A/N: Okay...don't kill me. I know I haven't updated in half a forever, but bear with me. I'm actually proud of this one.

Okay, so this one is shameless G/J, but I highly doubted anyone else could ever dream of having their own castle and still have money to travel. This all makes sense when I explain who John Hammond was. Yeah...you know, marriages in Jane's time are so easy to write? You don't have to do anything!

Anyway, I don't own it, never have, never will, and enjoy!

As the years marched on, regular and orderly, the two squires matured. And as the years tumbled by, contorting and flying, the two squires fell in love. And when one year, clad in shining glory entered the world, the two knights married.

The sun was high in the teal sky, gold sparkling on the floating diamonds of dust as the newlyweds entered the castle they had been given as a wedding present from the king. Not too unusual for knights to have their own castles after all. The castle was small, but it was still a castle, so the two knights were content there.

When not needed by the king, the couple would travel, bringing back many things that gave the castle an almost odd appearance. Chimera from France, armor and paintings from Italy, anything they liked.

"I do not think putting that Chimera there was so much of a good idea," said Sir Gunther one night over dinner, looking up at the leering monster glaring down at him as he ate.

"I think it is fine," laughed Lady Jane.

"Do you have it staring you down? I think not!"

"I do have the Virgin Mary staring at me whenever I play the organ," reminded Jane.

"The Virgin and a Chimera are entirely different, Jane." Here, Jane laughed, for that was the tone he had always used when they had been arguing children.

"I will have Simon move it then. Now back to our conversation."

The two often liked to discuss Theology and the Afterlife, if those odd people in the Orient were at all intelligent in the idea of reincarnation or if they were just damning themselves in the eyes of the Father. Neither were really very certain about their beliefs of the Afterlife. If all souls went to Heaven or Hell, then why were ghosts? Why were there witches and vampires and ghouls?

"Perhaps they were neither good nor bad," suggested Jane. "Ghosts at least."

"I do not know. That sounds just…it does not sound right."

"But when does the Lord make sense?"

"To the devout he does."

"The Lord works in mysterious ways, and I do not really believe that even the most devout understand him exactly."

"Then why does the Bishop sound so all important about his knowledge?"

"Because the Bishop is a biscuit weevil," laughed Jane.

"That is blasphemy!" said Gunther, though he laughed as well.

"I will pray before the witching hour is at hand, not to fear."

When night did fall, the two knights prayed in their separate rooms, Jane spending more time on her knees than Gunther, praying for forgiveness, and saying a few Hail Mary's. It was better to be safe than sorry.

This was the pattern they fell into, they would wake, dress, greet each other for breakfast, go to chapel, and practice until lunch. Over lunch they discussed fighting and ways to improve, and when they were done, they would go attend to other duties or merely sit and read. Occasionally Jane would go into town to plan their excursion to the next country, or they would go for a ride. Around four, Gunther would disappear into his study, and Jane would go play the pipe organ. As far as anyone could tell, Gunther was just working on the specifics of running the castle and the lands around it, figuring taxes and the like.

This was what they did for two years.

After those two years, Jane started to feel ill. She insisted she would be fine but her husband called the healer and forced her to bed anyway, "You are coughing up your own lung, Jane," he said as she protested yet again. "I will just have the healer see if there is anything wrong with you than a case of the 'sniffles.'" Jane started to protest but broke into sneezing, unable to protest as her husband left.

When the elderly man arrived, and saw the knight lying in bed, glaring at the knight that fetched him, complaining of how her husband was babying her, he chuckled. He had heard of the famous Lady Jane, who often said she was Sir Jane, and her famous temper especially at her husband, Sir Gunther.

"Now, Lady Jane—" he said.

"Sir. Sir Jane," she snapped.

"Then Sir Jane, I need you to sit up, please." As she complied, he listened to her heartbeat and breathing, Sir Gunther looking away. He felt her forehead for a temperature, all the normal procedures. "I believe it is only a mild cough and a bad reaction to the flowers outside. Perhaps you should have a different type planted outside."

