AN: Set in Season 8, inspired by the romantic comedy 'The Proposal', in which April is a Canadian about to be deported and seeks Jackson's help in order to keep her Visa status in the U.S. Then things change and they eventually realize the fake married life is not that easy when feelings are involved.

Inspired by a one shot requested by the lovely safooa.

Cover graphic made by Jodie.

…

I

"Can you believe it?" She enters the living room with a letter in hand, announcing her presence loudly. "I'm gonna be deported!"

"Can you take a step?" He moves his head, points to the TV with one hand, annoyed when she walks in front it, stops, blocks what he's watching.

Glancing over at the TV, April puts her hands on her hips, rolls her eyes. He's obviously not paying any attention to what she's saying. "Why are you watching Real Housewives of Atlanta?"

"I-" He feels like he just got caught in the act, like a teenager watching films he's not supposed to watch. His cheeks burn in shame, because these type of shows are usually his guilty pleasure, but he only puts them on when no one's watching. He shakes his head, tries to change the topic. "You're gonna be what?"

"Deported! Read it!" She says once more, sitting on the couch next him, making a 'ugh' sound, before carelessly throwing the neatly folded white piece of paper at him. "It's on the letter. There was something with my Visa and now I'm getting deported."

The letter came in first. Then there was a call and yes, the immigration attorney didn't have the best news when she picked up the phone that morning. Some paperwork she didn't fill out in time and now this. Deported. The news hit her like a hurricane, tearing down her world in less than five minutes.

It isn't even fair. She isn't a criminal, an illegal immigrant who walked across the South Boarder without permission, and not she has anything against them, 'cause she doesn't, but things are simply different when it came to her situation. She's a Canadian citizen, who came to America at the young age of 18 to study Medicine. Why this? Why now?

The attorney said there was nothing else she could do, but pack up and leave. How could she do it? Leave, when her life is here, her job, her friends, her new found home? She would have to leave, and try and reapply after one year away. But Canada? What could she possibly do in the little town she grew up in the North of Canada in the meantime?

Jackson reads the letter, then chuckles. "Not even America wants you." He jokes, resulting on her punching his ribs with her elbow. "Ouch!"

"It's not funny." She goes on. This is not the time to joke around. "I have my life here, my job, everything. The Boards are in less than fifteen days! I can't go back to Canada."

"So what you gonna do?"

"I don't know. I need to come up with a plan." April replies, throws her head back on the couch, looks up at the ceiling. "How to stay in America without my Visa?" She asks herself. Think. She has to think. There has got to be a way.

"Well, you could always get married."

She looks at him instantly. Maybe he's joking again. He definitely is, but the comment is rude, and she feels hurt. She needs help, not someone pointing out her flaws, the fact that she doesn't have anyone, not a boyfriend, that not a single soul has ever loved her yet. "Great. Thanks for the help." She said, snapping the letter of his hands, before fulminating him with her stare and quickly getting up.

"Wait, April?"

"No. Never mind."

…

The night is terrible, and scary, and not because there's an actual storm outside. There's a storm in her mind and her thoughts sound like thunders.

She can't sleep, or find a positon, or ease her mind. This whole situation is driving her insane.

It's 6 am anyways, and nope, sleep is definitely not going to happen now. So, she decides to do what she does best. Pulling away the covers, April walks towards the closet, puts a pair of jeans and a blue floral top on. Before she leaves the room, she grabs her computer.

She's an organized person. How could she let this happen and mess up her Visa?

Screwed. She's simply screwed!

Settling in the kitchen table, with a coffee mug by her side, she spends the rest of the early morning looking for information online, googling similar cases, trying to find another way, but surprisingly enough Jackson's right. Getting married would be the easiest option. But she doesn't have a boyfriend and she's pretty sure she will never have one, because people find her annoying and she has a difficult temper, or so they say.

So what now?

