Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“This is a terrible idea.”

It’s a phrase Courtney has repeated many, many times over the last few weeks. When Alejandro showed her the email, it was the first thing out of her mouth. Every time he mentioned it afterward, she would remind him just how truly terrible of an idea it was, even after they signed the contracts, to which he responded, “It’s too late, we’re doing it.”

Courtney hit him with a pillow. He hit her back, and then a full scale pillow fight broke out that ended with Alejandro cowering under their dining room table, begging for mercy. Fairly childish antics for two nineteen year olds studying to be a lawyer and a paleontologist respectively, but despite their usual maturity, Courtney and Alejandro are, at heart, deeply competitive people.

Which is partially why Courtney did sign the contract. She of all people knows how awful reality television is, she knows, but it’s so hard to go from competing in deadly challenges for a million dollars to attempting to respond to her International Law professor’s questions faster and better than anyone else in class. Not that Courtney doesn’t have her work cut out for her. Having graduated high school a year early, she’s the youngest in her class, and determined to prove herself the best potential lawyer in spite of that. But there’s just no real risk—apart from Courtney’s class rival (as Courtney privately thinks of her) rattling out an irritatingly sharp answer and, when the professor praises her, grinning (sometimes at Courtney, which makes Courtney think the whole “class rival” thing is definitely two-sided). 

Regardless, as exhilarating as Courtney’s rival (she can’t remember the girl’s name for the life of her, sometimes she wonders if she got knocked upside the head one too many times on Total Drama) makes class, it isn’t always enough to satiate Courtney’s competitive drive. Nor is the a cappella group she’s joined, or the trivia nights she and Alejandro will combine forces for on occasion. The two of them make a good team. Which is why, when Alejandro suggested auditioning for the Ridonculous Race, she didn’t dismiss him outright. Sure, he had to slowly wear her down with his silver tongue, but she found his arguments to be solid. They would get to work together all the way through the competition, meaning betrayal was completely off the table, eliminations would be based on order of arrival, not a social game Courtney couldn’t possibly hope to win, and they’d be traveling the world on legitimate aircraft. 

All of this appealed to Courtney, but what she liked the most was how much it appealed to Alejandro. So she agreed, and he was delighted, even when she was whacking him with a pillow. She started to think the show could actually be fun.

Until she remembers that’s what she thought about Total Drama Island, back when she was sixteen, and had no idea what was in store for her. Then, the dread consumes her. But she’s already signed the contract, and Alejandro is absurdly excited, so Courtney tries to convince herself that the race is nothing to worry about, especially not with her best friend by her side, her best friend who has absolutely no motive to stab her in the back, unlike other people in the past, and Courtney’s almost managed to convince herself it’ll all be okay by the time they’ve arrived in Toronto.

Still, as they amass with their thirty four fellow competitors, Courtney says, “This is a terrible idea.”

“It’ll be fine,” Alejandro says, but Courtney can see what she’s certain nobody else in the vicinity can—that his smile is rather forced. “I’ve seen Don host other shows, he’s not nearly as ruthless as Chris.”

“A rabid jaguar isn’t as ruthless as Chris. And I would know.”

“…How?”

“I had to put a lei on one during this stupid Aftermath challenge. Won you that wheelbarrow for the finale, remember?”

“I try not to,” Alejandro says, and Courtney silently berates herself for bringing that up. There’s plenty from Total Drama World Tour that they avoid mentioning—the cheating fiasco that humiliated Courtney, how badly Alejandro got duped at the very end. Even the weird little situationship they had going on when they really wanted to be kissing other people is only brought up when Alejandro and Courtney are wine drunk, or just really in the mood to make fun of themselves, neither of which is often. But the volcanic eruption is high on the list of topics to avoid. They don’t need any reminders of the outcome, seeing as there are two frequent ones in the form of Alejandro’s scarred legs.

“Is that Owen?”

Courtney squints. “Where?”

“How do you miss someone as big as Owen?”

“There are a lot of people here, sabelotodo.”

“Just to the left of that really buff guy—that’s Owen, waving at us.”

“Oh. Huh.”

Owen, looking fairly similar to how Courtney last saw him, is enthusiastically waving in their direction. Next to him, Noah scowls, and then Courtney spots a familiar cowboy hat, and its familiar wearer. Geoff is chatting with a guy who looks pretty much exactly how Courtney would expect one of Geoff’s friends to look. They certainly won’t be a threat in this competition. 

“Are Owen and Noah competing together?” Courtney asks.

“That wouldn’t surprise me,” Alejandro says, with a strange undertone Courtney can’t quite place. “They made quite an obnoxious pair, back on Team Chris.”

“You think we have to worry about them in the race?”

“…No.”

Alejandro keeps looking in their direction with an odd expression, so Courtney tugs him closer to the starting line.

Courtney has to admit, the arguments Alejandro had made in favor of this show’s format are only being reinforced as Don sends them off in the first leg of the race. Of all the teams here, Courtney can count at least half a dozen she’s certain won’t have a chance in making it remotely far. 

“Why are Geoff and his friend running with a trash can on their heads?” Alejandro calls. He and Courtney have stayed solidly in the middle-front of the pack sprinting toward the tower, but Geoff and the other surfer dude had kept pace with them. Even with—Courtney glances back—a trash can on their heads.

“Do you expect me to have an answer?”

Once they reach the Don Box, it only takes one shared look to determine that the Best Friends (a bland name, but more respectable than the Villainous Vultures) are taking the elevator. Courtney knows she could handle the stairs, but it certainly wouldn’t be easy for Alejandro’s legs, and besides, whatever scare Don throws at them will be small potatoes, because they were on Total Drama, for heaven’s sake.

The only other people inside the elevator are the Fashion Bloggers—Tom and Jen, Alejandro supplies, because he’s on top of that kind of stuff—who explain that someone already pushed every single button, but hey, they figure this will still be faster than the stairs. Courtney and Alejandro agree, Courtney certain that Alejandro is both annoyed and impressed that someone else thought to sabotage the elevator-takers so swiftly yet effectively.

Tom and Jen chatter inanely on the slow ride up, Alejandro occasionally joining in.

“Oh, Alejandro, I love the boots. The whole look, really,” Jen says. “Would you be interested in doing a little interview for our fashion blog?”

“After the race, of course,” Tom adds.

“Play nice, and your answer is a resounding yes.” Alejandro winks charmingly, sending Tom and Jen tittering while Courtney represses a huff. They’re here to win, not make friends. They already have each other, who else do they need? 

When she realizes that, duh, Alejandro is probably just playing a social game, as he often does, Courtney’s annoyance fades. It turns into something smug when they reach the top of the tower, the first teams to do so, and the Bloggers are petrified at the thought of a little skywalk.

“Ready?” Alejandro extends his arm to Courtney.

“This is gonna be a piece of cake.”

The wind is strong, but not as strong as the wind rushing in through the open door of the Jumbo Jet (that Courtney sincerely hopes is smoldering in hell) was. They take it slow and steady (because that wins the race, Courtney thinks wryly) and a few more teams, including the Bloggers, trail behind them, but she and Alejandro remain in the lead. Courtney hears screaming and turns to find Noah, ready to blow away in the wind and holding onto Owen for dear life. She exchanges a look of equal amusement, concern, and bafflement with Alejandro. And then they’re done, stepping inside, only to zip line down to the airport. Where they book seats on the first plane, of course.

As do Noah and Owen, the latter of which waves at them again and calls, “Courtney! Al!”

Alejandro’s eye twitches, and Courtney resigns herself to an irritating conversation as Owen drags Noah over.

“I gotta say, I didn’t expect to see you guys here!” Owen chirps. He’s incessantly cheerful. Courtney will never understand. “Actually, I had no idea there’d be any Total Drama people here.”

“Well, we certainly weren’t expecting to see you two either,” Courtney says. 

“Oh, Noah and I have been doing a bunch of shows these past years! Meltdown Kitchen, Scare Tractor, Fashionista Flip Flop—”

“Again, I don’t know how we booked that one,” Noah says. “Or how we got so far.”

Partially because she’s annoyed her more social half hasn’t jumped into the conversation yet, and partially just because she wants to tease him, Courtney asks, “Alejandro, haven’t I caught you watching Fashionista Flip Flop when thought I wasn’t home?”

“You most certainly did not,” Alejandro replies indignantly.

“Yes I did, because you’re a reality TV fan in denial.”

“I am not, and don’t act like I haven’t caught you watching Ace Attorney play-through videos—”

Courtney claps a hand over Alejandro’s mouth.

Noah snorts. “Courtney? Watching Ace Attorney play-throughs?”

“You have no evidence.”

“Witness testimony.”

“He’s unreliable.”

Alejandro makes a muffled noise of protest.

“Well, I can’t argue with that,” Noah says, giving Alejandro an unimpressed look before turning to Owen. “C’mon, let’s see if this airport sells horse tranquilizers. Or anything else to get you through an eight hour flight—I haven’t ruled out frying pans.”

“Oh, Chris tried that once. Didn’t work. Good catching up with you guys!” Owen calls over his shoulder as the two set off.

“They don’t seem like they’ve changed much,” Courtney says, and it’s not until he raises an eyebrow at her that she remembers she still has a hand over his mouth. “Right, sorry.”

“I don’t like them.”

“You sure weren’t winking at that team.”

“As if I would ever. Why, are you jealous?”

She lightly whacks his shoulder at such a preposterous notion. “What did we say about the manipulation?”

“Keep it to a minimum, because villains never win these shows, I know. I’ve lived it.”

“We both lived it.”

“Some more harshly than the other.”

“I thought we weren’t talking about the vol—”

“We’re not, we’re not.” Alejandro runs a hand through his hair. “And besides, I wasn’t manipulating Tom and Jen. Just… preventing them from becoming enemies down the road. Not that I think they’ll be on this show for long.”

“Honestly, a good half of these teams don’t even stand a chance. Owen and Noah included.”

“I wouldn’t be so quick to underestimate them.”

“Why, because they made it somewhat far on Fashionista Flip Flop?”

“They got third, actually, so I—”

“So I did catch you watching the show,” Courtney says smugly.

“Ugh, fine, I admit it.”

“Victory is sweet.”

“Slow down, conejita, we haven’t finished the first race yet. What I was going to say is that, while Noah and Owen were fairly incompetent fools I had to carry back on Team Chris, and I don’t think they’re a serious threat now, they’ve stepped up their game. Owen is ready to throw himself into any kind of challenge, no matter how dangerous, disgusting, or humiliating. Noah is nowhere as enthusiastic as him, but he still consistently puts in effort, which is more than I got from him back on the same team. He’s also incredibly observant and is able to pick up on other contestants’ schemes and hidden desires to an impressive degree. What’s even more impressive is how half the time, he’s actually able to thwart them. Though his sharp tongue and Owen’s lack of brain is what usually get them booted, if the eliminations are based on votes rather than skill.”

“…Híjole, how many episodes of Fashionista Flip Flop did you watch?”

Alejandro groans. “It’s not my fault those two managed to fumble their way onto a reality show I enjoy!”

“Aww, I’m proud of you.”

“¿Por qué?”

“You just came out to me as a reality TV fan.”

“I hate you.”

“Go cry to Owen and Noah about it.”

“I will do no such thing.”

Courtney and Alejandro don’t see the so-called Reality TV Pros until they’re boarding the plane, along with the Daters, Police Cadets, Ice Dancers, and surprisingly enough, the Father and Son team. Frankly, Courtney doesn’t know how they made it to the first flight, neither one seems particularly capable. She’s sure they won’t last long. Her train of thought is interrupted by the strange mundanity of boarding a commercial flight as part of a reality show. Okay, maybe it’s not strictly a commercial flight if only contestants and the crew have tickets, but it’s still weird to sit in a proper plane seat and hear pre-flight announcements when they’re in a race for a million dollars.

As the plane begins to taxi down the runway, Alejandro nudges her. “It’s actually been pretty easy so far. You know, for a reality show. Maybe… this wasn’t such a—”

“Terrible idea,” Courtney says. “Your worst idea yet.”

“Worse than dating Heather for a month?”

“No, yeah, that was pretty bad.”

Having experienced (and failed to repress) the hell of Total Drama World Tour, Courtney and Alejandro are able to tap into their old training of falling asleep quickly on flights. When Courtney passes Noah and Owen to use the bathroom, she sees that they have done the same, Owen clutching a teddy bear for some reason. She wonders briefly if Noah was able to find something to knock Owen out or if he just fell asleep on his own.

Soon enough, they’ve landed in Morocco, which is sweltering, and Courtney is grateful that she’s already learned her lesson and is wearing a cardigan she can easily unbutton and tie around her waist. She and Alejandro are some of the first people to make it to the spice kiosk, where they quickly pick out four spices and then proceed to agonize over the fifth. Well, Courtney agonizes, and  Alejandro points at a random rusty-colored powder that doesn’t smell too spicy and says, “Let’s bag it. At this point it’s more about speed than accuracy.”

“But if it’s wrong—”

“If it’s wrong, it won’t matter, because there are a dozen teams behind us and they aren’t all going to get every single spice correct.”

“Fine,” Courtney grouches, though she’s more annoyed by now having to ride a smelly camel than by Alejandro’s logic. He knows her well enough by now to understand that. “Remember that camel Izzy claimed she could talk to?”

“Claimed? She absolutely could speak to that thing! Or give it directions, at the very least.”

“You can’t seriously think people can talk to animals.”

“I calmed that rabid panda in Japan, didn’t I? Animals like me.”

“Then tell our camel to go faster.”

“I’m not Izzy.” 

Even with their distinct lack of camel whispering, Courtney and Alejandro make it to the desert restaurant second only to the Police Cadets.”

“I’m eating the stew,” Courtney says, at the same time Alejandro declares, “You’re eating the stew.”

