So I know there are lots of other stories that I should be getting on with but this idea just keeps bugging me. It's all my ideas since Christmas bundled together so shouldn't be too boring...

STEPHANIE MEYER OWNS ALL OF THESE CHARACTERS AND I OWN NOTHING ETC.

So ENJOY!

Chapter One

"Good morning and there's your coffee!"

"You're in an unusually chipper mood so early in the morning," I told Angela as I reached for my coffee across the battered old desk, the leather stapled to the top peeling at the corners; the maroon had faded to an unbecoming shade of brown years ago.

"Well you're quite perky as well, how many weeks has it been since you were on time?" was her reply, delivered with a smile to ensure our banter was not replaced by hurt feelings.

"What gives?" we shouted at the same time.

"Ah, ah, ah. I said it first," Angela said, standing by her side of the desk triumphantly shaking a finger at me as I opened my mouth to protest. "Sooo?" She sat down and placed her chin on her clasped hands.

"So what?" If I was going to tell her I was going to stall as long as possible.

"Why are you in a happy mood?!" Angela all but shouted at me before smiling sweetly and batting her eyelashes. I tried my best not to laugh at her head leant to one side: I was not going down without a fight. She apparently knew this and so was apparently going to play the game to get me to spill quicker. Damn her and her wickedly clever ways!

"Don't know what you are on about," I said, determined to be as petulant as possible as I rearranged various papers on my desk. Unfortunately it would take a while as my filing system consisted of dumping whatever it was needing to be stored safely anywhere with enough space not to topple anything over. It worked for me so don't judge.

"Yes you do. Have you met someone? Is that it?" she persisted and leant foreword across the desk, sitting with her knees under her on her chair.

"No! I've given them up for lent!"

"Oh, sorry," she mumbled with a role of her eyes that stated she clearly couldn't believe I would go without flirting for 40 days. "So what is it then?"

"Oh, okay," I gave in. Ungraciously before feeling the excitement fill me up from head to toe. "Emmett agreed to give me an interview!" I couldn't resist: I bounced on my chair, clapped my hands and squealed like a little girl with a new Barbie doll.

Angela's mouth had dropped open, very near hitting the elevated-with-paper desk. "Oh. My. God!" she breathed and I spun round on the office chair.

"How long have I been harassing that poor secretary for an interview?" I asked as Angela just clutched her arm rests, her mouth going like a fish. "Will you do the photos for me?" I asked and when she nodded mutely I hurled myself around (no need to exacerbate the paper problem) the table and launched myself at her.

We both fell onto the floor and startled giggling 'thank you's.

"Erm, am I interrupting something?"

Angela and I looked up from the floor, very slowly passed the long legs concealed behind smart trousers, up the lean torso barely covered by the silk shirt that flowed over the muscles everyone knew were under there, noting the contrast between that very same shirt pushed up to the elbows revealing his beautiful skin over beautifully toned forearms and up into the quizzical face with that Colgate smile, of Jacob Black. Chief Editor. Our boss. And too crush-worthy for words. He was gay of course.

"No, not at all," I said, propping myself up on my own scrawny elbows. I looked at Angela still lying on the floor trying to hide her giggles behind a hand clasped to her mouth. I bit on my knuckles as I tried to tell him the good news but kept breaking down with convulsions of laughter. He just looked so darned funny!

"Okay… I'm gonna go," he said haltingly, probably deciding if it was safe to leave us on our own.

"No! We're sane now, I swear!" I shouted before he even turned to leave. He raised his eyebrows and, with a pointed look at Angela who was now curled up in the foetal position, clearly relayed the message that he highly doubted that. I offered him my hand and he pulled me up.

"I bring good news!" I beamed up at him as I straightened out my skirt.

"Oh really?" he asked, raising one eyebrow at me and leaning on the door frame, his head bowed so his head wouldn't hit the top of it.

"Guess who I just landed an interview with…" I said, a grin on my face so wide my muscles began to ache. I mimed playing on a computer.

"No idea," he said with a mischievous smile on his face.

"Oh you're no fun!" I shouted at him.

"Now I wouldn't say that's very fair," he mused with a twinkle in his eyes. I pouted and glared at him. "Oh I give up, tell me. You're about to burst."

It was true. So I took a big breath to shriek "Emmett Cullen!" Black's face fell as my words sunk in and then in two strides he'd grabbed my and was parading me round our tiny office.

"Ah Bells! Now you be nice to him and maybe he'll agree to sponsor something, Lord knows we need new computers everywhere! and printers and, and, and…" he seemed to run out of steam as he thought of the possibilities and I stood (or rather floated) there waiting for him to put me back on the ground instead of leaving me suspended between his hands like King Kong. Carefully he placed me down as he saw my expression and I started tapping my foot with my hands on my hips. Before I could speak or say anything about the whereabouts of my congratulations he'd given my a kiss on the forehead and was skipping down the corridor muttering about "Emmett Cullen" in an awed voice.

"What about my 'finally, all your hard work paying off, Bella'? Where's that, eh?" I shouted after him.

He turned back to bellow: "Isabella Swan you are a genius!" before stopping and adding "you might want to check out Angela, she was looking a little short of breath when I saw her." He soon carried on his way.

"Well. That was an experience, Ange," I said with a huff sitting down. "Ange?" I sat up in my chair. "Angela!"

She rolled over and signalled at her bag.

"Oh, sorry!" I fished in the bag and pulled out the inhaler before chucking it at her. She looked rather red. I stared out of the window at the view of the city. It was indescribable: the hubbub of so many peoples all strangers but so close somehow. I could feel something just waiting to happen.

"Hey Ange?" I asked her when she'd sat back down, looking a little flustered but intact none-the-less.

"Hmmm?" was her mumbled answer.

"When did you turn to Gucci?" I asked signalling the new tote that sat by her feet.

"She smiled, shrugged before relaying to me the events of her weekend.

Any good? So review and let me know how you think it went!

Cheers