A/N: All of Marie-Fantine's lines are in 'French', as are Nadine's when she's speaking to her mother.

"I am happy to meet you. Would you like to buy some fish?" Greg mumbled in French to no one in particular in the break room. It was a slow night – apparently the animals of Las Vegas were content to stay in their cages tonight – and he'd taken the time to relax on the couch while listening to the audio recording of French for Dummies on his iPod. As much as he wanted to indulge, he resisted the siren song of his coffee stash. Caffeine right now would only make his already tense stomach turn into a perma-pretzel. Instead he continued to follow along with the pronunciation exercises, closed his eyes hoping to build his concentration.

"I will buy four pounds of salmon. Do you have any white wine?"

"What are you doing, son?"

Greg opened a wary eye; saw Nick standing by his feet. "Practicing."

"For what, interviewing Pepe le Pew?" Nick chuckled. He wandered over to the fridge, hoping that his roast beef sandwich Renee had so lovingly packed for him hadn't fallen victim to one of Grissom's experiments. After giving it the green light, he sat down at the table, prepared to dig in and grill Greg like his sister's onions. "Seriously."

"Seriously, Nadine's mother has decided ruin Nadine's vacation time by coming to town for two weeks."

"I thought you and Nadine were going to her Cabin of Love on the lake." Nick chewed thoughtfully, swallowed. "Can't you just tell her mom you've already made plans?"

"She's flying in from French Guyana in three days. I thought if I learned to speak a little, Marie-Fantine might warm up a little to the idea that her old-maid of a daughter has a decent boyfriend."

Nick arched an eyebrow. "I'm not sure if you noticed, but Nadine is about as far away from old maid as it is possible to get. That's like calling a Maserati a junk-heap."

"Right. How is my sister by the way?"

"Come on, Gregg-o, you know I love Renee," Nick replied jovially and only slightly annoyed his friend would think he'd consider looking anywhere else. "Just because I'm driving a Porsche doesn't mean I can't appreciate a Beamer."

"Oh please don't refer to my little sister as something you're driving," Greg winced, "it's just wrong on so many different levels."

"Whatever. Did you make your coffee?"

"Don't want any. My nerves are shot as it is trying to keep Nadine on an even keel."

"You really think it's going to be that bad?"

Greg went to the fridge, pulled out a bottle of grapefruit juice. "Apparently, because Nadine isn't married with a brood of children and a full time career or some such nonsense, she's a bad person and an even worse woman since her sister has all three."

"Ouch."

"And I don't speak the language, so I won't be able to do jack-all to defend her."

"Double ouch." Nick swallowed his last mouthful of sandwich, tossed the plastic wrap in the bin. "Well, I'm sure those lessons on your 'Pod should help you sell her some fish."

"You speak French?"

"Renee's teaching me."

"Well that figures." Greg resumed his spot on the couch, hit the play button. "Wait, you already speak Spanish. What made you want to learn a different language?"

Nick blushed as he sized Greg up. "Take my advice, you don't want to know."

Three days had never gone so quick in Greg's life. It was scary enough, the idea of meeting Nadine's mother. He'd never met a girlfriend's parents before in his life, not even in high school; now the first shot out of the gate, the woman didn't even speak English. But Greg knew whatever was going through his mind wasn't even close to what Nadine was feeling. Every day she was eating less and less, and was restless at night, so much so that Greg was tempted to slip her a Valium in her tea. Already Nadine's mother was getting on his nerves and he hadn't even met her yet.

At the moment, he was standing with Nadine as they waited at the gate. When he heard Passengers from Flight Thirty-three-seventeen Cayenne to Las Vegas please claim your luggage, Greg could immediately sense Nadine tense up. He grabbed her hand, squeezed it tightly; the fingers were stiff and cold as ice.

"Here we go," she murmured.

"Just remember to breathe and if she starts to get on your case, picture her as a cartoon being strapped to an Acme rocket."

This made Nadine smile a little. But the moment was short lived as a slim, sturdy looking woman with the same honey-blond hair and swimming-pool eyes as Nadine approached them, tugging a stylish navy blue suitcase-on-wheels behind her. She wore a pair of creamy chino pants and a raspberry blouse that probably cost more than Greg made in a month, and the shoes on her feet were surely pure leather. When she stopped in front of them, the smile on her face was fake as Catherine's collagen lips.

"Nadine, my sweet little girl," Marie-Fantine crooned, "How wonderful to see you."

"I'm so happy to see you too, Mama," Nadine replied, hugging her mother tightly, and automatically taking her suitcase. "How was your flight?"

"Terrible as usual. What can you expect from an American airline though? Now, did you bring your car Nadine, or will we flag a shuttle?"

"Actually, we brought Greg's truck." She stopped, brushed her hand over Greg's arm, a signal for him to stop so she could make the introductions as best as possible. "Mama this is my boyfriend, Greg Sanders."

Greg knew this was his cue to hold out his hand to Marie-Fantine. "Nice to meet you," he said, keeping what he hoped was a calm smile on his face.

Marie-Fantine kept the goldfish-looking smile on her face as she tipped down her sunglasses and sized Greg up. "He's handsome enough, I guess, though your taste always ran to the odd. But what can you expect from a science geek? Now, let's get going, I want to be settled in by the lake by nightfall."

With that, Marie-Fantine swept past both of them, leaving Nadine looking like she wanted to throw up. Greg instantly went to her, kissed her reassuringly.

"See? It's going okay so far, right?"

"She called me a science nerd with no taste. I suppose that's an improvement from a geek with no man-fetching qualities."

"Just try to relax."

"Come along, Nadine, stop dawdling!" Marie Fantine called over her shoulder. Nadine took Greg's advice and immediately pictured her strapped to Wile E. Coyote's infamous Acme rocket.

Greg didn't have to speak the same language to notice the condescension in the tone. He simply couldn't believe that a mother could be so hostile towards their daughter. His own mother Sonya was Renee's biggest fan, aside from Nick, and talked to anyone and everyone who'd listen about her daughter's accolades. Greg bore no ill will towards Renee for it, since she deserved every ounce of what was said, just as he knew his father gushed about his son solving crime through science and not the way of the gun. This kind of Attitude, italicized with a capital A, made Greg's mouth hang open just a little bit more in shock.

Then, as they were all piling into his Jeep, Greg got another shock when Marie-Fantine said something to Nadine which made her pomegranate red with fury and Nadine mumbled to Greg, "My mother doesn't want you staying in the same room as me at the mansion. She doesn't think it's proper."

"Proper?" Greg spluttered. "Nadine, I think we passed proper in her books the first time we had kissed."

"Honey, I know it's hard, but trust me, it'll be over soon."

"Okay. I'm going to drop you guys off and pick up my stuff from my apartment."

After the grueling two hour drive out and back to Chateau Barton, as Nadine called her Lake Mead mansion, Greg now understood a little better why Nadine was so wound up. If this was what he felt like after only a few hours with Marie-Fantine he could only guess what it was like growing up with her as a mother.

Cranking his wheel hard, Greg took a detour and soon found himself parking in front of a pretty little bungalow on West Desert Drive. When he rang the bell, he sent up a silent prayer that someone was home and they were alone; the last thing he needed was to interrupt playtime between Nick and Renee. That prayer was answered when Renee opened the door in jeans and a U-Miami sweatshirt, her now shoulder length red hair tied back in a messy ponytail. Her purple-framed reading glasses were perched on her nose, behind which her blue-green eyes were clouded with confusion.

"Greg, aren't you supposed to be at Nadine's chateau having lots of cold beer and hot sex?"

"There's been a change in plans. Can I come in?"