A/N: So we've never really been told how or even when Tim and Delilah met. This is my take on their first meeting(s) from Delilah's point of view as she meets our Elf Lord for the first time. Just a short two-shot story showing how our lovable geeks met and bonded over science.

For context, I did some extrapolation backwards to get a rough time frame of when they may have met. She was first mentioned in 10x24 Damned If You Do, when Tim mentioned that he had a source in the DoD that got them information on Parsons while he was investigating their team. I figured that they had probably known each other for a little while since Delilah doesn't seem like the type to slip information to a guy she just met just to impress him. She didn't tell Tim she was back in DC during Status Update and they were a far more established couple then. With that in mind, this story is set between rescuing Ducky and Jimmy in Detour and before they arrested the kidnapper at Palmer's gym locker the next day.

"It's just a drink," Liz said as she leaned against the door frame.

"It's a blind date," she said sourly as she adjusted her top without making any improvements, at least in her mind. Growling in frustration, she removed it and threw the offending garment onto her bed in heap along with several other rejected articles of clothing. She went back to her closet for another option, scanning over the rows of shirts, mentally eliminating options as she went.

"There was nothing wrong with that shirt!" Liz said in frustration. "Or the last five before it."

She found a grey top and pulled it on. A vee neckline that wasn't too plunging but also wasn't too conservative. Feminine but didn't scream easy. Comfortable so she wouldn't be thinking about her clothes.

She went back to the mirror and nodded, finally satisfied. She ran her hands through her hair again, putting it back into place.

"I've never liked blind dates," she muttered as she looked at her roommate.

"No one does," Liz replied. "But you need to get back on the horse." She turned and glared at Liz. "Ok not literally," Liz said hastily. "No one is expecting you to go home with this guy. Just go out, have a drink, talk and take that first step to get past Samson."

"And I don't like that you call him that," she muttered.

"Oh, come on," she said. "It's funny."

She bit her tongue. She wasn't in the mood to argue the point with her roommate. It was bad enough that she had really liked him. At least until she found out he was selling drugs on the black market. It didn't matter that it wasn't party drugs. Somehow, the fact that he sold things like steroids seemed to make it worse. It was more palatable than if he was selling cocaine but it was still illegal.

Was it too much to ask to find a nice guy who was smart, funny, and not a criminal?

Liz sighed. "Look, the worst-case scenario is that you have a drink and come home. The alternative is to spend your Friday night here in your pajamas watching mind-numbing television on Netflix."

She bit back a retort. That was exactly what Liz planned to do. Then again, that was because her boyfriend was out of town for the weekend.

She sighed.

"Who is he again?" she asked.

"Alexander Brady," Liz said with a smile. "Or Brady Alexander?" she asked, suddenly uncertain.

"You know, it'd be really good to know which one it is," she said. "It does not make a good first impression if you call the guy by the wrong name."

Liz pulled out her phone and looked at it. "Brady Alexander," Liz said. "He's an engineer. He works for the Army Corps of Engineers. He's a civilian but he served in the Army for eight years."

Liz held out her phone to show her a picture. He wasn't bad looking. Black hair with a military haircut. Seemed to be in good shape still. Square jaw, high cheekbones, clean shaven. A little stoic for a candid shot though.

"He's cute," Liz said as she looked at the picture.

"Then you go on the date with him," she retorted as she made her way to the front door.

"Delilah," Liz said in exasperation.

"Elisabeth," she responded in kind. Liz stared at her until she relented. "Fine," she said as she grabbed her coat and purse.

"I'll call you in an hour in case you want an escape hatch," Liz said.

"Thank you," she said as she left their apartment. She called an Uber and took it to the agreed upon restaurant that was about halfway between their respective apartments.

It looked to be a local hangout and had a nice mix of families and younger people. There was a largish restaurant in the main room and a smaller bar in an adjacent room. It was clean, filled with friendly chatter and had a few televisions showing a hockey game although most people weren't paying attention to it.

