Fox Mulder sat cross-legged on the hard floor of the screened-in back porch, staring intently out into the night. A storm had moved in hours before, bringing with it a thick fog and a strong wind, both of which danced around the tree tops making them sway in time and cast out shadows which could play mind games on any observer. Three times he thought he'd seen something moving among the trees, but he'd dismissed it each time, telling himself that it was a rabbit, or a shadow, or even his imagination. Subconciously he promised himself that if he saw it again, he would take a blunt object, and investigate. But he tried to push it from his mind.

Turning his attention away from the storm, he glanced down at Scully, who had fallen asleep with her head in his lap. His legs had been asleep for a long time, and he groaned quietly, trying to adjust himself without waking her up. She'd come out onto the porch, looking quite stressed. Roman, their eighteen-month-old daughter, had been sick for a week. She'd had a high fever which came and went, an upset stomach which prevented her from eating almost anything without getting sick, and a horrible cough. As if getting her to eat and stop crying didn't take enough work, she also refused to fall asleep in her crib. And most nights she woke up screaming until someone picked her up, and lay her in between them in bed. Finally, Dana had gotten her to sleep, and managed to keep from waking her while placing her in the crib. IT had taken three consecutive readings of "Green Eggs and Ham" and two chapters from "A Little Princess", but it had worked. That was two hours before. It was a new record.

Mulder stretched his arms out, and sighed. He was feeling fidgety. Instead of popping his knuckles as he'd originally planned, he decided to play with the plain silver band on his right ring finger, twisting it around as fast as he could until it burned. Looking up and out the screen once more, he noticed a small shadow. One that seemed to mold into the big willow at the base of the trees. He leaned forward, and blinked several times, trying to determine where the shadow was coming from. He couldn't. Reluctantly, he lay one hand on Scully's shoulder, and brushed a lock of hair from her face with the other, before shaking her gently. She grunted, but didn't move. He tried again, harder this time, and she jumped awake, sitting up like a bolt oflightning. "Sorry," he said, stretching out his legs, "but I can't feel my legs anymore." "Oh! You could've woke me up sooner," she said, patting her hair down.

Mulder groaned, forcing his knees to bend, and standing up. He held out a hand for her and pulled her to her feet. "It's okay," he said, "I thought as long as Roman was finally sleeping, you should too"
He tried to be casual, glancing past her into the trees.
Scully stretched her legs, before taking a few steps closer to him and wrapping her arms around him, laying her head against his chest. "Ooh," he chirped, holding her close against him. Ignoring the thunder which managed to rattle the walls around them, he took her right hand into his, and kissed her knuckles, fingering the identical silver band which she wore on her ring finger.

The rings had been his idea. Just a few months before she became pregnant with Roman, he'd purchased the rings in town and presented them to her before bed, explaining that he wanted them to be connected without being like every other couple on earth. The silver was simply to oppose the traditional gold bands, and they wore them on their right hand to be contrary. But the meaning was the same. Mulder had always thought that marriage might not be enough, that it leads one to stay with another simply because they're bound together legally. And while he knew that was not the case with the two of them, he wanted them to always remember that they were together because they loved each other, and because they needed each other.

Scully smiled up at him, and lay her hand on his shoulder at the base of his neck. "Roman hasn't made any sound at all?" she asked. He shook his head. "Not a peep since you put her down." She sighed. "Thank God. I'm telling you, I'm beginning to think that you have some strange insomnia gene and now you've cursed her for life. If it hadn't been for that cough syrup I don't think she could've stopped coughing long enough to fall asleep, bless her heart. And her fever's been over one hundred all day. By the way, tomorrow night, you're on story duty. I think she likes the way you read it which is good because "
Though she was still talking, her voice faded from his mind as he looked past her, through the screen, and into the woods. He was certain, that time, he'd seen someone walk past. He held a finger to her lips, to silence her.
"What is it?" She asked, but he shook his head. "Shh", he insisted, quietly.

He stepped slowly to the door which led off the porch into the yard, picking up a base ball bat, which he'd conveniently lefy by the door days before. Scully stepped behind him, curiousity covering her features. "What?" As he inched the screen door open, he glanced back at her. "There's someone out in the trees." he said simply, and stepped out into the rain.

Propping the bat up on his shoulder, he trotted as quietly as possible to the edge of the trees, glancing back to make sure Scully hadn't followed. There was a large oak tree which was just big enough for him to hide behind, and ducking behind it, he adjusted the bat so that he could strike at a second's notice. Taking a deep breath, he jumped around to the back of the tree, raised the bat over his head to strike, and stopped. He stared down in confusion at a small boy, curled up in a fetal position at the base of the tree.