Mid June 1996

Fox took off his suit jacket and tossed it, not caring where it landed. His tie was next and he dropped it as he unbuttoned the top buttons on his shirt. Walking into the kitchen, he paused as he saw a note on the dining room table.

Fox,

There are some casseroles in the fridge. Mrs. Puckett made you one of her famous apple pies and insisted I buy some vanilla ice cream when I brought it over, so there's some in the freezer. I hope your day wasn't too stressful, although I know it most likely was.

Love,

Dana

It was the love that kept him rooted to the spot, ignoring the growling of his stomach. He stared at the word and despite the horrible day he had, he could not help but smile.

Two weeks after Samantha had let her in, he had waited outside the shop until everyone left the knitting group. Knocking on the door, she had silently allowed him inside, her hand grazing his arm. As they drank their tea, he had pushed a key with a teal ribbon looped through it, across the table to her.

"What is this?" she had asked, staring at him.

"I… I know it's forward-"

"Incredibly so. Two months we've known each other. We're not… we don't…" She had shaken her head and he had sighed with a nod.

"I know. And I'm not asking anything from you. I just…" He had sighed again and ran a hand across his mouth. "I'm not usually a trusting person, but I trust you." He had stared at her, trying to tell her so much, but the words getting caught in his throat. "I can't explain it, but I trust you." She had stared at him and slowly nodded, her hand covering his and he had grasped her fingers like a lifeline.

So, for the past few months she had come into his apartment like a fairy ninja- small but mighty. She had left him encouraging notes, items she had knitted- her mind obviously needing to shut off for a while, and food. So much food, that sometimes he had to take it to his neighbors as he would never eat it all before it spoiled.

As the preparation for the trial began to consume him, she had become his saving grace, showing up when even he had not known he needed her.

Bringing over a movie, popcorn, and candy one night, they had sat silently in the dark, her hand in his, her thumb stroking in slow circles.

One afternoon, after a long night of insomnia, he had woken to find a small bouquet of daffodils in a vase on his dining room table.

To brighten even the darkest day, the accompanying note had said and he had smiled, his fingers tracing over her words.

One night he had gotten up, once more unable to sleep and intended to take a drive to help clear his head. When he opened the door however, he had found a brown paper bag. Inside there had been two boxes of tea and a black tea kettle in a box. One box of tea had been flavored and the other only chamomile.

To help you sleep, she had written on the box and he had shaken his head as he brought the items inside, wondering when she had been there and why she had not brought it inside.

He had unboxed and washed the tea kettle, filled it with water and took two bags of chamomile from the box. Pacing as he waited for the water to boil, he had thought about calling her, but decided to wait until morning.

He drank his tea slowly after it had cooled slightly. Taking out the needles and yarn, hoping the combination of the two would help, he had knitted a few rows before his eyes had begun to grow heavy. Drinking the last swallow of tea, he had set his knitting down and put the mug in the sink. He made his way to the bedroom and fell into bed with a sigh, finally able to sleep.

During all of the stress and worry, she had been there, helping to keep him sane.

Shaking his head as he set her note down, he walked into the kitchen to get a piece of the apple pie Mrs. Puckett had made. She was an amazing cook and when he had the time again, he wanted to ask her for some recipes.

Opening the fridge, it sat front and center, causing his mouth to water. Taking it out, he placed it on the counter and took out a knife, setting it on the counter to grab a plate, foregoing dinner for a slice of something sweet.

"Really? Without me?"

"Jesus Christ!" he yelled, not having heard the door opening.

"Sorry," Dana said with a smirk and he shook his head, his heart pounding.

"I didn't hear you come in. Maybe I should rethink that key I gave you." He narrowed his eyes at her and she hummed.

"I don't think you really mean that." She opened the freezer and took out the vanilla bean ice cream, placing it beside the pie. He smiled at her choice, as she always chose the most decadent of brands, insisting that ice cream was not the place where one should save money.

"I don't mean it. You've got me there." She hummed again as she took out the silverware and ice cream scooper.

"Come on, I've been waiting for you to come home so I could have some of this pie."

"Oh… you've been waiting for me?" She stared at him and he knew she had, knowing what today had been. "Right."

He nodded and lightly rubbed her back before he took down two bowls and cut the pie. She added two scoops of ice cream for each of them, placed spoons inside the bowls, and took them to the table. He poured them each a glass of milk, put the ice cream back in the freezer, and joined her.

They ate and drank in silence, aside from their occasional hums of pleasure. When it was down to the last bit of ice cream, she looked at him and he sighed. Setting his spoon down, he nodded.

"It was hard," he said quietly. "Hearing my partner talk about that day, hearing her version of events… Even though we were both there, what we saw and experienced was similar, but also different. Our stories line up, but what I remember is slightly altered from hers."

