A/N: First off, thanks for reading. I don't feel like I say that enough to my readers, so I'm saying it now. And for a little fun, I'm starting a quasi-contest. The first person to correctly identify the recurring theme in the chapter titles of this story gets some sort of fabulous prize (Like helping me decide what the fabulous prize is). Good luck, and happy reading!

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"Don't wish, don't start

Wishing only wounds the heart

I wasn't born for the rose and pearl

There's a girl I know

He loves her so

I'm not that girl." -Idina Menzel

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"Come on, Brennan. You should come with us. Drinking. Dancing. Crappy food. You'll have the time of your life."

"From your description, it sounds more like I'll have the hangover of my life."

"You don't get to be stubborn today. I'm your best friend and I'm telling you that this is one Friday night you are not allowed to spend in the lab, working yourself to death."

"I'm not working myself to death if I enjoy it, Ange."

"Cam's right. You're a damned workaholic. You know, I should ask her to make you take some vacation time. Then we'll really be getting somewhere."

"Don't you dare." Brennan's voice became very threatening.

"You've got to have at least a few months of skipped vacation time. I'm sure she'd love to get rid of you. In fact-."

"I'm not coming tonight. And you'll never convince Cam to back your evil little plot."

"Am I interrupting something?" A deeper voice asked from behind Angela.

"Booth, thank God."

"Thank God?"

"It's an expression, Booth. Isn't that what you're always saying."

"Touche."

"Fire!" Yelled Angela, suddenly.

"What?" Brennan asked her, confused.

"Oh, nothing. I was just feeling left out. As soon as Booth walks in here, you don't have eyes for anyone else." Brennan sighed at the comment, being too used to Angela to be surprised by its boldness. "I'm leaving for the night, now that I see you're in good hands. Oh, and Booth...make sure she doesn't stay here all night." Angela departed, her plan having somewhat worked. All that mattered was that Brennan was going out tonight. It didn't matter that Booth was the one taking her. In fact, it was probably better that way.

Back in the office, Booth and Brennan were recovering from Angela's personality.

"So, dinner?" Booth grinned, dragging his protesting partner to her feet. "You'll thank me for this one day, Bones."

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"What is this place?" Brennan asked as they pulled up outside a strange restaurant.

"I thought we'd try something new." Booth reasoned. "We always eat at that diner. It felt like time for a change."

"But you love the diner!"

"I know, Bones."

"But I don't-."

"Look, I have some things to talk to you about. It's just not...diner talk, okay?" Booth guided her towards the door.

"I can talk just fine at the diner." Brennan mumbled under her breath.

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"Say it, Bones. Come on." Booth grinned at the look on her face. "Just admit it. That's the first step."

"Fine! You win. This place is fine."

"Thank you, Bones." He took a large bite of his pasta.

"Now what do you have to say that can't be said in a diner, mystery man?"

"Can't we wait until we're done eating to discuss this?"

"You dragged me here and made me eat. Now talk." She smirked at him, and he just looked back, mentally preparing himself for the things he was about to say.

"You know Cam?"

"My boss?"

"Yeah, her." Booth began, brilliantly. "Well, we've kind of been seeing each other..."

"Skip the intro, Booth. I'm beginning to wish I'd gone with Angela."

"We're getting married."

"What?" Brennan asked, shocked. "Oh, I get it. This is one of your jokes. That's a good one Booth. You almost had me for a minute there." She started laughing. "You seemed so serious!"

"Bones-."

"You're serious."

"Yeah."

"You're actually getting married."

"Yeah."

"To Cam."

"Once again, yes." He looked at her again, trying to read her reaction, but her face was inscrutable. She stood up quickly.

"Congratulations, Booth." She whispered. Then she was gone.