Hello all! A new Spashley fic to hopefully kick start my other story, which is suffering from some hellish writers block!

This has vaguely more of a plan seeing as its kinda based on my day to day life - just made far more interesting ;) Please read on and leave me some feedback in the form of a review.

As per usual don't own anything :)

Chapter 1 - Dance Grumpy Girl, Dance

First the hands landed palm down on the desk, followed quickly by a forehead. Brunette curls bounced gently as they settled around her face, forming a personal shield and allowing her dark, tired eyes to secretly close. The girl exhaled heavily and gave in.

A few moments later, just as the sweet sensation of falling asleep had started to wrap around the exhausted worker, the office door opened and her peace was shattered. The intruder walked up to the make-shift bed and placed a large to-go Starbucks on the coaster, then returned to her seat opposite. After tapping on her keyboard for the length of a curt e-mail, the girl picked up her own drink and reclined slightly in her chair, looking over the two desks at her friend.

"So how did it go Ash?" The girl asked with what appeared to be genuine interest.

The roasted beans started to have an impact almost immediately. Their scent floated up through the plastic lid and made their way to Ashley's senses. It was comforting and invigorating, like her body had decided it had fractionally more effort just by knowing the caffeine was nearby. Lifting her head off the desk and settling into a one handed chin rest position, the grumpy girl lifted her coffee and sipped before responding.

"It went." She shrugged and sipped again. Caffeine flooding her body, giving her a liquid kick up the ass.

"That good?"

"Mhmm. He actually did the eyebrow."

"Oh shit" Both girls sipped in silence for a moment as the weight of the single raised brow settled, "but the article was witty, he must have found it vaguely amusing?"

"He didn't even crack a smile. Not even a smirk, barely even a tickle of a funny bone. He looked like grumpy cat."

"Bastard grumpy cat. What are you gunna do now then?"

The brunette shurgged, drank her coffee and pulled her thinking face. "I don't know, I worked so hard on that article! Stupid band with their stupid songs and their stupid hair! Urgh!" She moved her hand so she was cupping her coffee and let her head drop forward heavily, her hair once again falling into her face.

"I know how to fix this."

Ashley raised her head so her eyes were visible, blew a gust of air out of the corner of her mouth to move a rogue ringlet from her face and looked at her companion incredulously. "Oh Chels, the wisest of us all, pray tell, how do you plan to fix this?"

"Well," She began as she opened up a web page and started typing, "I can't make Crawford any less of a dick, and I can't go back and make that band sound better for you because, to be honest, I cannot work miracles! But. What I can do for you is this..."

Chelsea leant over her desk and turned the window blinds so the room was closed off from prying eyes and turned on her computer speakers. One more click of the mouse and the techno 80s beat started to sound.

A smile spread across previously solemn features as the tune registered with the memory bank. "Chels I can't, we're at work!"

"Course we can," she said standing up, "IT always have the radio on and this is only for one song." She set the song back to the beginning and pointed. "You, up, now. Dance Grumpy Girl, Dance."

As the intro played for a second time, Ashley stood from her desk and started to to move her head in time to the music. As the beat started her hips followed and suddenly she grabbed a promotional umbrella from the rack and spun around on the spot, leaning into the handle as she sang,"I tried to discover, a little something to make me sweeter..."

The music played and Ashley sang almost perfectly. Being in a different building to the management really did have its perks.
Using the umbrella as both a microphone and pole to dance on, Ashley put on a mini-show and felt the tense knots in her shoulders start to relax. As the music played she started to throw in a little Frank Sinatra style and spun the umbrella in circles as she pretended to dock her cap.

The two girls had only known eachother for three months but they had formed a fast and strong friendship, built on their mutual dislike of their line manager and love of 80s movies. Their first day had resulted in a conversation about how much they wished their love lives could have an 80s movie ending - a Judd Nelson pumping a fist to the sky, John Cusack holding a boombox outside their window or even riding off on a lawn mower with Patrick Dempsey, but no, as Chelsea so cruelly pointed out, John Hughes did not direct their lives.

At the chorus, Chelsea ended her solo desk-dancing and slid up to her friend, wrapping arms around a slender waist to dance in tandem. "Soooooo, I hear you calllllling, oh baby pleeeeeeeeease..." The girls leant back dramatically and really felt the next couple of lines, acting as though they were singing directly to their manager.

"Give a little respect, tooooo-oooh meeeeee!"

After dancing out the rest of the song like finalists on Dancing With The Stars, the girls collapsed into their respective desk chairs and looked at each their for a moment before bursting into deep belly laughter.

They took matching gulps of coffee to refresh their dry mouths before reality hit and the conversation started once again. "So, talk to me Davies. What did he say?"

The brunette reclined in her chair, taking advantage of the still closed blinds and flung her booted feet on to the desk. "He just didn't seem to like it. He doesn't seem to like me! I can't win."

"He does like you, he's just a terrible manager! He doesn't know how to manage two fiesty, intelligent women. That's his problem not yours Ash."

The curls exhaled deeply. "I know and I agree but it's hard when he's constantly on my back" she flung herself forward and sat up in a professional manner, "I just need to man up and stay strong and keep going!"

"Good attitude Davies. Just crack on and re-write that article and I'll proof it for you, maybe provide you with some funky graphics or illustrations?"

She smiled at her kind friend and nodded appreciatively, "I think I love you a bit Afro-features."

"I thought I wasn't your type?" The artist winked at the writer.

All was calm again as the pair knuckled down to work. No more than 15 minutes had passed but Ashley had come full circle, from being seconds away from quitting, to typing away furiously - determined to win the respect of a man who appeared to not deserve her efforts.

There we have Ashley, please leave a review and ill maybe introduce Spencer next ;)