So she does. Despite the heat, she chugs it, unsure of whether Alejandro picked the last spice incorrectly or if the intended stew was always supposed to be this spicy. Alejandro watches Courtney slurp with a healthy mix of awe and disgust.

“Done!”

“Let’s go!”

They run through the desert. It’s strange to think this challenge is almost over, it’s been so long, but Courtney’s still waiting for the challenging part. The only struggle she’s having is with the oppressive heat and the strongly spiced stew sloshing around in her stomach. She stops once to dry heave over a cactus, but thankfully the stew doesn’t make a reappearance, and the nausea passes. She and Alejandro keep running, and keep running, and the truly challenging part of the challenge never comes, but the Chill Zone does, getting closer and closer with every footfall. And then they’re screeching to a halt atop a golden carpet.

“Welcome to the Chill Zone, Best Friends! You’re the first team to arrive—congrats!”

“Yes!” Courtney cheers. She pulls Alejandro into a sweaty hug, because when was the last time she ever won something like this? “We did it!”

“Still think this is a terrible idea?”

“Oh, shut up and be happy.”

Don (who Courtney doesn’t hate yet, but she’s had enough experience with Chris to feel assured it won’t be long until she fantasizes about punching his teeth in) shoos them to the side, saying that other teams will be coming soon and that they need to be out of the shot. The crew hustles them into a trailer to film confessionals, which is… weird, being in something nicer than a cramped outhouse, with another person, and having a crew member giving them prompts for what they’re calling interviews, not confessionals. Alejandro is happy to take the lead, charismatically rattling off answers to the origins of their duo—they’d reconnected after ending up in the same required university class and got an apartment together for the next school year—and thoughts on the challenge, which Courtney calls a walk in the park and Alejandro praises Courtney’s iron stomach. Though she’s pretty sure he’s less impressed by her skills and more just grateful that he didn’t have to eat that stew.

Once half of the competition arrives and goes through their interviews, they’re herded onto a (thankfully air conditioned) bus that will take them to a hotel, which Courtney can hardly believe. They get to stay in an actual hotel. With them on the top half of today’s leaderboard are the Cadets, Ice Dancers, Daters—not much of a surprise there—Geniuses, Tennis Rivals (frankly, Courtney is surprised the old guys simply survived the challenge), Surfer Dudes, and Reality TV Pros. The latter two teams are excitedly talking, or rather, Geoff, his buddy, and Owen are excitedly talking while Noah just looks bored. Geoff is saying something about a group dinner later tonight, and when he catches Courtney’s eye, she thinks he’s going to invite her for a brief moment, but then his eyes slide to Alejandro. Geoff’s face hardens, and he turns back to the group. Which is fine, because it’s not like Courtney had been expecting an invitation. She’s not friends with Geoff anymore. She’s friends with Alejandro, and he’s the only friend she needs.

So when they reach their hotel room, Courtney and Alejandro lounge about, taking turns showering the sand and sweat off of themselves. They go out to a quiet dinner at a reasonable hour, and are back in bed fairly early, as they know for a fact the next challenge is tomorrow. It’s so strange, Courtney thinks, to know that a challenge is looming on the horizon and to not feel dread or fear or resentment. She’s kind of excited, because it felt awesome to so thoroughly win their very first challenge, and even though a part of her is waiting for the other shoe to drop, there’s a steady confidence thrumming in her chest that she and Alejandro can tackle whatever comes next and emerge triumphant.

It’s dark in their hotel room, and Alejandro is gently snoring in the bed next to Courtney’s. She wants to record it, because he’s so insistent that he doesn’t snore, and Courtney’s secretly been hoping for the chance to prove him wrong, but part of the show was giving up their phones for the duration of their time in the competition, so she can’t. Which is fine, because she’s not Sierra, and she can absolutely handle a few weeks without her phone. It’s just frustrating, because she can’t record Alejandro’s snoring and then tease him about it tomorrow. But it’s because he’s asleep and snoring that she feels comfortable whispering into the night,

“Okay, maybe this wasn’t such a terrible idea.”

Chapter Text

At seven in the morning, some hapless crew member is sent to bang on Courtney and Alejandro’s hotel room door—and if she thought about it further, probably every contestant’s door, but Courtney is too irritated by the fact that she already had an alarm set, thank you very much, to think further on it. Shortly after, she and Alejandro head down for breakfast. A few teams are already there: the stouter Police Cadet—MacArthur, Courtney reminds herself, because she really needs to get better at learning people’s names if she’s going to compete against them—is shoveling down sausages while her partner looks on in disgust, Owen is shoveling down everything while Noah grips a mug of coffee and stares into it like he wants nothing more than to cease to exist simply so he wouldn’t have to be up this early, the Ice Dancers are eating fruit, the Daters are feeding each other, and some woman Courtney doesn’t remember seeing earlier is buttering toast and reading a heavy book in between bites. Her back is to Courtney, so all she can see is the woman’s glossy black hair, and Courtney doesn’t care to investigate further. Instead, she banks on Owen being too focused on breakfast to pull her into an unending conversation when she stops by the Pros’ table to ask Noah, “Do you know who got eliminated?”

Noah stares into his coffee for a solid ten seconds before her words finally register. “Oh. Pretty sure it was those LARPers. I like D&D as much as the next guy, but those two were just weird.”

“Yeah, sure, thanks,” Courtney says, before hustling back to her table. At it, Alejandro is shooting her curious looks, which abate when she explains what Noah told her. Then he’s staring silently at the Pros, which is quite annoying seeing as Courtney wanted to spend the rest of breakfast talking strategy with him. Though she eventually figures that maybe it’s a bit too early for that, seeing as they’ve only just learned how the show works. 

After breakfast, the contestants are driven out to yesterday’s Chill Zone, where Courtney and Alejandro disembark to collect the first tip. It’s an act that earns them several wistful looks and a few glares Courtney can feel burning into the back of her head. Whatever. It’s a competition, and nobody’s here to make friends. Well, except for maybe Geoff, who’s chatting a mile a minute with a tall, pigtailed girl—Kitty, Courtney overhears—when Courtney and Alejandro leave. Once cued by Don’s spiel, Alejandro grabs the tip and announces, “We’re going to Paris!”

“Here’s hoping they don’t set a yeti loose on us in the Louvre again. Or a bear. Or a seriously angry baby seal.”

“Nah, I’m pretty sure we’re going to the Eiffel Tower.”

“Um, what?” Don asks, extremely concerned by Courtney’s comment. “A yeti loose in the—actually, no, we don’t have time to unpack that. I’ve got a show to run.”

Courtney thinks that’s a fair response. A brief argument ensues about which of the Best Friends gets to drive their moped—Alejandro is a terrible driver, but he wins after he points out that the last time Courtney drove in the desert, she steered a bus right off a cliff.

“That was your fault, though,” she says as they speed down the street.

“How was that my fault?”

“You were trying to bump us off the road!”

“I seem to recall you starting that.”

“Did not.”

“Well, you used a slingshot to cover the front window in chocolate and I still kept the bus going!”

“That wasn’t a slingshot, it was Leshawna’s bra.”

Alejandro turns around and gives Courtney a horrified look. “Why?” 

“Eyes on the road!”

Honk! Honk!

The Police Cadets and the Ice Dancers quickly speed ahead of the Best Friends’ moped, but thankfully, they all make it to the airport at roughly the same time. Which means they end up on the first flight together, along with the Reality TV Pros, Daters, Tennis Rivals, Surfers, and Geniuses. Or, they would end up on the first flight together, if it wasn’t delayed six hours. At least every flight is delayed, due to some kind of sandstorm, so Courtney and Alejandro amuse themselves by wandering through the overpriced airport stores and deciding what ridiculous souvenirs they would buy with the million dollars. At one point, they run into Don, who asks for the story of the yeti (and bear, and seriously angry baby seal) loose in the Louvre, which the Best Friends eagerly tell until Don walks away muttering, “Interesting…” and then they immediately regret giving him any ideas for upcoming challenges.

For lunch, they find Moroccan food that Courtney can guarantee is much better than yesterday’s stew, and then they nap at their gate until it’s time for their flight. Which is only three hours, but the sky is dark when they finally touch down in Paris. A combination of Alejandro’s good looks, passable French, and Courtney enthusiastic waving quickly gets them a taxi to the Eiffel Tower, but much to his and Courtney’s displeasure, the other teams on the first flight aren’t far behind. Courtney snatches up a Travel Tip, reads it, and prays Alejandro can draw well. If she’d been doing this challenge with Gwen, she knows—

—and Courtney cuts herself off from that line of thinking, because Gwen has no place in her brain. In her life. Not anymore. She made that choice.

Somehow, Geoff and his buddy (whose name Courtney still doesn’t know but doesn’t care enough about to learn) are the first team done, which definitely puts Alejandro in a mood if his furious scribbling is anything to judge by. He only gets more animated when the Police Cadets finish and Kitty sets up next to him, meaning the second plane has landed. Kitty’s partner in the race—her sister? Courtney thinks she might’ve heard something along those lines—stands a few meters to Courtney’s left side. She’s too focused on posing to get more than a glimpse of the woman from her peripheral vision. Most of her face is obscured by a large book, one Courtney had seen earlier in the hotel breakfast area.

Cheerfully beginning her drawing, Kitty asks, “So, are you dating anyone new at university?”

“Yeah. His name’s International and Comparative Antitrust Law Curriculum.”

Completely missing Kitty’s inane response, Courtney whips her head around. Because she recognizes that voice. That’s the voice of her class rival, who’d always compete with Courtney to give the first and best answer to every question. Who silently fought with her to be their professor’s favorite. Who provided the closest thing to a true competition Courtney has been craving for quite some time. Who is currently standing next to her, reading their required textbook for next year’s class, competing on the Ridonculous Race.

Before Courtney can speak to the sheer absurdity of her discovery, the Sisters are being positioned by the camera crew for a brief interview. Her class rival (Courtney can’t believe she didn’t recognize her sooner, she’s spent enough time in class fuming over the woman’s quick thinking and long hair because what could she possibly do to make it that shiny) looks extremely unhappy with their progress on the challenge being interrupted, and Courtney can’t blame her. She misses what the crew says to start off the interview, but Kitty’s voice is loud and clear.

“Emma’s always been the serious one, but ever since her boyfriend Jake broke up with her three years ago, she’s been super—”

“Fine! I’ve been super fine. And I don’t need a boyfriend. I need a law degree, and I need my kid sister to focus on the game.”

“And a boyfriend.”

“Ugh!”

Emma. Courtney turns the name over in her head. It’s silly, how she’s never known the woman’s name—or maybe she just never paid enough attention until now, too busy trying to outsmart her in class. Emma, Emma, Emma—

“What?” Emma asks, and Courtney realizes that one of those Emmas might’ve accidentally been out loud. Oops. But it doesn’t matter, because Emma has turned to Courtney and is gaping at her. “What are you doing here?”

“What am I doing here? What are you doing here?”

Kitty glances between the two. “Am I missing something?”

“She’s in my pre-law program,” Courtney and Emma chorus, before frowning at one another.

“My, my, dos abogaditas?” Alejandro asks.

Courtney flips him off.

“That’s not your proper position, my muse.”

Courtney flips him off again, and then settles back into her pose.

“Did he just call me a bad name?” Emma asks.

“I just called you a lawyer,” Alejandro says, “except I used the cuter version I reserve only for Courtney. She claims to hate it, but I’m certain she’s jealous right now.”

“I do hate it, and I’m not jealous. Just shocked that she’s here.”

“Ditto.”

Kitty gasps. “Oh my God, are you two friends?”

“No!”

“Aw, bummer. Emma could use some friends.”

“Kitty,” Emma complains. 

“You know it’s true!”

“No, it’s not. The only thing I need is to win a million dollars and pass the bar exam. Preferably in that order.”

“Same here,” Courtney says. “Except only one of us can win the million, and it’s going to be me.”

“Good luck winning with a partner who won’t even draw.”

Turning back to Alejandro, Courtney finds his hands still and his attention elsewhere. Following his gaze, Courtney find Noah and the French artist laughing up a storm over… whatever Noah drew of Owen. Alejandro looks curious, but a pointedly clearing of her throat has him back to drawing Courtney, who glances over at the Sisters. 

Emma is back to posing with her book, telling Kitty, “It needs at least four exaggerations to be a caricature.”

“I have way more than that.”

“Done,” Alejandro announces. After a triumphant grin toward a scowling Emma, Courtney races alongside him to the judge. He approves Alejandro’s drawing of Courtney, complete with an extremely angular power stance, massively wide eyes, big curly hair, and an abundance of freckles. She’s standing atop the world, ready to conquer it. It’s a good drawing, but way too detailed for a caricature challenge, something Courtney promptly informs Alejandro of as they descend into the catacombs.

“I can’t help it. I’m a perfectionist when it comes to art.”

“You made us look weak in front of Emma.”

“We’re not weak,” Alejandro protests, “and what’s the deal with her, anyway? You two are in law classes together, but you hate one another? How come I haven’t heard of this?”

“I didn’t even know she was on the show until just then. I didn’t even know her name before.”

“But you knew her.”

“As my class rival—it was kind of an unspoken thing. Like, trying to answer the questions first and best, competing for top test scores, you know.”

“I don’t, actually. I’ve always been too far ahead in my classes for anyone to seriously challenge my standing as the top student.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Courtney says, biting back a yelp as she comes face to face with a wall of skulls. “This place is creepy, let’s get out as soon as possible.”

“Here, I’m pretty sure this path leads to an exit.”

“How do you know your way around the catacombs?”

“I’ve been here before. Not on purpose.”

“Lo siento, how do you accidentally know your way around the catacombs?”

Alejandro grimaces. “My brother and I once accompanied my father here on a business trip once. To Paris, not to the catacombs. But José tricked me into coming down here and I got hopelessly lost, it was awful.”

