he finally got the tie off, he rolled it up and placed it in his suit coat pocket. Then slowly shrugged out of his coat.

"Hurry up, boy, I'm not going to bite you," Patterson said, taking the suit coat from Mulder and draping it on the back of a dining room chair. "The shirt. Come on snap to it, Fox." Patterson licked his lips hungrily as Mulder removed his dress shirt, revealing a sleeveless undershirt that hugged his toned, youthful frame. "The undershirt, too. I don't want to get any massage oil on it."

"Bill, this really isn't necessary," Mulder said, recovering slightly from his initial shock.

"You're not afraid of me are you, Fox?"

"No. I—"

"Good, now the undershirt."

Mulder looked at him nervously. This was his boss, surely he could trust him. Patterson was a FBI Section Chief for Christsake! What did he have to be afraid of? Mulder peeled off the shirt and handed it to the older man who draped it over the chair with the rest of his clothes.

"Give me your gun, then go and sit over on the sofa." Patterson kept his face emotionless as his cock twitched at the sight of his youthful agent standing half-naked in his apartment. He took the gun from Mulder and placed it on the table, then he went to the bar to prepare Mulder a special drink. He filled a glass up with ice, added a little soda water and a couple of shots of scotch. Then he pulled a small bottle out of the drawer. He unscrewed the cap and dumped the contents into the drink. Patterson stirred the drink with his finger. His body blocked what he was doing from Mulder. He mixed a similar drink for himself, but used half the amount of scotch and didn't put in the secret ingredient. "The problem with you, Fox, is that you are trying too hard, and you allowed Hatter to get under your skin. Here drink this, it will help you unwind."

"What is it?" Mulder asked, sniffing the drink.

"A shot of scotch and soda water."

"I don't usually drink, Bill, and I've already had way too much this evening," Mulder said, trying to hand the glass back.

"Just one more glass won't hurt you. Drink it, while I work the knots out of your shoulders," Patterson coaxed, setting his own drink on the table. He left the room and came back a few seconds later with a bottle of massage oil.

Mulder took a nervous sip from the glass, hoping that it would ease his discomfort at sitting shirtless on his boss's leather sofa. It burned his throat going down, and almost instantly a warm sensation washed over him.

"Scoot forward, Fox, and turn slightly. That's it," Patterson murmured, squirting some oil into his hands, he rubbed them together warming the oil, then started massaging Mulder's shoulders and back. He watched as Mulder took another sip of the drink. He worked his hands up and down Mulder's long back, and waited for the drink to have its affect.

Mulder couldn't believe how good Bill's hands felt. He leaned back into the older man's hands, purring contentedly he brought the glass back to his lips. He was surprised to find it empty.

"That's, my boy. You are starting to relax. Has anyone ever told you how beautiful you are, Fox?"

Mulder giggled, then put his hand over his mouth in shock. He had laughed, cried, cursed, shouted, but he had never giggled in his life. Oh, but he felt so good. "Phoebe told me once, but she would say anything to get what she wanted." Mulder gazed at the walls, they seemed to be swaying on their own, and the lamps had pretty colors flowing out of them. His mind was shouting at him that this wasn't right.

"You are, Fox, extremely beautiful and highly intelligent. A very valuable combination. I only own the finest. The scotch you just drank was thirty-year-old Glengoyne $260.00 dollars a bottle. Just like you, Fox, priceless. You are the best at what you do. No one in the FBI even comes close to your ability for profiling."

Mulder smiled, it felt good to be praised by someone older than himself. His father had never praised him. The other agents in the BSU resented him, only Bill showed him support and friendship. He became aware that he was getting an erection as those hands continued to sooth him.

"Does this feel good, Fox?" Patterson noticed the bulge in the young agent's pants. It was what he had been waiting for, and like a juicy apple, Fox was ripe and ready to be enjoyed.

"Yes, it feels so good, Bill," Mulder purred.

"It would feel even better if you were laying down. Then I could massage the rest of your body," Patterson said, licking his lips.

"Would you really do that for me?" Mulder asked, rubbing against the other man's body. He was so hot and wanted to get out of the rest of his clothes.

"Fox, you are my protégé. I would do anything to help you become an even better agent. Come on. Let's go into the bedroom." Patterson pulled Mulder to his feet. He had to support the young agent as he led him into the other room.

Mulder collapsed on the bed giggling and Patterson quickly removed the rest of his clothes. He stood drooling over the taut, lightly muscled body of his subordinate. Perfection. He should send the Mulders a thank you card for producing such an amazing young man. Patterson shrugged off his own clothing.

Mulder watched as Patterson removed his clothes, his mind couldn't quite grasp why Bill had to be naked in order to give him a massage. His eyes locked on the older man's fat cock, which stood straight out from his body. It wasn't very long but its girth was impressive.

"Roll over an your stomach, Fox. I'm going to make you feel really good." Patterson couldn't stand it any longer; he was going to come just by gazing at the younger man's body.

