After cooling down in a very relaxing bath, the dark-haired girl took time to mull over the

conversation. Nothing made sense anymore. How could Sark have possibly accused her of

ruining his life? After all, he chose this life. He knew the dangers. Then again, so did she.

Sydney tried to shake away that annoying thought. Trying to clear her mind, she sunk

deeper into the water. An hour later, she decided to finally make her way out of the tub.

Her hand reached for a towel, but it wasn't in its usual place. Sydney mentally smacked

herself upside the head. In her anger and rage, she had forgotten to grab one out of the

drawer. The only problem was...the drawer was empty. At this point, her options were

limited. Her clothes had been left forgotten outside the door. She had planned to change

into something from the bedroom closet, but wasn't about to take the chance of Sark

walking in. Sydney decided to use her dirty clothes temporarily. She grabbed the doorknob

and...it fell off. Crap. The window was too small to climb out of, even if she was crazy

enough to try in her unclothed state. Crap. She could kick the door down and have Sark

come rushing in to see what was up. Wouldn't that be lovely. Sydney paced the small

bathroom for another hour, trying to devise an ingenious way out of the mess, when a

knock sounded at the door.

"What?"

A muffled British voice drifted through the door. "We should be leaving if we are going to

arrive at the extraction point on time."

"I know." Sydney tried to sound gruff and irritated by the interruption.

Silence.

"Sydney, you aren't stuck are you?"

Her mind raced. "Stuck? What do you mean stuck? I'm not stuck. Why would I be stuck?"

A slight sigh wafted though the crack at the bottom of the door. "You've locked yourself

in the bathroom, haven't you?"

Against her better judgement, the reply that issued from between her lips was a defeated,

"Yes."

Another sigh, this time tinged with impatience.

"How exactly did you manage such a feat? The lock is on the inside."

More silence.

"Sydney?"

Overcoming her pride, she calmly replied, "The doorknob fell off."

Muffled laughter drifted to her ears.

Sydney said loudly, "You're going to have to pick the lock and open the door from that

side...and bring a towel."

"For what?"

"For me."

The door opened a few minutes later. Sark was leaning sideways against the frame,

smirking.

"My, my, Agent Bristow, the fixes you get yourself into."

"My towel?"

His right arm stretched out elegantly, towel in its hold.

Not about to show her embarrassment, she accepted the towel with grace and covered

herself, offering him a curt, "Thank you", in return.

"I assure you, the pleasure was all mine."

"It's in there." Sydney pointed at the dumpster.

"You concealed the Mona Lisa in a trash bin?"

"She's in a protective case."

"I may not possess the appreciation for the fine arts that I should, but, Sydney, really, this is

most appalling. Besides, didn't Espinosa procure the case from you?" questioned a

curious, but slightly horrified Sark.

Sydney smiled triumphantly. "I brought two."