October3rd 2006...8 Months Later

Life was good, which had Greg worried. He'd just made his first court appearance on a case as a solo CSI and had the satisfaction of seeing the wife-beating worm given a nice long sentence upstate. He was a hop skip and tape lift away from a promotion to a CSI level II, which meant more cases where he was flying solo , maybe even the primary. And the new receptionist, who'd replaced Judy for her maternity leave, flushed a cherry red colour every time she saw him come through the front doors.

On a personal front, things were also going smoothly which made it all the more worrisome. Renee had accepted a counselling position with the LVPD a month before and moved in with Nick in his pretty little bungalow on West Desert Drive. It was a little frightening to think of his little sis as someone's romantic roomie, but Greg couldn't hate Nick too much for it, since the handsome Texan could barely keep the grin off his face every time he mentioned her name. Greg figured it was just a matter of time before the wedding bells were a-ringing.

Even his love life things were going better than they had in recent memory. He'd been seeing Nadine Barton for about eight months, and the paediatric nurse kept him on his toes. Keeping the relationship going with Nadine had not been as difficult as Greg might have thought. He'd been very nervous about how the wall of sexual intimacy would be breached, as the scars of the lab explosion covering a third of his torso had made more women than he cared to count gag with repulsion. But Nadine had simply said she liked him, and that they were simply part of him. Once that hurdle had been taken care of, they couldn't keep their hands off each other.

Outside the bedroom too, there'd been no denying that she was a perfect balance for him. She was just as much a music freak as he was, though her taste ran to the classic rock of the seventies. But while Greg often fumbled with his words in social situations, Nadine was smart as a whip and could often deliver a lethal backhanded compliment with a serene smile on her face. Contrarily, when Greg would bring up details about any kind of pop culture reference, Nadine often felt herself slipping out of the loop since she so very rarely watched the most recent movies or listened to the latest music. Greg liked to joke that it was because of his geeky science-bent charm and dazzling smile that she couldn't keep her hands off of him, the rest of his colleagues, Renee included, were quick to assume that because she worked with kids all day she could date someone with his personality since he was such a big kid himself.

Yes, things were going great, and it scared the hell out of Greg. Something was bound to happen to throw him right back into the stress he'd come to live with, almost anticipate. He could feel the tingle in the air as he stood shaving at Nadine's tiny bathroom sink, while the lady of the house was in the shower and singing a brutally off-key version of "Layla".

"What time is your shift done, babe?"

"I'll be home around eight, I think," Greg called back, tapping the razor against the porcelain. "I'm tapped out on field time this week, so I'll be confined to the lab and wrapping up paperwork."

"Sounds good."

Greg smiled as he patted his face dry with one of Nadine's signature orange towels, went back into the bedroom, pulled his pants out of the closet, absently staring at the mixture of their laundry on the floor as he pulled the cotton over his silk boxers. It felt less and less weird to think of her apartment as their home. He still kept his place for after work showers, especially the ones involving any kind of decomp, but he had his own drawers and rack space in her wardrobe, along with a spare toiletries kit, and a few other odd bits. Her favourite blanket to nap with, however, stayed at his place so that when she stayed over, there was something concrete of hers there too. Greg would never admit it since it would earn him endless teasing from the guys at the lab, but when he was at his apartment alone he'd sleep with that blanket too, because it was Nadine's.

The phone began to ring then, short shrill bursts that snapped Greg out of his reverie. A chill ran through Greg as he saw the 973 area code. 973, he thought, where in the hell is that? Still, he cleared his throat and picked up the phone.

"Hello?"

"Allo?" The voice was French, very matronly and shocked. "Je cherche Nadine Barton."

"Oh I'm sorry, I don't speak French."

Greg was met with a dial tone as he blinked, bewildered. Who would be calling Nadine that spoke French?

"Who was it?" Nadine asked, stepping out of the bathroom, her shower done, wearing her towel like a toga.

"Oh, ah, wrong number I think." He thought it would be wise to leave it at that, but some unknown force had him opening his mouth again. "Some woman speaking in French looking for you."

"Was she old sounding or young?"

"What difference does that make?" Greg replied as he followed her into the bedroom and pulled a shirt from his side of the closet. He loved having a side of the closet, it made for such nicer sleepovers at her house.

"Because then I'll know if it was my mother or sister who hung up on you."

Greg nodded as he fastened his last button on his shirt. He knew Nadine hailed from South America and that she was a dual citizen of both America and French Guyana, but he often forgot that English was not her mother tongue. Years of watching American television and reading of English literature had taught her well; the accent was practically invisible. It only surfaced when Nadine made mention of her family, and this was no exception. He slid his watch onto his wrist, turned back to see Nadine, now dressed in her jungle-print scrubs, tying up her honey blond hair into a bun.

"What was it she wanted, do you think?"

"Probably wants to just give me my monthly update on things in Cayenne, you know, your sister is married and making babies and has a great legal practice, and to remind me of the fact that I am unmarried and running around looking after other people's babies."

"She knows you have a boyfriend though, right?"

"Oh of course, but that doesn't matter. You aren't supposed to be having a boyfriend when you're an old maid like me."

"Nadine, you're not an old maid, you're not even thirty yet." Greg saw the light leave her eyes as she continued her venting. It confused him as to why her mother wouldn't be able to see her as the amazing and independent woman he saw, who didn't need antiquated ideas of femininity to define her. But before he could say so, Nadine was barreling on.

"Doesn't matter. My sister was married before she hit law school and was already a mother by the time she set up her firm. Now she's got a brood of four kids, a thriving practice, and my mom's got complete bragging rights. Anyways," she waved it off, "I'll call her back tonight, and see what she wants."

Greg crossed to her, kissed her deeply. "Don't let her get to you."

"I know, but she's my mom."

"Trust me, I know the feeling." He kissed her again, this time dipping his tongue over hers as she grabbed his butt.

"How do you feel about Italian and sex for dinner tonight?"

"Well, I do like Italian," he teased, earning a quick tap on the bottom. He nipped at her lower lip once again. "Sounds like a little slice of heaven."