“Just so you know, my offer to seriously maim your brother still stands.”

“You say that whenever I mention him.”

“Because I’m always willing to beat him up for you.”

Leading her down a decrepit path, Alejandro chuckles, and that makes Courtney feel slightly better, despite the dim lighting and bone chilling decor. They wander through the twists and turns, passing the Goths (who are doing an interview) and briefly getting a whiff of a truly awful smell—Owen, or a sewer, if Courtney had to guess—until they finally find the exit, complete with massive cheese wheels and oars. And a sign that helpfully informs them they’ll be racing to the Louvre. Courtney and Alejandro shoot each other a look that means, Don better have not set any wild animals loose in there, and then quickly hop atop their cheese wheel floating in the water, as a horde of competitors arrive.

Once they begin paddling, Courtney yells, “Stroke, stoke, stroke!” to keep time, and Alejandro gracefully obliges. They finish fourth, which isn’t bad, just not particularly exciting when they’ve already won first and Geoff of all people beat them to the Chill Zone. This time, Don has the finished teams stand around outside of the shot, watching as more and more people arrive. The Sisters get tenth, and Courtney shoots Emma a smirk and a wave, to which she responds with a raised eyebrow.

“You beat us this time, but don’t think this is going to last.”

“What’d you two get?” Kitty asks. Courtney’s not sure if she’s completely blind to the obvious animosity between her and Emma, or if she’s just trying to smooth over the tension. Either way, Courtney replies, “Fourth.”

Alejandro sighs innocently. “It’s rather disappointing, really, seeing as we placed first the last challenge. We really can’t allow ourselves to slack like this.”

Grumbling, Emma marches away, dragging Kitty along with her.

Later, in their interview for the night, Courtney will ask, “You said that to piss her off, didn’t you?”

“But of course.”

“Ha! You’re the best.”

But in the present, Courtney just grins, as the Reality TV Pros dash to the Chill Zone… strangely without their cheese wheel. 

Things get stranger when Don declares, “And if it isn’t Noah and his Ark—twenty minute penalty.”

“There are penalties?” Courtney whisper-exclaims to Alejandro.

Owen seems similarly shocked. “Wha—why?”

“Because the challenge was to sail the cheese down the river.”

“But it’s inside me. I am cheese!”

“That you are, kooky. Now step aside and hope you aren’t the last to place.”

“He ate the cheese?” Courtney asks. “The entire wheel?”

“It’s Owen,” Alejandro replies.

“I know, but the entire wheel—”

“He ate Team Chris’ sausage in Germany, remember? Size is no factor for him.”

“True,” Courtney says, and then, “this probably sounds really weird out of context.”

“It does,” MacArthur calls, “but I respect your appreciation for a man who can eat!”

Sanders just sighs.

The challenge ends with the painfully slow Tennis Rivals in a race against the Reality TV Pros’ penalty timer. The latter ends up winning, the former are sent home, and Don closes out the show as Noah and Owen slump over in relief. Contestants start loading into buses to be taken to their hotel. But Alejandro lingers by the Chill Zone, until Courtney finally says, “Okay, what’s up?”

“Hmm? Nothing.”

“You’re staring at Owen and Noah.”

“I’m not staring,” Alejandro says, ripping his gaze from the two.

“Uh, yeah, you totally were. Why?”

“I was just… surprised, is all, that they were so nearly eliminated.”

“Yeah, well, they’re not much of a threat, remember?”

“Of course I do,” he says, and it’s not long until that the Best Friends are in their hotel room, crashing for the night.

However, before they fall asleep completely, Courtney asks Alejandro, “You wanna try and visit the Louvre tomorrow?”

He throws a pillow at her.

Chapter Text

There’s no time to try and visit the Louvre, because Alejandro and Courtney are woken up even earlier to get started on the next challenge. Ugh. The Police Cadets get the first Travel Tip, the Ice Dancers get the second after trying and failing to weasel their way to the first (it’s just inelegant execution on their part, Alejandro thinks), the Surfer Dudes get the third, and Courtney snatches up the fourth tip only to have a mime grab it and run away. Courtney screeches indignantly and gives chase, leaving Alejandro to wait at the Don Box beside the Father and Son team—both named Dwayne, if he remembers correctly.

“She sure is beating up that mime, huh?” the son asks.

“Oh, Courtney’s got quite a vicious streak,” Alejandro says. Little Dwayne pales at that, and Alejandro feels kind of bad for scaring a middle-schooler, so he pats his shoulder and adds, “Don’t worry, I won’t let her do anything like that to you.”

He’s just trying to reassure the kid, because he’s a kid and clearly new to the depths of reality TV and the indomitable strength of Courtney. It’s not like it would do Alejandro any harm to act kind, as this kid and his possibly senile father are no real threat. Plus, being good with kids makes him look good, and Alejandro can use as much positive publicity as he can get after his time on Total Drama. But Alejandro thinks he might’ve been too charming, because now Little Dwayne is blushing and stammering his thanks. Ticket finally in hand, Courtney grabs Alejandro’s wrist and runs off.

“I think I might’ve unintentionally been that kid’s gay awakening,” Alejandro tells her.

“Hey, there are worse ways for it to happen.”

“Like Gwen saving you from an evil deer?”

Courtney attempts to flick his ear. Alejandro ducks, and then immediately regrets it because he’s just made himself an easier target for his shorter friend. He accepts his fate, and Courtney gives his ear a light thwap! 

“Gay awakening or not, it doesn’t matter, because I’ve sworn off dating.”

“Since when did—”

“Less talking, more calling a cab.”

Alejandro glances to the street, where MacArthur is yelling at a massive pileup. “Uh…”

“Change of plans, we’re taking a subway to the train station.”

“Why are we going to the train station?”

“To get us to Calanque de Maubois. That’s where the next tip is.”

“Do we have to buy a train ticket? Or a subway ticket?” 

“…Crap, I don’t know. I should’ve mugged that mime when I had the chance.”

“You shouldn’t mug a mime, Courtney.”

“He mugged me first!”

“Still, mugging a mime is some Duncan shit, and you’re better than that.”

Courtney snorts as they make their way underground. The subway ride is swift, and soon enough they’re boarding the train alongside the Ice Dancers, Police Cadets, Surfer Dudes, and Father and Son.

“So,” Alejandro says, “you’ve sworn off of dating.”

“Yeah.”

“And here I thought you were just focusing on your schoolwork.”

“I’m always focusing on my schoolwork.”

“Fair enough, but—really? No more dating, ever?”

“Nope. It never ends well. Not with Duncan, not with Scott, not with… well, I wasn’t ever dating Gwen.”

“You literally got drunk at that New Year’s party and I had to take you home so you could cry into your ice cream about how things ended with Gwen. That counts as a breakup.”

“That champagne had no right being as alcoholic as it was.”

“It was literally normal champagne, you’re just enough of a lightweight that a few glasses had you talking about Gwen’s hair for an hour.”

“Okay, fine, the whole Gwen situation counts as a bad breakup. Further adding to my argument about how me dating is a terrible idea.”

“So one bad experience not even really dating Gwen means you’ve lost hope that any woman could possibly be a good girlfriend to you? Because assuming all women are the same isn’t very feminist of you, Courtney.”

This time, he knows to stand up quickly so she can’t reach his ear, and she glares at Alejandro’s shit-eating grin. Then she slides down in her seat, and Alejandro just barely manages to yelp, “Legs are off limits!” in time for her to retract her foot that was no doubt poised for a sharp kick to his shins. She sits back up in her seat, and he sits back down.

“I just think you should at least try to get back on the horse,” Alejandro says casually. “I’m not saying you have to be a serial dater, just… don’t completely close yourself off to the possibility. Relationships on reality TV are a lot different than ones in real life.”

“Trust me, I know. I dated Duncan for a year off camera.”

“When you were sixteen.”

“Seventeen.”

“Either way, it’s been a while, and—”

“Just lay off it, okay? Having a… nice, normal relationship—if that’s even possible—isn’t going to fix me.”

“I never said anything about fixing you.”

“Whatever,” Courtney says sourly, and Alejandro doesn’t want to get into a fight (in general, but especially this early into the show) so he reaches across the table and grabs her hand.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to push. Or bring up bad memories. Are we cool?”

“We’re cool.”

Across the train car, Alejandro notices Geoff giving the two of them… an odd look, but he doesn’t have time to dwell on it as the doors slide open.

“Vamos, we’re still in a race!”

The next challenge is a Botch of Watch, and though Alejandro has to admit it’s a tad unfair that one team member has to chug stew and swim with sharks while the other one only has to draw, he’s immensely grateful that it’s Courtney facing the sharks and not him, as she simply snorts, declaring, “This is amateur hour!” and marches toward the water. While Courtney certainly doesn’t have any issues with not getting eaten by sharks, as she punches at least three in the nose, it’s taking ages for her to get the Travel Tip. Josee snatches the first ticket Courtney goes for, then the second ticket floats away only to be grabbed by Dwayne Sr., and the third shark somehow manages to swallow its ticket. By the time the final train arrives, Courtney still hasn’t gotten a ticket. To be fair, only the Police Cadets and Ice Dancers—who have proven themselves to be quite worthy competitors so far—have started on the next challenge, but Alejandro detests losing the lead he once had.

“Oh, you have got to be kidding me,” Alejandro mutters, as Dwayne paddles to shore with a Travel Tip, splashing several Watchers of the Botchers in the process.

“Brilliant,” Noah deadpans, saltwater dripping down his face. “I just love Paris in the springtime.”

Alejandro can’t help but snort at that, even as one of the Geniuses gives them a weird look.

“Actually, we’re not in Paris anymore—”

“—and it’s the summer,” the other Genius chimes in.

“Oui, my friends,” Alejandro says, and Noah gives him something close to an approving nod before turning back to the ocean.

It’s exceedingly odd.

Alejandro knows he hasn’t been… entirely subtle, in his observation of the Reality TV Pros, but he can’t help himself. Part of it’s their new competitive edge. They’d always been followers, not leaders, back on Team Chris (though it’s hard not to be a follower when Alejandro takes charge), and while they hadn’t been complete blundering fools, Owen had never been particularly competent, and Noah had never tried particularly hard. But Alejandro has seen them on an embarrassing amount of reality television shows since then, and they… have an unusual grit to them. Well, Noah is the determined one, while Owen is as enthusiastic as ever, but still it’s so strange to observe. Because Alejandro never got that from Noah on World Tour. Glimpses of it, sure, but not many. 

That’s what’s also making this odd. Noah. Quite frankly, Alejandro doesn’t know what to make of his former teammate. He thought he had Noah all figured out two years ago—snarky and book-smart, enough so to hold actual intelligent conversations that genuinely stimulated Alejandro, while not caring enough about the competition to catch onto Alejandro’s dark side. Too blind to see anything other than the facade. But it was he who got blindsided, as Noah renounced Alejandro’s trustworthiness and the genuine friendship he thought they shared. 

Because Alejandro really did think they were friends. He figured (or even hoped?) that if Noah did manage to see the facade for what it was, that he would be too disinterested in the competition (and too interested in Alejandro) to call him out for his slippery tendencies. That was a miscalculation on Alejandro’s part. But he and Noah just… never addressed it beyond the confrontation immediately followed by Noah’s elimination. So Alejandro has no idea how to act around the guy, and he hates not knowing.

Are they supposed to be civil with one another? Friendly, and making muttered, sly jokes to one another in between challenges as they once did? Or does Noah just hate him? Perhaps he feels indifference, and mild annoyance, which would make the most sense, seeing as it’s Noah, but Alejandro just has a hard time reading him. Obviously.

Whatever the case, Alejandro vows to not let on that he’s seen Noah (and Owen, but who cares?) in over a dozen different reality shows. Because if Courtney’s teasing over Fashionista Flip Flop is anything to go by, that will truly humiliating.

Owen emerges from the water with a Travel Tip, and he and Noah start jogging down the beach. 

“I think our sisters hate each other,” Kitty says, strolling up to Alejandro. He’s too distracted by squinting at Courtney and Emma tussling over a Travel Tip to fully register Kitty’s words for a good ten seconds.

“Courtney’s not my sister.”

“She’s not? Oops, sorry. You guys just have that kind of vibe.”

“That’s actually quite endearing to hear, seeing as we’ve only been close friends for about a year.”

“Dang, really? If you two weren’t siblings, I was gonna guess childhood besties to young adult lovers.”

“I’m afraid you are sorely mistaken,” Alejandro says, as a wave smacks Courtney in the face. Emma snags the Travel Tip, and begins swimming to shore. Growling, Courtney punches the nearest shark and rips off the ticket. “Though we did sort of date before we became friends.”

“That, I want to hear about,” Kitty says, before getting dragged away by Emma. A sopping wet Courtney soon makes it to dry land, yelling something about sandcastles that Alejandro already knows because there are a handful of teams behind him starting on the next challenge.

“I’m gonna be picking sand out from under my nails for weeks,” Alejandro groans, as he and Courtney start on their sandcastle. They’re not the first to finish (thanks to Alejandro’s artistic perfectionism) but they’re still within the top five, and soon they’re zipping off to Iceland on a speedboat. A speedboat Alejandro is begging doesn’t have any motor issues after the disaster that was the All Stars regatta challenge, and seeing as how things turned out for Courtney back then, he’s guessing she feels similarly. So of course their engine totally craps out and has them limping along, trying not to get last place.

“I’m going to kill Chris,” Courtney says.

“Wrong host.”

“I’m going to kill Don.”

“That’s better.”

“You think I should get out and kick?”

“No, that’s too dangerous with the blades.” The Reality TV Pros speed by them, and Alejandro wants to swear. “How are they ahead of us? We got to the beach first! We got the tip first! How—”

“A little less whining, a little more paddling,” Courtney says, one hand on the wheel and one hand in the water. Alejandro obliges, though he’s certain it doesn’t make a difference. More and more teams are zooming ahead of them. “Oh, for the love of—”

Courtney gets up and starts beating the engine with her bare fists. Which has to hurt. Especially when a jolt of electricity shoots through her, but Alejandro is too elated by the boat’s burst of speed to think rationally. “Courtney, that worked! Do it again!”

