'And thanks once again to my guests tonight, Jayne Torvill and Christopher Dean!'

The audience got on their feet and applauded easily the best two things that had ever happened to the world of ice skating, and even though it had been nearly three decades since that gold winning Olympic performance of Bolero, they were still the nation's sporting sweethearts.

Chris looked across to Jayne, elegantly perched on her chair. She really is gorgeous he thought to himself. He'd got a glimpse of her while she was getting her hair done before the show and time itself seemed to stop. She sat there casually chatting to her hairstylist every so often smiling and laughing. She'd spotted him lingering by her dressing room door and flashed him a cheeky smile, he blushed slightly at being caught, he hated the fact that she could still make him feel like a teenage boy. He choked a giggle, offering a pathetic wave before quickly returning to his dressing room to get ready.

They offered smiles to the audience and shook Piers' hand before being ushered into their separate dressing rooms by the assistants. Jayne slumped down onto her chair staring blindly into the mirror. Well that was awkward. She naively didn't expect Piers' questions to be as probing as they were. She felt really bad for Chris. Piers had asked questions about their relationship, something which always seemed to be under scrutiny by the media, putting more and more pressure on them both the admit things on national television that they didn't particularly want to admit, especially in front of Karen, Chris's new girlfriend, who was sat in the audience.

The relationship between Jayne and Chris was a peculiar one to say the least. Of course they'd fancied each other in their teenage years, she was petite, blonde, adorable, talented and one of the few people that mirrored his work ethic and determination, and he was tall, blonde, gorgeous and carried the air of a 'prince' on the ice, as Jayne often described him. However any possibility of a sexual relationship between them was forbidden by coaches and even though constantly being watched, they'd managed a few awkward kisses. However quickly giving up, the stress of trying to hide what they felt for one another becoming too much. It had only left one way for them to be able to admit their love, on the ice. They were intimate, dragged their hands lovingly over the other's body and shared heart stoppingly passionate glances. But they were forced to push their passions down and hide them from the world.

She got tired of waiting for him, for them, met a man called Phil Christensen and fell in love. She still loved Chris though, and even with his marriages and relationships, he loved Jayne. And slowly the love that they had felt for so long began to resurface, glances lingering longer, flirtatious banter becoming more heated and touches becoming more intimate, just like the old days she reminisced. Although, she felt as though she'd lost him recently, he seemed distant.

She pondered this while slowly removing her jewellery in front of the mirror; she had been so lost in her thoughts that she hadn't heard a soft knock at the door.

The door slowly slid open and the contours of her rigid, pensive face softened at the sight of Chris. 'You alright Jaynie?' he smirked. She smiled and nodded, curling her fingers and making a gesture for him to come in. 'You were really brave tonight you know,' Chris reassured her. The corners of her mouth lifted slightly, slowly turning into a smile. It was really hard for him to see her get so upset on live television, he moved swiftly across the room and dragged a chair so he could sit next to her. He reached out and sandwiched her hands with his, slowly tracing circles on the back of her palms with his thumb. His touch was always so soothing to her. 'Can I ask something?' she timidly whispered.

'Anything,' he replied sweetly looking lovingly into her eyes.

'Did you mean what you said?'

'What do you mean Jaynie?' he asked slightly puzzled at this sudden intense atmosphere in the dressing room.

'When he asked you how you'd described me to someone who didn't know me,' she smirked, a smile growing on her face.

In my eyes she is everything I would want her to be, was what he had said.

'Every word,' he leaned in to place a soft kiss on her cheek, purposely prolonging the moment for as long as he could. She threw her arms around him, her face beaming Chris always knew how to make her feel special. He wrapped his arms around her waist nuzzling his face into her neck, taking in a deep breath and breathing in the intoxicating scent that was Jayne Torvill. 'Thank you,' she whispered delicately. They pulled back and with their foreheads resting against each other's she noticed a small tear appear in the corner of her skating partner's eye. 'No, no, no, don't cry my blonde prince,' she begged, lifting her thumb to wipe the small drop of salty liquid descending down his cheek.

'I'm so sorry…I just…I should go,' and with that he hurried out of the dressing room, leaving a very confused and worried Jayne.

…

Chris grabbed his bag from the dressing room and hailed a taxi outside to his apartment. Stupid, stupid he angrily chanted to himself, cradling his face in his hands, slouched down against the back seat of the cab. 'Just when you get it under control, you get all soppy, and on national television!' he hissed to himself. He sat there verbally abusing himself for the next ten or so minutes. Controlling his feelings for Jayne was reaching a finishing point, and with every passing day it was getting painfully harder to reel in the love he felt for his lifelong friend. He would never tell her though, never. They'd had that conversation at the beginning of their ice skating career, they had seen so many professional couples fall apart due to problems in their social lives and they'd made a vow to never fall victim to that.

And as the taxi mounted the curb with a bump, he was catapulted from his dreamy haze back into reality. He laboriously lugged his bag up the stairs and shoved his key into the door. Another night without her he thought to himself, resting his head against his front door. He couldn't do it any longer. Having to see her every day, not being able to reach out and hold her, kiss her, love her. It was killing him inside.

He stumbled into his apartment, throwing his holdall onto the floor and making his way to the kitchen. He reached for the gin and poured himself a glass, sitting there in silence as the world turned around him.

