[His interest is pricked the moment that the needle comes out. For a moment he thinks- assumes, actually, and he feels a little annoyed at himself for that- it has to be some kind of illegal drug.

But this is much better, really, isn't it? He notes the timer, guesses that he has twenty minutes before she wakes up. Good. He can do a lot in twenty minutes. 'A lot', in this case, meaning slinking out of his hiding place and, as gently as he can, checking her pulse, her breathing, the relaxation of her muscles, noting the flicker of her eyelids- dreaming. He had been right. Then onto the machine itself, the chemical currently flowing through her veins- he wonders how best to get a sample.]