It's suddenly almost 8.30 am. Where did time go? She is going to meet with the immigrant attorney at 9 am. Maybe he can tell her something useful this time, but she doubts it.

She was never a lucky person, or felt special in any type of way. But this is unexpected and she had no freaking clue what the hell she's supposed to do with herself.

April takes another sip. Two cups of coffee later and the caffeine is finally kicking in. She thinks and thinks, but can't see things clearer.

Putting the mug down, she takes a deep breath, runs her mind again through the options, even though her options are pretty much none, especially when it comes to men.

Men, yes, she will need a man if she decides to go through with this. One single man will due. As if that's easy. It's not and she's probably going truly insane, because to go through with this stupid idea, she has to get married in less than a week, needs to find someone in less than 7 days.

Who in the world would be crazy enough to do this for her? With her? The chances are low and the risks are very high, because a fake wedding is still a crime. Then yes, she'dreally be a criminal and her clean criminal record would be forever damaged. She'd be known as the idiot red head from Canada who tried to pay a man to marry her only to get deported in the end.

Wait a minute. Pay? No, she could never pay someone to marry her. That would be gross, she'd feel disgusted with herself even if it was only in the papers, not a real marriage at all and she would never have any real wife duties. Still, nope. She wouldn't.

If she doesn't have a fiancé, a real boyfriend, and if she's not going to pay someone, then what's left? Who's left?

That's when he walks into the room, puts his gym bag on top of the kitchen table, in front of her, gives her a quick 'hi', before turning his attention to the fridge.

She watches as he opens the fridge, takes out the milk, then walks to the nearest cabinet, takes out a big spoon, and pours cereal into a cream bowl she bought some time ago when they moved in alone with Alex.

She looks at him, stares almost, taps her fingers on the kitchen wood table. An idea comes to her mind and she's sure she's crazy for thinking about it, but why not?

They're friends. And not like any kind of friends. They're best friends. She would do this for him. She totally would, because this is what friends are for – to help out one another in times of need.

Sure, he's handsome and getting married to her will definitely hurt his future relationships, his dating and love life. To fake a marriage takes more than to fake a wedding. Because a wedding lasts less than ten minutes. A marriage means commitment, a true and loyal relationship, and a real friendship, even between real couples. They have all of those things. Well, except for the part of actually being a couple, but that's a whole different story.

She ponders about it, watching as he lazily eats his cereal, standing with his back against the sink.

Oh gosh, this is embarrassing and she is sure he'll laugh at her. Can she do it? Ask won't hurt, right?

"Jackson-" She starts, but immediately stops when her voices cracks and she realizes her throat is dry.

He raises his eyes from the big bowl of cereal in his hands, with an innocent look. Surely, he has no clue of what she's thinking about and April can't help but to feel guilty for a second. What kind of person has these type of thoughts? What kind of selfish person would even consider getting her best friend involved in her mess?

"About what you said last night-" She clears her throat, feels a knot in her stomach, and closes her laptop gently with one hand, trying to gain time. "You are right."

"What do you mean?" Jackson asks, shoving another spoon in his mouth.

"I mean, I could always get married."

He chuckles with his mouth full, probably thinking she's not being serious. It's a pretty funny picture if you think about it. But it really isn't, because she's about to vomit the two cups of coffee she already had.

"It's the easiest solution and I wouldn't have to go back to Canada."

"And you want me to marry you?"

She gags with his question, surprised, but mostly panicking. He doesn't mean it. She knows he doesn't, because his tone is light and he's obviously kidding. And it's exactly because he doesn't mean it that she feels her cheeks turn bright red, her armpits start producing a crazy about of sweat and if there was a hole in the ground, she'd be face down, hiding in it.

It's when she doesn't reply right away that he gets it. Slowly taking off the spoon out of his mouth, he shakes his head at the same time. "No, no, no…"

"I'm only saying it, because-"

"I'm not gonna marry you!"

Just like that he shattered her to pieces. If only she had a cloth of invisibility, she could disappear from his sight and never come back again. "It would be a small favor."

