taxonomites | [Location: Willow's Apartment] Um...who are you?

For Willow, the past two weeks or so had been an emotional rollercoaster. Finding out what she could become, and that all of the people she cared for knew about it, well, that was a giant knife in the chest. Tara had been a welcome comfort. Even though, sometimes, Willow felt that Tara looked at her weird. Well, not weird, but peculiar. Like she was trying to judge Willow. See if she was going to break down crying or go all Witches of Eastwick. Which makes no sense now that Willow thinks about it. None of the witches were evil. The Craft would probably be a better comparison thing. Tara was afraid that Willow'd turn into crazy Nancy. Drunk with power, using magick all willy nilly.

Tara had spent the night, and she had curled up against Willow. Their arms wound around each other, clinging like a lifeline. Willow slept alright. Not exactly peacefully, but Tara had a calming influence over her. Willow felt Tara shift, turning herself into the little spoon and Willow tightened her arm instinctively around Tara's waist.

When morning came, Willow stirred, grunting in her sleep. Her nose was buried in a head of hair and she sighed blissfully. Inhaling deeply, her brow furrowed a fraction as she tried to register the smell. Tara hadn't smelled like that the night before. Willow cracked an eye open, looking down at the body she was extremely snuggly with. When she saw that the head of hair was brunette, not the dirty blonde of her girlfriend's, Willow's eyes snapped open. "What the hell? Who are you?" Willow gasped, pulling her arm away and drawing back. She was just wearing a pair of boyshorts and a camisole, so Willow felt a little on the naked side.

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"Flattering." Helen tilted her head and there was a small smile with it. "Closer to over a hundred."

Willow's eyes widened as her brow arched towards her hairline. "Over a...hundred?"

"But...how?" Willow's dealt with all sorts of supernatural beings but immortals that don't drink blood, kinda on the confusing side.

"Longevity, it would seem. My aging is halted, if not stopped at all."

James commented several times how she looked no different from 1886. It was flattering, but realizing how long had passed since then? It made one a little aware of how the world changed.

"Goddess...." Willow muttered, still in shock. "Can you get hurt?"

She just...stopped aging. That's just...unusual.

"Of course. Just because my cells stop aging doesn't mean that I can't die. I can get sick, injured, killed even. Think of it as merely my lifespan has been made extremely longer than that of a normal human."

Helen always suspected that it would be as long as Vampires normally lived. At least, the Vampires of her world. Which were turning out to be rapidly different.

"Do you know how it happened? Just one day you didn't get any older? Or you turned sixty and people kept saying you were turning forty?" Willow asked, mind all sorts of blown.

Helen gave a small sad smile. "I was the one that caused it. Simply put, working at the frontiers of science can cause miracles and curses."

Of course it was much more complicated than that. But Helen didn't like sharing it with everyone. She wouldn't have shared it with Will if he hadn't of pushed so hard.

"Oh...I see," Willow nodded, her brow furrowing a little. "Well, that's just...."

"Do you still celebrate birthdays? Or will you be thirty-nine forever?" Willow asked, that question suddenly popping into her head.

Helen laughed. "It's been some years since I've had one."

"What?" Willow gasped, her eyes widening.

"How could you not celebrate your birthday? The one day a year that's meant just for you," Willow says, frowning a little.

"I am usually so busy with my work and my patients that it slips my mind. Of course my staff will make something a little special, but hardly a party."

Of course, with Willow, she'd usually been the one to remember her birthday, parents always too busy to throw her a party. Her mother had stated that throwing a birthday party would lead to spoiling a child, and she wouldn't have that.

"I guess if someone was really busy, they could forget their birthday once, maybe twice," Willow says, chewing at her bottom lip a little.

"My line of work keeps me rather busy. I have over a hundred patients in just one building." She shrugged. It never really meant much to her to remember her birthday after the turn of the century.

"Over a hundred?" Willow parrots, eyes widening. "Do they come voluntarily or do you have to send people out to get them?"

"Both." She looked at Willow. "It all depends on the individual."

"Are there more walk-ins than...less-than-volunteers?" Willow really didn't have a good way of saying 'taken with force'.

"Most of the time we have to fetch them, if that is what you are asking."

"That's it, yeah," Willow nods, tucking her hands into the pockets of her jeans. She wonders if they were really that dangerous. And if she'd ever end up like that.

Helen pulled the blazer around her tighter as they walked. Who would have thought being barefoot over the sidewalks of Taxon would actually make her wish she had her high heals?

All the talking had caused Willow to just instinctively follow Helen, having no personal idea where the doctor's sanctuary was. "Is it much further?" Willow asks, looking around. She had very few places in Taxon that she had to know how to get there. She's not impatient or bored, just curious.

"Just a bit. You should be able to see the structure here once we turn this corner. It is very hard to miss."

"Oh, alright," Willow nodded, flashing a small smile. "How long have you worked there? Did you start it?"

"Turn of the century." Helen smiled at her. "That is, the turn of the twentieth century."

"Oh my goodness," Willow says, extremely impressed. "You've helped a lot of people over the decades, huh?" Willow asks softly.

[Location: Willow's Apartment] Um...who are you?

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