For no particular reason she could have ever put her finger on, Galina continued to read some minutes longer, even past the time she knew Souma had succumbed to the drug. This was not a thing she would ever confide in her Papa. No, she could only imagine the look of confusion - concern even - that would creep over his chiseled features as he tried to read the purpose behind his little wolf's odd whim.

And so these small moments in time she would keep for herself, entirely. Not even Souma himself would know the melodious cant of her voice as she read the first of the tales, soft and low and very near to tender. Nor would he - or anyone in all the world - know those few precious minutes when she set the novel aside and simply looked on that sleeping face, humming sweetly, just under her breath. A small, wistful smile shone as her as her fingertips traced the lines of his handsome face.

But Galina knew she could not linger. No, not another second longer. Carefully she rose, settling Souma easily onto the loveseat with a small pillow beneath his head. She placed his arms comfortably over his chest, holding his hand in her fingers for a moment as she bent to place a small kiss on his forehead.

The theft itself seemed near anticlimactic now, a rather routine bit of thievery in truth. Of course she had memorized the home's blueprints, and to Galina's knowing eyes the location of a false wall was as glaring as if the architect had shone a spotlight on the place he intended to place a safe. The Winchesters were so confident in their subterfuge that they had not even bothered to secure the door to their interior vault. Cracking the safe just behind the panel was a job she might have accomplished when she was still just a little girl. 

She rolled the rifle schematics into a thin scrolling tube, tying it off with a few hair ribbons before dropping them from a window to the shrubbery below, to be collected when she and Papa were on their way for the evening.

And that was a moment she really ought not put off any longer. The theft of the schematics would likely remain undiscovered for some days yet - no sooner than the following Monday, in all likelihood, at worst. But this brief mission had, without fail, gone off without a hitch. Logic said there was little sense in putting herself at further risk for discovery, or even the slightest suspicion. 

All had been put swiftly back to order, as if her brief sojourn through the Winchester home had been nothing more tangible than the passing of a wraith. Still, Galina's dark eyes could not help but fall back to the sleeping man, an uncommonly decent man at that, perhaps too decent to see the wolf beneath the woman? She tore her gaze away, taking up both champagne flutes before she left the room swiftly, descending unseen to the first floor while disposing of the remaining contents - both tainted and not - in a passing potted plant. 

Finding her Papa was nothing so difficult in the least - the Baron Demidov was, as always, the gravitational center of most any social gathering, holding his own impromptu "court" outside on the grand lawns of the Winchester estate. Still, he [i]tsk-tsk[/i]ed with genuine concern when he noted the too-pale visage of his beloved daughter - was she feeling a touch ill, perhaps?

Heavy-hearted pardons were certainly begged, as profuse as the well-wishes for the young Baronessa and the genuine disappointment that the Baron too must be gone - and yet a devoted parent's duties were never really done, and certainly the Winchesters would understand this undying fealty as well as any, would they not? Ah, but [i]of course[/i] they would...

[center]**********[/center]

Vasily rolled the schematics into the brass tube, before turning his gaze once more to his daughter, sitting so still across the coach from him. Her long, dexterous fingers were folded in her lap, as still as the rest of his little Night Wolf. Galina's gaze had turned solemn, far and away from her father, from the coach they rode in as she peered out its window, to the full moon riding the sky above them.

"You did well tonight, Galina," he said softly, reaching across the coach to take one of her hands in his, giving her fingers a squeeze.

Startled, she turned to her father, a surprised smile finally curving the corners of her lips upward. Galina did not reply though, only nodding her head in acknowledgement for his praise, patting his own hand reassuringly before her gaze returned to the moon that seemed to chase their coach.