Here it is, fresh from the editor. I know this one's a little short, but I promise to make up for it in the next one. Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy it! And please leave a comment if you're so inclined; I love hearing from you guys!

Displacement

April 22, 2012

After it was all said and done, the cliché of the situation would be the thing that surprised Chris the most. Especially since it wasn't the one virtually everyone on the planet thought it would be.

It was one of those things he'd always sworn would never happen to him, succumbing to a cliché, and when Christopher Dean made something his goal, he achieved it. In spades.

And the occasional world record. The actual Guinness World Record, not just setting a(nother) record at the Worlds Championship.

To be fair, this particular cliché was completely and totally out of his control, but still: cliché.

For literally the entire season of Dancing on Ice, the pros had been begging to do a split number: the men wanted to skate with Jayne, the women with Chris, and then have a dance-off of sorts to finish the routine. Similar to what they'd done two years earlier with the 'boys versus girls' gag, only . . . bigger. Showier. More athletic. And possibly involving pyrotechnics.

Also for literally the entire season, Chris and Jayne had refused. In large part, it was because neither of them actually liked skating with other people (not even in training, though they hid it well, seeing as it was a requirement of life).

Well, that and the fact that Chris loathed the thought of trusting Jayne to anyone else and as per usual, they were of the same mind in this.

But the main reason they were so averse to doing it was because they had noticed a new and troubling tendency among the pros toward . . . call it 'carelessness'.

Or maybe 'arrogance' was a better word.

Whichever, the impression was strong enough (and there was only so much they could do to rein it in) to disturb both Chris and Jayne and make them jointly refuse.

So naturally, the execs — none of whom had ever skated professionally and why were they in charge of a show about skating? — heard about it and took it upon themselves to declare that it was a fantastic idea and would add some much-needed pizzazz to the upcoming tour, since Andi Peters wasn't able to host this year. Why they had waited until the last two weeks of the series to come to this conclusion was anyone's guess, but — as Chris acerbically observed to the ice rink at large and Jayne in particular more than once — why make themselves helpful now?

Any and all protests fell on deaf ears (cliché number one), and then the fools decided that they were knowledgeable enough and In Charge Enough to select the songs (cliché number two). Said choices were I'm Too Sexy for Chris and the girls (there was three, though it sent Jayne into a fit of laughter when she first heard it) and You Make Me Feel Like a Woman for Jayne and the men (not only was this the fourth cliché, but it was also just fundamentally wrong. Jayne Torvill did not DO country, that one routine notwithstanding.).

The song choices were the final straw and resulted in a very . . . intense . . . meeting, wherein Jayne and Chris made it known that fine, they would do this thing because it was a good idea in theory — and because the announcement had already been made, damn them — but if the execs so much as thought about the routine, much less interfered again, Chris would deliberately break his leg during a live show and make sure everyone on the planet knew the reason why.

Jayne promised to not only be the first person to sign his cast — also in front of a live audience — but she would have custom-made crutches waiting when he left the hospital, along with the press and certain people from Twitter, Tumblr, and Instagram.

Also, Piers Morgan, because they were firm believers in 'Go Big or Go Home'.

Once the terms and conditions had been laid out, Jayne and Chris gave their trouble-making executive producers a very even look, with matching raised eyebrows. It was beyond unnerving, particularly since those eyebrows were accompanied by the dead man's stare that had confounded — and intimidated — paparazzi, live interviewers, and the media as an entity for more than thirty years.

Then, as always in perfect sync, they said, "Are we clear?"

The executive producers of Dancing on Ice were clear.

So the pair resigned themselves to the situation and started making plans. Songs were selected, choreography was designed, and training commenced.

It was too late in the year to have the routine ready in time for the beginning of the tour, and with Chris and Jayne being the perfectionists they were, it took another week after the first show before they were both comfortable enough to finally skate it.

And to give everyone credit, the first four performances went beautifully. The crowd loved it, the pros were a lot more humbled by one-on-one training and direct skating with 'Grandma and Grandpa' than anyone expected (with the exceptions of Robin Cousins and Kyron Bracken, who both spent those weeks of training and rehearsal in near-constant hysterics at watching those arrogant children get so effortlessly schooled), the celebrities were in even more awe of The Legends (or Ice Royalty, depending on who was talking), and The Royal Legends in question conceded that it was both different and more entertaining than the Team Challenges.

Also, unlike the group number, which catered to the most impressive move the least skilled skater could perform, these routines were designed to show off Chris and Jayne, just with the entire complement of professionals standing in for the partner in question.

Eventually, the couple relaxed and enjoyed performance number five, and actually had fun with six and seven.

Then . . . then, Cliché Number Five made its presence known.

And Christopher Dean experienced a seismic shift so profound, it was nearly a year before he realized it had happened.

December 13, 2012

When it came to their 37-year partnership, Jayne Torvill and Christopher Dean had experienced everything together. So when Chris experienced his seismic shift, it only stood to reason that Jayne would be right there with her own . . . which she was, though hers would actually happen seventeen days after his.