And that was that. No one thought much of it, the doctor had given his deductions, and they accepted it. Different flowers were planted, and Jane was let out of bed.

Two weeks later, Jane fell more seriously ill. The healer came back, and prescribed chicken bone power in wine, and Jane drank the disgusting mixture faithfully, every day before lunch and before bed. It would cure her after all.

The weeks passed with little sign of improvement, but when she started to deteriorate, Gunther was rarely missing from her side. As she grew weaker and weaker, she drank the mixture more and more, until the day came when the Bishop said a prayer over her, her husband saddened by her side.

And for the first time in many years, Gunther shed a tear as Jane passed.

The castle was never the same. The knight in residence never travelled anymore, he remained there, occasionally harking to the King's call, but was locked inside his study more and more often.

Even those who knew him as sour and reclusive thought he was being introverted.

When another year had passed, Gunther fell ill. The healer prescribed bleeding and drinking a mixture of cow's urine and a crushed dog's tongue, and the castle staff hoped it would help Gunther heal. They had lost their mistress and didn't fancy losing their master as well.

Unfortunately, the cures of the best doctor of the area didn't seem to work, but Gunther slipped peacefully from the world with a smile on his face and the last words of, "Non est ad astra mollis e terris via." There is no easy way from the earth to the stars.

It was this sort of philosophical thing that the knight would say, and it sent those who heard what his last words were into tears. They had loved their masters.

Simon and his brother Peter were cleaning the organ room, for the castle had to look its best, now that it was for the royal family whenever they wanted it.

"Lady Jane loved that organ, did she not?" said Simon as they left.

"Played it every day," agreed Peter. As the words left his mouth, organ music began to play. "Speak of the devil and he will come." they turned, and saw no one at the organ, and crossed themselves, running to tell the others of this incident.

Ruth heard footsteps in an empty stairwell, Sarah saw a woman with long red hair walk from one room to another, John stared as the organ keys moved, Matthew jumped when a door slammed in the middle of the night.

When the Royal Family first arrived, the Crown Prince heard pacing come from the study that previously belonged to Sir Gunther, and the princess smelled the perfume Lady Jane used to wear. The King and Queen had no encounters, but the Queen did feel odd staying in this castle, so recently vacated by the dead couple.

The royal children though, they believed wholeheartedly that the two knights were still living in their home, no matter that they were dead.

"I saw Sir Jane!" said Lavinia to her mother, trying to convince her of what she saw. "She was walking from the organ room, and she waved to me!"

"Lavinia, you were imagining it," said the queen gently. "Lady Jane died two years ago."

"But I saw her ghost! I did!"

It grew too much for the king, and so he ordered that Sir Gunther's private notes be brought to him, and the servants carried them to the king reluctantly. It was their master's private notes after all. They couldn't read, goodness no, but it was the principle of the thing.

But the king read through them, notes in code, and one phrase, one that King Caradoc II understood. Just one.

I, while living, have conquered the universe.

And behind him, Caradoc could have sworn he heard two pairs of footsteps, coming nearer and nearer, and stopping behind him in the clipped professionalism that the two knights that used to live there possessed.

The faintest scent of lilac, and a brush of cold air, and Caradoc turned fearfully, to see nothing there.

It seemed the Breech family had unlocked the secrets of death itself.

A/N: Yeah.

So, John Hammond was an inventor, and was called a genius and also a mad scientist. But he did get married, to a woman named Irene. For their wedding, he had a castle made in Cape Anne, and the two loved to travel (everything I mentioned I am pretty sure are all there). So they've collected all sorts of stuff, and it's just more than a little wierd for Cape Anne. So Irene fell ill and died, and then he died, and they now haunt their home supposedly, because John was fascinated in death and the afterlife and the two always discussed it, and John tried to unlock the secrets of death. Lots of people believe they managed to.

There's a few things I need to explain, aren't there? When the doctor listened to heartbeat and breathing, that means he put his ear to her chest, so that's more than a little disturbing. And the cures I'm pretty sure were real cures for some illnesses. I know they sound disturbing, but whatever, you would have taken them too.

So...even though I constantly abandon you...review!