She stepped into the bar and took a seat three from the end where she had a good view of the entrance but wasn't in the way. Only about half of the stools were occupied and those were mostly at the far end of the bar.

"Hi," a female bartender said. "Can I get you something?"

"Oh, no," she said. "I'm just waiting for someone."

The bartender eyed her. "Blind date?" she asked.

Startled, she asked, "How'd you know?"

"I've seen that look before," the woman replied. The bartender began to prepare a glass but before she could object, she realized the woman hadn't added any alcohol. "Cranberry and tonic with a twist of lime," the bartender said as she handed it to her. "Best way to look like you're having a drink without having a drink."

"Thanks," she said gratefully. The last thing she wanted was to get drunk on a blind date.

"If you have any trouble with this guy, ask for Angela," the bartender said.

"Is that your name?" she asked.

"No," the bartender said. "Trisha." She must have looked confused because Trisha leaned on the bar and said softly, "There's a sign in the bathroom that explains it. It's our code word for ladies who are worried about their blind dates. Ask for Angela and we'll make sure you get out of here safely."

"Thanks," she said. "My roommate is going to call too."

Trisha laughed as she left to see to the party down at the other end of the bar.

She sipped the drink as she waited. The bar was slowly filling up until there were only two open seats to her left.

Suddenly a man took the seat at the far end of the bar, leaving the stool next to her as the only open seat.

She frowned as her phone rang. Liz's photo appeared.

She looked at the time. He was twenty minutes late.

"Well?" Liz asked.

"He's not here yet," she said. "Which I should probably take as a sign..."

"Give him a little more time," Liz implored. "Maybe traffic is bad."

"Fine," she said.

The bartender refilled her glass with the non-alcoholic cocktail before she went down to see to the man at the end of the bar.

"What can I get you?" Trisha asked.

She glanced at the man. He was tall, had a stocky build and looked tired. He was wearing a dress shirt and a sport coat over a pair of jeans and work boots. Looking at her drink, she tried to figure out what he did for a living based on that weird collection of clothing.

"Actually, I'm going to order food," the man said. Trisha reached for a menu but he waved her off. "Just a cheeseburger and fries."

"Anything to drink?"

He hesitated. "Just water, I have to be up early tomorrow."

"You look like you could use a drink," Trisha said wryly.

"Yeah," he replied as he ran his hand through his hair. "It's been a long day. But like I said, I have to be up early tomorrow. Just the burger."

"Coming right up," Trisha said.

She returned her focus to her non-drink drink as he looked up at the television. But unlike the rest of the bar, he didn't seem to have any interest in the hockey game. Not that she thought that the bar was interested in the game but the overtime shootout was beginning to draw attention.

She cast a glance at him again as she tried to figure out if he was her blind date. She could picture an engineer wearing an outfit like that. But even in the dim light of the bar, she could tell that his hair was lighter than the photo Liz had showed her.

"Here you go," Trisha said as she returned with a plate of food. He looked towards her as he collected a bottle of ketchup for his fries.

Nope, not her date. Not bad looking but he wasn't the man she was waiting for.

She glanced at her watch again. Her date was thirty minutes late. She'd give him a few more minutes.

She reached into her purse and pulled out a pen. Grabbing a napkin, she started to work through the code she had been having trouble with earlier. If she was going to sit in a bar waiting for this Alexander Brady or Brady Alexander, she might as well be productive.

As she worked, she occasionally glanced at the man at the end of the bar. He ate and sporadically checked his phone but mostly he seemed intent on eating as quickly as possible. The plate was already empty. It was like he hadn't eaten in some time.

"You practically inhaled that burger," Trisha said as she took his cleared plate.

"I hadn't eaten since lunch," he replied as he handed her his credit card. "I was out in the field most of the day." Trisha nodded and turned away to process the payment.

"And you have to be up early tomorrow?" Trisha asked as she returned with the slips. "You have to work on a Saturday?"