“And get zapped? No thanks. Let me just—” Courtney takes off her shoe, wedges it in between a few wires, and suddenly their boat is at its full speed again. “Yes!”

“¡Hala!” Alejandro shouts. “We’re still in this!”

They end up placing tenth, just behind the Sisters, of which Emma looks smug. And then confused, when she notices how Courtney’s curls are sticking out all over the place. “What happened to you?”

“Technical problems with the boat—the only reason we placed so low,” Courtney says primly, before frowning at Kitty. She’s taking a selfie with Jen. “Hey, how come she has a phone? I thought we weren’t allowed them in the competition.”

“We’re not. It’s some janky old model that doesn’t have any use besides taking pictures. Producers let her have it to really play up the annoying little sister thing. And it’s working. She’s so childish, I swear, she’s trying to take ten selfies with me every time we so much as get into a taxi—”

“She’s probably just excited to do this with you,” Alejandro interrupts. He’s not quite sure why, except he doesn’t like how she’s talking about Kitty when she just seems… nice. Friendly. Like a normal teenager. “Younger siblings tend tend to look up to their older siblings, she probably thinks it’s really cool you two get to travel the world doing crazy things together.”

Emma shrugs. “I guess. Though it’d be easier to beat you two if she would take this more seriously.”

“Well, that’s why you’re a team, aren’t you? To bring different strengths to the table. You focus on the competition aspect of the game, and she focuses on the social aspect, which is a significant part of reality television. This differences make you two a more well-rounded duo.”

“Sure,” Courtney says, starting to drag Alejandro away, “which is why you’re not going to tell our opponents how they can play the game better.”

Alejandro waves goodbye to a skeptical Emma. “Oops.”

“Yeah, oops. She’s my rival. Where’s your head at?”

“I don’t know. That was foolish, I just… the way she was talking about her sister kind of reminded me of—”

“—José,” Courtney finishes, “which is all well and good when you’re not letting your feelings sabotage the game for us.”

“That was hardly sabotage, and you’re one to talk about letting your emotions rule the game. Antagonizing your little law rival certainly isn’t going to do us any favors down the road.”

“Shut up.”

“Because you know I’m right?”

“How about because I’m getting a headache?”

“Ah. I don’t think that electricity was good for your brain.”

“No kidding,” Courtney groans, clapping a hand to her forehead. Alejandro checks in with some crew members who agree to start bussing them and their fellow competitors to their hotel. The adrenaline that had carried him through the boat race is ebbing away, and Courtney is crashing even harder, no doubt from the mild electrocution and exertion of chasing sharks, so she ends up slumped against Alejandro’s shoulder the entire drive.

When Alejandro glances behind him, he finds Noah watching them.

Chapter Text

“This is awful,” Courtney groans. She’s sitting next to Alejandro on the second bus to the geyser field.

“Hey, at least we’re not on the third bus.”

“What? Oh, I mean, not being on the first bus sucks too, but I was talking about my hair.”

“So vain.”

“Puh-lease, as if I haven’t seen you primp for hours on end back home.”

“I don’t primp for hours.” 

“Your skincare routine is at least forty five minutes, Alejandro.” 

“It’s thirty, and we’re not talking about me. We’re talking about your hair, which looks fine… for having been electrocuted yesterday.”

With a glance around the bus, Courtney switches to Spanish. «Look, Emma already beat me—»

«Us.»

«—us in the race yesterday. I can’t let her think she has a better shot at winning and better hair.»

«That’s entirely understandable, and I will do all I can to aid you in your quest of destroying your rival. As long as it is not to our detriment as a team. But your hair today… may be a losing battle.»

Courtney groans again. It’s not that her hair even looks that bad, there are just lots of stray curls stubbornly sticking up at odd angles.

“Ugh, I knew I should’ve brought my straightener.”

“No, you shouldn’t have, because you end up frying your hair, and your curls are absolutely gorgeous. When you haven’t been electrocuted.”

“Yeah,” Kitty chimes in, twisting around in the seat in front of the Best Friends. “I’d kill a man for that hair.”

“…Thank you?”

Emma turns around, mouth already open to tell Kitty off, Alejandro presumes. But upon seeing Alejandro, she narrows her eyes and goes back to her book. He wonders if he got through to her somehow with the whole “don’t be a jerk to your kid sister” spiel yesterday, but she just as likely could be waiting until the Best Friends are out of earshot to berate her sister about fraternizing with the enemy.

“So did you say electrocution?” Kitty asks. “Because I saw that surfer guy yesterday, and he looked fried. I still don’t know what’s up with that.”

“Alejandro and I had boat trouble. Thankfully, I only had to get electrocuted once to solve things. Though it ruined my hair.”

“Your hair is fine,” Alejandro says.

Kitty grins. “So, Alejandro, you ever gonna follow up on yesterday? How the heck did you two date before you became friends?”

“You told her about that?” Courtney asks. “And we weren’t even dating.” 

“Uh, yes we were.”

“That wasn’t dating, that was you feeding me cookies to make Heather and Duncan jealous.”

“We made out twice! And it wasn’t even for the cameras!”

“And you accidentally called me Heather both times.”

“Did not.”

“You so did.”

“Then how come you never said anything?”

“…I might’ve been pretending you were a strange combination of Duncan and Gwen at the same time.”

“That’s the worst thing you’ve ever said to me.”

“Your relationship is fucked up,” Emma remarks casually, not bothering to look back at them. In contrast, Kitty seems ready to pull out some snacks and keep watching.

“Whatever,” Courtney snaps. “All you need to know about us is that we’re just friends, and that we’re gonna win this competition.”

“Dream on, tenth place.”

“We placed tenth in the first two races,” Kitty points out. 

Emma glares at her, and Courtney cackles.

Alejandro just shakes his head. The Sisters seem harmless enough, but he should keep an eye on them. If he’s learned anything from Heather, it’s that exciting rivalries with seemingly lesser players can unexpectedly lead to getting slapped down a volcano, tricked out of a million dollars, and left with painfully damaged legs. 

Alejandro, bitter? No, not at all.

The Best Friends’ strategy for the game of broken Icelandic telephone is this: divide the phrase into two parts, listen to it a dozen times until they’ve both got it down pat, and repeat their parts over and over again as they dodge geysers (and contestants sent flying by aforementioned geysers) on their way to the native speaker. That, plus Alejandro’s head for languages, lands them on the first helicopter, just edging out the Sisters for the last seats, which Courtney is exceedingly smug about. Alejandro high-fives her, but once they read the Either/Or, their temperament toward teamwork shifts dramatically.

“Feast,” Courtney decides, after reading the Travel Tip aloud. Alejandro merely gapes at the sheer stupidity of that statement.

“You want me to eat fermented shark and sheep’s head over mining for fossils? Alejandro, who is studying to become a paleontologist and has a notoriously weak stomach?”

“Your weak stomach isn’t notorious, and I can eat most of it. You just need to choke down an eyeball or two.”

“No!” 

“Alejandro—”

“We’re doing fossils. Why would we do anything other than fossils?”

“Because we don’t know how hard it will be to find one and get it out. I know I can eat that feast in under fifteen minutes.”

“And I can’t—ugh, we’re wasting time. How about this: we do fossils, and if we don’t find one fifteen minutes in, we switch to the feast.”

“Hmph. Fine.”

Fortunately for Alejandro’s stomach, they have no issue finding a fossil. Chipping it out of the ice intact is another story, but they make slow and steady process, despite Courtney looking ready to bang her head against the wall after Alejandro spends five minutes straight excitedly describing the process of ice preservation. To his gratification, the Vegans appear interested in his explanation. Though Alejandro isn’t sure how much stock he puts into their opinions considering they’re trying to use pseudoscience to free a fossil.

Before he can go off on another tangent, Courtney starts to wriggle the fossil loose, and Alejandro takes over to carefully pry it free. They speed-walk as well as they can up the slippery slope, the Ice Dancers making a point to skate out in front of them with their own fossil.

“They’re kind of iconic,” Tom says, he and Jen hauling up their fossil next to Alejandro and Courtney. “Though honestly, I think they’d look better in shades of purple rather than pink.”

“It’d go well with Jacques’ hair, but I think Josee is too pale to pull it off,” Jen comments. 

The second helicopter must have landed by then, because the Stepbrothers nearly shove Jen and her fossil to the ground trying to rush deeper into the cave.

“Whoa, Jen, did you mine that whole thing without breaking a nail?” Kitty asks, helping Jen up as Emma marches in behind her. “That’s badass!”

“Thanks!”

“She’s so fierce,” Tom adds.

Jen beams. “Hey, I saw a fossil behind the first stalagmite—stalactite—oh, whatever the ones on the floor are—to the left. I don’t think any of the other teams have found it yet.”

“OMG, you’re the best, thank youuu!” Kitty trills as she slides down into the cave.

“What’d I say about her playing the social game?” Alejandro quietly says to Emma.

Glaring, she levels her pickaxe at him. “I don’t care what you said. Stay away from my team.”

Yep, she’s definitely threatening enough to be Courtney’s rival.

“Oh, we’ll keep our distance,” Courtney tugs Alejandro further toward the cave’s exit. “Because first place is far away from last.”

The Best Friends don’t actually come in first, as the Goths and Ice Dancers have already made it to the Chill Zone, but they still land respectably into third place. The Fashion Bloggers follow closely behind into fourth. The Reality TV Pros, looking a bit queasy, trudge into fifth place with a platter as Alejandro is hugging Courtney and grinning. “We did it!”

“Oh, we are so back!”

“What’d you guys place?” Owen asks.

“Third!”

“I can’t say I’m surprised to see that you two have landed yourselves in fifth,” Alejandro says. “That’s just a given when it comes to Owen and eating challenges.”

“Hey, I ate my fair share of eyeballs,” Noah says, and a wave of nausea suddenly overtakes Alejandro. He refuses to show it—and doesn’t, beyond a slight, involuntary twitch of the eye. But from the way Noah is smirking at him, Alejandro’s certain that his opponent not only noticed his reaction, but remembered that he had a weak stomach and made the comment to mess with him in the first place. Does that mean Noah dislikes him?

“C’mon,” Noah says, dragging Owen toward the bus. “I need to lie down and try not to think about the intestines in my intestines.”

Alejandro can’t help but gag at that. And from the way Noah snickers, Alejandro is certain the cerebrito is messing with him.

Chapter Text

Despite being on the first plane to Brazil, Noah decides the day is going poorly, mostly because his stomach still hurts from the Icelandic “feast”, Owen has eaten his teddy bear and is squeezing the life out of Noah (which isn’t helping the stomachache), they’re on a military plane again, and Alejandro is on the military plane with them. Again. 

And he’s dating Courtney, of all people, which just makes Noah’s head hurt in addition to his stomach. They think they’re slick, under the guise of best friends and engaging in zero PDA (thank God, because Noah would barf at the sight), but Noah’s observant. It’s how he figured out Alejandro in the first place. He’s seen them lean into one another on the buses after challenges, seen them fix each other’s collars and brush away strands of stray hair. And he’s heard their snarky banter, that two years ago, Alejandro only engaged in with Heather.

And… with Noah, if he’s being honest, but that wasn’t a romantic thing. It was only because Alejandro was manipulating him into being friends back on World Tour, because he though Noah was smart enough to exchange witty quips with but not smart enough to be a real threat. Or see through his bullshit. A mistake Alejandro shouldn’t make twice, as Noah is serious about wanting to win this time around. He’s sick of being labeled as the lazy one even when he actually puts the effort in, sick of going through awful challenges only to come out on the other side with nothing. Owen is what makes it all bearable—even fun at times, because despite his flaws, the big guy is still the best friend Noah could’ve asked for.

Unlike Alejandro. Not that Noah really cares about the man. Sure, he’d been upset when Alejandro had got him voted out, but that was years ago, and it wasn’t like Noah would’ve had a winning shot at the million back then anyway. He doesn’t exactly hold a grudge against Alejandro—Noah was more upset at himself, honestly, for that first week where he’d believed a guy as incredible as Alejandro would actually want to be friends with him. But that doesn’t mean he likes Alejandro, because Alejandro is still a slippery eel who can’t be trusted, and besides, he’s dating the incredibly obnoxious Courtney. 

Stewing in these thoughts isn’t improving Noah’s already bad mood. In fact, it gets worse with the revelation that their flight is actually delayed, and their high placement in the last challenge was all for nothing.

“This blows,” Noah manages to wheeze out. “Owen, dude, you’re gonna break a rib. Or perform the Heimlich, and neither of those has a good outcome.”

Owen sets him down. “Sorry! I just—I need something to hold on flights, or I’m gonna freak out! I’m already freaking out!”

“I could hypnotize you again,” Alejandro suggests.

“Yeah, I think we’re gonna pass on your blatant offer to mess with my teammate’s mind,” Noah says, before the last part of Alejandro’s suggestion catches up with him. “Wait, what do you mean again?” 

“Oh, back on World Tour, Al actually hypnotized me so I totally blacked out during flights. Couldn’t remember a minute we were in the air, it was awesome! If you’re offering, wouldja mind doing it again?”

“Address me by my full name, and it’s a deal.”

“You got it, Al—ejandro! Alejandro. Heh.”

Noah bites back a scathing comment and turns away as Alejandro starts doing… whatever he needs to do to hypnotize Owen. He hates it. Noah hates it, how readily Owen is agreeing to be toyed with when they know that’s what Alejandro does, and he hates how he doesn’t protest further because he understands how bad Owen’s fear is, and despite his suspicions toward Alejandro, Owen comes first. 

