Disclaimer: It's not mine, I just enjoy messing with their lives.

A/N: Hello everyone, my name is Maitlyn. This is my first CSI fic, and basically this story came about because of a little plot bunny that didn't want to leave me alone. I know, the whole idea is completely unreal and would never happen, and that Greg and Sara probably aren't in character, but I'm trying my best, so any tips would be appreciated. Also I know that neither of them would probably act like this, but hey, that's why this is called fan-fiction! Any feedback would be greatly appreciated, and I hope you enjoy. It's a Greg/Sara pairing. P.S. Mora is Norwegian for Mother

A Marriage of Convenience?

Chapter One

The phone was ringing. Rather loudly in his opinion, but that could have something to do with the fact that it was ten in the morning, and he had only just fallen into bed after a tiring shift at work. Lifting his head up, he narrowed his eyes in a glare at the phone, hoping that it would be silenced. As luck would have it though, it kept ringing, leaving him no choice but to answer it.

"Yeah," he mumbled sleepily.

"Gregers Hojem Sanders! I know that wasn't you who just answered the phone because I know I taught my son better manners than that!"

"Hello mora," he grimaced at the voice on the other end as he rolled over onto his back, preparing himself for a lecture, and yet hoping there wouldn't be one.

"Don't 'hello mora' me," Tekla Sanders scolded once again. "Now why haven't you called me back? I left half a dozen messages for you!"

"I'm sorry mother, but I've been working double shifts and catching some sleep in between. And can we talk later? I've just gotten off work, and I'm really tired mora."

"No, we can talk now," she continued, but her voice had lost its scolding tone. "I want to know when you're coming for Christmas. Thanksgiving is only two weeks away, and it's been what, seven or eight years since you've actually visited."

"I came for Kelly's graduation two years ago," Greg pointed out.

"Stop with the English names, they're horrible," she snapped, and Greg could almost see her wincing at the nickname his sister went by, not to mention she hated how he called himself Greg and not his true Norwegian name, Gregers. "Kjellfrid, not Kelly. And you stayed for dinner and then left! I hardly consider that a visit."

"Sorry mora, but you know the lab needs me. And I'm a CSI level one now, so I need the experience."

"And you'll get it, but not this Christmas," Tekla stated firmly. "We're having some friends over. You'll remember some of them."

"Who mora?" Greg tensed up, guessing what was coming.

"Else Matthews. You remember her from summer camp? She's a nurse now, lovely girl, working at the hospital right here is San Gabriel. I showed her a picture of you the other day when she came for some coffee, and she thinks you're hunky!"

"Mora…" he began, trying to cut her off before she could run through any more eligible women, but he wasn't quick enough.

"And Hanna Jacoby? You two grew up together back in Norway before we all moved here. She's working as a teacher! Nice, quiet girl, with a respectable job."

"Mora!" he said more firmly.

"She would make a good wife for you, or maybe Rita Zuelden? I know since James divorced her a few months ago she's looking for a new husb-" she was cut off by Greg.

"MORA!"

"What Gregers? If you wanted to say something, do it quietly. No need to raise your voice."

"Stop with the girls mora, I'm not looking for a girlfriend or wife, or anything of that nature," Greg said firmly.

"You're almost 30, you should be settled down with a good girl and given me a grandbaby by now," she argued. She paused a moment before speaking hesitantly. "You're not…gay…are you?"

"No mora!" Greg closed his eyes in irritation. "I am not gay. I love women and everything about them, I can assure you."

"Then why won't you even consider one of the girls I've mentioned!" Tekla demanded to know.

"Because, mora," Greg began, stalling as his brain raced for an explanation.

"Because why?"

"Because I'm getting married today, that's why," he spat out.

"MARRIED! To who! When did you start dating? When did you get engaged?" Tekla fired off several questions.

"We started dating about five months ago, got engaged a month ago, and we just want to have a quiet wedding here alone," Greg quickly made up.

"And?"

"And what mora?" Greg asked in confusion.

"Who is she? What's her name?"

"Sara Sidle," Greg blurted out the first name that came to mind.

"Is she one of those scientist people like you?"

