DISCLAIMER: This is possibly the weirdest thing I've ever done. All my writing stays tucked up in the darkest corner of the universe lest someone see it and chuck me into a looney bin. I thought of this idea during Pride Month, and after my friend was babbling on about Karen/Chris fanfics versus Chris/Jayne fanfics. I thought of the last possible combination and how nobody ever used it, and joked that I'd write a fic. However, two people wanted to read it, so here is a oneshot of Karen and Jayne.

Most people remember the 1984 Olympics as the year Jayne Torvill and Christopher Dean took the judges, and the world, by storm with their rendition of Ravel's Bolero. Their artistic flair and beautiful skating earned them a perfect score and a gold medal, but Jayne won something extra: Karen Barber.

Karen and her partner Nicky had trained for quite a while. I mean, they were at the Olympics, what else were they meant to do? All the training in the world wouldn't have beaten the legendary Torvill and Dean, because they had something Karen and Nicky hadn't quite mastered. They had that spark of magic that took your breath away the second you stepped onto the ice. They'd be lying if they said they weren't jealous.

Karen's thoughts when her friends took to the ice were a jumbled mess. Torn between wanting to beat them and wanting them to beat everybody else. But the second they knelt down waiting for the start of Ravel's Bolero, Karen knew exactly the outcome she wanted.

Jayne and Chris waited for a little girl to collect bits and bobs thrown on the ice, then slid gracefully to their start spot. Karen was waiting in the sidelines, barely daring to breathe in case it put them off.

She looked adoringly at Chris, wondering how he could even move in those ridiculous trousers, let alone skate in them. Then her eyes moved to Jayne, and she forgot how to breathe. Jayne was hardly the most striking person she'd ever seen, I mean, not compared to Chris at least, but something about her in her soon-to-be-iconic purple dress and 80s makeup made Karen's heart skip a beat.

The music had started, and the two skaters in the middle of the rink were no longer Jayne and Chris from Nottingham. They switched in that second to the legendary Torvill and Dean of Great Britain. They were completely in sync and took no notice of their surroundings; they had a one-track mind. Things like floods, earthquakes and fire could have hit the whole of Sarajevo, and they wouldn't have noticed. Everybody was watching those two make history.

However, Karen probably wouldn't have noticed if Chris fell over or lobbed a skate pointy end first into the audience. All she could see was Jayne. Jayne was pretty much floating. Her and Chris were the perfect match. Ice dancing is one of the most intimate sports imaginable, and without the perfect partner, you're screwed. Karen would have given her right arm to be in Chris's place, holding Jayne.

The time flew by. Karen forgot that they were skating, she was too busy admiring them both. By the time they both slid across the rink in their final pose, the applause became deafening. Torvill and Dean got up, took their bows, received bouquets, and got their perfect score, currently never matched. You know, standard stuff.

Off the rink, they were back to being Jayne and Chris. Smiling, elated, and humble just like normal. They both immediately went to see Karen, who was standing surrounded by people but still alone. She greeted the legends with a hug, and stepped back for a moment.

"Well, what did you think?" Jayne asked Karen. Chris was chatting to someone else, so they had a moment of peace.

"Uh, all that skating made your bum look incredible," Karen sort of mumbled, half hoping Jayne didn't hear it. She did, and rather than being a little bit weirded out like most people, she scooped Karen into a tight hug, and whispered "I love you so much, you oddball."