Title: Paths Not Taken Author: Erin Branscome E-mail: Pbrans@aol.com

Rating: PG13 Category: A, MSR, Case File Spoilers: Clyde Buckman's Final Repose, Millennium Summery: During a frustrating case that meets a tragic end, Scully accepts the offer of a strange being and finds out what life would be like if she never was assigned to work with Agent Mulder.

Archive: Unless you are planning on putting it in the "How not to write a fan fic" section, sure! Just drop me a note telling me where. (It'll earn you a visit to your site.) Feedback: Please, please, please. Nothing makes my day more than feedback.

Disclaimer: I do not and will never own the X-files, Scully, or Mulder (although in Mulder's case I would pay big money), Chris Carter, Fox, and 1013 do. Don't sue. Please. Thanks.

Authors note: PG13 covers language, violence, angst, and a couple sexual innuendoes. The story does mention Millennium, but it is not a post Millennium story.

***

When I was a little girl, I would sit around with my friends and discuss what we would be when we grew up. As we matured, thoughts turned more to collage, and what our major would be. While my other friends switched majors weekly it seemed, there was no doubt nor had there ever been that I would be a doctor. Nothing else was important. I would grow up, become a doctor, get married to a lawyer, and have two kids, one girl, and one boy.

Never in my wildest dreams would I have suspected my life going the way it has now.

I looked at Mulder who was sitting crouched in the dark barn with me, gun drawn. Sweat was dotting his forehead, he was breathing hard, and his shirt was halfway open. Had the situation been less dire, I would have been seriously turned on.

The case hadn't gone well from the start. A girl from Tennessee was dead. The complication-slash-x-file was that there were no marks on the body, none of the tell-tale signs of a cause you are supposed to get with a death. She was just dead. Mulder was sure it was telekinesis, I was just as sure that this was a case of an extremely professional murderer. With most of the cases I have done with Mulder, I always have a little bit of doubt about my scientific theories. With this case, there were just too many pieces missing.

The townspeople were less then helpful. They just wanted us out. The local PD considered us an intrusion, and everyone thought we were nuts. So we had to do everything ourselves, and considering the lack of evidence, this case was probably going to land on a shelve labeled UNSOLVED.

Add that to the fact that Mulder and I weren't even speaking to each other any more. He was the most grumpy, unhelpful person I had ever worked with. He wouldn't listen to me, just ran over my comments and straight to his. He was constantly in my way, and he questioned my judgement every time I did something. If he was a woman, I'd say it was a PMS day. All I knew was that he was making me increasingly angry.

It's always like this after either Mulder or I express some "more-than-platonic" feelings for each other. He or I close off and become poster people for the 'perfectly detached partner.' It's our way of dealing with it, our way of making sure it doesn't happen again. If I'm the biggest bitch Mulder ever saw, he won't want to do anything again, and vice versa. But something else always happens. And right now, I don't want to push what happened aside. I just want to go with it. But I can't tell Mulder that. I can and have lived without my feelings being fulfilled, but I couldn't live without the partnership and friendship Mulder and I share. The bond that I am afraid would be broken under the strain of a relationship.

Then Mulder got the bright idea to sneak onto a private farm where supposeably, a veritable psychic with telekinetic powers lived. The man was very big on privacy. He didn't have a phone, and he didn't answer the doorbell. Yes, we could just pull out our FBI badges and make him talk, but that didn't do much for getting information. I tried every means of attack. "Mulder, it's against the law." "Mulder, you are already in deep trouble, this'll put you over the edge." I even tried his way. "Mulder, if he's psychic, he already knows you're coming." Nothing worked. He staunchly and stubbornly held to his point of view. I wasn't about to let him get killed without me, so here I am.

Upon our arrival, we were quickly attacked by men talking in a southern accent and brandishing riffles. Mulder and I ran to the barn, where we have sat crouched for the last half hour, hiding. I know it is only a matter of time before they found us.

Damn, I was tired of this. Working so hard and never getting anywhere. Some days I would never consider working anywhere but with Mulder, but days like today, I wish I had never set foot in that basement office.

"Scully! GET DOWN!"

Pain. Blood. And then...Darkness.

***

I was in oblivion. No, I wasn't unconscious, I was actually IN oblivion. There was nothing but darkness, but it was a physical darkness; I could feel it. It crowded me, suffocated me. I couldn't move, couldn't breath. I knew death was just around the corner, but I resisted it. I couldn't believe I was going to die. I guess a part of me had always clung to Clyde Buckman's prediction. I didn't want to die. I wanted to live.

"Don't worry, Scully, Dana Katharine, you are not going to die yet." The voice echoed all around me. I turned around quickly, but I couldn't find the source of the voice.

