From: Lone Gunwomen Date: Wed, 3 Nov 1999 14:05:28 -0800 (PST) Subject: Title: Immortal Beloved Author: Lark Source: direct Title: Immortal Beloved Author: Lark E-mail: Lark1180@aol.com, ladyfiada@yahoo.com, theagents1013@yahoo.com...check out my website at http://www.geocities.com/Area51/Labyrinth/8251 Rating: PG Keywords: MSR, Story, miniscule angst. Category: MSR, Story Spoilers: minor one for How The Ghosts Stole Christmas Summary: A Halloween story...a little ghost hunting, a little romance...gotta have romance! Feedback: FEED ME, BABY!! However, flames will be used to...hmmm...light my Halloween candles!! Distribution/Archiving: I'd be honored, just as long as my name stays on it and I get some sort of notification, so I can visit! Disclaimer: Mulder and Scully belong to Chris Carter and 1013 Productions. If you try to sue me, all you'll end up with is a finicky computer and a dorm room full of useless stuff... Author's Note: I love Halloween. And I love 'shipper!! This one has a little bit of it. It also has a little bit of angst. But not much. Hope everyone had a happy Halloween!! X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X Immortal Beloved (1/1) X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X Union Cemetery Easton, CT 12:05 AM X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X *God am I exhausted*, the young man thought to himself on the way home. He had had a long day, it was incredibly late, and now he found himself lost, driving past the most frightening place he had ever seen in his life. The cemetery loomed to his right, mist sweeping in and around the gravestones. He tried not to look, but found himself fascinated nonetheless. As he gazed, his attention was drawn to a beautiful statue of an angel holding an open book. He was mesmerized. He noticed that his car was beginning to drift a bit, so he checked himself and dragged his attention back to the road. Just as he did so, a woman dressed in a long white gown crossed the road directly in front of his car. The man screamed, threw his hands up over his face, slammed on his brakes, and felt the sickening thud, followed by the distinct knowledge that his tires had just run over the woman. Shaking, the man tried to calm himself enough so that he could get out of his car and help the poor woman. Heart pounding, he took a deep breath, swung his car door open, and walked around to the front. What he saw frightened him more than what he had just experienced. *There was no one there.* X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X "Scully." "Hey. It's me." "Hi. What's up?" "How would you like to take a little ride?" "What do you have in mind?" "You, me, ghost-hunting." "What? Mulder, are you nuts?" "Awww, come on, Scully. It'll be fun." "Where do you plan on going?" "Ever here of Union Cemetery?" "No, where is it?" "In Easton, CT." "Connecticut!? Mulder, this isn't the brightest idea you've ever had. It's Sunday, first of all. It's also Halloween. There are going to be a million psychos hanging around there." "Oh, stop. It's only a little after six PM. If you haven't heard of Union, then you must have heard something about the White Lady?" "Yes, but not much." "Well, then, come with me, and I'll tell you everything on the way." She sighed. Last time they did something like this, they ended up in a situation she would rather forget about. But then, they had also gained some insight about themselves, their relationship, and each other. Maybe it would be a nice drive up, after all. She thought it over for a long moment before she spoke again. "How long will it take from here?" "Close to four hours. Give or take, depending on traffic." "Alright, I'll go. Where do you want to meet?" "I'll pick you up in twenty minutes. Dress warm." "See you then." She clicked her phone off and raced into her room to change. In Mulder-talk, twenty minutes usually meant ten, if he was this eager to do something. 10 Minutes later X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X He pulled up to the front entrance of her apartment building, and waved when he saw her coming down the stairs. The day had been heavy and grey, and the night was now overcast and chilly. New England was bound to be a bit colder. He had been bored, and he was glad that she was up for some excitement. They drove in silence for a while, until they reached the highway. Traffic was light, so perhaps they would get there a little earlier than expected. "So, tell me all about this place." "Alright. I guess I should start with the e-mail I received a little while before I called you." "Mulder, this wasn't from one of those freaks who loves sending us on wild adventures, was it?" "No, no, no. I got it from the Gunmen." She smiled, rolled her eyes, and mouthed "freaks". "Alright. So you got this e-mail..." "Yes. Apparently, this guy contacted them, and asked for some help. He had been driving alone, late at night, past