It was official- Nell Jones was in hell. On a scale of bad life events, this ranked somewhere between the death of her dog when she was 12, and earning her only B in college. And the worst part was that this was a hell of her own making. Or at least partially her own.

She had been on bad dates before, but really, who hadn't? Even Kensi had some real winners on her résumé, but this guy definitely took the biggest loser prize. He even topped Dan, the guy Nell and her college roommates nicknamed "the Q-tip", because his kissing abilities were the oral equivalent of swabbing one's ears. Yes, she was in hell, alright.

The worst part was that not only was she trapped in her own personal nightmare, but now, there were witnesses. Adding insult to injury, Sam and Callen had not only seen Nell and her epic date fail, but had called her out on it, and forced her to admit she needed help escaping the idiot. Ironic, since not only was Callen providing the solution, but he was, unwittingly, a large part of the problem.

Although it made Nell a bit angry to admit it, it was her schoolgirl crush on the Senior Agent that kept her from having a successful relationship. G. Callen set the standard by which all of Nell's potential boyfriends were judged, and an impossibly high standard it was. After all, there weren't many guys out there who were handsome, mysterious, fearless, intelligent and sexy, all in one package. And unfortunately, the one she was currently sitting next to was none of the above. (Okay, he was handsome, she'd give him that.)

She hadn't had high hopes about this date from the outset, but the minute he ordered a $100 bottle of wine, she knew it was doomed. In retrospect, though, Nell figured she shouldn't really complain about that. The wine was probably the highlight of her evening. If he had ordered imported beer, she would've been out of there in 2 nanoseconds.

She had been on her second glass when he began to talk. And talk. And talk. About himself, mostly- his school (Stanford-strike one with Nell, a Yalie through and through), his grades (blahblahblah), his fraternity (Animal House, anyone?), and his current entrepreneurial ventures (yawn). He ordered for her without even inquiring about her likes and dislikes. Then, his phone rang, and after that, it was as if Nell had never existed.

So, she poured herself a third glass of wine and waited. And waited. And waited. Frustration finally reached its peak, and Nell decided enough was enough. When she tried to leave (under the auspices of going to the powder room, then ditching him), her date had the good sense to look embarrassed, and Nell felt her first inkling of hope about the night. Then, he returned to his conversation with a business associate.

But the most wonderful/horrible thing happened- Nell's phone dinged, indicating she had a text. Of course, Nell, being well-mannered, was going to ignore it, but when it appeared that her new friend was lost in his own world, she opened and read the message. From G. Callen. Who (oh crap!) was apparently in the restaurant, watching the whole thing.

The young analyst blushed crimson when she found the two agents in the corner. She knew there would be a lot of explaining to do, and probably a lot of merciless teasing in her future. Especially if Deeks or Eric ever found out. But aside from just walking out on him, (she would never be able to shake the guilt, or her mother's voice in her head berating her over it), she really had no other recourse for escape. After a few seconds of contemplation, she decided to swallow her pride, and let the brains and the brawn make themselves useful. So, she quickly responded to Callen's text, finished the rest of her wine, and sat back to wait for the fireworks to begin.