As I begin this story I want to make it clear I don't understand the 'why' behind this. It just happened to me and I'm telling it to you. So bare with me.

Anyway, I Hate the sound of an alarm clock buzzer. Hate with a capital 'H'. It's like nails on a chalkboard to me. So naturally that's the way the worst day of my life started. I mean if you're going to humiliate me beyond belief, crush my dreams, and drag my good name through the mud; I beg of you do not start it off with that hideous noise! I mean that is just so cliché-ish.

*Beep, beep, beep*

See? Isn't it awful? Well that's how the day started. Then I burned my precious Egg-o waffles, the one luxury I allow myself on my ramen-noodles-every-night-budget. How do you burn frozen waffles? Catch the toaster on fire.

Yeah. The smoke alarm (another awful sound) went off meaning everyone had to go stand in the rain for an hour while the New York Fire Department investigated the building. During which some pretty vile comments were made in my direction. When they finally said it was safe, we all went back in. I was trying not to cry. I mean, everyone in my building hated me. But they went in to enjoy Thanksgiving Dinner- Oh. I forgot to mention that didn't I? The worst day of my life happened on Thanksgiving Day. You know, the day when people gather together with loved ones and remember all the blessings they've been given.

Before I could walk in, the street clock dinged and I realized I was late for work. So in the jeans I managed to pull on and my coat and scarf I ran for the subway. My hair was unbrushed and I was a complete mess. No make-up either.

Why was I working on Thanksgiving? Because I clean for this fancy company near Time square and they needed the office clean so they could decorate for Christmas. Of course they wanted it done on a day when they were not open. I tried to fight the parade crowd, but it was nearly impossible. I ended up going around in circles and arrived at the Uchiha complexes two hours later.

Boring details aside, I got to work quickly. The lobby was the main concern and I tackled that first. Waxing floors is hard, dangerous work and I stashed my coat away for safekeeping: which meant that I was cleaning in my pajama shirt. Not the most wonderful feeling in the world.

I was cleaning the glass walls of my last office (really, why glass?) Windex in hand, when the door burst open. It was a moment of horror. I mean no one was supposed to be here, and I was in my old Tinker-bell shirt which was a little low for company.

"New York police! Put your hands in the air!"

I did, accidentally squeezing the trigger of the cleaner bottle.

There was muted cursing and I looked over at the source. I dropped my Windex bottle. That was- that was the son of the company's owner. Did I mention he was handsome? Single? Just generally beautiful (I know you're not supposed to use that word for guys, but it was true, okay.)? Wasn't he like a step down from VP or something? And I had just sprayed him with window cleaner; in the face. By the way he was mumbling I had hit his eyes. Now another person hated me. Or I assumed that was what the death glares were about.

In a movie or a story this would be funny, but in real life it was awful, and I felt awful. Really. I started laughing anyway. I couldn't help it. This had to be some kind of bad dream. Stuff like this didn't really happen in real life, did it?

In my shock I didn't hear what they charged me with, probably suspicious behavior or something if I had to guess.

The next thing I knew, they were taking my thumb prints. I believe I asked Mr. Beautiful (I didn't know his first name) what was going on, yelled that I didn't do it, and begged him to help me as they dragged me out. But they threw me in a cell anyway and slammed the steel door shut. I knew he wouldn't help me. Why should he?

I was alone in prison on Thanksgiving Day and I didn't know why.

I'm ashamed to say I cried. I'd been able to forget my problems while I was cleaning, but now I couldn't. My life was not supposed to turn out like this. Why? Why me?

There was no sense of time. I could have tried to keep track, but it wouldn't have mattered. Just then I didn't care anyway. But a female officer finally came and opened my cell. I kept crying and she smiled at me sadly. "Mr. Uchiha has cleared things up for you. I'm afraid that since the Judge is on vacation today we can only release you into his custody, but I suppose that won't be a problem."

I wasn't listening. I was free. It was the most wonderful feeling in my nineteen years.

'But why?' asked the voice of reason. He's never seen you before in his life, and let's face it; you're just the cleaning lady.

I ignored it. Right now I was free and that was all that mattered. They had made the mistake. Not me.

The officer led me out to the front room where my benefactor stood looking bored, annoyed, and angelic. (Is it even possible to look annoyed and angelic at the same time? I guess he just defies logic.:)) He held out my coat and scarf which I had been unable to get on my way out of his building, and I slid into them gratefully. He then shoved a hat on my head. I realized my hair must look insane. I hadn't even gotten a chance to brush it, and on a good day my naturally pink, frizzy hair had a tendency to go horizontal. I tucked my rebellious mop into the barrowed garment embarrassedly. The last sobs of my cry were trying to force their way out, but I managed to force them back.

"We're sorry about the mix up, Miss Haruno. It's just pink is an unusual hair color," The Sheriff apologized.

I nodded. "Believe me, I know."

"We really are sorry about the trauma this must have caused you," he studied my face. I gently reached up and touched the tear stains on my cheeks. "But we wish you happiness in your engagement."

I froze for the second time that day. My what? But before I could process what he meant or even ask any questions, Mr. Beautiful had towed me outside and forced me into a limo. Not like it was that hard, but he didn't give me any choice.

He was most likely taking me back to finish cleaning the cubicle so that he could yell at me for spraying him with Windex and fire me. It defeated the whole purpose of bailing me out of jail, but he was Uchiha, I didn't pretend to understand.

Since he was going to fire me anyway, I worked up the courage to ask, "What did he mean about my engagement? I'm not engaged. I don't even have a r-" I stopped as his eyes locked on mine. Perhaps he could do worse things than say: "How would I know?"

It was looking into his eyes that I realized 1) his eyes were truly black and not just dark brown, 2) he was gorgeous, 3) he could possibly read my mind, and 4) he could make me do anything by just looking at me.

Then he spoke. I had never heard his voice before and it was…perfect. The right blend of everything that made him who he was. "I am taking you to my home to 'meet' my family as my fiancé." In the blink of an eye he grabbed my left wrist and harshly forced something on my ring finger. "From now on you are my pretend fiancé, this arrangement will only last until after Christmas. Then I never want to see you again." His tone was final.

a/n: I got this idea and I couldn't sleep without writing it, so here it is. This is not my usual writing style, so sorry if it's a bit ruff. So tell me is it worth writing? Comments and suggestions welcome.