"Yes mora, she's a CSI like me, but a level three," Greg kicked himself mentally for blurting out her name. Now what was he going to do?

"Humph," she said, the disapproval evident in her voice. "Well, then I'll expect both of you for Christmas. And bring the wedding certificate so I can add it to the family bible. Good bye Gregers."

"But-" Greg started to protest, but she had already hung up. "Damn."

Greg threw the phone across the room, feeling the slightest bit of satisfaction at the crash it made as it slammed into the wall. Rolling onto his stomach, he buried his face in his pillow, idly wondering how long it would take for him to suffocate. Then he wouldn't be in this mess. If only his mother didn't collect all marriage certificates, death certificates, birth certificates, and any other type of certificate imaginable to put into the family bible, he probably could have convinced Sara to just play along for a week. But no, he had to say they were married, and they were getting married tonight. He should've just said he was dating her instead. Stupid brain! Why did he have to say married!

Looking over at the clock, he set the alarm for six o'clock. That would give him a few hours of much needed sleep, and then plenty of time to get ready. He had a few stops to make before work; the florist, the candy shop, the jewelers, and Sara Sidle's apartment. If he was going to convince her to marry him, and stay married for over six weeks, he needed some serious bribes, and a lot of luck.

OooOooOooO – Meanwhile across town – OooOooOooO

"Hello?" Sara Sidle answered the phone, absently stroking Belladonna's back.

Belladonna was a two year old tabby cat, and was very spoiled by Sara. Sara hadn't planned on getting a cat, but when her brother came to stay with her for Christmas last year, he decided a cat would be good company for her, and make a good Christmas gift. So that was how she came to own Belladonna.

"Sara?"

"Hey Chris, what's up?" Sara perked up, hearing her brother on the other end.

"Uh, not much," he replied quickly, sounding nervous.

"Is something wrong?" Sara asked, now concerned.

"No. Well, yes, sort of," Chris said, sounding apologetic. "Well, you know how Aunt Linda and Uncle Bill are always after us to come for Thanksgiving and or Christmas?"

"Yeah," Sara said slowly, getting a feeling that she wasn't going to like where this was going. She was right.

"Well, I kind of told Aunt Linda we'd both be coming to the B and B for Thanksgiving this year," Chris steeled himself and continued on before she could yell at him. "And I said we'd be bringing our spouses with us too."

"Our what?" Sara's voice was low and dangerous, and at the moment, Chris was very glad that 3,000 miles separated them.

"Um, well, see, I uh, I told her that you're getting married soon. And no one was told because you wanted it to just be you and your fiancé, small and quiet," Chris braced himself.

"CHRISTOPHER JAMES SIDLE!" Sara screamed into the phone. "You mean to tell me that I am now engaged, and I'm getting married in a few days to a non-existent man, and I have to spend Thanksgiving with Linda, Bill, and the rest of those idiots!"

"Yes?" he said meekly.

"I am going to hang up now, and I don't want to hear from you again anytime soon. If I need to, I will call you," Sara said, breathing heavily. "Right now I am going to go take a shower, go to bed, and try to think of some way to get myself out of this mess."

"I love you sis, I'm sorry," Chris apologised.

"Yeah, well, if you were sorry, you wouldn't have done it now, would you?" Sara snapped, and then slammed the phone down.

Barely managing to keep from throwing everything within reach, she went into her bathroom, undressed, and turned the shower on as hot as she could stand before getting in. She let herself stand there probably close to an hour before she made herself get out. Drying off, she threw on a camisole and some baggy cotton pajama pants before climbing into bed to get some sleep.

OooOooOooOooOooOooOooOooOooOooO

Half past six p.m. found Greg dressed in clothes that were entirely unusual for him. He was wearing nice black pants, a dark olive green, button-up, short-sleeved collared shirt. He did however spike his hair up as usual. He was hoping his serious attire would first of all, impress Sara, and second of all, show that he really was serious and not just goofing around. Grabbing his car keys, he quickly hopped in his car and drove to Caesars, home of one of the most exclusive jewelry stores; Bvlgari. Known for their watches, they also sold some of the most exquisite jewelry in the states. Walking in, he felt extremely nervous, but a sales woman immediately came over to help him, putting him at ease.

