I guess the first time I posted this I really confused everyone about Mulder's age, so, perfectionist that I am (although it isn't always obvious :-), I'm posting this revised version. This story stands by itself -- that is, you don't have to be familiar with any opera or any of my other work to read it. It's sort of a Mulder-Scully romance, but not really; it's more of a bonding story, I guess. No need for non-relationshippers to panic. Also, there are no spoilers. Please send comments to AM79898@ltu.edu Disclaimer: The characters of Dana Scully, Melissa Scully, and Fox Mulder do not belong to me. They belong to Chris Carter and Ten Thirteen Productions. This story itself does belong to me, so it is Copyright (C) 1996 by Ann-Marie MacFarlane. All rights reserved. It's very short. Here it is: =========================== Pre-existing Connection by Ann-Marie MacFarlane July 12, 1979 shopping mall, Bethesda, MD 4:25 PM Melissa and her younger sister giggled happily as they walked through the shopping mall. They had spent almost a whole day there, after Dana had begged her mother to let her tag along with her seventeen-year old sister who had a driver's license. Her mother had finally agreed but told them both to stay together at all times. Dana had been thrilled, but, now, after five hours of looking at clothes and make-up, she was starting to get a little tired. Her feet ached and she just wanted to sit down for five minutes. She had never really been one to complain, but she had to ask her sister, "Melissa, how much longer were you planning on us being here?" "I know; I'm getting tired too. I just want to look in here for some books on philosophy and then we can go, okay?" she said in her usual cheerful yet mysterious tone of voice. Dana thought tiredly. She knew what her sister was talking about. More mystical nonsense. She didn't understand how her sister would want to retaliate against her parents' somewhat hard-to-grasp, albeit structured, religion of Catholicism by swimming in the even murkier waters of secularized spiritualism. Dana followed her sister into the bookstore and watched her go over to the "religion/mythology" shelves. She let out a bit of an exasperated sigh, then looked around the bookstore for the literature section, particularly the Shakespeare shelf. Although she was only fifteen, she already had a substantial understanding of Shakespeare. She had studied _Hamlet_ and _Macbeth_ in high school and loved both plays. Every chance she could get, she liked to just open a Shakespeare play to any page and read a passage at random. Right now, she walked past a couple shelves in the store and finally saw the "literature" sign and an arrow pointing to the right. When she found the shelf, however, she noticed a young man, probably about 27, she estimated, although she was never very good at estimating other people's ages. The dark- haired man was standing there reading a paperback copy of _Hamlet_, looking like he had tears in his eyes. There was something about his face or his posture that made her sympathize with him and want to ask if he was alright. Of course, she could not do that. The young man looked up from his book to see if he was expected to get out of the way. Dana blushed uncontrollably and turned around to look at the opposite shelf. She picked up a book of Keats' poetry and opened it, trying to look occupied. Fox continued to look at the girl who now had her back to him. He looked at her waist-length fiery red hair and the ivory white skin of her hands. He estimated her to be eighteen, about one year younger than himself. He watched her put the Keats book back and heard her sigh slightly. The girl walked closer to him, looking at the shelf he was leaning on. "Excuse me," the girl whispered shyly. Fox backed away and nearly stumbled back into the shelf behind him. The redhead smiled very slightly, looking at the shelf in front of her and not at him. She looked nothing like his sister, except that her hair was about the same length. Fox continued to study her over the book in his hands. He had never seen a woman so beautiful, either in America or England. He noticed her height for the first time and thought with discomfort that she might have been younger than he thought. he thought, Also, there was such an air of maturity about her. She was probably a focused university student majoring in literature, he speculated. He noticed her pick up a copy of _Macbeth_. She looked at him when she had the feeling he was watching her. He smiled, and she reutrned the smile, but still barely met his eyes. This was getting too difficult. Fox really wanted to talk to this woman who shared an interest in Shakespeare. He finally pulled himself together when he saw her intently reading _Macbeth_. "Have you read it before?" he asked. Dana felt mildly shocked that he was talking to her, but knew she had to reply in order to be polite. "What? _Macbeth_? Yeah, I read it last year," she replied and tried to put her eyes back on the page she had been reading. She could not. Once she had made eye contact with him, she couldn't look away. "What do you think of it?" Fox asked. "I like it, but I like _Hamlet_ better," she said. "Oh... why?" he