"What did she say? You can talk about it now as she's already had her time in the stand?"

"Yeah. I'm up tomorrow. So…"

"I understand."

"She told them that that day we had been called out, following a lead on a case. We didn't know there was anyone in the empty building, weren't sure anyway." He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "We had our weapons out, just in case, sweeping the rooms as we cleared them. I didn't see him. Didn't…"

And then suddenly he was back there, in that room, hearing the sound of footsteps as everything seemed to slow down. The kid walked in front of him and stopped, a gun in his hand.

Yelling for him to drop it, his partner Eve Lansing, appeared beside him. They both yelled for him to put the gun down but he did not, holding it on them, his eyes scared. His arm swung towards Eve and Fox saw his finger squeezing the trigger.

He stepped in front of her, shielding her and aiming his weapon at the kid. They shot at the same time, the kid's shot hitting his shoulder and his own hitting the kid's chest, dropping him to the ground.

"After that moment… it's a bit hazy. I remember hearing Eve screaming my name, heard her calling in our location, and then the pressure of her hands on me. I don't remember anything after that until I woke up the next day." He opened his eyes and looked at her.

Tears were running down her cheeks and her hands were covering her mouth. His leg began to bounce nervously, not knowing what to say. She wiped her eyes and reached for his hand. He grasped it and she shook her head.

"I had no idea," she whispered. "Why… why did you step in front of her? You… you nearly died."

"Eve has a husband and a little girl, not even two years old. I couldn't… she couldn't grow up without her mom."

"Oh, Fox." She reached forward and wrapped her arms around his neck and he held her, closing his eyes once again. "I'm so sorry that happened. So sorry."

"I didn't mean to kill him. I would never want that." He shook his head, tears pricking at his eyes. "But I had to protect her and her family."

He felt her nod and he held her tighter as they sat in silence, finding comfort in being held.

He stood on the large porch of his family's lake house, the September air warm, and took a deep breath as he looked out at the water.

"So... how long are you planning on staying out here?" Samantha asked, setting down a bag of groceries. He turned around and smiled at her.

"I don't know. Maybe a month?"

"Or as long as you can stand being away from Dana," she teased and he shrugged, knowing she was right.

"The trial is over and even though it went as I had thought it would, I quit my job. I just couldn't go back there. These past few months have been hard, despite the positive aspects of it-"

"Like Dana?" She grinned and he nodded with a smile.

"Especially Dana."

"Ooooo, Fox and Dana sitting in a tree," she sang and he tried to grab her. She escaped his grasp, laughing as she did.

"How old are you?" he asked and she stuck her tongue out at him and he laughed.

"So when is she coming up?" She started to empty the bags of groceries and he joined her.

"What makes you think she is?" She gave him a look and he laughed.

"Wine, chocolates, these cookies which I know Dana likes… yeah you're not the only detective. Oh... you know what I mean." She shook her head and he nodded, taking the cookies from her.

"Friday after work and she's staying for the weekend."

"Reeeeeeally?" she drawled with a grin and he shook his head.

"Nothing like that. Stop."

"What? Really?"

"We're taking things slow. It's what I need right now. I don't want to mess this up. She means a lot to me."

"I know she does. I can see it." She smiled and patted his face. "You deserve a woman like her." He smiled and they continued putting away the groceries.

"I can't believe you made this yourself. It's so good," Dana said, dipping her bread in the remaining tomato sauce on her plate and putting it in her mouth.

"Are you suggesting I can't make a meal?" he teased and she smiled.

"I wasn't directly, but…" He laughed and picked up their plates, taking them to the kitchen. She followed with the other dishes and they quickly cleaned the kitchen.

"How about a glass of wine on the porch?" he asked and she smiled.

"That sounds great. I'm just gonna use the bathroom real quick."

Pouring them each another glass of wine, he brought them onto the porch and went back inside for a couple of blankets. It was warm during the day, but the nights were sometimes chilly.

When she came out, she was wearing the gray cardigan he knew she loved. The pockets were deep and she had often expressed how all clothes should have similar pockets.

He handed her her glass and a blanket as they sat in the porch chairs. They were quiet as they listened to the water lapping against the dock and the crickets singing around them.

"Dana?"

"Hmm?"

"I wanted to thank you for these past few months."

"Fox-"

"No. Please let me say this," he said, setting his glass down and turning towards her. "I didn't… I knew I was angry and I knew I was taking it out on people who didn't deserve it, but it's as if I didn't know how much until we spoke. Until you shared your story and it seemed okay that I was feeling the way I had been. My therapist told me, but…" He smiled at her and she reached out her hand to him. He took it and stared at her fingers as he ran his thumb over them.