"No."

"But why? I mean, it's not like it's for real."

"Can't you just order like an online groom, or something?" She'd laugh at his reply if this wasn't a serious issue. "Craigslist?"

"No, that would be illegal and so wrong!"

"Because me, marrying you isn't?" He's panicking, she can tell it by his tone. "This is illegal too, April." He goes on, freezing a hand in the air, one finger pointing at her, then back at him in a fast motion.

"But-"

"There's no way! Nope. No. What the hell are you thinking, April?"

This was a bad idea. Jackson's freaking out now and so is she. Covering her face with the palm of her hands, she lowers her head, shakes her thoughts. She feels desperate. Correction, she is desperate. "I can't go back to Canada. I can't. Oh God!" April pleads, too embarrassed to uncover the shame in her eyes. Why does she keep making a fool out of herself? Damn, April!

"I've got to go now." She retorts, getting up, never looking at him. It's getting late and she has a stupid meeting to attend. "I'm sorry I even asked."

"Where are you going?"

She tells him about the immigration attorney.

He stops, holds his breath and takes a moment to calm himself down. Then, Jackson nods. "I'll go with you."

"You are?"

"Yes." He says, grabbing his bag on the way out. "But no way we're getting married."

…

They're sitting in an ugly office, somewhere downstairs; a fluorescent lamp against the dark brownish walls makes the room look terribly creepy.

Jackson's sitting by her side, quiet, waiting for the attorney to get there. He feels sorry for her, because she doesn't deserve this. She's a good person, a good citizen, a nice girl who's only trying to follow her dreams of being a good doctor, a great surgeon.

There was no way he could marry her, though. It would be wrong and she deserves better. She deserves someone who loves her and not the way he does. Real love, true love. Not the kind of love he shares for her.

Marrying her never crossed his mind. Actually, dating her never crossed his mind. They're best friends and it would be too weird and he knows sometimes friends become closer and things happen, but no. Not with them. He couldn't. She's his virginal friend. She's April Kepner.

He then looks at her with the corner of his eye. She's holding her hands together, playing with her thumbs.

"April-"

He's interrupted when a short, thin man, dressed in a blue suit walks in, closes the door behind him and sits on the other side of the desk.

"Good-morning." She smiles, cleaning her sweaty palms to her jeans before shaking the man's hand.

Jackson plays the scene in his head before it even happens. She's about to hear a stranger dictate her future, and she's going to argue in the usual pitched tone she uses when she's nervous about something, but she will listen attentively, agree with the terms and realize there's nothing left to do.

"And this is-" She introduces him to the attorney when he reaches his hand towards Jackson.

Jackson feels a sudden and sharp feeling on his chest, his heart races, he freezes, wakes up in the moment, understands he can't let that happen, he can't let her go.

"Jackson Avery." He replies, cutting her off. "The fiancé."

April quickly moves her head, wide eyes staring at him in pure shock, confusion spread all over her expression. "The. Fi-an-cé." She repeats, dragging the words.

Jackson nods, shakes the man's hand and notices his suspicious look. There is a red flag and he can see something here is a bit sketchy, probably because she never mentioned a fiancé before, because he has experience when it comes to this kind of situation, because it's almost obvious this all a big fat lie.

"The fiancé?" The attorney asks, with a smirk, reclining in his chair, and opening her file.

She turns to Jackson, raises a brow, and mumbles a silent "What?"

He shrugs his shoulders without an answer. What is he supposed to say? The words came flying out of his mouth before he could control them. What is done is done and she just needs to play along.

"So, I have one question." The attorney speaks again, looking up from the pile of files almost burying him in his desk. "Are you committing fraud to avoid her deportation to Canada?"

They look at the man, then at each other, both bursting in a silly little nervous laughter that could easily give them away.

"What? No."

"That's ridiculous."