"It could be worse," he replied. "At least I don't have the night shift too."

"True," Trisha said as she scrambled for a pen. "Hang on, let me find a pen. I'm always losing them."

"I have one," he said as he pulled a pen from his pocket and filled out the slip. "Thanks," he said as Trisha took it and hurried down to the other end of the bar where a group was calling for service.

He stood up and grabbed his winter coat from the bar stool. She focused on her work so she didn't stare at him as he walked by.

"Coding at a bar?" he asked.

Startled, she looked up. The man had stopped at her side and was looking down at her napkins. She had spread her code and notes over six different napkins.

"Yeah," she replied as she flushed slightly. Now that she got to see him head on, he was cuter than in profile. "Trying to solve a problem," she said.

"I see that," he said as he looked at her scribbling while glancing at her. "Trying to compare two databases and flag connections?"

"Yeah," she said surprised. "You figured that out from these scraps of code?"

"I've written something similar," he said with a shrug.

"Comparing two databases isn't that hard," she said hastily. "But it isn't easy trying to get the program to pick out the connections when they may not be intuitive even to a human user."

"Either you get no results or too many," he said.

"Yeah," she replied as she looked up at him. He smiled empathetically. "You know most guys would have made some comment about a girl knowing how to code that they meant to be flattering but was really just patronizing." He looked confused, as if he didn't understand why someone would equate her gender with her ability to code. She laughed as his eyebrows knit together. "And that didn't occur to you. That's nice."

The man looked at her and relaxed. He then smiled.

"I couldn't help overhearing that you had to get up early tomorrow," she said. His expression fell. She could tell that he thought she was trying to get rid of him. "But maybe you might stay a little while anyway?" She watched as he processed what she said, and his expression changed.

"You weren't waiting for someone?" he asked as he looked at the empty stool.

"I was," she replied. He looked confused so she shook her head quickly. "My roommate set me up on a blind date." She looked at her watch. "He was supposed to be here over an hour ago so I guess I have officially been stood up. As far as I'm concerned, it's all yours if you'd like."

"I'd love to," he said with a smile. "Can I get you another?" he asked as he motioned to her nearly empty drink.

"How about I buy you what I'm having?" she asked. He started to protest but she caught the Trisha's eye. "Two cranberry and tonics with a twist of lime." The man relaxed and nodded. "Delilah Fielding," she said as she held out her hand.

"Timothy McGee," he replied as he took a seat next to her.

"Are you a programmer?" she asked.

"It's more of a hobby but I occasionally get to incorporate it into my job," Tim replied.

She glanced as her notes. "It must be some hobby if you recognized the code that quickly."

"Oh, well," he said hastily. "I got a masters in computer forensics from MIT."

"MIT," she said. He nodded. "Johns Hopkins," she said.

He brightened. "I did an undergrad degree in biomedical engineering at Johns Hopkins," he said. "I loved it there."

"So, you went from biomedical engineering to computer forensics?" she asked. That didn't seem too intuitive of a transition.

"Actually, I went from Computer Engineering to Computer forensics to biomedical engineering," he said. "My first degree was also at MIT." He sipped his drink.

"Didn't know what you wanted to be when you grew up?" she asked wryly.

He laughed. "Seems that way, doesn't it?" he asked. "I was mostly just biding my time. I started at MIT at sixteen. I got the biomedical degree while I was working cyber security at a bank." He chuckled. "I hated every minute of it and I needed a distraction."

"You know, most people would take up a hobby instead of getting another degree," she said.

He shrugged. "I liked school though," he said. "It was one of the few places I felt like I fit in."

"I know what you mean," she said. "Not many girls in Wisconsin are more excited about coding than boys and the latest fashion." He looked at her sympathetically. "What about you. Where's home?"

