Title: Immortal Beloved
Author: Lark 
Rating: PG 
Keywords: MSR, Story, miniscule angst. 
Category: MSR, Story 
Spoilers: minor one for How The
Ghosts Stole Christmas 
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...<g>

Summary: A Halloween story...a little ghost hunting, a little
romance...gotta have romance!

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 
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

"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.

X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X 

10 Minutes Later 

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!! 

"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