"Good evening sir, and welcome to Bvlgari Diamonds," the woman named Carla smiled. "How may I help you?"

"Uh hi, and yes," he replied in answer to her question. "I need to buy an engagement ring and wedding bands please."

"Right this way sir," she led him towards the back of the store where the rings were located. "Now what did you have in mind for the engagement ring?"

"Something simple, not too flashy or big," he said immediately, knowing Sara would hate that. "My girlfriend does a lot of heavy work you could say, so I need something that won't get in the way."

"Well we have a lot of lovely rings with smaller stones in a basket setting, so they're more a part of the band, and don't jut out so much as some others," she suggested, pulling a tray out for him to look at.

"That one," Greg pointed to one. The ring was very classy and simple; just how he thought of Sara. The platinum ring had a small emerald cut diamond set in a basket setting, and was framed by two smaller emerald cut diamonds on either side.

"Excellent choice sir, now what size will you need it sized to?"

"Size six, even," he said, suddenly grateful for the day he had been stuck with Catherine and Sara at a crime scene, and all they had seemed to do was discuss ring sizes.

"You're in luck, this is already a six, so shall I go ahead and wrap it up for you while you look at the wedding bands here?"

"That'd be great, thanks," Greg smiled, glad that one thing was done.

Moving over a cabinet, he began to look at the wedding bands. He knew that anyone would call him crazy for buying a fairly expensive engagement ring, not to mention wedding bands, for a girl who probably wouldn't even say yes. And maybe he was crazy. Truth be told, he was crazy about Sara. He had asked her out once, jokingly, and she had said no. That had made him like her even more. Not to mention he thought she was gorgeous, intelligent, and one of the most dedicated people he knew. In his mind, she deserved the best, even if the marriage would be a sham. Also, she might have a harder time turning him down if he did all this, not to mention, if she didn't agree, then he could just save the rings for when he did get married someday.

"Here you are sir," Carla was back, with a dark burgundy box, tied with a light purple ribbon.

"Thanks. May I see those wedding bands, please?" He pointed to the ones he was interested.

"Here you are," she pulled the rings out, setting them on a jewelers mat. "And look, this is also a six."

"And this fits me perfectly," he couldn't help but grin as the plain platinum band slid on his ring finger perfectly. Maybe this was a sign that things would work out. "I'll take these also please."

"Let me go package these up, and Marie over there will ring you up," she smiled, pointing him in the direction of an elderly woman across the store.

"Since you're buying three rings, all in platinum, we gave you a discount," Marie smiled, ringing up his purchases. "Your total comes to 3,274 dollars and 83 cents."

"I'll pay with Visa please," he handed her his card as Carla brought over another perfectly wrapped burgundy box with light purple bow.

"Thank you sir, and good luck!" the two women wished him well as he left.

Next he went to the florist and picked up a bouquet of two dozen pink roses. After that, he went to a chocolate shop not too far from where he knew Sara's apartment was. Leaving several minutes later, he had a dozen raspberry filled, white chocolate truffles boxed up neatly. Climbing back in the car for what felt like the millionth time that day, he drove to Sara's apartment complex. He sat in the car for several minutes, looking at the building, breathing shakily as he gathered his nerves together. Grabbing everything, he climbed out of the car, and buzzed Sara's apartment.

"Hello?" Her voice came over the intercom.

"Sara, it's Greg, I really need to talk to you about something?"

"Hold on," she said, and a minute later, he heard the familiar buzz of the door being unlocked. Gathering his courage he took the stairs up and knocked on her door.

"Hey Sara, these are for you," Greg held out the flowers and chocolate as soon as she opened the door.

"Thanks Greg," Sara looked at him confused. "Come on in."

"Thanks," he smiled nervously as he entered her apartment and took a seat on the couch while she went to put the flowers in a vase.

"You're dressed up today, it looks nice."

"Thanks."

"So what'd you need to talk to me about?" Sara asked, pulling a sweatshirt on over top of her pajamas since she hadn't gotten dressed yet. "Although I'm letting you know right now I'm not in the best mood, so I may not be very sympathetic."

"Why?"