Mulder wanted to feel good; he wanted the pleasure that Bill's hands had provided earlier, so he rolled over on his stomach. He closed his eyes as he felt the mattress sink under Bill's weight and the larger man straddled his thighs. He moaned softly as the oil was squirted on his back and Bill's large hands started pleasuring him again. Mulder had started to drift off to sleep when he felt Bill's fingers kneading his buttocks then a fat finger pushed into his anus.

"No. Stop," Mulder slurred, his tongue felt thick in his mouth. He tried to push Patterson off his back, but he couldn't get his limbs to work.

"Fox, lay still and enjoy it. I promised that I'd get your mind off the case." He pushed another finger into that tight opening.

"Please, don't—" Mulder whimpered, his mind was clearing, but his body was too drugged to fight the man off. To make matters worse he penis was painfully erect and pushing into the mattress. He felt tears running down his cheeks at the feel of the wide cockhead against his anus, and the strong hands pulling his hips up, forcing him into a kneeling position. "Please, Bill, stop." His voice sounded weak even to his ears. He screamed when the cock entered him, the pain was so intense it felt like a hot poker being shoved up his ass.

"Oh God, Fox, your ass feels wonderful. You're so fucking tight," Patterson said, he leaned back and admired the sight of his cock spreading those beautiful ivory mounds apart and the taut anus so lovingly gripping his cock. "I can feel your pulse rate beating against my cock, Fox."

"Take it out! You're hurting me," Mulder gasped, weakly trying to pull away.

Patterson reached under and gripped Mulder's erection. "If I was, you wouldn't have an erection, Fox. Admit it. You're enjoying this almost as much as I am," the older man said, pulling out slowly then thrusting back inside. He stroked the agent's cock in time with his thrusts.

"You're perfect, Fox. Everything about you is a work of art."

Mulder was mortified as he started feeling pleasure as Bill found his prostate and started nudging it with each downward thrust. Patterson's words echoed in Mulder's ears and he found himself profiling the UNSUB while he was being mercilessly fucked by his superior.

"My lovely, perfect, Fox. Such beautiful eyes, like two golden gems," Bill prattled as he increased the length and force of his thrusts.

"Oh God. That's it! He's an artist! He's using the body parts in his artwork," Mulder moaned and came in long spurts, his anal muscle squeezed Patterson's cock and the older man came with a shout and collapsed on the young man's back.

After several minutes Patterson eased off Mulder's body, he held the edge of the condom as he pulled out. Knotting it, he tossed it in the trash. "See, I told you all you needed was a chance to clear your mind, Fox," Patterson said, pulling the young man's body into his arms.

"Get away from me. Dammit! You raped me!"

Patterson looked at him sternly. "Did I, Fox? I seem to recall you willingly laying across my bed naked."

"You know that's not why—" Mulder growled, frustrated.

"Fox, I only gave you what you needed to get over this mental block you had. It worked. If you hadn't found release in my arms, you'd still be clueless as to how to solve this case. You needed it. Think of the lives we just saved."

"Bastard," Mulder said weakly, realizing that part of what Patterson had said was true. He wouldn't have been able to make that leap on his own, and as his temper ebbed he had a hard time staying awake. The alcohol and whatever else had been in that drink was making him sleepy. "What now?" he asked, his eyes drifting closed.

"Sleep. We'll work on your profile in the morning."

***

Viva Tower
Skinner's apartment
November 26, 1999
1:00 a.m.

Skinner held Mulder as he cried. "Ssh, if Patterson were still alive I'd kill him myself."

"I had no one to turn to, Walter. Who would have believed me? It would have been my word against Patterson's."

"Mulder, you said you slept with him for over two years. How could you have allowed him to touch you again?" Skinner asked.

"I needed my job— I didn't want my father to think I was a quitter. Besides, it was Five months before the next time we had sex. Again it was on a rough case. Again it wasn't consensual. Bill used his position to bully me into it, and surprisingly in the middle of him fucking me I made the leap needed to solve the case. It wasn't until after the third time that I started using Bill almost as much as he used me."

Skinner frowned, it made him wonder what other blatant sexual harassment was currently going on inside the bureau. "C'mon, Mulder, let's get you to bed. In the morning I'll take you out to breakfast. We can do whatever you want the rest of Saturday. You can tell me what happened the next day with Patterson, if you're up to it," Skinner said.

"Walter?" Mulder said, stopping in the doorway of the guest bedroom.

"Yes, Mulder?"

"I want to find out who killed Bill. No one deserves to die that way," Mulder said softly.

"I'll talk with Section Chief Brooks on Monday, and have him assign you to the case. However, I want to be in on every detail of your investigation on a daily basis." Skinner looked deeply into Mulder's eyes. "Are you going to be okay?"

"Don't worry, Walter. I won't let my feelings get in the way of the case," Mulder said, entering the guestroom.

Skinner stood there for a moment, then reluctantly turned around and headed upstairs to his bedroom.

***

Nicole's turn!