The attorney crinkles his nose, crosses his leg, and leans forwards, resting both hands on the desk, on top of each other, lifts his chin and twists his mouth, looking at them closely.

Oh crap! He's got them. Jackson can see it in his eyes, he figured them out and suddenly he feels completely naked in front of a crowd, exposed to his own short lived lie. He's got to fake it. Fake it 'til you make it, right?!

So, he quickly reaches for April's hand. Not moving his eyes from the man's gaze, he misses it at first, touching her thigh and squeezing it, making her jump on her seat. Crap, crap, crap! This is going from bad to worse. "We're engaged. It's recent." He says, finally getting it together.

"Mr Avery, I hope you understand that if you're committing fraud, Miss Kepner will be deported indefinitely and you, sir, will be convicted of a felony punishable with a 250.000 dollar fine and five years in prison."

"Five years in pri-" He can't even complete the sentence as the letters fall dry from his mouth. What did he get himself into?

"But since you're engaged to be married, I will now explain how the process will evolve." The man smiles. "Step one will be a scheduled interview. I will put you in a room and ask you every little question that a real couple would know about each other. Step two, I dig deeper. I talk to your neighbors, colleagues at work, look through your phone records, go through your trash if I need to. And if your answers don't match up-" He pauses, a bright disturbing smile appears on his lips. "You both know what happens."

They both stay in silence, letting the news sink in, realizing they're in too deep to back up now.

"So, Jackson, anything you'd like to say?"

He gulps, uncomfortably adjusts his position on the chair, crosses his left leg and rests it on his right knee, licks his lips. "N-no."

"No?" The man insists, winks, certain of their, his lie. "You're sure?"

"Truth is-" Jackson opens his mouth to speak, clears his throat, feels April's frightened stare on him. "April, my sweet pumpkin-" Pumpkin? Really?! He couldn't even come up with a good, believable pet name. "- and I, are getting married, because we're very much in love with each other."

"Is that so?"

"Something that feels this good can't be bad." She helps, comes to his rescue unexpectedly. "We're just two lovebirds."

"Two lovebirds!" Jackson confirms, tapping her hand, her legs, whatever he could find.

"Okay, then. We shall see how this goes." The attorney says, closing the file abruptly. "I want you both here on Friday, at 10.30 am sharp."

"We'll be here."

"Oh and huh-" He goes one, just as they were about to stand up to leave. "You better have your answers right… or else!"

…

"Thank you, thank you, thank you, Jackson!" Turning the corner and walking into the parking lot, she lets out a deep breath when they leave the building. A huge weight was lifted off her shoulders and she has no idea what crossed his mind, or why he did what he did, but thank God for him and his ideas. "I love you, you know that." Jumping on her feet, she raises both arms above her head, catches his neck and pulls him in into a very awkward hug, but he doesn't hold her back. "What's wrong?"

"Five years in prison?" Jackson is mad, she can tell. "Five freaking years in prison, April?" He nervously shakes his head, pulls her away, and raises his voice in panic. "This is fucking crazy! You're crazy."

"You were the one to say it!"

"And you're the one dragging me into this!"

"Stop yelling at me. Why are you yelling at me?"

"Because what am I now? A criminal?" He moves, walks away from her, angry tone in his voice and maybe even regret. "I can't go to jail. I'm way too good looking for jail!"

"WHAT?" April shouts, stops two steps away from him. He's so vain sometimes, it drives her nuts, makes her furious. "Are you that selfish?"

"Selfish? Me? No. I just don't wanna spend the next I don't know how many years worrying about the possibility of getting arrested for committing fraud against the United States Government and ruining my whole entire life over-"

"Over me?"

"That's not what I meant."

"You did!"

"Did not. Don't put words in my mouth."

"Don't act like an asshole, then! And don't act like this was all my fault when you were the one to speak in the first place. Stop blaming me." She says, closing her fists tightly, trying to control herself, but about to go on a rampage. "Fine. You don't want to marry me and screw up your entire brilliant future, let's go back there and call it off."