So Noah glares at the wall and hopes hypnotism isn’t real and that Owen just experiences some kind of placebo effect that helps with his phobia anyway. That’s the best case scenario. Though Alejandro is too perfect as everything for his hypnotism not to work. He’s such an eel.

When Noah turns back to his partner, Owen is slumped over, seemingly unconscious.

“What did you do?”

“He’ll wake up once you snap your fingers,” Alejandro says. “Best not to do so until we land. To him, it’ll be like no time has passed.”

“Well, I hate that. What’s to stop you from knocking him out in the middle of a challenge?”

“It’s a one time thing. I’d have to do it all over again if I wanted that, and he would have to be willing for it to work.”

“Somehow, I don’t doubt your ability to talk people into doing things they really shouldn’t. Bridgette and Leshawna come to mind.”

“Jealousy doesn’t become you, Noah.”

Noah snorts. “Yeah, that’s a good one.”

“Alright, I’m out,” Courtney says, pulling a sleep mask and earplugs out of her pocket, which damn it, is smart, and Noah’s definitely going to have to start doing that now. “Wake me up when we’re there.”

She pulls the mask on, puts the earplugs in, and lies down on the bench with her head in Alejandro’s lap. Ugh. 

“If you use hypnotism to screw this challenge up for me and Owen, I swear I’ll get Don to slap a massive penalty on you two,” Noah says, not entirely sure where this anger is coming from.

Alejandro huffs. “Have you considered it’s actually more fun for me to compete against those who challenge me? Why do you think I kept Heather in the game for so long?”

“Uh, because you had a massive honking crush on her?”

“Fair enough, but I realized that… much later than I should’ve. And besides, I have no ‘massive honking crush’ on you or Owen, believe me.”

“That’s the only you’ve said that I can believe.”

“Have you considered that my reason for hypnotizing Owen is not malice disguised with altruism, but a simple petty wish not to deal with his nervous blathering for the next ten hours? I would much rather make intelligent conversation with you.”

“Right,” Noah snaps, “intelligent conversation. That’s what you use me for.”

“Forgive me, but I don’t understand why you’re insulted.”

Alejandro strokes Courtney’s hair as he says this, and the scene is so disgustingly domestic that Noah closes his eyes, curls up in between Owen and the wall, and says, “Shocking, considering how smart you claim to be. Unfortunately for you, these are the last words you’ll hear from me for a while—good fucking night.”

“I suppose I won’t be getting conversation from anyone for the next several hours,” Alejandro mutters.

“Should’ve thought of that before you hypnotized Owen.”

“Whatever happened to ‘good fucking night’ being your current last words?”

“Smartass,” Noah mutters. His eyes are still closed, but he doesn’t need to open them to know Alejandro is grinning.

Noah sleeps for most of the flight, and once they start descending, he snaps his fingers and Owen jolts out of his strange trance. He seems to think they just took off, and is delighted to learn that the flight is ending, so Noah supposes that Alejandro’s hypnotism attempt, while creepy, wasn’t a total loss. Though—despite the guy’s severe lack of trustworthiness—Noah is wishing Alejandro could hypnotize him to not feel pain as he stands in line to stick his hand in a horde of bullet ants.

“You think they’d give us a penalty if I grabbed it with my foot instead of my hand?” Alejandro is asking Courtney.

“What? Yes, they’d penalize us, the Travel Tip specifies getting it with your hand. Why would you even try your foot?”

“Less feeling than my hand, which means less pain.”

“Just because you wouldn’t feel the pain as much doesn’t mean that you wouldn’t still have a swollen foot you’d have to race with. Plus a penalty.”

“Ugh, you’re right.”

Weird. That whole conversation was weird, Noah decides, because Alejandro is a smart guy and it makes no sense to try and grab a ticket with his foot. Less feeling? What the heck is he talking about?

It doesn’t matter, because soon enough it’s Noah and Alejandro’s turn to grab their tickets. Noah chants, “Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow, ow,” the entire time, and Alejandro swears up a storm in Spanish that has Courtney blushing.

“If my little sister comes to visit, don’t you ever use that language around her. My mom would kill me.”

“Your mom would kill you if you breathed wrong. And then I would make her regret ever existing.”

“Enough about my mom.”

“Hey, if you can offer to maim my brother, then I can offer to slowly and methodically destroy your mom’s life.”

“And how many times have you taken me up on my maiming offer?” Courtney asks, and then she and Alejandro are pulling far ahead enough in their dash for the gorge that the Reality TV Pros can no longer overhear their conversation.

“I don’t like that they’re here,” Noah tells Owen.

“They’re definitely an intense pair. But hey, Alejandro helped with my fear of flying today! That plane ride felt like ten minutes instead of ten hours.”

“I can’t believe you so willingly let him hypnotize you. You know he’s manipulative.”

“Yeah, I know… but it’s been a few years. Maybe he’s turned over a new leaf! He’s nice to Courtney, at least.”

“Of course he’s nice to Courtney. They’re partners, in more sense than one.”

Owen furrows his brow at that. “They’re partners in crime?”

“What? No… maybe? Wait, no, Courtney wants to be a lawyer, she’s definitely not committing crime.”

“Then what’d’ya mean?”

“They’re secretly dating.”

“…Really?”

“Definitely. I mean, Alejandro’s all soft with her, and have you heard the way they banter? Courtney’s the New Heather in a very different way than Gwen was.”

Owen is usually so ready to accept Noah’s observations of their reality show opponents, because Noah is so often right, that when he pushes back, it’s a surprise.

“I don’t know, little buddy. I don’t think that banter is necessarily romantic… you and Alejandro talked like that all the time back on World Tour, and you weren’t dating.”

“That was different.”

“How so?”

“Because Alejandro thought I was falling for his whole charming act, and I wasn’t. Hand me that vine.”

Their conversation is effectively cut off by crossing the chasm. They make it with little difficulty, except for when Owen falls on top of Noah, but that’s just to be expected at this point. Cracking open coconuts isn’t as easy. Noah prods several with a stick, Owen stomps on some and swallows others, and it takes a mishap at the hands of Josee (whose smile Noah thinks is mildly disturbing, by the way, he’s definitely keeping an eye on her and Jacques) to present them with an open coconut and a tip. They scram, before the Ice Dancers can hunt them down like they’re doing to the Dwaynes (rest in peace). 

Owen has fun with the arts and craft portion of the challenge, as Noah tries to replicate the local Brazilian’s outfit as closely as possible while trying not to feel like a pervert for staring at a barely dressed woman. It’s for the challenge, and she’s not even his type, though he still hasn’t figured out whether he’s gay or the kind of bisexual that’s only attracted to, like, one woman a year. He thought he had it all figured out back when he was seventeen and then a fleeting crush on Bridgette just had to go and make life confusing. Whatever.

Noah looks up from his headpiece and back at the local, only to see the Ice Dancers producing their full Carnival regalia, with a whole original design, color scheme—everything. “What the heck? Didn’t they just get here?”

The Best Friends (who Noah has been ignoring as they’ve worked near him and Owen throughout the challenge) seem suitably shocked.

“I am both impressed and terrified,” Alejandro says.

The younger Sister, Kitty, manages to snap a selfie with the beaming Ice Dancers before the two speed off. Not long after, the Best Friends present their costume to the judge, who sends them on their way. Something about that pisses Noah off enough to speed through the rest of his costume, jam it on, show the judge, and then he and Owen are hot on the Best Friends’ trail as they sail through the sky.

Fortunately, Owen’s weight gets them to the ground quicker. Unfortunately, they crash just outside the Chill Zone, which Courtney and Alejandro land neatly on.

“Twelfth place,” Don declares, as Noah drags Owen onto the Carpet of Completion. Considering how shit’s today’s been, twelfth isn’t bad, especially considering how close they came to losing in Paris. That was excruciating.

“Well, there’s room for improvement,” Noah quips to Owen, when he feels a hand on his head. “What are you—”

Alejandro holds up a tuft of blue. “You have feathers in your hair. Did you wear your costume on the hang glider?”

“I was in a bit of a rush not to lose, thanks.”

“Can you four step aside?” Don asks. “We have more teams coming in.”

The Reality TV Pros and the Best Friends shift out of the shot as the Cadets touch down.

“I wish I could’ve seen that,” Alejandro says. He’s still picking feathers out of Noah’s hair, which has got to be some weak attempt at a mind game, but Noah’s honestly too lazy to try and deal with the feathers himself when someone else has volunteered, so he lets him. Even though it’s Alejandro. But he’s currently getting pulled away by Courtney, who’s saying something about how the crew wants them in the interview trailer.

Owen turns to Noah. “Well, hey, we’ve still got time to kill before we gotta bunk down for the night. Wanna grab some food and drinks and hang out on the beach?”

“Only if my drink can have a little umbrella in it.”

“Heck yeah! Let’s do it!”

“Thank you!” someone calls, and Noah turns to see Kitty grinning at Emma. “See, if the Reality TV Pros are okay with chillaxing in between episodes, then you can too! Let’s have dinner on the beach!”

“…I guess that isn’t the worst idea you’ve had today,” Emma says.

“You guys should come with us!” Owen calls.

“Big guy, you know by the end of the night they’ll have lost all illusions of us being Pros, considering we haven’t won a single show together.”

“But I wanna make friends! And Kitty seems nice.”

“Ugh, fair enough. I’m sure they’ll quickly lose those illusions regardless.” 

After a brief discussion amongst the Sisters, Kitty turns to the Pros and says, “We’d love to come with!”

“Just don’t mistake this as an alliance,” Emma adds.

“Sounds good,” Owen says, and the four set down the beach together. It’s mostly Owen and Kitty that chatter, with Noah and Emma jumping in with a comment of their own here and there. It’s when Kitty goes to take a picture of some brightly colored birds that Noah thinks to ask—

“Hey, how come neither of you got bit by the bullet ants?”

The swelling in his hand has gone down, but it’s certainly not back to its normal size. Or color. But, save from some stray flecks of glue, both Sisters’ hands look perfectly fine.

“Oh, I stood up for Mickey when Taylor tried to cut him in line, and he grabbed an extra Travel Tip for me!” Kitty explains. “Super nice of him. Well, until the Twins crashed their glider into ours, but that was an accident.”

“Glad to know we weren’t the only ones who had a messy landing!” Owen says.

Emma raises an eyebrow. “Hey, do you guys know how the Best Friends placed?”

“Eleventh,” Noah tells her.

“Ha, and we got seventh! Take that, Courtney!”

“You got an issue with Courtney already?” Noah asks. “Not that she isn’t very easy to dislike.”

“She scares me,” Owen says.

Kitty frowns. “Well, she seems fine to me. A little stuck up, but fine.”

“We’re on the same pre-law degree track in university,” Emma tells the Pros. “She’s my rival in class, and now in this game. And hopefully, one day in the courtroom, because I would love to crush her professionally.”

“Wow, Courtney’s the New Heather, and you’re the New Courtney,” Noah says.

“I don’t understand what any of that means.”

“Be glad, it means your brain chemistry hasn’t been severely altered by the hell of dysfunctional military planes, sadistic hosts convinced they’re younger than they actually are, and extremely predictable love triangles.”

“…Wow, that doesn’t sound resentful or specific at all.” 

“Just because I do a lot of reality television now doesn’t mean I don’t hold contempt for the origins of that. So sue me.”

“Don’t tell a pre-law student to sue you,” Emma snarks, “because we just might follow up on that request.”

Noah laughs, starting to think that maybe Owen won’t be the only one making a new friend tonight.

Chapter Text

The second flight to Transylvania leaves at seven in the morning, which means Noah barely feels like a person and Owen has entirely too much energy. Thus resulting in his anxiety about flying spiking, until Noah buys him a stuffed dog from the airport gift shop as a replacement for the teddy bear, and then Owen is channeling that energy into excitedly naming the dog and gushing thanks at Noah, who still isn’t awake enough to deal with any of this. Fortunately, he’ll have plenty of time to sleep on the thirteen hour flight, which he promptly does.

He wakes up ten hours later to see Owen snoring (the knockout concoction they’d mixed in the airport having apparently worked) and clutching the stuffed dog he still hasn’t settled on a name for. Which is a little ridiculous, seeing as he’d named the teddy bear Beary. Noah finds himself wishing Emma was on the flight, as he might actually enjoy a conversation with her as he had the rest of last night’s outing. As it is, his options are limited to the Rockers (no), Stepbrothers (bigger no) and Mother and Daughter (absolutely fucking not). The Adversity Twins are slumped over, possibly dead but most likely asleep, though it’s hard to tell with those two, and the Fashion Bloggers are engaged in a conversation with the Best Friends. From what Noah can overhear, Alejandro and Tom are chatting about different designer brands, while Jen and Courtney are engrossed in the topic of how best to run a business. 

Seeing as how Noah doesn’t like fashion or Alejandro and Courtney, he resigns himself to flipping though a magazine for the rest of the flight. Which he does, until Owen wakes up and resumes his musings on what to name the stuffed dog. He asks Noah’s advice, and Noah reminds him that he named his actual pet dog back home Ark because he thought the wordplay on Noah’s Ark was sooo clever when he was fourteen. Noah’s commentary on this is more meant to show Owen that he’s not great at naming things, but Owen takes it in the opposite direction and decides to name the stuffed dog Ark as well.

“Arky for short,” Owen says, and Noah wants to point out that it’s actually for long, but Owen has this strange conviction that all animal names should end in a -y sound, so Noah doesn’t bother to bring it up. Especially since their naming conversation had apparently been enthralling enough to distract Owen from the turbulence of flying through a storm.

And then they’re in Transylvania. 

Which is dark, and rainy, and scary, and Noah wonders if Romania is just naturally like this or if the weather is just happening to create a spooky atmosphere on their one day of filming. Regardless, he and Owen set off with the rest of the group to the castle, and Noah snatches a Travel Tip from the Don Box.