"I think the better question is: where wasn't home," he replied as he sipped his drink. "I was a navy brat. We moved every two or three years. I've lived all over the world. San Diego, Norfolk, Japan, Italy, Australia. But I was born in Bethesda and I've lived here for more than ten years, so I guess I can officially say that Washington is home."

"Seeing all those places sounds exciting," she replied. She had traveled but not nearly that extensively. "But I guess it must have been tough moving so often."

He nodded. "In hindsight, it was a great experience," he said. "Not many kids get to travel the world like I did. But at the time, it was hard moving so much." He swirled his drink with his straw. "I think that's why I was so comfortable in school. It was one of the few constants I had."

"I wish some of the people in my school would have moved away," Delilah muttered. He looked at her with amusement. "Hazard of living in a small town. I went to school with the same people from kindergarten until I graduated."

"That doesn't sound so bad," he said. "Every time I made friends, either I would move, or they would move. I saw a lot of the same people, but I never had a consistent group of friends."

"I did but on the down side, it was the same drama year after year with the same cliques." She smiled wryly. "That was why I liked coding."

"No drama," he said.

"Yeah," she replied as their eyes met.

She blushed and looked away. It was silly; she felt like a tongue-tied teenager instead of a grown adult. She had never felt so flustered upon meeting a guy. She needed to get herself under control.

She looked at him out of the corner of her eye. He was blushing too and trying hard to conceal it behind his drink. She was surprised but pleased that he seemed just as flustered as she was.

Suddenly she spied her notes.

Well, they both liked coding.

"Any suggestions?"

"Huh?" he asked in confusion.

"About my code?" she asked as she motioned to her scattered notes. Tim smiled in relief and looked at her notes. After a moment, he reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a notepad and his pen. "You keep a notepad in your pocket?"

"Yeah, you never know when you might need to write code on the fly," he said with a little laugh.

"Hey, would you mind shifting down a seat?"

Jolting, they both looked at a group of people who were eying them and the empty stool to their left.

Suddenly a pair left a high top in the corner. She caught his eye and looked towards the table. He nodded and followed her. They sat down just as a waitress picked up the empty glasses.

"So, about your code," he said.

"Right," she said as she started describing her issues. They worked through some of the code but eventually the code was forgotten as they began to talk about other things, on topics ranging from the latest in online security to the real-life science inspired by Star Trek. He was easy to talk to and definitely easy on the eyes. He was smart and funny in a nerdy kind of way.

And there was something genuine about him too.

Suddenly she felt her phone vibrating in her purse.

"Sorry," she said as she hastily dug it out. She had just missed a call from Liz and had four other missed calls and six text messages. And it was almost one in the morning. "Oh geez," she said. "It's really late. My roommate is freaking out."

She hastily texted Liz that she was ok, and that she'd be home soon. She could practically feel the relief ooze out of her phone when Liz replied.

Tim pulled out his phone and his eyes widened in shock. He looked at his watch in disbelief.

"I'm so sorry," she said. "You had to get up early tomorrow. Well today…"

"Don't be sorry," he said as he looked at her. "Meeting you is worth a little lost sleep."

She looked at him and smiled. He wasn't trying to flirt even though that was the effect he had. He was being genuine when he meant his sleep deprivation was worth it.

She reached out and grabbed his notebook. She turned it to a fresh page and wrote down her number.

"I'd really like to see you again," she said as she slid it back to him. "I really enjoyed talking with you tonight. I've never been so happy to be stood up before."

"Whoever he was, it was his loss," Tim said as he smiled at the number. He turned the page and wrote down his number. He tore it from the book and handed it to her. "But I won't complain. I'm happy we met." She nodded, accepting the page. "Do you want me to call you a cab?"

"I can catch an Uber," she said as she pulled up the app. She put in her information and saw that a car wasn't far away. "I just need to settle my bill…"

"The bartender dropped it off," Tim said as he pulled out his wallet. "Let me pay..." But as she turned over the slip, she saw, 'Angela paid your tab.' Tim looked at her in confusion, but she looked at Trisha. She was smiling. "Do you know who Angela is?"