He felt a small buzz in the depth of his jacket pocket, three missed calls from Karen Barber. Oh shit Karen he murmured under his breath. He'd just stormed out of the studio and hadn't even said goodnight to her, she was going to be pissed with him, again, but he'd deal with that tomorrow morning. Sure he had strong feelings for Karen but even she'd seen that Chris hadn't been the same for months now. They had just been two lonely friends who were desperately searching for love and had found it in each other, each knew that they had solely been a replacement for the true loves that were missing from their lives, Karen's ex-husband and Chris's Jayne. They hadn't ended it officially but each knew that their relationship had run its course. Karen couldn't deal with Chris's self-destructive personality and the blindingly obvious fact that he was madly in love with his best friend, and slowly over the past couple of months they had drifted apart. He took a large swig from his glass, downing the contents, letting the burning liquid wash away his sadness.

This was his life now, sat alone in his kitchen until the early hours of the morning and eventually passing out onto his sofa at an ungodly hour. He'd been depressed for a while now and hadn't been able to control this vicious cycle, consuming parts of his life. It had affected his work, ruined his relationship with Karen, how long until it consumed Jayne? He longed for her, but he couldn't have her and that was the way that it was to be forever. Pouring himself another glass, he slumped against the island of his kitchen. 'Just take it one day at a time Christopher, one day at a time.'

…

'I'm so sorry…I just…I should go,' and with that he hurried out of the dressing room. She spun around in her chair watching him short of running down the hallway; his hands nervously skimming through the blonde mop of hair on his head. She raised from her seat and made to run after him before she was interrupted by her phone ringing on her dressing room table. She grunted under her breath at the inappropriate timing but against her better judgement decided she should probably take it. 'Hello,' it was Phil, his voice rushed and panicky on the other end of the line. He began to incessantly babble into the phone, Jayne only managing to pick out a few words, stairs, accident, Jessica. 'Wait slow down Phil, what happened?'

She hurriedly grabbed her things in her dressing room and ran to the studio car park, bundling all her things into the boot of the car and rushed home. When Phil had his back turned from watching Jessica she had fallen down the stairs, landing in a mangled heap at the bottom step. She hadn't stopped crying for the past hour and couldn't seem to move her fingers. Thousands of images at once flashed through her mind. Her poor baby, hurt, crying, calling out for her mummy, her mummy out working. She had to quickly rub her eyes and take a deep breath in in order to stop her tears blurring the view of the road in front of her. I can't believe Phil wasn't watching her she knew that he was having trouble adjusting to his new role as a father but nine years with Kieran and now five with Jessica should have been enough! Her nails dug into the steering wheel. Chris would never have let this happen.

She arrived at her home and ran inside, leaving the car door unlocked desperate to see her little baby girl. She was greeted by the sight of Phil nervously pacing up and down the hallway. 'Where is she? Is she ok?' she shouted, not in control of the current fear coursing through her veins. Phil sheepishly pointed to the living room. Jayne threw open the door to find the small figure of her daughter curled up on the sofa, tear stained cheeks, clutching a pillow. Her pale skin contrasting to the warm brown chocolate sofa. 'Oh darling,' Jayne fell to her knees, wrapping her child in her arms. After calling out the doctor for a home visit that same night, she was relieved to know that physically Jess was fine, she was just in a lot of shock.

'I'm sorry love, I don't know what happened, one minute I was on the bed watching the rugby and the next thing I knew, I heard her crying at the bottom of the stairs,' Phil pleaded. Jayne swallowed her rage not wanting to make a scene in front of the children. That was his excuse, he was watching the rugby. After tucking the children into bed Jayne came downstairs to turn off the lights, to be confronted by Phil. They argued for hours, Jayne furious with the fact he hadn't thought to check up on their daughter and Phil always dragging back up the fact that she's never around. 'The children are at school for the majority of the day Phil! Is it that hard to watch them for a few hours before they get into bed! Am I really asking that much of you?' she screamed, resisting the urge to throw things.

'Just because I'm the only one around anymore, not swanning off with…him,' she didn't have to ask who he meant, she knew exactly who he was talking about. That comment really stung her, this season of Dancing on Ice had just finished and she had been relieved to finally get to spend more time with the kids and still he accuses her on leaving him with them? 'He's more of a man than you'll ever be,' she hissed under her breath, wishing for nothing more than to be in Chris's arms at that moment. They'd been arguing like this for a few years now, it was hard for Jayne to sit and watch the breakdown of her marriage before her eyes, but it was something she couldn't control. They had both changed, it was no one's fault in particular, but it was just life. But right now, she couldn't even stand the sight of him, she couldn't stand this jealous rage that he forced onto her in every dispute they had. 'Get out,' she raised her head and her eyes, red and puffy from crying met his.

'What?' he angrily questioned.

'GET OUT!' she screamed, running to the front door and opening it for him. He took one last look at her before tearing his jacket from the coat stand and storming out to his car. She slammed the door behind him, instantly bursting out into tears. And with great sobs she collapsed against the door, head falling into her knees. She couldn't do this anymore. First thing tomorrow, she was going to hit him with some divorce papers. She loved her kids and they needed a more stable environment where parents weren't screaming at each other all the time, they deserved better.

And while she lay there, the one thought that calmed her down was the thought of Chris. His soft warming smile, his eyes sparkling as they looked into hers, his reassuring voice whispering sweet nothings into her ear and how she wanted nothing else than to be with him right then.