“It’s an All In. Teams must enter Dracula's castle and find an empty coffin. Whoever took the tip from the Don Box must then drag the coffin to the graveyard with their teammate inside and tip it into an open grave.” Noah glances at the tip in his hand, and then at Owen. “Hmm. This should be painful for both of us.”

“I just hope we can find a coffin that fits me.”

“We’ll squeeze you in somehow.”

They roam the halls of “Dracula’s” castle, and with the old portraits, dusty furniture, and all around creepy environment, it’s reminding Noah of an awful lot of the stupid London challenge that got him booted even though he and Owen were the only people to technically win the challenge. Ugh. 

Finding a coffin isn’t too difficult. Cramming Owen inside is another story, but they manage. Pushing the coffin is nearly impossible, until Noah find a rather hidden stairway. A long stairway, that leads down, directly outside, and in the direction of the graveyard.

“Owen, we’re going sledding,” Noah says, shoving Owen’s coffin down the stairs and hopping on top at the last second. He somehow manages not to fall off the entire ride down, or when momentum carries them halfway across the graveyard. Only the Ice Dancers and the Stepbrothers (somehow?) have gotten this far. Having not seen their sledding adventure, the Ice Dancers are understandably very confused about how the Pros have made it down so quickly, “especially with the large one in the coffin,” Noah hears Josee complain to Jacques.

“Zey are Pros, Josee,” he mutters. “We better pick up ze pace.”

You have no idea how much of a stretch that title is, Noah thinks, as he heaves Owen into an empty grave. The horse ride doesn’t take too long, and then Noah finds himself with Courtney and Lorenzo in the arena, all watching their partners try to perform decent gymnastics. 

“Kind of ridiculous that the smaller partners all pulled the Travel Tip,” Noah says. Not that he particularly cares for his company, but he’s bored.

“Smacking Chet around in that coffin was pretty fun,” Lorenzo snickers.

“Hey, just because I’m smaller than Alejandro doesn’t mean I’m weaker,” says Courtney. “I carried that coffin.”

Noah rolls his eyes. “Uh, Courtney? I’ve seen you do all kinds of crazy shit. I know you’re strong.”

“Good. And how on earth did you dragging Owen beat me and Alejandro to the graveyard?”

“Found some stairs. Went sledding. Don’t tell the Ice Dancers, I was enjoying how confused they were about it.”

Courtney hmms, evidently finding that to be a satisfactory explanation, and the two go back to watching their partners in silence. Quickly, Kitty and Emma run in, Emma joining the gymnastics groups and Kitty immediately sidling up to Noah for a selfie. He gives the camera a blank stare.

“Emma’s going to tease you about placing higher in the last challenge, by the way,” Kitty cheerfully informs Courtney.

“Oh, please, the only reason that happened is because our plane got delayed. Besides, she won’t have the chance—we’ll be beating you two to the Chill Zone today.”

Kitty just shrugs, before turning to Noah. “Dude, I can’t believe you and Owen are already here! Weren’t you on the second flight?”

“Yeah, we somehow completed the All In insanely fast. Now I’m just hoping Owen doesn’t blow our lead on the balance beam.”

“Aww, I’m sure he’ll do good! Here’s hoping Emma remembers her sixth grade gymnastics training.”

“Here’s hoping Alejandro can feel his legs today,” Courtney mutters, too quietly for it to be intended for anyone other than herself, but Noah still manages to overhear it. He has no idea what that’s supposed to mean—maybe Alejandro got bruised from being banged around in the coffin? Kitty says something else about Emma’s sixth grade sports experience and Noah turns back to the gymnastics course just in time to get a full view of the man himself.

Alejandro. 

Flipping through the air gracefully, hair swooping in a perfect arc as he leaps, those muscular arms—

It’s infuriating how gorgeous he is, and it’s infuriating that Noah’s brain has decided now of all times is a good time to remind him of the fact. Horrible, horrible, horrible.

“Noah, let’s go!” Owen calls, and Noah realizes that his teammate has completed the challenge without him even noticing. And, oh shit, the Sisters are also beelining for the exit. He lets Owen pull him into a run toward the Chill Zone, just beating out the Sisters for second place, confirming Noah’s theory that the Ice Dancers sailed through the gymnastics challenge and into first. The Best Friends quickly snag fourth place, both of them grumbling in Spanish.

Smirking, Emma examines her nails. “Wow, Kitty, doesn’t it feel great to place in the top three?”

“It sure does!”

“I guess I’d already know what’s that like, having done so twice already, but I hope you enjoy your once-in-a-lifetime experience,” Courtney shoots back saccharinely. 

“Are you sure you remember what it’s like?” Emma asks. “Seeing as those top three placements of yours were so long ago.”

“Burned,” the fifth place Stepbrothers chorus. This somehow sets off an argument, and the two end up wrestling on the ground.

“You know how opposites are supposed to attract?” Noah tells Owen.

“Yeah?”

He points at Emma and Courtney, who continue to sling catty remarks at one another. “I think this is the opposite of that.”

“Ha, you’re right!” Owen chuckles, but it quickly trails off into something nervous. “Two Courtneys, that’s… a little scary.”

“All we can hope for is mutually assured destruction.”

The ladies’ verbal fight and the Stepbrothers’ physical one are broken up as teams are called one by one into the interview trailer. 

“Man, what a challenge!” Owen starts off their interview with. “I can’t believe I finished gymnastics so early. I mean, we got second place!”

“Considering you were up against the Ice Dancers and Alejandro, I’m definitely impressed, big guy.”

“Yeah… speaking of Alejandro, what happened?”

“Huh?”

“You were so busy staring at him you didn’t even realize I finished the challenge! Aw, man, he didn’t mess with your head or something, did he? I thought he was being pretty nice to us so far, but if he’s messing with my little buddy—”

“What? No. I mean, not yet, I wouldn’t put it past him to try something because it’s Alejandro, and he’s as devious as they come. But no. He didn’t do anything, I just forgot… how good he is at gymnastics. Because he’s good at everything.” 

“Then maybe we should have him as our ally.”

“…What?”

“Think about it! If he’s all manipulate-y—”

“Manipulative.”

“Right, manipulative, if he’s all manipulative, wouldn’t it be better if we’re friends with him so he doesn’t use it against us?”

Noah sighs. “No, we can’t be friends with him. Because he will manipulate his friends. We just need to stay away from him, and keep an eye on him.”

“So watch him from afar?”

“Exactly.”

“Well, you seemed pretty good at that today,” Owen says, and there’s something cheeky and knowing in his voice that causes Noah to give him a suspicious look. Owen just grins innocently at him until they’re dismissed by the crew. Once they head outside, with more teams lining up to take turns in the interview trailer, Noah drags Owen out of earshot and asks, “What was that about?”

“I think you know, Noah. You were checking out Alejandro.”

“Wh—I was not!”

“It was pretty obvious.”

“It was not!”

“So you admit you were subtly checking out Alejandro?” Owen says, and Noah glares at him.

“Stop that. You sounds like Courtney.”

“Nah, this is all picked up from you, buddy.”

Noah glares at him harder.

“Oh, come on. We both like guys, we can both admit that Alejandro is smoking hot—”

“Never say smoking hot to me again.”

“—and there’s not shame in being attracted, I mean, he’s not even my type, but those eyebrows—”

“Weren’t you going to ask out that pretty park ranger girl once we’re done with the show?”

“Yes, because she’s so funny and her hair does this thing in sunlight where it—wait a minute, you’re trying to distract me!”

“Me? Never.”

It’s Owen’s turn to sigh. “Okay, fine, if you don’t want to talk about—”

“No. Absolutely not.”

“Then we don’t have to talk about it.”

“Good, because there’s nothing to talk about. He may be attractive, but he’s still a snake. A probably straight snake. With a girlfriend.”

“Oh, yeah, I forgot about that.”

Owen drops the subject as more and more teams arrive, which Noah is grateful for, because he really doesn’t want someone overhearing any of that. The contestants linger on the sidelines until the Goths’ penalty is up and the Fashion Bloggers beat the Daters in a foot race to the Chill Zone. Something Noah certainly hadn’t been expecting due to the Daters’ disgustingly athletic tendencies. Ryan apologizes to Stephanie, Stephanie actually breaks down crying and apologizes to Ryan, the two kiss and make up, and then they keep kissing, and are still kissing as they’re pulled aside while the rest of the contestants file onto the bus.

The Sisters sit across from them on the bus, and Kitty and Owen chat while Noah and Emma alternate between closing their eyes and resting, or communicating the sheer absurdity of the chatter around them via exaggerated facial expressions. The Rockers and the Surfer Dudes strike up a conversation over the grossest things they’ve eaten, and Emma makes such a disgusted face that Noah actually bursts into laughter. A handful of people—Alejandro included—stare at him, probably because he has what Eva once described fondly as, “a stupid gay ass laugh”, but Noah doesn’t really care.

“What’s so funny?” Kitty asks. Noah just shakes his head as Emma giggles. She asks to switch seats with Owen, who cheerfully obliges, and the two spend the rest of the drive quietly ragging on the various weirdos they’re competing with, and then their conversation drifts into comparing Nosferatu to Dracula, Noah having an interest in German literature and Emma having a brief goth phase in eighth grade.

“Academically goth, not aesthetically goth,” she explains, glancing at the Goths.

“The superior kind of goth then,” Noah says, and then Emma launches into a rant about how annoying it is when people mix up Gothic and goth and use the former when they mean the latter. If Noah didn’t have Alejandro’s gymnastics routine still lingering in his head—something he is very much trying to get rid of—and if he wasn’t extremely confused about whether he actually likes girls or not, he’s pretty sure he might propose on the spot. Or at least ask her out on a date. As if he’s ever been that romantically assertive in his life.

As if he’s ever been romantic in his life.

Noah ends up suggesting the Pros and the Sisters get dinner together. Everyone happily agrees.

Chapter Text

Despite Emma’s extreme… Emma-ness, the Ridonculous Race is still the best thing that’s ever happened to Kitty. She gets to travel the world for free, with her sister, who she freaking never sees now that Emma is in university. And now that Emma’s way more bossy and guarded than she used to be, though that’s just been a given ever since her breakup. Kitty wishes she would just get over it already—it’s been three! Damn! Years! But every time she brings it up, Emma gets even more prickly and snaps at her. Kitty doesn’t even know what Jake did to warrant such a reaction, because she doesn’t know anything about what happened beyond “it was a bad breakup”. She’s managed to needle out of Emma that he didn’t cheat on her, so that’s at least something, but Emma really just refuses to get into the details. Whatever. If she doesn’t want Kitty to make fun of her ex and eat ice cream with her when she’s sad, well, that’s her loss.

Anyway. Despite Emma’s extreme Emma-ness, Kitty is still having a great time. She’s already ridden a camel in Morocco, done a skywalk in Toronto, been to freaking Paris, gotten a selfie with a Transylvanian gravedigger, and hang-glided in Brazil. And now she’s in a cart on her way to Hawai’i! With the Reality TV Pros, of which Owen is awesome and Noah is actually starting to befriend Emma, a task Kitty thought to be impossible for the majority of the competition so far. She’s not quite sure what to make of Noah, but Kitty is determined to drag Emma into having fun, and if Noah’s a part of that, then Kitty likes the guy.

Hmm. Maybe she should try and set those two up. Kitty’s not sure, though, because as much as she’d like to see Emma in a happy relationship and totally over Jake, Noah may not be the guy for it. He’s kind of giving off gay vibes. Kitty doesn’t want to stereotype, but she doesn’t think it’s stereotyping if she’s, like, eighty five percent sure she saw him checking out Alejandro during gymnastics. Either way, this is Emma’s first new friendship in a while (unless she has friends at university that she’s hiding from Kitty, but considering her slight post-breakup personality shift, she doubts most people care to befriend Emma) and Kitty doesn’t want to lay on too much pressure. She’s pushy, but she knows her limits.

“We’re going to Hawai’i, how cool is that!” she declares, and Emma gives her a rare non-competitive smile. Sweet! But for some reason, Noah and Owen get these funny nervous grimaces on their faces. “Ohhh-kay, what’s with the long looks?”

“Our last time in Hawai’i was… not great,” Owen says, and Noah snorts.

“That’s putting it mildly.”

“Jeez, what happened?”

“Volcanic explosion,” Noah says. “We ended up swimming for our lives as chunks of molten rock rained down upon us. Very apocalyptic.”

“Holy shit,” Kitty says, because wow, that’s a lot. Enough to get Jacques, who had been riding at the front of the cart and pointedly ignoring them alongside Josee, to turn around and gape. “A volcanic explosion? Zat is terrifying!”

“Do volcanoes explode a lot in Hawai’i?” Josee asks a bit worriedly.

“As long as you don’t throw pineapples in them,” Noah says, which doesn’t make any sense to Kitty, but Owen is nodding wisely, so Kitty decides to avoid volcanoes and pineapples when they get to Hawai’i.

Emma seems to be thinking similarly, because she sternly tells Kitty, “Don’t go near any volcanoes.”

“Uh, sooo not planning on it. Anyone wanna play charades?”

The flight from Romania to Hawai’i is sixteen hours long, making it the longest flight Kitty’s ever been on. She wonders if that’s why all the teams are going to be on the same flight together, which she’s grateful for, because that means more people to talk to. Emma explains the time zones to her, how since Hawai’i is thirteen hours behind Romania, they’ll leave Romania at nine in the morning and arrive in Hawai’i at noon that same day, though it will feel like one in the morning the next day ‘cause that’s what it’ll be in Romania. Wacky. Kitty’s glad that Emma has a handle on that stuff (even if she is a condescending know-it-all) because it sure doesn’t click easily in Kitty’s brain. After Emma’s done explaining time zones, Noah and Owen start telling them stories about that other show they were on that involved traveling the world, and also volcanic eruptions, apparently.