"Okay, April, hold on, wait." He rolls his eyes when she turns her back on him and stars walking towards the building, grabs her arm, and makes her face him again. "Fine, fine! Just, wait-"

She closes her eyes, counts to five, takes a deep breath with his fingers still holding her wrist gently. Shake it off. Breathe. You can do this, April. "What?"

"I will marry you."

"Okay."

"But you've got to ask me nicely."

She gives him a curious look, raises a brow, and places her free hand on her hips. "Ask you nicely, what?"

He lets her go, tilts his head to the side, and half smiles. "Ask me nicely to marry you."

"Do you want me to propose to you?"

"I want a real proposal."

"This is ridiculous. There is no way-"

"If you want me, you've got to ask me. On one knee."

"No! And, by the way, I don't want you, I-"

"C'mon, if you want it, you have to ask me nicely." He's playing hard to get, and since she's already pissed off, he's only making it worse. For his sake and her own he's not going to back off now. The consequences would be disastrous. However, the look on her face is priceless and he's going to make her work for it.

She looks around the empty parking lot, searches for the least embarrassing moment to do it, because being seen in public doing this would be even more mortifying. Getting down on one knee for a man and proposing is definitely the highlight of her year, and she's being sarcastic, of course.

Faking a smile at him, April lowers her body, knee on the floor, face up towards him. Finding a balance, she tries her best not to get dirt on her jeans, because it was raining a while ago and the pavement is still wet. She breathes in, rolls her eyes, runs the question in her mind and tries to find the guts to do it already. "Will you - huh - marry me?"

"No." He replies right away, puts his hands inside his own jean pockets. "Will you – huh – marry me? What kind of proposal is that? Say it like you mean it."

That's the point. She doesn't and this is getting weird, because this is usually the guy's job and she never even considered being in this position, proposing, in an unpleasantly dirty parking lot, to her best friend of years, to avoid being deported to her home country. It was far from the romantic fairytales every little girl dreams about.

"You heard me. Ask me nicely."

"What does that even mean? You know what? You're pushing your luck, but fine."

"I'm waiting."

"Jackson, my sweet pumpkin" He watches amused as she raises one hand in the air, searching for his. Giving her his hand, he licks his lips, entertained with her flustered face, rosy cheeks and hazel eyes casting him a deadly spell, haunting him with his own silly words. "Will you pretty please, with cherries on top, marry me?"

He makes her wait for a reply, bites his lower lip, narrows his eyes, pretends to be giving it a second, third, even fourth thought.

"Jackson!"

"I don't appreciate the sarcasm, but yes, I will marry you."

"Good. Now let's go before I'm the one changing my mind about this." She says, using his hand to get herself up on her feet again.

…

By noon, April finds Jackson alone in a tunnel, sitting on an empty hospital bed, with his back against the wall, a book open on his lap, and a bag of chips by his side, eating a sandwich.

"These are the questions the INS is going to ask us. Good thing I know almost everything about you, so…"

"Almost everything about me?"

"You're not that mysterious, Jackson." She replies, jumping on the bed and sitting next to him. "Plus, I'm you're best friend."

"Okay, let's see." He says, looking at the piece of paper he took from her hands. "You know the answer to all these questions about me?"

"Yep." She says, popping the last letter of the word. Stealing the bag of chips, she looks at him, and smirks, positive of her knowledge.

"What am I allergic to?"

"Pineapple, and apparently cameras. You get extremely shy and weird around them."

"Oh, this one is good. Who proposed to whom?"

She punches him instantly, still mad. "That's not even funny!"

"Okay, okay."

"Next!"

"Any recent surgeries?"

"I had one, but it was a long time ago, so it's not important." She replies, desperately trying to change the topic. She doesn't want to go there. Plus, her nose job is a secret.

"Do you have a joint account?"

"Hmm, no, because I don't want the attorney to think I'm a gold digger."