asked after considering her answer for a moment. She thought for a minute. Fox thought to himself. Dana replied: "I don't like this idea that anyone can commit a crime if they're in a certain situation. _Macbeth_ seems to say that everyone is good and evil at the same time, but Hamlet is more concerned with doing the right thing," she said, proudly putting her morals on display. The young man thought for a moment. As Dana watched him, her estimation of his age started to go down a bit. She noticed how young and healthy his face looked, realizing that his eyes and the pain they held were probably responsible for adding years to his appearance. Fox spoke again. "I like that. I never thought about it that way," he said. Dana was finally able to pry her eyes off of his and looked back at the book she was holding, thinking the conversation was over. "Listen," Fox said nervously, "Would you be interested in talking some more about this, maybe over coffee or something?" Dana's mind almost went blank because of the shock. She thought her face must have turned beet-red. This was the first time a guy had asked her out, and he was probably more than five years older than her. Besides, she didn't drink coffee. There was only one response she could give him, even though she knew it would probably cause him a great deal of embarrassment and discomfort. "I'm fifteen," she told him, looking directly into his eyes, almost right through them. She put her book neatly back on the shelf and walked away calmly, not looking at him again. She reached the exit of the store and found that Melissa was paying for a book at the counter. Melissa then walked over to her in time to hear her say, "Come on, Missy, let's go." Melissa was worried about her for a minute because of the expression on her face. However, Dana was able to compose herself and Melissa said nothing more about it. August 2, 1996 Dana Scully's apartment, Annapolis, MD. 6:11 PM Mulder sat next to Scully on her couch. It was a Friday night and they were looking through Scully's old photo albums while waiting for the pizza to arrive, both of them exhausted and relieved that the week was finally over. Scully was telling him some story about Melissa and how it related to the picture in the album when Mulder turned the page. There was a picture of a girl, probably in her late teens, with very long fiery hair, ivory-white skin, and a look of intense intelligence in her blue eyes. Mulder's thoughts raced as he stared at the photograph. He was transported back to the summer of 1979, when he had come back from Oxford for the summer to visit his aunt in Maryland. He wasn't quite sure why the picture reminded him of that, and he tried desperately to see the connection. "Mulder, what is it? Are you alright?" she asked with concern. She was very worried that some photograph or her story had reminded him of his sister. "Yeah, I was just... thinking." She shifted her body slightly and looked at his face. "What are you thinking about?" she asked and lightly touched the back of her fingers to his cheek. "This was you?" he asked and pointed to the picture in the album. "Yes. Doesn't it look like me?" she replied. Suddenly it became very clear to him. Scully's insistence on the clear-cut nature of good and evil. Her logical, black and white view of life. Her skeptical nature that always made him look at things differently, constantly making him say, "I never thought of it that way." She was just like that girl he had met in the bookstore, who had shocked him so much when she told him her age. "You were about fifteen here?" he guessed. "Yeah." "Scully, have you ever read _Macbeth_?" "Yes," she replied. She had no idea what he was getting at or why he had changed the subject. "Don't you think it tries to say that every good person is capable of murder if they were in a certain situation?" Scully thought of something. She remembered being in a bookstore when she was fifteen and telling an older guy exactly the same thing. She remembered the overwhelming feeling she had to ask him if he was alright. She remembered his tortured hazel eyes and tousled brown hair. "Oh my God," she said quietly and looked into Mulder's eyes, which still had the same pained tinge in them. "That was you," Mulder whispered back to her. They looked at each other for a long moment, recalling the feelings they had in the bookstore so many years ago. Scully remembered that he had asked her out for coffee, and she remembered how wonderful and regretful she had felt for weeks after. Finally, Mulder broke the silence. "You were always beautiful," he whispered. Scully looked away and blushed like a fifteen-year-old girl. Mulder smiled. "Maybe we could go get some coffee sometime," he said. "But Mulder," she said, looking into his eyes, almost through his eyes just as she had done so many years ago. Only this time, she was smiling. "I'm only 32." ======================================= (The End.) Could you people please respond and tell me that you read this?! My e-mail address, in case you have forgotten, is still AM79898@ltu.edu Ann-Marie *************** Remember, you're unique..... just like everybody else. -anonymous internet person ***************