"My brother's an idiot," Sara said casually. "He told my Aunt and Uncle, who I really don't like, that we'd both be coming for Thanksgiving."

"Well what's so bad about that? I mean, aren't you supposed to spend holidays with family?"

"I guess, but he said we'd be coming with our spouses," Sara ran a hand through her hair in annoyance.

"Spouse, but you're not married."

"Thanks for the newsflash Captain Obvious."

"This is PERFECT!" Greg jumped up, and then pulled one box out of the bag he was holding and handed it to Sara. "Open it!"

"Why is the fact that I'm supposedly married and really not, and have to do something to get myself out of this mess perfect?" Sara stared at him as if he were crazy, not looking down as she took the velvet ring box out and opened it up.

"Sara, I'd be lying if I said I loved you romantically, although I do like you a lot," Greg smiled cheekily. "But will you marry me anyways?"

"Oh my lord" Sara gasped, finally looking down at the box she was holding, and the ring inside. "Why?"

"Because I have the exact same problem as you," he explained. "My mother called and ordered me to come for Christmas because she's having a party. Anyways, she was talking about all these girls who would be there, and pointing out all their good qualities. When I told her to stop it, she asked why, and my stupid mouth blurted out that I was getting married tonight. And when she asked to who, your name was the first that came to mind."

"Greg, this won't work," Sara started to protest, but he could tell it was only half-hearted as she began to see the merit in the plan.

"Why not?" He knelt in front of her. "We're already pretty good friends. And this way you'll be off the hook at your Aunt and Uncle's, and I wouldn't have lied to my mother."

"I-" Sara started, but Greg cut her off, taking her hands in his, eyes pleading with her.

"Sara, I know we're not in love, but I do care about you. This would only be for a few months, and then we can just get a divorce if you want," Greg took her hand and slid the ring on her finger. "And can't you just see how much everyone at work would freak out?"

"I know I'm going to regret this, but all right, I'll become Mrs. Gregory Sanders," Sara shook her head in disbelief.

"Actually, it's Mrs. Gregers Sanders," Greg corrected, pulling her up from her chair and into a hug. "It's a common mistake. My mother gave my sister and me nice traditional Norwegian names. I just use the anglicized nickname instead."

"Okay. Well, when do we want to do this then?"

"Well, I kind of told my mother we'd be getting married tonight. She's expecting the marriage certificate too at Christmas because she sticks all those types of things in our family bible, so I was thinking we could go as soon as you get ready. There's a little chapel not too far from the lab. And it's not a themed one or anything either, I promise!"

"All right," Sara conceded. "Make yourself comfortable while I shower and get ready. I suppose I should dress up a little, after all, it is my wedding day."

"Whatever you're most comfortable in," Greg laughed as she disappeared.

He sat there for the next forty minutes feeling as if he were in a dream. She had said yes. Sara Sidle, who wouldn't even go on a date with him, had actually agreed to get married…tonight! He couldn't believe it. Lady Luck was definitely smiling down upon him tonight. And Sara too it seemed, since she was kind of in the same predicament as he was. Funny how that happened, huh? Oh well, he didn't care.

"All right, it's eight thirty, so we'd better get going so we have plenty of time to get married and then get to work," Sara said coming back in.

"Wow, you look, stunning Sara!" Greg complimented. "Not that you don't usually I mean, but, you know."

"Thanks Greg," Sara smiled her quirky, gap-toothed smile at him.

She had decided to dress up tonight, after debating it for a while. Rummaging through her closet, she had chosen a pair of dress slacks, much like the ones Catherine was always wearing, instead of her usual pair of jeans. The cream colored slacks complimented the light blue lace spaghetti strap top she had on. Throwing on a matching cream colored suit jacket, she picked up her purse and followed Greg out the door to his car.

They drove for about ten minutes, pulling up outside of the Las Vegas Presbyterian Church. It was a small, plain looking, white church complete with steeple, and looked out of place between a toy store and liquor shop. Sara looked over at Greg curiously as he turned off the car.

"I come when I can," Greg said by way of explanation. "It helps remind me that there is good in the world, and that there is a purpose for what I do. Keeps me grounded."

