This was supposed to be about two things: Helen and music. 'Cause I like to think that she did something else in her free time back in the Victorian-era - other than study sciences I mean. I wasn't able to find some time to write right away (had already enough to write for school), so I thought about it a lot. Then, I realised I didn't know that much about music, so it could be hard to make believable. One has to write about what she knows right?

So I changed my idea a little. InnerSpace's special on Sanctuary Season 3 is to blame. There's no season 3 spoiler, don't be afraid. It's just that Amanda's interview in it made me think about a third thing to add to this story: high heels. How does Helen Magnus do to look amazing while walking, and running, and fighting, in those shoes? It's not human - I know, she's an abnormal. Lame joke.

Anyway, this story took another twist and I'm glad it did. Finally got some time to sat down and write it.

It's un-beta'd, so any mistake is mine and mine alone. Feel free to point them out if you see them. I would help me, as Enligh isn't my first language. :)

Disclaimer: Sanctuary and those characters are not mine. Never were and never will be. But I wish.

PS: For those who are wondering, chapter 4 of Family Ties has been sent to my beta. :) As soon as I have it back, I'll post it.


ELEGANCE

All he had wanted was for her to be normal. His work hardly was; he wanted his daughter to be.

But she wasn't interested in learning to be a woman. She wanted to learn foreign languages, science, medicine and historical events.

He had asked her - forced her to take piano lessons, like her mother use to.

She took a few classes, mastered it enough to please her father, than got back to making experiments on her spare time.

He had then tried the violin.

The exact same thing happened. She was a fast learner and a hard worker, so she soon got back to the lab she had set up in her room.

How had he wished for her mother to be alive. She would have had a model – a feminine one.

She had been truly beautiful, an amazing woman. Her eyes were charming, and her cheeks would always rise up in a smile that would light up an entire room and make him happy beyond reason. He had fallen for Patricia, that was her name, the moment he had laid his eyes on her. He had immediately known he would spend his entire life treasuring her and loving her.

His daughter had every charm her mother had - and so much more.

Gregory Magnus didn't want to expose her to his work with abnormal beings. It was classified and precarious. Even though Helen had asked many times to get a glimpse of what he was working on, he had never allowed her downstairs. It was simply too dangerous for a woman and it would have been frowned upon. That's why he was trying to get her into music, trying to get her do something more womanly. But no matter what he did, she always got back to reading his books, since it was the only thing he allowed her to do.

His last try was something he was sure she would hate, but he thought maybe it would change her.

So, he enrolled her in a ballet school.

His tenacious teenage daughter didn't complain and attended her first class with punctuality and a smile. She was rapidly engrossed by the complexity of it and found it quite challenging – and since Helen Magnus had made it a point to overcome every challenge she encountered, she decided to fight right though this one.

'Ballet is technical,' she told herself. She had to think about it with her head, like she did when studying mathematics and chemistry in her father's books, and everything would work out all right. After all, an attitude meant having one leg lifted and well turned-out with the knee bent at approximately 90-degree angle. The impulse on the floor needed to be just right in order to support one's weight. An arabesque wasn't complicated once you knew how to shift it and a grand battement wasn't more complicated than physics when you brought it down to forces in action.

Each day she came back from her ballet class, she'd smile at her father and start working on her technique. Gregory was pleased to see her doing something else than experiments and she seemed happy enough. That's how they lived for a couple of years, until she was old enough to go to University.

"Please father, let me audit classes at Oxford," Helen pleaded. "I promise to behave myself."

Gregory let out a breath. He had thought she would stop thinking about her studies, but it turned out he was wrong. After mathematics, chemistry and physics, she had turned to biology, history and languages, but his books hadn't been enough. She wanted to be taught by professionals, like everyone else. "Helen, I only want the best there is for you," he said with sincerity. "Do you really want to go to University?"

"Yes, with all my heart," he answered as she walked to him. She took his hands. "I'll always be grateful for what you did for me father. Really. I appreciate taking piano, violin and ballet lessons, but that's not who I am, father."

He smiled at her before sighing. "You never stopped, did you?"

"What do you mean, father?"

"You never stopped wanting to know what I was working on?" he asked her.

Helen Magnus didn't answer, not knowing how to. She knew he was disappointed by her lack of interest in anything remotely womanly. She also knew how much of her deceased mother she remembered him. Only, she was far more interested by science than knitting.

"It's all right darling. I understand. You're my only child and I'd be proud if you were to go to Oxford. I can accept it. Come now." Gregory offered her his arm, which she happily took, flashing him a brilliant smile. He immediately knew he had made the right decision and, as he led her to his laboratory, he regretted not having made it sooner.

8 8 8 8 8

"How do you do it?" came the question from Will after more than a few glasses.

"Do what?" Helen asked, laughing. He had previously asked her to take off her shoes so he could try them.

He rose up and attempted to imitate her walk, failing considerably. "Being 159 years old and still looking stunning, beautiful and, most of all, elegant, while walking in those shoes?" Will asked in disbelief before slumping in the couch next to him, rapidly removing Magnus' shoes and tossing them out of his way. They hurt like hell. He ten took a sip of his wine and waited for her explanation while the others were trying not to laugh.

Helen stood and walked straight to him to retrieve her shoes. She leaned close to him, bringing one arms against the back of the couch to support herself. "I had years of practice," she whispered, than, backed away and took his glass. "And while I'm at it, you've had enough wine."

"You've had more than me!" Will shot back at her.

She turned back and shrugged, "I've also had 159 years to get use to the effects of alcohol." She glanced at Bigfoot. "Make sure he makes it back to his room."

The big guy grunted as she left the room and made her way to her quarters.

159. She was now 159 years old.

In 365 days, she would be 160.

Her staff had prepared dinner for everybody and they had spent their evening reminiscing and drinking one of the finest wines she had in stock. She smiled to herself. They had been thoughtful. One tended to lose sight of her birthdays after 159 years, but they had made this day special enough just by spending it with her.

Only, when she found herself alone in her room, Helen sighed and dropped her shoes, leaning back against the door. Aging was something she wasn't looking forward to. Well, she wasn't aging per se, but the passage of time was still there. She was entitled to lose everyone she cared about. Sometimes, longevity sucked.

Caught in some older memories, she reached under her bed for a little box and opened it, reveling two pointe shoes and two ballet slippers. She smiled again.

One definitely learned to be elegant.


That's it. Hope you liked it. And pretty please, leave a little review before closing the internet window, would you? ^^