And like her partner, she completely failed to realize anything had changed.

(this was more comforting than either of them would admit later)

When the world as she knew it upended itself, there wasn't so much as hint of it in the wind. Nicholas du Lac's presence was normal, Karen's bitchiness was right on cue, and of course the Three Stooges (well, two stooges and Ashley) were there to bear witness because why not.

Karen was being her now-usual uncooperative self, which Jayne would admit had her stumped. For the life of her, she could not figure out why her friend — frenemy? — had become so angry and resentful toward her, beyond the obvious, though she had to wonder how much of it had to do with what had happened that . . . umm, well, that one afternoon. Given that the only person who had been humiliated that day was Karen in spite of her clear intentions, a certain amount of hostility was to be expected, but Jayne still could not think of a reason (again, other than Chris) why her divorcing Phil should be such a big deal to the other woman, much less her dating Nick. But, after weeks of steadily worsening acrimony, she no longer cared. Her goal now when interacting with Karen was to maintain civility and if that should fail, to make sure Chris would give her an alibi.

Which, duh. Of course he would.

(she knew damn good and well that her partner understood at least some of the reasons behind Karen's attitude change, but he refused to even acknowledge that he knew and actually bit his lip bloody both times she'd asked, so despite her burning curiosity, she respected his silence and didn't try again.)

Still, the mere fact that it was necessary had caused Jayne to be a lot less accepting of certain things than she would have been otherwise. Therefore, watching Robin and Jason finally snap and shove Karen off her high horse was considerably more satisfying than it should have been.

But when even Jason — The Bitch Queen of the studio — was unable to contain his amusement, Jayne didn't bother. Especially when Chris collapsed on her shoulder, his body shaking with laughter.

With Karen dealt with, they were able to get back to work and finally make some headway on the new season. It was amazing how quickly they were able to get on with it when Karen stopped talking; she sulked to the high heavens, but as long as she did it silently, they easily ignored it and shit got done. They would all give a lot to leave her out of these meetings, but since she was 'the' assistant coach, she had to be there (dammit). And, miracle of miracles, they were actually ending on time when Nicholas du Lac came in a few minutes before her and Chris' dance training was due to start.

Every Thursday, after this meeting, Nick would work with Chris and Jayne on dance and ballet moves, mostly learning and perfecting what they had in mind for the celebs so they could better demonstrate; Fridays and Tuesdays were for everyone else. Nick couldn't skate worth a damn (even after repeated attempts by the pair to teach him), but he had somehow figured out how to move on the floor with similar sweeping motions to the way a skater did, doing things in a single motion instead of multiple steps. That had been a huge amount of help for the celebs learning to skate, but it had also been the deciding factor for Chris and Jayne in officially learning how to dance. Because of this new-to-them ability, Jayne could move with him much the same way she did with Chris, which was as natural for her as breathing, but still learn the actual steps on the ground. And since he and her partner could trade places as needed to see or practice the male's steps, it worked out very well for the skating pair.

The fact that they were occasionally forced to pull a certain move from Dirty Dancing was very carefully ignored, since it was usually Chris playing the role of Baby.

And learning to tango that way had been . . . entertaining. Nick had failed to take into account the fact that he wasn't Chris, so after a few false starts, he grabbed Jayne's upper thigh in order to show her how to get in a particular — and difficult — position. Only he did it without so much as a gesture of intent or even a word of warning — and, you know, he wasn't Chris — so Jayne, reacting instinctively, hauled off and slapped him so hard, it echoed through the studio and he had a handprint on his cheek for nearly a day.

After a beat of shocked silence, Chris actually slid down the wall to the floor, howling with laughter, while Nick blinked in rather understandable surprise and then managed to apologize with complete sincerity despite the smile pulling at his lips. Jayne regally accepted his apology and, while Chris got himself under control, they worked on the move . . . with Nick making sure to verbalize and/or demonstrate with great exaggeration exactly what he was about to do. This kept setting Chris off, however, so at the end of the day, Jayne had learned the entire dance while her partner could not have said which song they were using under pain of death.

But that was good. Things like that helped the work stay fresh, interesting, and unpredictable enough to keep things from getting stagnant but no so much as to cause chaos.

And as the meeting came to a gradual close but before Karen threw a lit firecracker on a pile of oil-soaked dry wood, Jayne found herself drifting a bit, remembering the events of the last year and marveling yet again at some of the changes they had all undergone.

Before everything had . . . happened . . . she and Chris done something even they had thought impossible and gained even more proficiency in their life's work, they had helped set new (and ridiculously high) standards for reality television — and then things settled down for a few months.

There was very little professional tension (Karen) and just as little personal drama (Phil — and, again, Karen), and life was . . . good. Fine. Okay.

Everything was just — fine. It was. Things were . . . fine.

Then That Number went so horribly, horribly wrong.

And nobody reacted the way they were supposed to, which brought certain truths to light.

But not the truths that anyone would have thought.