A/N: I'm calling this a drabble fic, even though the first chapter is above 1000 words. However, I'm hoping that future chapters will fit better into the already extended EF drabble, definition.

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

The whistle of the tea kettle pulled Spike from his rambling thoughts, the fresh bit of technology in his brain seemed to squirm along to Dru's imagined barbs flickering through his mind. He was the Slayer of Slayer's, William the Bloody, the Big Bad— and now he was little more than a tiger in a cage.

But that wasn't the worst part.

The worst part was the fact that he kept replaying scenes from his recently dissolved engagement to the Slayer. The way she had slipped into his lap as though she belonged there. How her slight weight and heat had been a warming balm for the horrors he had endured only days before. The way her kisses seemed to breathe life into his every fiber and God… he would be lying if he said he didn't want more.

Dru's hurt voice echoed in his mind, telling him he was in love with the Slayer.

Love… shit, I sure as fucking hell know how to pick'em, don't I?

He huffed as he rose from his place on Giles' sofa. "Got one for me?"

Giles gave a resigned sigh, as though he were being compelled by some sort of British code of conduct that prevented him from refusing tea to a countryman. "Yes, of course."

"Brilliant, one sugar, please," Spike replied with a knowing grin, striding toward the counter while Giles prepared the tea.

Giles had taken no more than three sips of tea before the phone rang. He glanced at the clock with a groan before answering.

Spike watched him with interest, sipping his own tea, as Giles spoke quietly into the phone. When the call had ended, Giles turned on his heel eyeing Spike with his lips pressed together.

"Everything alright?" Spike drawled with faux concern.

"I've got to step out for a bit," Giles paused, casting an eye to the sun shining in the courtyard. "I won't be long, however—"

"Blanket's alright if I've got a destination. Even if I nicked your most flame retardant blanket, where the bloody hell am I gonna go?"

Giles mulled that over for a moment, finished his tea and dashed to the door, grabbing his keys. "I expect to see everything exactly as it is when I return."

"I'll just set the place on fire and myself with it, shall I?" Spike scoffed.

Giles nodded. "Don't touch anything— I should be no more than thirty minutes." The door snapped shut behind him.

Spike drained his cup, looking around his surroundings with a renewed interest. "Plenty of time to have a proper nose about," he muttered to himself as he slipped off his stool, making a slow circuit around the room. Over the course of the last several days he'd had lots of opportunity to look around downstairs. The Watcher had plenty of interesting books, not to mention a decent vinyl collection.

He thumbed through the albums, debating whether or not he wanted to put something on but decided not to. The stairs leading up to Giles' bedroom caught his attention and he made his way up.

It was no surprise the bedroom was only slightly more interesting as one of Giles tweed suits. Except for one thing.

On the left side of the room was a very small sitting area with a single chair, yet another bookcase, and an acoustic guitar.

"Well, hello, beautiful," he purred, plucking the guitar from its stand. It had been a while since he'd picked up a guitar but he was fairly certain he remembered more than he'd forgotten. He slipped the strap over his head, placing his fingers carefully and began to strum a few cords, tuning a few of the strings before moving on. A thrill surged through him as the notes began rolling along effortlessly.

He soon realized he was strumming the intro to The Ramones song Can't Seem to Make You Mine, an image of Dru dancing in his mind.

He began singing along, the words cutting into him.

"You're flyin' around like a bee

Hurtin' everything you see

I tried everything I know

To make you wanna love me so

The only thing you do

Is try to put the hurt on me

Can't you see what you're doin' to me

You fill my heart with a misery-"

He nearly choked on the words as he pictured Dru laughing and enjoying the company of the other demons she had so often replaced him with. He paused for a long moment to pull himself under control before continuing on.

"With every breath and step I take

I'm more in love with you

I can't go on like this

A little bit of love, not one kiss..."

Again, the thought of Buffy curled in his lap and the taste of her kiss on his lips began to push Dru from his mind.

"I gotta have your love everyday

A love that's real that will stay..."

Buffy was the staying kind, he mused…

"I can't seem to make you mine

I can't seem to make you mine..."

An image of Buffy laughing, her shampoo commercial worthy hair bouncing around her shoulders as he sang.

"You fill my heart with a misery

With every breath and step I take

I'm more in love with you..."

Buffy dancing with her friends at the Bronze… Her liquid movements when she kicked his ass and put him in his place… He'd always loved her resourcefulness…

"I can't seem to make you mine

I can't seem to make you mine

Come back, baby, to me

In my misery..."

Sitting in Giles' chair downstairs with her clinging to him lovingly… Her body pressed into his lap… The smell of her… That smile… Her fingers toying with the hair at his nape… The way she giggled at his little jokes…

"I give you love, not any day

Never ever go away

I can't seem to make you mine

I can't seem to make you mine..."

He finished the song, feeling more than a little stunned as his thoughts continued to spiral out of control.

A throat clearing alerted him to the fact that he was no longer alone. He looked up to see Giles striding toward him, arms crossed.

"I thought I made myself clear that you were not to touch anything."

Spike scoffed, removing the strap from around himself and putting the guitar back on it's stand. "Relax, was just mucking about, no need to get your knickers in a twist."

"You're quite good," Giles replied. "Bring it downstairs, I'd welcome a bit of music," he added, surprising him.

Chapter End Notes:

The song used in this chapter, The Ramones- Can't Seem to Make You Mine was suggested by Geliot99 and I immediately latched onto it because well, it's so incredibly Spike.