Author's Note: Sorry the last chapter was so short guys! I'm glad you liked it though. Here's another, enjoy!

As Sydney and Sark drove through the city they reveled in all of its hustle and bustle. Neither had spent extensive time in Spain and Sark had never traveled to the Coast so it was interesting for both of them.

Their first act of business was taking Marshall to the Punta Europa hospital to take care of him.

After handing Marshall over to the medics, both Sydney and Sark waited for his results to come. Sydney was surprised as to how unrest less Sark was about the whole thing. Though she herself was going crazy with worry and anticipation, she wouldn't have expected the same behavior from him.

Sark paced the halls of the hospital outside of Marshall's room. His bottom lip was curled under his teeth, which Sydney had discovered was the only true sign of worry ever showed. "How bloody long is this going to take? I think I'm going insane." He said finally sitting down next to Sydney.

"I'm worried too." She said quietly. Their eyes locked, fiery blue on soft brown. Before Sydney knew what she was doing, she had reached over and took Sark's hand in her own, comfortingly.

Sark flinched slightly but didn't with draw the hand. He didn't want to look away from Sydney, didn't want to stop what was starting to happen between them even though it was a bad idea through and through.

"Senorita Bristow." The voice of the doctor treating Marshall shook both of them back to reality. Sydney pulled her hand free of Sark's and stood up.

Sark watched her go, mentally slapping himself in the face. What the fuck am I doing? I've got to stop letting her get the best of me.

Sydney turned back to him, her face the picture of relief. "He's ok then?" Sark asked, wanting to feel reassurance for at least one thing in his life.

Sydney nodded. "He's stable and the doctor's said he'll be fine." Her smile was wide as she said it.

"You should probably call you father and inform him of everything so that they can transfer Marshall to secure CIA treatment."

Sydney's smiled lessened. "My father, CIA, right." She turned away. It was like everything normal in her life had fallen away in the past couple of days leaving only her and Sark.

Walking to a pay phone, she picked it up but hesitated before dialing. Taking a deep breath she pressed in her division code. "Hello? This is Mountaineer, request to speak to Jack Bristow." She said finally after finishing the numerous CIA phone codes.

"Transferring to Jack Bristow's private line, please hold." Sydney waited patiently not sure of what was to come.

"Sydney? Sydney where are you?" Her father's voice sounded worried and urgent.

"Dad," she said finally, "I'm fine. Our plane crashed, the pilot double crossed us and jumped out. Sark and I are both unharmed. Marshall…" She paused for a moment.

"Marshall what?" Jack asked impatiently.

"Marshall was knocked unconscious from the plane crash. We're at the hospital right now and they're treating him..."

"What! What hospital? How could you let this happen?" Jack's voice was brimming with rage.

"I don't know." Sydney said, her voice cracking with shame. "I didn't mean for it to happen."

"I'll deal with you later Sydney, we have to get Marshall into CIA care. Where are you now?"

"Punta Europe Hospital but dad…." The line disconnected cutting her off.

Sydney hung up the phone, taking a deep breath. A feeling of immense shame hung over her. It was the type of shame that only her father could inflict with his harsh words and had been doing so for as long as she could remember.

Slowly she turned away from the pay phone and back to Marshall's room. As she approached the room she heard voices. Standing next to the doorway she realized it was just Sark talking and that made her stop.

Sark was pacing the room back and forth as he talked to the still unconscious Marshall. If it had been anyone else besides Sark, Sydney would have found it endearing.

"I mean it's not like I really didn't like your or anything mate, you know? It was just, it was just, ah I don't know. Just me being an ass I guess. I mean you've got to wake up Marshall. You got too much going for you not to.

Running a hand through his hair, Sark stopped in front of Marshall's bed. "As I gather it, you've got a wife and a kid at home right? I mean, if you ask me, that's just about all a man really needs isn't it? I mean, living the bachelor's life is fine and at first glance you'd think that out of the both of us, I've got the better deal. But the way I see it, you've definitely gotten the upper hand. I can't even remember the last time I felt close enough to a woman to want to marry her and settle down with her, maybe I never have.

Sark trailed off as his mind drifted to thoughts of the kiss between him and Sydney, resting his hand against Marshall's bed.

"I've heard that really works sometimes."

Sydney's voice jolted Sark back to reality, thoughts of Sydney vanishing like smoke. "What works?"

"Talking to someone unconscious." Sydney stepped into the room and walked over to Sark, standing next to him. "Sorry I couldn't help but overhear." There was an apologetic smile on her face but Sark detected amusement in it as well so he turned away, trying to mask his embarrassment.

"Yes, well…" He cleared his throat, moving to stand next to the door. "I think we should fine a place to stay the night now that we know Marshall will be in CIA care. We can leave a note with the hospital so that they'll know where to contact us."

"Alright, but I get to drive." Sydney said, passing him at the door.

Sark watched her for a moment as she marched down the hall. "Not a bloody chance in hell." He jogged to catch up with her, already at the exit.

They walked the parking lot in silence. As they reached the jeep, Sydney turned to Sark. In a sudden movement she had pushed him up against the side of the jeep, pressing there bodies together sensually.

There eyes locked. His cool blue eyes searched her brown ones. Without thinking he let her pull him closer, locking there lips in a passionate kiss. As Sydney slid her tongue into his mouth, Sark felt his brain becoming intoxicated by her. He let his hands entangle themselves in her soft hair.

But as soon as the kiss had started, it ended. Sydney slipped out of his arms. Sark turned to look at her, his head still spinning from the kiss. He focused on Sydney, a wide grin spread across her face as she dangled a set of keys in front of his face.

Frantically, Sark reached into his back pocket and unsurprisingly found the keys to the jeep gone. "Damn." He said, looking back at Sydney, who was now climbing into the driver's seat of the jeep.

He had let his guard down because of her again. It was getting to be more than a little pathetic and Sark knew it. As he walked to the passenger seat of the jeep he touched his bruised lips and couldn't help but smile. "Oh the games we play."

She wanted to play games. He'd give her games. Launching himself into the passenger seat, Sark slammed the door hard behind him, still smiling.