I don't own TXF.

A/N: I realized that there are spoilers for both Three of a Kind and now Dreamland I & II. I forgot to mention the second one. I apologize for not updating much on my other fics. I really want to get Finding William finished, but I'm stuck right now. I've written probably three more chapters for Bedtime Stories, but I'm not really feeling them at all so they may get scrapped and re-written. I'm trying to consume my time with writing since I'm trying to figure out how to obtain/pursue a second major in Biology, as well as gain a 3-month internship and finish my primary degree as well as two minors (I'm crazy apparently...) in the next two years because I'm already graduating a year late, but go figure I have writer's block at a time when I need an outlet for stress. College is so wonderful, yet sucks major ass all at once. Anyway...I'm hoping that I'm providing the humor I find in this piece. Review please! Thanks to everyone who has reviewed so far!

Mulder stood up and was instantly inches away from Morris with his finger in his chest. “You, you, you…” Mulder pursed his lips and growled impatiently at a loss for words. While he had appreciated the bedroom make over in his apartment, the bed had leaked and most of the floor accessories had to be replaced. Mulder had trashed everything and started over. The dollar signs from that project were the only thing he could think of, but he knew he wanted to be angry with Morris for so many other things, they were just escaping him.

Morris laughed. “Me? What did I do? Hey, how’s your voluptuous Agent Scully getting along?” Morris leaned forward and quirked an eyebrow at Mulder suggestively. “Have you entertained the idea yet?”

Mulder leaned back from Morris and scoffed. The other man’s wicked smiled irked him. “Don’t talk about Scully.”

Morris leaned back, seemingly pleased with himself for getting under Mulder’s skin and making it crawl. “Well, I’m surprised, Mulder. I never thought you would have had the balls.”

Mulder jabbed his finger into Morris’s chest. “I got the balls, you fat jerk.”

Morris’s face was disgusted as he pushed Mulder’s accusing finger away from his chest. He brushed the spot on his chest off. Mulder’s fists were balled into tight fists and he was nearly shaking with anger. He wished he could remember why this man made him so angry. He was so frustrating and crude, but that wasn’t what set Mulder off. He desperately raked through his brain to find the answer. Shaking his head, he turned on his heels and headed for his room, but stopped at Morris’s next question.

“Get any more calls from your Area 51 informant?” Morris asked, stuffing his hand in his pocket, the other resting on the extended handle on the rolling suitcase. He rocked back on his heels casually, smiling like the Cheshire cat.

Mulder turned around slowly. Leave it alone, Mulder… His conscience had turned into the reasoning voice of Scully, but without her hand grabbing his elbow and tugging him in the opposite direction, he had no control. Mulder cocked his head curiously and narrowed his eyes. “My informant?”

Morris examined his fingernails. “Yeah, Wegman,” he said casually and looked up. “You remember the general. Lucky for him, I forgot that we had our little incident a few months ago or else I would have him indicted with federal charges. Then again, to the General and all the people around us that event never happened, did it? So, the General could still be calling your house and requesting to meet.”

Mulder started to remember that it was the white-haired Air Force general who had put his career on the line to allow him a glimpse of a real UFO. He had tried to dismantle the cloaking systems, but managed to crash the UFO in the desert and turn the world upside down. Two objects occupied the same space in one instance, seemingly fused together. If Mulder remembered correctly, he and Morris weren’t the only ones to switch bodies. A UFO pilot and an old Indian woman swapped as well. Mulder narrowed his eyes and pursed his lips, jerking his thumb over his shoulder. He still couldn’t remember what it was about this man that made him so angry. “I’m here on a genuine case, Fletcher. Don’t waste my time anymore.” He spun on his heels and resumed his quick pace to his room.

He shut the door behind him quickly, locking the deadbolt and flipping the bar around to catch the hook. Scully’s voice spoke in his head, congratulating him on having the strength to just walk away. His brows furrowed in curiosity and he stood with his back against the door for several long seconds. A green flashing caught his eye and he made his way to the nightstand and picked up his phone, noting the missed call from Scully’s number. He toyed with the idea of calling her back and looked at the clock. The clock told him the time was nearing seven, forcing him to notice the quickly fading sunlight filtering through the windows. He dialed his voicemail and listened to the message.

“Mulder, it’s me,” her voice was almost annoyed. “I just left Skinner’s office. He wants you to see him as soon as you get back, no surprise there. But the curiosity lies in his reaction to your disappearance, Mulder. He found it entertaining.” Her voice broke off and came back as a whisper. She must have been passing someone in the hallway. No reason to set fire to more office gossip. “Mulder, where are you? Call me when you get this.” He tossed his phone down on the bed and shrugged. Scully was probably getting ready to go to sleep and he didn’t want to bother her.

Picking up the small pad of paper and pen from the nightstand, each bearing the logo from the hotel, he sat down at the desk. There were few times that his photographic memory failed him, most of the time it had something to do with a case in the X files. If he couldn’t remember, someone probably didn’t want him remembering. He stared at the door across the room, frowning curiously, and jutted his out, biting the side of his lip. The ball-point tapped lightly on the note pad for a few seconds before he scribbled down “Morris Fletcher” on the paper. He sat back and stared at the name, pensively stroking his fingers along the stubble on his jaw line. “Morris Fletcher,” he whispered, still frowning. “Morris Fletcher, Morris Fletcher…”

He remembered driving north on Nevada State Route 375 through Rachel, dually dubbed Extraterrestrial Highway because of its proximity to Area 51 on the outskirts of the Groom Lake facilities. Mulder had dragged Scully along to meet his clandestine contact, who claimed to have “encyclopedic knowledge” of aliens and their craft. It was the complete accumulation of six years of partnership, searching for any physical clarification that their journey held any ground. He closed his eyes remembering the details leading up to military vehicles swarming them from all sides just past Outpost 134…

I'm working on the next part right now. I promise. I'm literally trying everything to distract myself from thinking about this Biology major I have to obtain magically. So I may take a drive somewhere, but the next part will be up later tonight more than likely.