Authors notes: Title is from the album by Snow Patrol. Track 8; Set Fire to the Third Bar, is defiantly where my head space would be if I were Abby, post-Hiatus and it is this that inspired the fic. Others have done post-Hiatus better, but this song was too perfect. As I listened to the rest of the album, they seemed to fit, too. All songs are by Snow Patrol, all used without permission. If you have Set Fire to the Third Bar, please listen while reading!
Song-fic; lyrics in //. Big thank you to Abbyforever for Beta'ing
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Set Fire to the Third Bar
The first post card arrived in June. She got it after a long day at work, a dead Lt. Commander and a forged passport had conspired to bring an authoritarian Tony to her lab more often than usual. She loved Tony, really she did, but this wasn't the Tony she knew and it just served to put her more on edge.
A bright sunrise, the kind that would lead only to a warm day, with a beautiful pristine beach stretched out in the front of the picture. It was the type of scene she could imagine him in currently; early morning, no others around, a contemplative mood for company.
She looked for the postmark and then got out a map; Mexican coastal town. She went out to find a bar and drank tequila until the early hours of Saturday morning.
I find the map and draw a straight line
Over rivers, farms, and state lines
The distance from a to where you'd b
It's only finger-lengths that I see
I touch the place where I'd find your face
My finger in creases of distant dark places //
I hang my coat up in the first bar
There is no peace that I've found so far
The laughter penetrates my silence
As drunken men find flaws in science //
Conversation drifted around as she sat alone at the bar. Eventually she had asked the bartender to leave the bottle, smiling grimly at the worm in the bottom. Normally she gave them names. Today she tossed back the liquid like it was water.
One rowdy group of young men had entered just after her. A few had tried to buy her a drink but she had shrugged and turned back to her glass. Now they sat behind her at a table, moaning drunkenly and loudly about their office random drug testing procedure. "It's a false positive. It's just a coincidence, there's no way I tested positive, I took all the herbal pills to clear it out" said one of the men.
Their words mostly noises
Ghosts with just voices
Your words in my memory
Are like music to me //
‘What don't I believe in, Abby?' a memory of a gruff voice whispered into her mind. A small smile tugged at her lips. He had never questioned her science; no matter how outlandish she tended to be (well, there was the one memorable Sycamore tree…). No, he had never questioned her faith in science; he just made her question her belief in him.
I'm miles from where you are,
I lay down on the cold gound
I, I pray that something picks me up
And sets me down in your warm arms //
Tony slid into the seat next to her. This evening he had decided to pre-empt the phone call. She had called him already 3 times this week, asking him to pick her up from this bar.
He knew he wasn't acting like himself, but she wasn't either. None of them were. He asked for a glass, and when she didn't disagree, the bartender left them to the bottle. Tony only had two before the bottle was finished but that was fine, he wanted to drive her home. She stumbled on her heels and hit the floor in the street next to his car. When he helped her up there were tears in her eyes but she hadn't hurt herself. Tony held her, and then drove her home.
After I have travelled so far
We'd set the fire to the third bar
We'd share each other like an island
Until exhausted, close our eyelids //
Putting her to bed was nothing new, nor was climbing in next to her. They would sleep and he would leave in the morning and she would go back to the half life she was living.
And dreaming, pick up from
The last place we left off
Your soft skin is weeping
A joy you can't keep in //
In her dreams, their last moment replayed before her eyes. She was speaking and he was going to interrupt her, putting his finger against her lips to make them silent. Then he would lean forward and kiss her on the cheek.
In her dreams, it was different. When he pulled back, he was happy, and he wasn't leaving her, and seeing acceptance in her eyes, he pulled her into a more intimate kiss.
I'm miles from where you are,
I lay down on the cold gound
And I, I pray that something picks me up
and sets me down in your warm arms
And miles from where you are,
I lay down on the cold gound
and I, I pray that something picks me up
and sets me down in your warm arms //
Author's Chapter Notes:
Set Fire to the Third Bar