Hi guys!
I'm sorry it's taken this long again, school is apparently trying to kill me..
This fic was inspired by (and got it's title from) one of the best songs I've heard in a long time:
Snow Patrol feat. Martha Wainwright - Set the Fire to the Third Bar
The lyrics are amazing, and I love the song to pieces, you can listen to it
here on youtube: .com/watch?v=ANWRhyp-RcM

B&B are in a relationship and Bones leaves for a dig in Alaska...
Rating: M
Spoilers: nope
Disclaimer: Bones belongs to Fox, the song to Snow Patrol


The Distance from A to Where You'd B

He runs a hand through his hair, a weary sigh leaving his mouth as he closes the manila folder and rests his eyes for a minute. It's been a hell of a day at the Hoover, and knowing that Bones is somewhere up North digging up remains and mingling with other squints isn't exactly comforting. Neither is the fact that the last words they spoke to each other five days prior were those of anger and resentment. She'd taken a cab to the airport in the early hours of the morning, not waking him up to say goodbye. He hadn't heard of her since.

He opens his eyes, taking out the map he keeps in the top drawer of his desk, and spreads it open on his desk. He takes out a blue pen, one of those Bones bought him last week, he realizes with a bittersweet laugh. Uncapping the pen, he puts the tip down on DC, tracing a deep line across the worn paper, stopping as he reaches Alaska. He draws a circle around the word Talkeetna, a small town South of Mt. McKinley, labeling it with a small, crooked B that almost looks like a heart. Her infuriated voice still echoes in his head, as if she's screaming at him right now. Maybe I won't come back at all, then. It's not like you'd care.

He curses under his breath, stuffing the map back into the drawer, and gets up to leave. Why the hell did he let her leave like that? She didn't mean what she said, did she? He refuses to believe that, despite the nagging voice in his head reminding him this was Temperance Brennan. She always meant what she said. The bullpen goes quiet as his office door slams shut and he leaves for the day. Not one of the five people waiting for the elevator gets in with him as he barges in and punches the button for the ground floor.


She hangs her coat up in the small, dingy bar that serves as the sole venue of social life in the 700-resident town. Her eyes burn as she makes her way to the bar and orders a shot of tequila. She tells herself it's the freezing days and nights spent digging up remains and the dense cigarette smoke that fills the bar that causes her eyes to water. Not that she doesn't know better.

Around her, her inebriated colleagues bicker about physics, chemistry and biology, laughing heartily at the ever more absurd theories each of them comes up with. Any other day she would correct them, telling them that according to Gauss' law, it was impossible... But not today. Today she doesn't hear a word. Today she sits there in silence, sipping her beer as she unconsciously sways to the soft melody floating through the bar. It's never been this hard for her to fight the tears that threaten to spill from her eyes. She finally knows what it feels like to be lonely in a room full of people.

After another hour has passed, she decides she's been there long enough to seem sociable and not make the others worry about her. She nods her goodbyes, and wraps her coat tightly around herself before disappearing through the door into the cold night. The darkness engulfs her as she starts her way toward her small cabin at the edge of the town. It's not a long way, and she's become accustomed to making her way through the town with nothing but the moon and stars as her guide.

When she makes it to the cabin, she's shaking all over. The tears stream down her face as she stumbles on the front steps, her ass hitting the hardwood. She winces with pain, but stays put as pure white snowflakes start floating down from the indigo sky. She tips her head up and lets the icy drops melt onto her cheeks, mingling with her salty tears. For the first time in days, the words she's kept tightly locked lurk into her mind, his low voice booming in her head. Fine, go! It's not like you care what I think.


It's Thursday night and he's awakened by an incessant knocking on his front door. The green digits of his alarm clock read 3.15. He doesn't bother putting on clothes or turning on the lights as he darts through the apartment, and flings the door open. She stands in front of him, shaking with tears that run down from her red eyes. "I'm sorry," she breathes as he grabs her hands and pulls her flush against himself, crashing his lips to hers.

"No. I'm sorry," he murmurs into her mouth as he shuts the door and pushes her in the general direction of his bedroom. As her tongue sneaks into his mouth, he starts stripping off her clothes hastily, flinging them to the floor. He has her naked in a matter of seconds, his lips tracing down her neck to her collarbone. He sucks a nipple into his mouth, and she throws her head back on a low gasp.

They never make it to the bedroom. He nips at her pebbled nipple, and she drags him to the floor with her. "I shouldn't have – let you go," he breathes into her neck as her nails dig into his shoulder blades. Her fingers slide through his hair, bringing his lips to hers as she whispers against them, "I'm here." He kisses away the tears from her cheekbones, settling between her spread thighs.

He slides into her in one deep, hard thrust, making her moan his name. Her hands cup his ass, urging him on as he sets a quick pace, burying himself deeper inside her with each push. She writhes beneath him, her back hitting the floor as their sweaty bodies rub against each other in the darkness. Her whimpers grow louder and faster, and he pushes deeper until her body clamps around him and she tumbles over the edge, screaming his name. Her core grips him like a vice and with one more thrust he comes, a low moan of her name rumbling from his lips.

He rolls them over, and she rests her head in the crook of his neck. He kisses the salty skin of her shoulder, his hands settling low on her back, right where they belong. She smiles and hums into his neck before her eyes close, and they drift off to sleep in each others arms, in the middle of his living room floor.