"Maybe we can go together some time," Sara took his outstretched hand as they prepared to walk in, playing the happy couple. "I think seeing all the bad makes me forget the good."

"Pastor Fanning!" Greg greeted enthusiastically as the man came out of his office at the sound of the church door being opened.

"Hello Greg, how are you?" The older man greeted them with a smile.

"Pretty good. Made it through another week."

"And who is this lovely young woman by your side?" He extended his hand to Sara and shook it.

"This is Sara Sidle, my fiancé and co-worker," he held out Sara's hand, showing the ring. "Actually, that's why we're here. We want to get married today."

"Congratulations! It always makes me feel blessed to be able to join two loving children of God in holy matrimony," he turned around and began assembling the necessary paperwork.

"All right, I think that's everything," Greg said a few minutes later after he and Sara had finished filling out the marriage license paperwork.

"Let me just go get Lillian, and then we can begin," Pastor Fanning stood up. "Why don't you go ahead into the sanctuary and reflect upon your lives thus far, and the life you are about to embark upon."

"Thank you sir," Greg nodded as he showed Sara into the small sanctuary.

"Who's Lillian?" Sara questioned as they sat down in the first pew.

"His wife. There has to be a witness present," Greg explained. "Are you ready for this?"

"Honestly, probably not," Sara gave a nervous laugh, looking at the ring on her hand which was still clasped with Greg's much larger one. She hadn't realised how big they were compared to hers. "But, I do think it needs to be done. I just never really saw myself marrying you of all people, no offense."

"Grissom?"

"No," she said firmly, surprising Greg. "I always admired him, and yeah, I entertained the idea of us having a relationship. But I've realised that it wouldn't work, especially considering the fact that he's my supervisor at work. There's also the fact that we're just too much alike in some ways, that it'd be a mess."

"Sara," Greg said seriously after a moment. "I know you said yes and agreed and all to this, but you don't have to. I mean, I can always just tell my mother that I got cold feet at the last minute and we broke it off or something. Then we also wouldn't have to worry about what we tell the lab."

"No, I think I want to do this, the whole getting married thing," Sara laughed. "And as for the lab, we just tell them we've been dating for a few months, got engaged, and then got married. And we kept it all quiet because we didn't want it to interfere with our performance at work. We all know that I'm obsessed with the job, so it's not like it's far from the truth. And if we just flirt more around each other, and do some minor public displays of affection-"

"PDA's, yes!" Greg pumped his fist in the air.

"Minor Gregers," Sara teased him. "Hand squeezes, kiss on the cheek, touching each other on the shoulder or back, things like that. As I was saying, if we do stuff like that, they'll believe us. I mean, you and I are so private about our love lives, that I think it'll be fairly easy for us to pull it off. We just have to break it to them."

"We can just ask them all if they'll help us move your stuff to my town house," Greg suggested. "I assume you're okay with moving in with me? Only because I have the bigger living quarters, and your apartment would be a little small for us."

"Yeah, I was going to suggest that," Sara nodded in agreement. "You know, maybe we should move my stuff ourselves, and just see how long it takes them to figure out that anything's going on. And not to offend you, but I don't know that I'll wear my ring on my finger to work. I'll probably wear it on a chain. Not because I'm ashamed, but because of all the stuff we get our hands into."

"I was just about to ask if you would be too offended if I wore mine on a chain," Greg laughed. "Great minds think alike, eh?"

"All right, are you ready?" Pastor Fanning came in, a short, petite woman following him. "This is my wife Lillian; she'll witness for you two, if that's all right?"

"Sure," Sara smiled. "Thank you."

"All right, then let's get married," Greg calmed his nerves and took his place beside Sara, waiting for Pastor Fanning to begin.

A/N: Okay, I know, I'm kind of evil! If you want to see them get married and what all happens, then review! No reviews means no next chapter. Actually, whether or not I get reviews, I'll probably keep posting simply because I don't leave stories unfinished, but reviews are always nice. Next chapter should be up in a week or so hopefully. I'm a college freshman, taking 21 credits, so I'm fairly busy. Also, if you feel the need, flame away, although constructive criticism is more greatly appreciated.