Eventually, the Reality TV Pros decide to sleep through the rest of the flight, a skill that Kitty is so wishing she has. “You’ll pick up on it,” Owen reassures her, as Noah pulls out a sleep mask and earplugs. Emma buries herself in one of her boring textbooks, so Kitty decides to make rounds throughout the cabin and talk to people. She gets along with Kelly pretty well, until Taylor’s starts snapping at her mom and Kitty decides to nope right on out of there. She checks in with the Twins, reassuring them she’s not mad about the whole hang glider crash, and then gets super into a chat with Jen about the best outfits to compliment pigtails. The Goths look even more depressed than usual, so Kitty passes by their row, as well as the Best Friends’. Courtney is speaking in quiet Spanish to an uncharacteristically anxious Alejandro, and Kitty gets the sense it’s something she shouldn’t interrupt. Which is a bummer, because she’d really like to get to know Emma’s university rival (or whatever petty thing they have going on) better, though Emma would probably snap at her for “fraternizing with the enemy” or something. Ugh. 

Thankfully, Kitty is able to continue her socialization as Junior is eager to hear advice she has about starting high school, and Rock bounces some song lyric suggestions off of her. Kitty skips the Ice Dancers and the Police Cadets, and especially the Stepbrothers, to hang with Geoff and Brody. The former of which laughs when she mentions the volcano thing, and starts talking about surfing under a lava spray and various dangerous animals. Like a bear. Kitty doesn’t know too much about Hawai’i, but she’s pretty sure bears aren’t native. Regardless, she chats with the guys until the cabin lights dim, and then she returns to her seat to snooze alongside Emma—who’s drooling into her book. Kitty gently closes it so Emma won’t complain about water stains that she refuses to believe is from drool not matter how many pictures Kitty takes. And then they’re in Hawai’i, which is awesome!

What’s significantly less awesome is the Botch or Watch, which mean she has to go diving for wedding rings. It’s not as bad as swimming with sharks like Emma had to do, Kitty reminds herself. And besides, she isn’t scared of water, she’s just… no, yeah, she’s totally scared of water. Ugh, this is the worst!

“You can do it, Kit!” Emma calls. Jacques dives elegantly.

“It looks pretty deep,” Kitty says. It looks way deep. That doesn’t stop Noah from hopping in. 

“Pretend it’s the pool at Nana’s condo. Only with less old people floating around,” Emma says, and Kitty feels almost comforted with the hand her sister places on her shoulder. 

That comfort immediately turns into terror as Emma shouts, “Ready? Go!” and shoves Kitty off the platform. 

“Aaaah!”

After hitting the water, Kitty kicks her way to the surface and glares at her sister. “You shoved me!”

“It was a push of encouragement,” Emma snaps, and she doesn’t even look sorry. “And you’re fine, now go get a ring!”

Grumbling, Kitty plunges deeper into the water. Her fear is fading, while her anger at her sister is just growing. Emma knows she’s scared of swimming, it was super mean to push her! And not even apologize! If Kitty was pettier, she would refuse to look for a ring just to spite Emma, but she still does want to win the race, and the sooner she completes this challenge, the sooner she can emerge onto dry land. So Kitty cuts through the water, looking under rocks and in kelp, and very much avoiding the underwater canyon that goes down who-know-how-deep. When she finally finds a ring, Courtney is headed for it too. And a shark is headed toward both of them, which has Kitty screaming (which doesn’t quite have the same effect underwater) and Courtney darting forward to punch the shark in the nose. Wow! The shark swims away and Kitty desperately needs to gulp down some air, so she grabs the ring in one hand, Courtney’s wrist in the other, and kicks up to the surface.

“I found that ring first! If it wasn’t for me, you’d be shark food,” Courtney is already arguing, but Kitty isn’t going to fight with her. Because this is providing her with the perfect opportunity to make nice with an opponent and piss her sister off.

“I know that,” Kitty says, “so I’m giving the ring to you. Fair’s fair.”

“Wait, are you serious?”

“Yup!”

“Huh. Thanks.”

Courtney starts swimming to shore, and from the platform, Emma yells, “Kitty, are you insane? Don’t give away the ring—go get it back!”

“She saved me from a shark!” Kitty shouts back. “Unlike some people, I know how to play nice!”

“Playing nice only works on TV, not in the real world and not in competitions!”

Before Kitty can point out that technically, they’re on TV, Noah surfaces next to her and gasps out, “I got two!”

“Yes!” Owen cheers, and Emma immediately asks, “Noah, can we have the extra? Courtney took ours.”

“That’s not what happened,” Kitty begins to explain, but Noah is already handing her a ring.

“Just treat me to dinner when we’re done, I was gonna sell the extra ring for cash!” he calls up to Emma.

“Deal!”

“Hey, that’s pretty smart,” Kitty says, as she and Noah make their way to shore. It’s a bit of a long swim, which Kitty still hates, so she distracts herself by asking a question that’s just come back in her mind at full force. “Do you have a crush on my sister?”

“What? No.”

“You sure?”

“Very.”

“Gotcha. I was hoping to set her up with someone here, but I don’t want to mess with her only friendship if you’re not interested.”

“No, no, Emma’s surprisingly great, and maybe in another universe or timeline or whatever I’d be interested, but I don’t like her that way.”

“Cool, cool.”

“Also, why would you want to set her up with someone here? All the guys suck.”

“Owen doesn’t suck!” Kitty protests.

“Yeah, but he and Emma are utterly incompatible.”

“True, but there are some good options. The Surfers are cute, in a dumb kind of way.”

“And you think Emma would go for dumb?” Noah shakes his head. “Women like her want someone of a similar caliber when it comes to intelligence. Besides, Brody’s, like, seventeen, and Geoff has a girlfriend. Still. Somehow.”

“Oh, good point. Hmm, let’s see… the Twins and the Stepbrothers are too young… the Rockers—”

“if Emma wouldn’t go for the Surfers, no way would she go for the Rockers.”

“Well, there’s also Jacques and Tom—”

“Gay.”

“I didn’t wanna stereotype—”

“Then let a gay-ish guy be the one to say that those two are definitely gay.”

“Sure, but can I ask what you mean by gay-ish?”

“I know I like guys. Girls are confusing.”

“I feel that,” Kitty says. “Sometimes I don’t know if I like everyone or no one. But wait, if you like guys—”

“Owen and I aren’t dating, we’re just friends. And congratulations, you’re the twenty-seventh person to ask. This year.”

“Actually—” Kitty was gonna say something about how she thought Noah was checking Alejandro out at the gymnastics stadium, but that seems kinda rude and invasive, and besides Alejandro is just objectively hot and she wouldn’t be surprised if straight guys and lesbians alike checked him out from time to time, so Kitty switches gears and finishes with, “—I was gonna say that if you want me to help set you up with a guy here, I’d be so down—”

“You really like playing the matchmaker, huh?”

“It’s fun! But yeah, you want a wingwoman, I’m your gal. Except maybe not on this show, ‘cause like you said, the guys here are not boyfriend material.”

“Maybe that’s the problem,” Noah says. “We’re only looking at guys here.”

“I thought you said you weren’t sure if you liked girls?”

“I’m not, and I meant more for Emma. Do you know if she…?”

“I have no clue,” Kitty admits, and with that, she and Noah trot to shore, catching up to their teammates. As well as the Ice Dancers and Best Friends, who are standing by the Don Box.

“We have to wait for Don to demonstrate the challenge before we can start,” Josee announces, visibly displeased. Next to her, Alejandro is staring in mute horror at a path of burning coals. Great. Kitty’s already starting to get a sense of what this next ordeal is gonna be.

“In this challenge, brides wear a grass skirt and grooms wear a wreath of maile lei as they carry their brides across this path of hot coals. Oof! It's a test of strength. And honor! And if any part of them catches on fire, grass skirt included, it's back to the start! AAAAAAAAAA!” Don leaps from the coals to the sand. “Once they reach the end untoasted, it's a race to the Chill Zone… Great! Now I gotta take foot modeling off my resume!”

“Did you just demonstrate the dangerous and painful challenge before forcing any of us to attempt it?” a shocked Courtney demands.

“Dude, I’ve gained so much respect for you right now,” Owen says.

Don looks up from where he’d been clutching his foot. “Uh, thanks? Get on your skirts and wreaths and give it a shot—in the order you arrived.”

Josee and Jacques quickly grab more garb than necessary and march across the coals. Kitty’s actually pretty impressed by how they’re doing, until Jacques’ skirt catches on fire and he runs to the water. That’s when Geoff and Brody show up, looking a little startled by the sight.

Next in line, Courtney picks up a grass skirt and wreath, and Alejandro grabs her arm.

“Courtney, I—I can’t. Not again,” he says quietly, and Kitty frowns, because he looks terrified. Not at all like the charming, confident guy she’d seen before. 

Handing Alejandro the skirt, Courtney simply says, “I know. Don’t worry, I won’t drop you.”

Emma snaps at Kitty to put her wreath on, so Kitty does, and when she looks back at the Best Friends, Courtney is carrying Alejandro over the coals. Damn, what can’t that girl do? She’s strong. And resilient, because even though her feet look close to catching on fire, she’s still plodding along at an even pace. Somehow, she and Alejandro reach the end of the coals untoasted. As soon as Courtney sets Alejandro down, he picks her up bridal-style and starts sprinting for the Chill Zone. Weird, but pretty badass.

It only takes Kitty one try to get across the coals, something she’s very proud of, and then she and Emma place third! Again! Just behind the Reality TV Pros! Again!

“Hawai’ian selfie!” Kitty cheers, gathering Emma, Noah, and Owen into frame. And then she ropes in Geoff and Brody, who place fourth, much to the displeasure of Jacques and Josee, who march angrily into fifth place. Despite winning the challenge, Courtney and Alejandro are off to the side, talking quietly. Maybe gloating about beating Emma will cheer them up. It’ll definitely cheer Kitty up even more, so she calls, “Courtney! Alejandro! You wanna be in a picture?”

“I think we’re gonna head to the hotel,” Courtney says, and starts leading a significantly less (but still very) freaked out Alejandro away with a gentle hand on his back.

Emma glances over at them. “That’s it? She’s not gonna say anything about placing higher than me?”

“Maybe Courtney’s just playing nice,” Kitty says, and anything Emma is going to say is drowned out by Geoff’s loud suggestion of going to a loo-wow. Noah corrects his pronunciation, Emma mutters something about colonization that sparks a discussion with Noah while Geoff, Brody, and Owen chant “LU-AU! LU-AU!” and Kitty allows herself to let go of any lingering anger toward Emma and be sucked back into the joy of getting third and being in freaking Hawai’i. So they all go to some touristy lūʻau party, the Rockers and the Fashion Bloggers tag along, and it’s awesome. Owen sings along to multiple pop songs, Jen shows off her awesome dance moves, and Spud epically fails at limbo. Several contestants compare burn marks on their feet and laugh about how absurd the challenges have been.

Emma makes Kitty leave with her way too soon, which is a total bummer, even if Kitty knows she has a point about getting enough sleep before the next challenge. Honestly, Kitty’s just surprised Emma so willingly went along with a big group outing in the first place, so she heads back to the hotel with little complaint. 

But as Emma showers, Kitty sneaks out of their room to make a quick purchase and inquiry to a crew member. Then, she’s knocking on Courtney and Alejandro’s hotel room door, which Courtney opens.

“Hello?”

“Hi,” Kitty says. “Look, you and my sister have that whole rivalry thing going on, but you and I don’t. And me and Alejandro certainly don’t. I don’t know the details of what’s been happening, but it was kinda obvious you two were having a bad day. Alejandro especially. So, uh—I figured this couldn’t hurt!”

She holds out the carton of chocolate ice cream to Courtney, who stares at her for an uncomfortably long time before finally taking it.

“…Thank you, Kitty. That’s really sweet.”

“Of course!”

“Don’t ever go on reality television after this. Ever.”

“I… what?”

“You’re… really nice. And these shows will take advantage of that, until you can’t find it in yourself to be kind, ever again.”

“Well, I mean… the Ridonculous Race doesn’t seem so bad—”

“It’s nothing compared to what’s out there. Fame, money, whatever you came here for—”

“Traveling the world. With my sister.”

“That’s not worth the pain. Trust me. Don’t get back in front to the cameras.”

“Okay, I won’t,” Kitty says, mostly just to get Courtney off her back, because she’s freaking her out. “You have a good night. Tell Alejandro I said hi. Enjoy the ice cream!”

“I will. Thanks again.”

Courtney shuts the door, and Kitty shudders.

Chapter Text

Emma’s alarm goes off at seven in the morning, one hour before she and the rest of the contestants are called to assemble outside the hotel, where they’ll be taken to yesterday’s Chill Zone. After she changes, she yanks the curtains open. Sunshine spills into the room. From where she’s lying in bed, Kitty groans and covers her eyes. “Turn off the light.”

“Can’t turn off the sun,” Emma says briskly, rifling through her toiletry bag. “It’s time to get up, Kit.”

“Don’t wanna.”

“We need to eat breakfast before filming starts. I’m doing my hair, you better be changed by the time I’m out of the bathroom.”

“Fiiine.”

Sure enough, Kitty is changed and doing her makeup in the dresser mirror when Emma emerges from the bathroom. She packs up her suitcase, silently grateful that the crew will be lugging it from hotel to hotel, because that would be an annoying addition to her already heavy mental load. Kitty pauses her mascara application to look over at Emma. “Hey, do you think this show is gonna turn me mean?”

“What?”

“Sorry, weird question. Courtney just said something to me last night, and—”

Hackles rising, Emma demands, “What did she say? Was she trying to psych you out? I bet she was, probably trying to get at me through you, not a bad strategy, but—”

“No! What? It wasn’t like that. I just… forget it.”