Union Cemetery. He wasn't paying attention to the road, and when he realized this, he looked forward, only to see a young woman come darting out in front of his car. He ran into her before he could hit the brakes, and when he got out of the car, there was no one there." "How late was it?" "Around midnight. The witching hour, when she's seen the most often." "Who?" "The Lady in White. She's a very famous apparition, you know." "Tell me about her. I've heard the name, but the story isn't familiar." "Not much is known about her. No one knows who she really is, or why she still walks the earth. It isn't even known if she's actually buried in the cemetery. But what people do know is that she appears often, and she loves to have her picture taken. There are literally hundreds of photos with her in them, sometimes appearing only as a white shadow of a person, and sometimes actually showing a detailed impression of her face. Artists have attempted to portray her over the years, as well. On occasion, she appears off the film. People have seen her staring at a statue of an angel, who is holding an open book. The statue is in the cemetery, marking someone's grave. This isn't the first time someone has "hit" her with his or her car, either. Because it's happened so many times, experts have been led to believe that this is how she died." He glanced over at her, amazed to see that she was so enraptured with the story. "And how long has she been appearing for?" "At least fifty years, maybe more." "Did you bring a camera?" He glanced at her sideways, not really believing that she was getting into this so much. "Yeah, it just so happens that I did." "Good. If she shows up, I want pictures." He smiled. "Scully, I'm shocked." "Why? I can get into the spirit of things, too, you know. No pun intended." "Oh, sure. I know. But you're always so...so...not willing to believe?" "No one said I believed in anything. What I'm saying is that I'm getting into this story, and I think this could be fun." "Well, I'm glad that you're getting into it." He smiled again, thinking to himself how great it would be if they could get this much excitement out of their work sometimes. X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X Three Hours Later Union Cemetery Easton, CT X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X "I think this is it." Mulder motioned to his right and slowed the car down. The cemetery was dark and misty, much as it had been on the night the young man had seen the apparition. "Okay. So now what?" "Now we wait." He took a right as they slowly drove past the cemetery, found a secluded place to park on the shoulder, and turned the car off. "What are we waiting for? It's dark now. Will she only appear at midnight?" "That's the most active time. But if we stick around until midnight, I want to get out of here before three." "Why three?" "Apparently, that's the worst time of night to be out. You're more apt to be at the mercy of evil around that time. That's why they call it the 'Devil's Hour'." She shivered. "Oh." "But for now, I guess we could get the camera set up and loaded. Do you mind writing down stuff, or would you rather shoot some photos?" "Let's trade off now and then." "Alright. There's a pen and paper in the backseat." They stepped out of the car, and Scully grabbed the pad and pen from the back while Mulder got out his camera and film. "Isn't it illegal for us to be in a cemetery after sunset?" "Is it? Well, then we'll just take our badges." She sighed. Badges? She went back around to the front seat and grabbed his from the glove compartment. She had tucked her's away in her coat pocket. When she had closed the door again, Mulder motioned her over. "Ready?" "As always." She smiled at his enthusiasm. "Then let's go." They began walking toward the corner. The cemetery was now on their left, and out of nowhere, she felt a strange chill. Try as she might, she couldn't shake the feeling that they were going to experience something incredibly out of the ordinary this night. The mist spiraled up slowly, and as the clouds parted slightly, the moon peeked out and cast an eerie glow over the stone markers. She shivered again and moved closer to her partner, who draped his arm around her shoulders. "Scared yet?" "No, but do you get the feeling that we're going to be witness to something tonight? Something way out of the ordinary?" "Yeah. I've had that feeling since I got that e-mail. But it's exciting, just the same." They turned the corner and found the entrance to the graveyard. As they entered, Scully gasped slightly. "There it is!" She pointed to the vague shadow of a statue, in the shape of an angel. "Come on, let's take a closer look." They slowly began making their way over to the marker. They stopped directly in front of it and looked up. The angel's face was delicately carved, and it had a slight smile, as if it was reading to someone who truly needed