His last name and his Avery money are both a blessing and a curse. You never know who to trust, because of who you are and he had a good amount of nasty experiences to know what he's talking about. But that's not even the point, because she doesn't even look like a gold digger.

Moving on. "Do I have any scars?"

"Except for the one on your forehead. No, I don't think so." She quickly replies, taking another bite of a long chip. "You got it when you were six, on a skiing trip to Aspen. Cried like a baby for hours when they had to stitch you up."

Jackson leads his hand to his scar, touches it with two fingers. He can't recall telling her all about this, which could only mean one thing. "Are you still Facebooking my mom?" She puts the whole chip in her mouth, shrugs her shoulders, but doesn't reply. "I told you to stop, didn't I?"

"We're online friends."

"Just stop it!" Jackson says, turning the page and looking for more questions. "Do you have any birthmarks?"

"Hmm, yeah." She nods. "But I'm not showing it to you."

"I need to see it. I'm your fiancé. I'm supposed to know what it looks like."

"No. It's in an awkward place."

"And?"

She puts the bag down, fills her cheeks with air, before exhaling slowly. He is right and if they do ask that question, he's going to need to know what to reply. She could simply tell him, but it's easier if he sees it, so there's no room for mistakes.

Jackson puts the paper down on his lap, watches as she slowly reaches for her top, lifts it up to her bellybutton, showing her perfect toned stomach. She then unties the strings holding her baby blue scrub pants, and he can see the beginning of her purple cotton panties.

He gulps, unsure of what the hell is happening, already regretting making her show him the birthmark if it's in such a hidden place. That's when she stops, thankfully.

"It's small, but-"

Jackson leans forward to take a better look. The birthmark is small indeed, shaped like funny looking dove, placed on the right side of her hip bone, right above her thigh, and has kind of a red-ish color that contrasts with her skin tone so well.

Spontaneously, he raises one hand, the same one he led to his forehead a couple of minutes ago, and touches her skin gently, pressing his curious fingers on her mark.

Her belly goes up and down with her breathing while he lingers, inspects the birthmark forgetting he's just a friend, taking off his doctor mask as well. He knows it belongs to her, it's been in her since she was born, because it's a birthmark, but he wonders if he's the first outsider to ever see it. Surely, she hasn't showed it to anybody else, because he's certain she's still a virgin and people usually don't go around showing others their secret marks.

April doesn't contest his approach, or backs off when his thumb comes too close to her panties. "Sorry." He's the only quickly taking off his hand, apologizing for the incident. Making her feel weird it's the last thing he wants.

Suddenly, realizing his strange position, Jackson sits back up, while she covers herself again. This was probably the closest he has ever been to her, touched her.

Okay, man, put yourself back together, she's your friend!

"Next question?" She asks.

Mindlessly, Jackson grabs the paper, reads the first question he lays his eyes on. "What form of contraception do you use?"

"What?" Her voice sounding higher than usual.

Shit! It's not like they're going to need them anyways, because she's a virgin and no way he's having sex with her. Obviously she's attractive, but he never saw her as his type. Plus, this is just a contract, it stays in the papers, they're two actors in this well produced play.

Double shit! If this a play and they both need to act like they mean it, then his dating life is doomed, because what kind of girl would date him knowing that he's married to his best friend? He's never going to get laid ever again, is he? Sure, no one needs to know about April and he, but-

"What's up?" Alex walks in, making Jackson quickly hide the paper in the middle of the book still on his lap. "What are you doing?"

"Studying for the Boards." She replies, jumping off the bed as fast as she can. "See you guys later. I've got to go."

Jackson watches as she walks away, confused. Was she reacting to his previous stupid question or to Alex's sudden appearance? Either way, this was going to be long, long ride.

For better or for worse.

…

While The Hamptons is in hiatus, I've decided to write this cute little short story. It's mostly fun and I hope you guys like it as much as I do.

Please be kind and leave a review!

Annie