"You saved me, as corny as you may think that sounds, you did. Your kindness and acceptance when others had judged me for what happened, it meant everything to me. You didn't have to do that, you could have asked me to leave and I would have understood." He shook his head as he raised her hand to his lips, kissing her knuckles as he stared at her. "Thank you, Dana. For seeing me. For saving me."

"Fox…" She pushed up from the chair and sat on his knee, her arms around his neck. He held her, his heart beginning to repair as she whispered his name, her fingers rubbing his neck.

The first time he kissed her, a bullfrog croaked very close and extremely loud, causing him to jump, and she laughed against his lips.

"So you think I can do this?" he asked Mrs. Scully quietly as they stood at the food table decorated with witches and ghosts. They were taking a break from the usual knitting and he was adding his latest baking endeavor- peanut butter and marshmallow squares.

"Yum!" Emilia said, grabbing one and running away. He laughed and looked at Mrs. Scully.

"Seriously? You think I can."

"I do. And I'll help with anything you need."

"Thank you."

And so a secret project began, one that was incredibly difficult to hide from Dana as she was always with him, but he would not have it any other way.

He took two weeks away from her, telling her he had a vacation planned with his mom and sister. But, there was no vacation planned and instead he went to Mrs. Scully's home and she showed him how to knit and purl, use different needles, and knit in the round. He was overwhelmed at first, but as he became more sure of himself, he found he could do it.

He knitted until late in the night, finally finding his insomnia good for something. It was not a perfect job, but for his first attempt, he was quite proud of how well he did. Mrs. Scully did have to step in sometimes when he simply could not figure it out. The needles fairly flew, as though enchanted, when they were held in her capable fingers.

He smiled as he watched it taking shape, excited for the moment when he would be able to show Dana what he had accomplished.

He had asked what her favorite color was, which yarn she would pick if she were to give a gift to someone she really cared about. She had smiled and walked to the wall of yarn, taking down the periwinkle.

"This one. I always think I'd like to make something for myself in this color, but…"

"Why haven't you?"

"I don't know. It seems too… nice to use on me. Like it should be a special occasion or I don't know. But I would definitely make someone else a gift with it." She had smiled and he nodded, touching the soft yarn.

Someone had called to her and when Mrs. Scully had walked by, he asked her to get as many as he would need to make Dana a sweater, because she deserved to have something made for her with that yarn.

It was finished just before Christmas and he was nervous with excitement on Christmas Eve when she came over to spend the evening with him.

Snow covered her gray knitted cap and her coat when he opened the door, surprised she had not let herself in.

"I couldn't get to my keys," she laughed, her hands full of bags of gifts. He took them from her, but still she stood in the doorway.

"Have you become a vampire? Do I need to invite you in?" he teased and she laughed, shaking her head. "Then what…" She pulled something from her pocket and he laughed when she handed it to him.

"No bullfrogs tonight," he whispered as he held the mistletoe over her head and leaned in to kiss her. She laughed, grabbing handfuls of his shirt, and kissed him back.

Lifting her slightly, he brought her inside, spinning her around and setting her back down. She giggled as she took off her hat and unbuttoned her coat.

"God, it smells good in here," she said as she took off her coat and he smiled at her dark green sensible sweater.

"I'm glad you think so, I've made everything from scratch."

"Have you really? You're becoming quite the chef." He smiled and she kissed him again before walking into the kitchen and sniffing loudly.

They had a delicious meal of ham, mashed potatoes, green beans, and rolls he had made that were nearly lighter than air. She ate three of them and had two helpings of ham before she groaned and leaned back, rubbing at her stomach.

"Seriously, that was delicious."

"Thank you." He smiled and she grinned. "Should we open gifts?"

"Yes!" She jumped up and he laughed, watching her take out the gifts from her bags.

Soon there was a little pile before him where he sat cross legged on the floor. A stocking was laid on top and his eyes widened.

"I uh… I wasn't expecting this."

"You're dealing with the Scully women now. You're lucky I didn't show up with a tree and decorations. Next year that might be different, so be prepared."

"Next year?" he asked hopefully and she stared at him.

"I hope so," she whispered and he nodded happily. "Okay! Stocking first!"

"Then you should get yours too," he said, nodding to the green stocking hanging from the fireplace. She jumped up excitedly and he laughed. Coming back to join him, they sat staring at each other as they held their stockings.

"Same time?"

"Okay!" She smiled and they dumped out their stockings.

He laughed at the things she had placed inside. A little magnet shaped like a ball of yarn, chocolate kisses, a Rubik's cube, and two spatulas. She laughed at hers: a bullfrog figurine at full croak, dark chocolate bars, a pack of sticky notes for all the notes she liked to leave, and a lapel pin that said You keep me in stitches with a ball of yarn in the background.