"Who are you?" I demanded, my voice hot. "Are you an angel? God? Show yourself." A small part of me realized I quite possibly was ordering God around, but I quickly pushed it aside.

"No, no, for His sake," An older man, around sixty I would guess, stepped out from the shadows. The room illuminated, and I could see we were. It looked like a living room, with chairs and pillows and other accessories. "Nothing so complex. I'm so sorry about the lighting. Last week we had Villageian aboard and nearly blinded the poor thing! Ha Ha!"

I was astonished by my surroundings, but kept a characteristically stoic face. Even though this fascinated me, I covered it up with strict professionalism. I would retain the upper hand.

"Dear me, Dana, don't put on a false face with me. I know everything about you, down to the second you cut you're first molar."

"How," I said accusingly, "because I don't know. Even if you are psychic you couldn't get that information."

"Because, Dana, I have been keeping an eye on you for a very long time. Ever since the day you're mother conceived."

"Excuse me?" I said breathlessly. This whole thing would have been laughable, had not the surroundings been as they were.

"Oh dear!" The man exclaimed, "I'm going about this all backwards! Please, Dana, sit down, and I'll tell you the whole story, beginning to end. You must excuse me, my dear. Meeting you face to face...well, it's quite an honor, and I'm a bit flustered."

I sat down rather suddenly. This was beyond strange. This was beyond incredible.

"All right then, all settled. Good. Now dear, you are sure to have questions, and feel free to jump in any time for clarification."

I nodded my head yes.

"Wonderful! You were always such a good girl. Now, onto the story. Yes. Hmm. Well, I suppose I should start at the very beginning. That's a very good place to start, eh?" He said jokingly. I had to laugh.

"Well. About a millennia ago, my planet was destroyed. About a thousand of us escaped. Over the years, we have grown as populous as this planet. Five hundred years ago, a sect of the original group discovered this planet. Being a scientific race, which we still are, we asked for permission to study this planet. It was granted, and..."

"Excuse me," I said sharply, "Granted permission from whom?"

"Why, my dear, who do you think?"

"Are you telling me that there is actually a God?"

"Why yes, of course!" he seemed surprised that I would even ask that question. "Of course, you people on earth have some funny ideas about him. He's a great guy. Really nice, respectful. And for His sake, Dana, you should see how much he cares about you, and how much it hurts him when things happen to you." I again nodded my head. Information overload.

"Anyway, we got permission to watch you. The problem arose, however, that we began to interfere in you're development. So, The Big One made a rule that we couldn't interfere. Of course, some of us still do. Those are the guardian angle stories you occasionally hear about."

"Wait a second," I interrupted, "Aren't you interfering with me? For all accounts and purposes I should be dead."

"Well," he started fidgeting, "it's kind of a strange situation with you. Just accept for the moment that I have been doing this a lot longer than you have and that I know what I am doing."

"Anyway, I have been watching you since you were conceived, as I said before. And never, in all my years of this work have I worked with someone as intelligent and beautiful as you, but with such modesty, humility, and compassion. You have so much potential. But you will never achieve you're full potential working with you're partner as you are doing know. And so, I have an offer for you. You said before you were shot that you wished you had never set foot in Fox Mulder's basement office. Well, I am here to make your wish come true. I am going to send you back down to earth, only this time seven years into a future where you did not pair up with Fox Mulder. Now it will only be temporary, and then it will be you're decision which life to live. Understand?"

I again nodded my head. Wow. This was what just moments ago had been a fleeting thought. Now it was a reality.

"I'm going to give you a little background information. Number one, you are married to Dick Jamminson, a lawyer, so you are Dana Jamminson. After teaching two further years at the Academy, you were transferred to the Violent Crimes Section. You were partnered with Tony Motley, a jerk really and you don't work well with him, but you have solved numerous cases for the VCS, and are high in demand."

"But..."

"No but's, Dana, it's how it's going to be. Now. I will be there the whole time. All you have to do is think a question and I'll answer it. Okay?"

"This wasn't what I meant, sir. I thank you for you're consideration, but I need to get back to my job and Agent Mulder."

And suddenly I was not there anymore.

***

I was standing A Bureau room. "Well, I'm glad he listened," I murmured, and than I realized I felt incredibly different. I looked down. Instead of the firm, tight tummy I was used to, a huge bubble was protruding from my stomach. "What's this!" I silently yelled.

"Oh yes, I forgot. Sorry dear. You have one boy, Bryan, and one on the way, a little girl you decided to name Alexandria." I looked down at my big, fat, behemoth of a belly and my eyes watered up. I patted the protrusion and even though I had no clue how it was conceived, or even what the father was like, it was my greatest dream come true.

