Svetlana had had her share of hours spent beneath the hands of Baltschug Kempinski's staff of massage technicians, and so once preliminary steps towards loosening her muscles were taken, a bottle of oil reserved specifically for Ms. Baranova's usage was removed from its heater and spread liberally across her back.<br/><br/>"You... will forgive me the liberty of having made reservations... I trust?" Svetlana wonders aloud.  Her eyes are half-lidded and her words are a touch slower than they were moments ago; her friendly, outgoing demeanor may be something of a falsehood, but she could hardly deny how very pleasant her attendant's careful touch really was.<br/><br/>"I... thought it wise to seek amends... pre-emptively.  Just in case."<br/><br/>Alert as she was, she was at no risk of falling asleep under the blonde masseuse's tenderly firm touch, but the opportunity to relax just a little before a night of careful, tense work was welcomed as all signs of stress were dutifully pushed from her well-kept musculature.