"A friend," she replied as she stood up. He looked confused but didn't press. He helped her to put on her coat before he pulled on his. "I take it you live close by?"

"Yeah," he replied as they walked to the front of the bar. "That's actually why I came here for dinner. I wanted something quick." He shrugged lightly. "But Ducky says: sometimes what we want and what we need are two very different things."

"You have a friend named Ducky?" she asked.

"Yeah," he replied. "It's a nickname."

"Let me guess, he's a really big fan of Sixteen Candles," she said.

"You know, I'm not sure," Tim replied thoughtfully. "His name is Donald Mallard." She looked at him incredulously. "What?" he asked.

"You are an interesting man, Timothy McGee," she said as her car pulled up. "I'm really glad we met."

"Me too," he said as he looked outside. "I guess that's your car." She nodded. Their eyes met, and she could see he didn't want to say goodbye either. It was as if he was afraid of breaking the spell of what turned out to be a magical night.

"Good night," she said as she stood on her toes and kissed his cheek. He blinked in surprise, but she had already bolted through the cold for the car. She greeted the driver through the window and got into the back seat. As the driver pulled away, she looked at Tim.

He was standing outside of the bar, oblivious to the cold air and smiling drunkenly even though they hadn't had a drop of liquor. She waved and smiled at him as the car pulled away.

With the late night and the cold weather, the streets were nearly deserted and they made good time towards her apartment.

Suddenly her phone chirped. Looking down, she saw a text from an unfamiliar number.

Opening her phone, she clicked on the message.

'Just wanted to make sure I didn't lose your number. Can't wait to talk again, Tim McGee.'

She took a moment and programmed his name into her phone. Then on a whim, she took a screenshot of the entry in her contacts list and texted it back to him.

'Made sure your number is in my phone, so I can respond right away,' she typed under the photo and hit send before she thought better of it.

She had just arrived home when she heard another chirp. But she let it wait while she tipped the driver and hurried into her apartment building.

Pausing just inside the entryway, she pulled out her phone and saw a text from Tim. Opening it, she saw a picture of her contact information saved just above a Donald 'Ducky' Mallard.

Laughing, she made her way up to her apartment where she found Liz sitting on the couch in her pajamas watching something on Netflix.

"Well that must have gone well," Liz said with a smile that said, 'I told you so.' "Do you know how late it is, young lady?"

She pulled off her coat and dropped her purse onto the side table.

"I do," she replied as Liz turned off the television. "But Alexander or Brady or whatever his name was, he never turned up."

"You were stood up?" Liz asked. She nodded as she toed off her shoes. "I wouldn't have predicted that." Liz turned to her. "What were you doing all this time then?"

"Talking," she said. "To a very handsome and very interesting guy I met at the bar."

Liz stared at her, utterly flabbergasted.

"You picked up a guy at the bar?" Liz asked finally.

"Actually, it was the other way around, maybe," she said. She thought about it. "It might have been mutual. Not that it matters. Apparently, I was fishing with the wrong bait."

"Delilah!" Liz said.

"I got bored waiting for Brad…"

"Brady."

"Whatever," she said. "I got bored waiting for him to turn up so I started working on some code on a napkin. Tim was a few seats down eating dinner and he not only knew what the code was from the few scraps I had written but he helped me work out some bugs."

She jolted.

"What?" Liz asked in alarm.

"All our work is in his notebook," she said suddenly. But then she grinned. Now she had a really good reason to contact him again.

"Good for you," Liz said as she turned off the television. "Now I'm going to bed. Worrying about you really took it out of me."

Getting up, she looked at her friend. "I'm sorry I worried you. But I really didn't see your messages. I was talking with Tim and not looking at my phone."

"No problem," Liz said. "I want to hear details in the morning!" she called in a singsong voice.

Smiling, she went to her room and sat down on her bed.

She had never been so happy to have been stood up in her life.