The hardest thing to live with has no doubt been the fact that I am unable to have children, that I am, in fact, barren. There is not a day that goes by when that horrible fact rises unbidden to the forefront of my thoughts. Even though I was never anywhere near the settling down and raising kids stage in my life, I always believed it would someday happen. To have the possibility taken away from me was the worst punishment anyone could devise.

"Oh please, not another pregnant hormone moment," A sarcastic voice from behind me said. "God, it's worse than PMS."

"Is he always like this?" I asked my friend.

"Well, yes, Dana. But he's no worse then your partner sometimes," he said.

"The difference is, Mulder would never say anything to deliberately hurt me. Even when he's trying to be insulting, I know he still cares."

"So Dana? When you tellin' hubby the kid is mine? Are you still planning on doing a parenting test?"

"WHAT?" I silently yelled.

"Relax, Dana, he's joking."

Well, seven years with Fox Mulder hasn't been for nothing. If anything, I've learned how to handle the occasional sexual innuendo. I gave him the same glare I usually reserve for Mulder, and where Mulder would have smiled cockily, Tony blushed and looked at the ground.

"What do I call him?" I asked.

"Agent Motley, dear."

"What do I call you?" I wondered.

"You can call me Gero."

"Gero, okay."

"Dana, go down to the archives and pick up a copy of the background check on Robert Tohnamaslki."

"Sure, and really, were such good friends that you don't have to worry about simple things like politeness and common courtesy by saying please." Agent Motley glared at me as I turned on my heal and walked out of the office.

As I searched the archives, a man behind me bumped into me. I turned around quickly and came face to face with Fox Mulder.

"Mulder!" I exclaimed, surprised.

And then he said four words that shattered my world. "Do I know you?"

"No," I said sadly, "No. I'm Dana Sc, uh, Jamminson. I work in the VCS."

"Of course, Agent Jamminson. I've heard a lot about you and Agent Motley. So, when are you due?"

"Uh, Gero?"

"A week ago, dear."

"A week ago," I said with a laugh. "Is it classified, or can I know what you're looking for."

"Oh, just an old official report on telekinesis."

"It's over in that corner, right next to the official denial of any extraterrestrial crash at Area 51," I said automatically.

"Oooh. You keep up with the paranormal?"

"No. Well...no."

"Thanks for the tip." Mulder walked off to the direction I pointed him in, when he stopped short and turned around. "Are you sure I don't know you?"

"I don't believe we've met. I certainly know of you."

He smiled slightly at that, then turned and walked away. I leaned against the bookshelf and shuddered.

"Okay, Gero. Since I didn't get paired with him, who did?"

"Why, Agent Fowly, Dear. And let me say this, they haven't been nearly as effective. You two balance each other out, and with them, there is no balance, so they are not able to see beyond what the other see's."

"Are they together?"

"Romantically, you mean? Yes. They slept together for the first time in two years in a creaky hotel room in Oregon. They are privately engaged now."

I was utterly crestfallen. "But I thought he loved, I mean,"

"Dana. You must remember that you and he do not know each other in this timeline."

"Yeah. You know what? I am sick of this place. I want you to take me home! Take me home! I want to be with my Mulder, in my own body, with..."

I saw Mulder's smiling face above me, the bright hospital lights shining in my eyes. "Mulder," I mummer.

"Hey Scully," he said softly. "How ya' feeling?"

"I'm fine. What happened?"

"Well, you took a bullet pretty hard. We thought we had lost you for a while, but you pulled through." Through the smile on his face, I saw pain laced through it.

"What's wrong, Mulder?"

And suddenly I found myself wrapped up in his arms. He was holding me tight against him. "God, Dana." He murmured. "My God, I thought you were dead. God Dana, don't ever do that again."

And suddenly, it was all made clear. I pulled myself out of his grasp slightly, and warped my hands around his face. I kissed him on the quite soundly on the lips. After a couple seconds, I pulled back and said, "I love you."

Mulder laughed softly. When I looked at him questioningly, he said, "This is a rather strange fetish we have. Hallways or hospital rooms. Or both."

I laughed too, than said, "Don't question it, Mulder, just go with it."

"You're place or mine?" he asked, absolutely deadpan.

"A bit slower than that, Mulder."

He sat next to my bed and held my hand as I dozed of to sleep.

"Gero?" I thought, while holding on to the last string of consciousness, "I think I understand what you mean. Until Mulder and I release the walls built around us, we will never reach our full potential."

His smiling face was the last thing I remembered as I slipped into oblivion.