A/N: Sorry it took me soooo long to update. I forgot about this story, ran out of steam, hated this story, blah blah blah. Then I reread the reviews and felt guilty... so I had to update.

I woke up just after 7 to an eerily quiet house. Normally my house is quiet, but with my whole family there, I expected it to be at least slightly noisy. I stood from the bed and found my grandchildren and their mothers outside in the backyard. That explained the quiet, but I was still curious as to why my rowdy children weren't already wreaking havoc on my house. I love having the three of them together, but sometimes the teasing and childish antics get out of hand.

I showered and dressed quickly and headed down the stairs to make breakfast. What I found was my daughter and her partner already in the kitchen. They were still in their pajamas, and Dana had flour on the end of her nose. She was half giggling, half glaring at Fox, who looked for all the world like he got caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

"Mulder, I swear. Your maturity level drops more and more every day."

"And your tolerance for it increases exponentially. I thank you for that."

"You'll send me to an early grave."

"As long as I can go with you."

"You can't. Death is going to be my only escape."

"Don't joke."

"Sorry. Will you get the sugar off the top shelf?"

He obliged and I leaned against the doorframe, making sure I was just out of sight. I rarely get a chance to watch them interact like this, and I had been curious.

"You know you should ask Santa for an extra two inches or something for Christmas."

"And you should ask him for a cup."

It shouldn't have surprised me that my daughter would say something like that, but it really did. I have never known Dana to be less than reserved around people who aren't family. I suppose Fox is closer to her than anyone now though.

"Here's your sugar, sugar."

She rolled her eyes and he chuckled.

"What else do you need me to do? I can make bacon or something."

"I guess, but don't burn it. You know how I hate burnt bacon."

"The fake gagging was a dead giveaway."

"Well, sometimes you're slow. I just had to check."

He chuckled and reached for the old radio I keep on the top of the fridge. He turned it up, and Marvin Gaye and Tammy Terrell began to sing. If my kids knew that I knew the artist and title of this song they would probably fall over. They were so young when it came out, but they just can't believe that their own mom ever listened to music.

Fox took Dana's hand and spun her around the room and she giggled.

"Mulder," she said, rolling her eyes.

I will never understand why they call each other by their last names, even after all these years. At least Fox calls her by her first name when they're with the family.

"Come on, live a little!"

She shook her head and he spun her out again and they stumbled into the counter.

"Ouch. Mulder!"

"You stepped on my foot."

"You were the one who wanted to dance before I've had a cup of coffee."

He just shrugged and moved back to the stove while she sighed.

"Mulder..."

"What?"

"I don't know."

He laughed and pulled her into a hug. I have never seen her smile the way she was smiling as he tucked her under his chin. She was truly happy. Blissfully, joyfully happy. There is nothing a mother wants more than to see each of her children like this. I would be grateful forever to Fox Mulder for putting that happiness in my daughter's heart.

My husband and I had been married for 34 years when he died, and we never had a bond like Dana has with Fox. Having children and living together had given us one kind of bond, but whatever Fox and Dana have is foreign to me. They function as one unit, effortlessly. I fluctuate between being jealous and admiring it, but this morning I was simply enjoying observation.

I had always worried about Dana when she was growing up. She never seemed to make close friends, and when she did, it ended with her being hurt. I was afraid that she would never find a companion, that one person to rely on, to share things with, to love. Dana would be fine on her own, but no matter how independent someone is, they still need that one person.

As I watched him wipe the flour from the end of her nose and kiss her forehead, I knew. Dana had found that one person, and she would be okay.