Spike walked through the tunnels, carrying the unconscious Slayer in his arms.

"Don't know why I did that, pet. Why couldn't I just kill you and be done with it." He muttered more to himself than the blonde in his arms. He walked carefully down the tunnel, making sure he didn't cause Buffy's body to bump into anything. "Don't want you to be made at me for more than just turning ya, luv." He glanced down at her paling face. "Like ya need a reason to pummel me. Do it just 'cuz ya like it. Bloody Slayer." He mumbled, not noticing her head turning slightly towards his chest. He continued mumbling, half to himself, half to the stagnant Slayer, as he made his way to the crypt. His crypt. Soon to be their crypt. And if that tingle down his spine meant anything, he needed to book it to prevent from bursting into ash; the sun was going to rise soon. He picked up his pace, slipping through the tunnels like a thief in the night.

The Master was angry. He was stuck in the basement of this wretched school. How was it that the stupid sun managed to rise way before his plan could completely unfold? Grumbling quietly to himself, he folded himself into a tiny ball to avoid both the sunlight and from being seen.

Let's look on the bright side. This way I can fully enjoy my reign of torment against humanity. Ooh, the tingles that image provides. He thought to himself, chuckling slightly. Tonight is going to be fun.

"Giles, we have a problem." Xander burst into the library, Angel following closely, slightly steaming.

"We do?" Giles looked around for his blonde Slayer. "Where's Buffy?"

"That's the problem. I managed to track her scent to a small cavern-like room in the tunnels, but the room was empty when we got there." Angel explained, avoiding the scattered beams of sunlight, going to sit down. "Some of her blood has been spilt, I could smell it. However, I could also detect the Master's scent and one other person."

"Did you recognize this other person?" Giles said, removing his glasses to clean them.

"Yes, but I can't identify exactly who it is." Angel huffed, slouching down in the chair.

"You don't think-" Willow started, but stopped. Clearing her throat, she tried again. "You don't think Buffy's... that Buffy is..."

"Dead?" Angel provided. He shook his head. "I have no idea. The level of permeation of her blood was too low for her to have died, however that simply means that only a small amount of her blood actually hit the air." Angel looked down before continuing. "The Master could have taken only a tiny amount, or he could have nearly drained her, leaving just enough to let her bloodscent spread throughout the room. But seeing as we didn't find her body, I can't be sure."

"Oh." She glanced at her hands, which were knotted in her lap.

"Well, sun's out. Master can't do too much harm, right?" Xander asked.

"That is correct. Hopefully Buffy will appear before night falls." Giles said, rubbing his forehead with his thumb and forefinger. "Otherwise, we're in for the fight of our lives."

Spike made it through the doors of the crypt just barely missing the first rays of the morning sun. With an unneeded sigh of relief, he leaned against the crypt door, still holding the blonde in his arms.

"Let's get ya somewhere ya won't be disturbed. Not that they would actually disturb ya. Out like a light, ya are, kitten." He murmured, heading to the stairs. He didn't bother trying to climb down the stairs with an unconscious Slayer. He simply jumped, bending his knees to cushion the landing, trying to jostle her as little as possible. "Yeah. 'Cause you'd feel that in your almost undead state. Don't even know why I brought ya down here. Still can't figure out why I didn't just bleeding kill ya." He laid her down on the bed, not bothering with putting her under the sheet; she neither needed the warmth nor did he feel like trying to find new satin sheets. He had seen many new vamps claw at anything that constricted them in any way. It would be a shame to see the pretty white dress rip to shreds, but he could always find another and steal it. He brushed a strand of her blonde hair out of her face, admiring the Californian tan that was slowly fading. She'd be as pale as him when she woke. I'll miss that tan, Slayer. He turned to retreat to the large chair sitting opposite the bed when he felt a strong grip on his wrist. Shocked, he turned to see the Slayer's small hand possessively holding his wrist. Never had he heard of anyone managing to retain some muscle function between death and rising. Even with the one Slayer who had previously risen from the dead, she had been dead as a doornail until the moon rose and she rose with it. He tried to jerk his wrist from her grip, but even supposedly dead Buffy's grip was stronger. With a sigh, Spike gave up trying to reclaim his wrist, and simply laid down next to her. He laid on his side, looking at her.

Might as well get some rest myself. Don't want the Slayer to catch me too off guard. Something tells me this one is gonna be a hellion. And with that thought, Spike closed his eyes, and drifted off to sleep, Buffy's hand still gripping his wrist.

A/N: Thanks to those who reviewed! Big motivation on my part. I have a general idea of how the story is going to go, but no definitive plot/story line to follow. So if there is anything you'd like to see, drop me a line and I'll try to work it in. Also, I'll apologize now if anyone seems too out of character.

Should also mention that I own nothing. Except a (sometimes) overactive imagination.