guidance, and was seeing the light for the first time. "My God, she's beautiful..." Mulder took a sidelong glance at Scully. "She looks a lot like you." She felt a touch of crimson touch her cheeks. "Is that a compliment?" she asked in jest. At his slight nod, she smiled. "Thank you." "Welcome," he mumbled, slightly embarrassed. He smiled suddenly and said "I get such a warm feeling from that statue, you know?" "Yes. The smile on her face is so peaceful and gentle..." She sighed and smiled. Neither of them was willing to tear their gazes away from the beautiful statue. "Maybe we should take some pictures..." he murmured, still staring. "Yes...Mulder? Pictures?" she said, when she realized that he was still enthralled. "Oh, right. Okay, write this down...the date, the exact time, our location...and weather conditions." "Okay, done." "And the speed of the film...100 ASA, black and white." "Got it." "Good. Where do you think we should start?" "Well, how about around the statue, and actual shots of it?" "Sounds good..." He began snapping pictures, first of the statue itself, then they both stood back and he took a few from a side angle so that he could get the spot where they had just been standing. "Do you want take some now?" "Sure." She took the camera from him, and put the flash on it's highest setting, then took a few shots of the corners of the cemetery, as well as the street where the woman was said to have been struck by a car. "Well, that does it for the film," she announced, as the camera began to rewind itself. It was already 11:30. "Then I guess we should pick a spot and wait until 12." "Okay." They looked around for a good spot to sit and wait until they saw something. "Here's a good spot." There was a fallen log, directly across from the statue, where they would be able to see the White Lady, should she appear. "And Luck would have it that I have another role of film, just in case." She smiled at him as they sat down. In the dim light, Mulder reloaded the camera and handed it back to her. "So, are you enjoying yourself?" "Very much. Thanks for calling me." "Who else would I want to call?" "Then again, who else would I expect to call me? You're the only one I end up on these adventures with." He smiled and drew her closer. "Scully, I'm glad you're having fun. This stuff has always interested me, and now I have you to share it with." "That's sweet, Mulder." She leaned into him as he kissed the top of her head. They sat back and started talking about nothing in particular, for once just enjoying each other's company. Neither noticed the ominous stillness that fell around them as they continued with their small talk. The cemetery grew darker, but somehow lighter, as both stopped talking and looked up toward the statue at the same time. "Oh my God...Mulder, look!" she whispered. He drew in a deep breath as he saw what she was staring at. The mist was swirling up and taking shape in the form of something almost human. Slower and slower, until, finally, they could make out the slender form of a young woman. She was absolutely beautiful, bathed in a white light that illuminated her finely-chiseled features. The light played over her flowing hair, creating a halo-effect all around her. "Christ," he breathed. "Is this real, or am I dreaming...?" "I don't know...I don't know..." Scully gasped as, all of a sudden, barely audible whispers began to resound throughout the cemetery, all around them, growing louder and louder. The White Lady began floating toward the front of the statue, then stopped, turned, and stared up at it with the most amazing mixture of peace and contentment on her face. She was smiling gently as she continued to stare, apparently mesmerized by the beautiful angel. The look was quickly replaced with one of longing, and tears began to stream from her eyes. The tone of the whispering changed as well, into something sad, very much like the sound of sobbing. "Mulder...what do we do? Should we take her picture?" "I don't know, Scully...maybe we should just leave her be...she *did* appear to us, after all..." "Yeah...I wonder what we're witnessing..." "I have no idea...maybe she's replaying the night she died...?" As if on cue, the Lady turned her back on them and glided toward the gates, which slowly opened up onto the street. "Mulder, we can't let her go!" Scully cried, jumping to her feet. "Scully, what can we do? Scully!" He reached for her hand, but she snatched it away, threw him a panicked, half-crazed look, and took off after the White Lady. Running as fast as she could, she followed the woman's spirit. The unearthly whispering grew louder and louder, growing faster-paced and more urgent with every second. Just as the White Lady was about to run across the street, Scully screeched "NO!" and the whispering reached a crescendo, ending with a shrill scream. Mulder reached the spot just in time to see Scully sink to her knees, sobbing