"Thank you," she said, putting on her pin with a smile.

"And thank you!" He pretended to mix stuff with the spatulas and she laughed.

The other gifts were from her and her mother. Mrs. Scully gave him a cookbook and new plastic mixing bowls. Dana had made him a dark gray scarf and a cap to match. He put them on right away, pulling her close for a kiss when she adjusted the scarf.

"Thank you," he whispered, kissing her again. She hummed and kissed him before pulling back.

Standing up, he left the room to get her gift, his heart racing. Sitting down in front of her, he handed her the square package wrapped in snowman paper and tied with a green ribbon.

She smiled as she untied the ribbon and slid it off the package. Ripping the paper, he let out a breath, swallowing hard. She lifted the lid and set it down beside her. Peeling back the red tissue paper, she gasped, her eyes lifting to his.

"What? Oh, Fox." She took the sweater out of the box, shaking her head as she looked at it. "You made this?"

"I did." He swallowed again and she looked at him with tears in her eyes.

"It's beautiful."

"It's not exactly perfect."

"It is."

"You haven't even seen it all." He laughed and she shook her head.

"You made it. And it has pockets. I love it." She stood up and he did too, watching her taking off her sweater, and putting the new one on over her camisole. "You're sneaky, asking me which yarn I would use for someone else and getting it for me."

"Hmm," he hummed, looking at the way it fit her perfectly. "Turn around, let me see." She did and when she turned back around, her hands were in the pockets and she smiled happily.

"This is so beautiful. I can't believe you did this."

"Your mom helped."

"Sneaky, the both of you." She smiled and took her hands from her pockets and placed them on his face. "I love it. I… I love you." He grinned and wrapped his arms around her waist.

"God, Dana. I love you too. So much."

2010

"Hey! What did I tell you about using the wooden spoons?"

"To use the scorched ones."

"Right! Let's switch!"

"Dad! Where's the chocolate sauce?"

"Top shelf, love! The stepstool is in the pantry if you need it."

"I can reach it, I'm tall enough!"

"Daddy!"

"My love!"

"Whose idea was it to have this many children?" Fox laughed as he turned to look at his wife and she shook her head with a smile.

"I believe it was you, my dear," he said, pulling her close and kissing her as their oldest daughter made a disgusted sound.

"I don't remember the last one being part of the deal," she teased quietly and he remembered how the last one had come to be.

"Blame the bottles of wine and the fact that your mother volunteered to give us a weekend away." He grinned and she smiled, tracing a heart with her finger, right over the one tattooed on his chest.

"You wear your heart on your sleeve," Dana had said to him the night after he had asked her to marry him, her fingers tracing the scar from the bullet wound that had led them to one another. "Or outside your chest. I love that about you so much."

The next day, they had gone to a tattoo shop at her insistence, and he had a heart tattooed over his old scar, asking for it to be teal, like the walls in the yarn shop.

"The color of happiness," he had said and she had smiled as she watched the teal heart cover the puckered skin.

Every one of their children had asked why he had a blue heart instead of a red one, their small fingers tracing it as they were held in his arms.

"Blue doesn't always mean sadness, my loves, sometimes blue can be the happiest color in the world."

"Like Mommy's part of the shop?" they had asked and he had nodded with a smile.

The little shop had grown over the years as they bought the building next door and turned it into a cafe. The name had changed as well, and was now known as Knit Knacks and Snacks. People came in to eat and then join in on a knitting lesson, taught by Dana's mother, Dana, or their oldest daughter.

And every night, when the shops were closed, the little family would turn on music and get the Knacks side of the shops ready for the next day. The Snacks side… Well, many new recipes were created after hours with many willing tasters ready to try anything with chocolate.

"Dad! The biscuits!"

"Oof!" He stepped away from Dana and ran to the oven, opening it to find they were the perfect color. "Crisis averted!"

"Hooray!"

He took the biscuits out and everyone came together to the counter. Six plates were laid down, a biscuit placed on each one and cut in half. Cut strawberries in a sugary liquid were scooped onto the biscuits, soaking it in deliciousness. Freshly made whipped cream was placed on top and the plates were distributed.

They all sat down and ate their special Friday night treat, the youngest getting it all over his shirt, his grin red and happy.

Fox looked at all of them, this family of his and he shook his head. Dana took a tissue from the pocket of her periwinkle sweater and wiped their son's face, with a shake of her head.

"See how handy these pockets have been?" she asked with a smile and he laughed.

His heart was full and he felt happier than he ever imagined was possible.

"I love you, Mulder clan."

"Wuv you too, Bab." Came their responses, all of their mouths full of strawberry shortcake, and he laughed once more.