uncontrollably. The White Lady turned to face them, smiled sadly and whispered "Thank you", then disappeared into thin air. He raced over to her. "Scully...are you alright?" "I...I...don't know..." She couldn't catch her breath or stop crying as the night's events fully impacted her. "Oh my God, Mulder...that poor woman...I could just feel all of her pain and sorrow..." "Shhhh...it's alright...I promise you, it's okay now. She thanked you, Scully. Maybe this is what she's been waiting for all these years. Someone to stop her from crossing that dark road. And you did it." He wrapped his arms around her tightly and sat her next to him on the grass. "Come on...take deep breaths...my God, you're shaking...it's okay..." Finally her sobbing slowed, and then ceased altogether. She sighed deeply and leaned back into his arms, exhausted and spent. "Mulder?" It came out as half a whimper. "Hmmm?" "I want to see something..." "What's that?" "Come on...I want to see something on that statue." "Okay..." he stood up, helped her to her feet, and they walked over to the statue. Mulder flipped on his flashlight and trained the light over the marker in front of the angel. 'James Harrington, Born Nov. 8, 1900 Died Dec. 14, 1920 Beloved son, friend, and fiancé Rest in blessed peace.' "Who do you suppose that is?" "I don't think we'll ever know, Scully. But your guess is as good as mine." "Well, I have a guess. Call me a hopeless romantic, but I'll bet that was *her* fiancé. She probably went to visit his grave often, and when she was leaving one particular night, she was so blinded by her tears of sorrow that she didn't watch, and ran right in front of a car." "God, that sounds so tragic. But now, maybe she's finally joined him. That's so sweet. I hope they're finally happy now." He looked meaningfully into her eyes. "Oh Mulder. So do I..." She leaned her head against his chest, breathing in his scent and feeling instantly relaxed as the last of her shudders disappeared. He stroked her hair tenderly as the last warm tear went coursing down her cheek. She lifted her head to smile up at him, arms still wrapped around his waist. He looked down into her face and saw the tear trailing down her cheek, so he bent his head and kissed it away. She sighed as his lips lingered for a moment longer than necessary, then felt a rush of relief and happiness as they moved slowly to her mouth. Their kiss was as sweet and tender as the White Lady's love for her James. The passion built up slowly as he wrapped his arms around her even tighter. They broke away from each other and Mulder smiled slowly. "If I died, Scully, would you wait for me?" he asked playfully. "Don't say that, Mulder. I would be lost if you died...but to answer your question...yes." He hugged her tight. "I would do the same for you." She smiled. "I already knew that." "Come on. Let's head back." He took her hand and walked back to the log to pick up their things that had been left there. Before they started back to the car, Mulder stopped in front of the statue again. He looked up and gaped at it as he realized that something had changed. The angel no longer had the same look about her. The book was now closed and tucked under her folded hands. Her eyes were closed as if in heavenly sleep, and the expression on her face was one of contentment and peace. But most of all, a look of love reunited. "Scully..." "Shhh...I see it, too." Together, they tiptoed out of the cemetery and made their way back to the car, neither of them noticing the two ghostly young people who had appeared, holding hands, standing in front of the statue. The End! Just a little Halloween story that I thought up. I would, however, like to add that there really is a Union Cemetery in Easton, CT. And the White Lady is real as well. No one knows how she died. The Warrens, America's most famous ghost hunters, have hundreds of photos with her in them. One of them, which I saw at a lecture, showed the spirit's face in remarkable detail. I've been to the cemetery five times so far, but I don't recall there ever being a statue of an angel. That part I got from this poster I was inspired by. It's hanging in room right now, and it shows the spirit of a young woman, dressed all in white with long, flowing hair, staring up at a statue of an angel who is holding an open book. The print reminded me of the White Lady of Union, who I am utterly intrigued by, and this little fic grew out of that. ~Lark~ PS-the statue really does look like Scully, so I threw that in as well!! ~L~ "All at once the ghosts come back, reeling in you...I wanted to stay, I wanted to play, I wanted to love you." ~#41~ "I say it's love that's hiding deep, in the shadows, in the darkness...maybe we'll shed a little light and it will shine...well love will not approach my tears that fall like rain cause you know, maybe, my heart's into a thousand pieces..." ~Granny~ Both by the Dave Matthews Band =====