Emma doesn’t want to, because who does Courtney think she is, saying bizarre stuff to her little sister? Especially when she didn’t have the decency to properly gloat about beating the Sisters last challenge. Not that Emma enjoys Courtney’s gloating, but it makes mocking her even sweeter when the Sisters outrank the Best Friends.

“Whatever it was, don’t put any stock into it,” Emma says. “Courtney is untrustworthy. As is everyone in this competition.”

“Everyone?”

“Yes.”

“Even Noah? You guys are totally buds now!”

“We’re… amicable acquaintances. I can trust him to provide witty conversation. I can’t trust him with my life.”

“There’s a middle ground, you know.”

“Whatever.”

Much to Emma’s delight, she and Kitty manage to book tickets on the first flight to Dubai, leaving at ten in the morning. It’s seventeen hours until they land, but with the time difference, they’ll be arriving at one in the afternoon the same day. With the Sisters on the flight are the Reality TV Pros (thank God, because Emma remembered another point about the colonization of Hawai’i that she totally forgot to mention to Noah last night), the Best Friends, who seclude themselves in their first class cabin without a word to Emma even though she glares at them as they do so, the crabby Ice Dancers, the obnoxious Stepbrothers, and the dumb-as-rocks Surfer Dudes. 

Once the plane has taken off, Kitty lowers her voice and says, “I think we should officially join an alliance with Noah and Owen.”

“No.”

“C’mon, Emma, they already helped us out in Hawai’i! And they’re pros.” 

“I’m pretty sure Noah said they’ve never won a single show.”

“Sure, but you and Noah are friends! Don’t you wanna be in an alliance with your friend?”

“We’re not friends. We’re amicable acquaintances.”

“OMG, why is it so hard to admit you have a friend?”

“We’re amicable acquaintances, and that’s outside of challenges. I have enough work to do keeping you on track, I don’t need to lead their team as well.”

“See, that’s the problem,” Kitty says. “An alliance doesn’t mean you’re in charge of everyone. And being a team doesn’t mean you get to boss me around. We’re supposed to work together.”

“Except I’m the oldest, so I’m in charge. I have to look after you.”

“Says who?”

“Says me,” Emma declares. Says her and every single adult in her and Kitty’s lives. Not that there’s been many—mostly just their addict mother, workaholic father, and kind but incompetent grandma. 

“Jesus, Emma, I am an adult.”

“Only legally, and only for the last month. You’re still a teenager, Kitty. You’re eighteen, and that’s a lot younger than you think.”

“I can take care of myself!”

Biting back her retort of “If I couldn’t, then how can you?” because that will only raise questions Emma refuses to answer, she stands up from her seat, grabs Noah out of his, and drags him to the back of the plane.

“Hi,” Noah says casually, like he gets thrown around by strong, emotionally volatile women all day. Maybe he does. Emma doesn’t know that much about his personal life—another reason they’re not friends.

“Sorry,” she tells him. “Conversation I didn’t want to be having. I needed an out.”

“Sisters,” Noah says wisely.

“Sisters. You got any?”

“Eight.”

“Motherfucker,” Emma says loudly, and Jacques gives her a mildly scandalized look, which she ignores. “Older or younger?”

“All older.”

“Oh, damn. You really are the baby.”

“As they constantly remind me. But I’m just saying, I know a thing or two about sister stuff.”

“I don’t think you know about this.”

“Try me.”

Emma sighs, leaning against the wall. She hates to spill her guts to—well, anyone, but especially someone she’s only known for a week, but she figures Noah is harmless enough. “I’m just… worried that Kitty is too trusting. Too kind. She’s mad that I’m in charge, but I have to be, because I didn’t have anyone older at that age—well, ever—and I…”

“Lemme guess: shitty boyfriend?”

“…How’d you know?”

“I figured it was that, drugs, or dropping out of university, and you don’t seem like the type for the first two. Well, unless you’ve been snorting Adderall to help with your grades, but I doubt it.”

“And you’re right to doubt it,” Emma says. “You’re also right about the shitty boyfriend. He was bad, it was bad, my life could’ve been ruined, and you’re not getting any more out of me. Kitty doesn’t know much more than that about it, and she never will. I just can’t figure out how to make her understand that she needs to be more careful.”

“Simple. Either you tell her everything, or she experiences something similar for herself.”

“No way! I won’t let either of those happen.”

“Then she won’t understand.”

Emma rubs her forehead. “Ugh. Can’t we just go back to calling Tom’s whole fez idea stupid?”

“It’s beyond stupid. It’s insane,” Noah says, and then they’re back to the more comfortable banter. Maybe they are… sort of… becoming friends, but Emma doesn’t want to dwell too hard on that. So she hangs with Noah until he decides it’s time for a nap, and then she goes back to reading her textbook until she falls asleep. An hour before the plane lands, Kitty wakes her up to show her the admittedly impressive paper airplane she’s managed to craft out of three receipts and a barrette. Argument ignored but presumably not forgotten, the Sisters board the shuttle to the next Don Box.

“Squeegee,” Emma decides upon reading the Travel Tip. Her reasoning is sound, and obvious—a tennis machine is dangerous, and not having to wait in line means they only have to depend on themselves to finish the challenge—but Kitty still gives her a look as they clamber onto their scaffolding.

Soon enough the two are washing windows, already a floor down from the Pros. The suspended scaffolding tilts scarily in the wind. It’s nothing life threatening, but Kitty still shrieks when it happens. Not that Emma can blame her. Much to their annoyance, the platform gets stuck for a good ten minutes, and while the Sisters bicker about how best to fix it, the Pros catch up to them, and then are a few floors below them when the scaffolding finally gets unstuck.

“I told you we had to reverse the levers,” Emma says, and Kitty rolls her eyes. She’s been doing that a lot recently. 

Once they adjust to the height and machinery, the challenge actually gets pretty monotonous, until—

CLANG!

Emma stares at the strange contraption that’s landed on their platform, garbling something mechanically. “Uh, is this part of the challenge?”

“Participate,” the contraption spits out, before launching a flood of high speed tennis balls directly at Emma and Kitty. The former ducks. The latter shrieks, and somehow manages to knock away every single ball with her flailing squeegee.

“Are you kidding me? Why didn’t we choose tennis?”

Emma’s not sure how it happens—everything’s going so fast—but the world tilts sharply, and then she’s dangling in the air, hanging onto the contraption for dear life.

Her hands slip.

And she’s falling. There’s nothing but a blind, raw panic flooding her brain. She’s screaming, and she doesn’t stop until she realizes she’s no longer plummeting to her death.

Emma looks up, to see Noah, who’s grabbed her wrist. She’s still dangling in the air at an extremely unsafe height, but she’s not falling. Emma vaguely registers Noah saying something to her, Kitty yelling from above, and Owen calling back to her. The big guy helps Noah haul Emma onto their scaffolding, and that’s when she finally reacts.

She hugs Noah.

“Thank you thank you thank you,” she mumbles into his shoulder, “oh my God, thank you—”

Noah awkwardly rubs her back as Emma hides her tears in his stupid sweater vest. Then the camera crew that’s been filming them from a helicopter swoops over to check on them, making sure she’s okay and bringing Kitty down to the Pros’ platform. Kitty hugs her and won’t let go for a solid minute, Emma innerly chanting don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry because she’s the older sister and she needs to be strong for Kitty. When Kitty finally lets her go, Emma gets a brief glimpse of the evil tennis contraption being airlifted to the top of the building. 

“Well, I’m glad to be alive and all—thanks Noah—but I’m kinda bummed we’re gonna tie for last,” Emma sighs.

Kitty gapes at her. “You almost died three seconds ago—”

“It was longer than that.”

“—and you’re worried about winning?” 

“Hey, she had the near death experience, she gets to emotionally repress it,” Noah says. 

“For once, I won’t push that, but I want an alliance with you guys.”

Emma bites back a groan. Of course she’s asking this now, when Emma would look supremely ungrateful for Noah’s life-saving if she tried to protest.

Kitty continues. “You’ve had our backs, and I want you to know that we’ve got yours too.”

Okay, then again, it’s Kitty. She’s a lot more likely asking to be compassionate rather than manipulative.

“I’m down for an alliance,” Noah says. “But it’s not gonna last long, seeing as we only have one squeegee and a bucket of water between the four of us.”

“Yeah, I’m… not seeing how we’re going to finish this challenge without more squeegees,” Emma says.

Owen gasps. “Maybe we don’t need more! Maybe we just need one really big squeegee!”

He promptly rips off his shirt and douses himself with soapy water, answering the question Emma didn’t have time to voice.

“You don’t think Don will give us a penalty for not using the proper squeegees, will you?” Emma asks, as she and Kitty stand by the levers and Noah presses Owen against the window.

“I think penalties kind of went out the window when you nearly died and they put us on the same platform,” Noah says. “You ready, Owen?”

“Let ‘er drop!”

And drop the scaffolding does, fast enough that Emma starts to panic, her stomach climbing up her throat, and yep, she’s definitely going to have a fear of heights after today. 

They finally crash to the ground, Owen’s stomach bright red as he dons his shirt, and then they’re crammed in a taxi on their way to the Gold Souk. They spill out onto the pavement and begin dashing for the Chill Zone. The group turns left, and suddenly they’re running just behind Alejandro and Courtney.

“Fancy running into you four here!” Alejandro calls.

“You too!” Kitty says. “Is this mall crazy, or what?”

Noah points at a store bearing the face of some guy Emma doesn’t know and says, “Yeah, they even have dollar stores.”

Alejandro bursts out laughing.

“I don’t get it,” Emma says, as Courtney yanks Alejandro ahead of the alliance and the two leap onto the Carpet of Completion. Kitty runs to claim second, and Emma wants to follow so badly, but she grabs her wrist. She’s being stupid. She shouldn’t be this nice, because when you’re nice, people use that against you, but Owen kept her in the game today and Noah literally saved her life, so this is a special occasion. “You guys go ahead. We wouldn’t be here without you.”

The Reality TV Pros thank her and place second. Beaming at Emma all the while, Kitty places third alongside her sister. Of all teams, the Adversity Twins dash inside to place fourth, beating the Ice Dancers who place fifth and proceed to argue with Don about the existence of podiums and throw random gold items around.

“Hey, that’s cool,” Kitty says. “Top three got the same placement the last two challenges—Best Friends in first, Pros in second, Sisters in third!”

In the background, Josee screams in outrage.

“Yep,” Courtney says, with a smug glance to Emma. “Those top three placements of mine still a distant memory?”

“I don’t know, are mine still a once in a lifetime opportunity?” Emma shoots back. This is good. This is returning to normal. 

Kitty raises her hand. “Uh, you two do realize it’s not just your top three placement, right? It’s a team effort on both sides.”

“I’m happy to let Courtney take the credit for this one,” Alejandro says. “She demolished that ridiculous machine!”

A sudden wave of cold washes over Emma. She thought… well, she’s not sure what exactly she thought happened to have that tennis machine land on her platform, but she had assumed there was some kind of technological malfunction, or an accident… 

Perhaps on the same wavelength as her, Noah asks, “What do you mean, she demolished that machine?”

“I returned a serve to the Tennis Menace that knocked it clean off the roof,” Courtney gloats. “I was the captain of my high school tennis team, so—”

Smack!

Emma slaps her across the face.

“What the hell is your problem?!” she yells.

Eyes narrowing, Courtney balls her hands into fists. Alejandro steps between the two women, looking unsure as to whether he should break up an impending fight or slap Emma back. Kitty is grabbing Emma’s shoulder, while Noah and Owen hover awkwardly on the sidelines.

“What the hell is my problem? What the hell is yours?! If you can’t handle the fact that I beat you again—”

“Your stupid serve nearly killed me!” Emma shouts. “That thing landed on my platform and sent me falling to my fucking death!”

Courtney stares at her, mouth agape. Everyone’s staring at her, and Emma refuses to start crying in front of them, in front of Kitty, in front of Courtney—the absolute bitch, and here Emma thought their rivalry had limits, but no—so she channels that terrifying, gripping fear of almost dying into a much more productive emotion—anger—and storms out of the room.

“We got all that on camera, right?” a crew member says behind her.

Emma doesn’t know where she’s going. Just away. So she stomps down the streets, pointedly ignoring any contestants she crosses paths with, until she’s standing in front of that place Noah called a dollar store. Noah himself soon appears, waving hesitantly when he find her.

“I’d like to point out that I’m the last person you should yell at, having saved your life and all.”

“I’m not mad at you.”

“But you’re mad.”

“Very. At Courtney. At this show, for putting me in danger like that, because what the fuck? Where were the safety nets? I would’ve smashed like a rotting pumpkin on the pavement if it weren’t for you.”

“Yeah, that’s… that’s pretty weird for me too.”

“I’ll bet.”

“And listen, Emma, you’re not gonna like hearing this, but I’m gonna tell you, because it’s the truth and you deserve to know it.” Noah sighs. “Reality shows don’t give a fuck about your life. You’re a meat sack they puppeteer for ratings, and if you get hurt, you’re easily replaceable. Owen and I have watched people get drugged, launched into volcanoes, attacked by wild animals, you name it. I’ve broken three bones. Owen’s gotten seven concussions. And his jaw busted. And nearly sucked out of a plane multiple times. And then had that same plane crush him.”

“Jesus.”

“You can see why he hates flying.”

“Yeah, no shit.”

“It’s not pretty. Which is why if you think you can handle it, you should try and claw for the money, and if not, get out while you’re still intact.”

“I’m not a quitter. I can handle it,” Emma says, because she can. She’s handled everything the world’s thrown at her, even if she didn’t handle it well. Like Jake, who she refuses to think about right now. “I can get over this. I’ll need some time, but I can get over this.”

“Okay then. I’m supposed to haul you back for interviews, but what do you say we take a really long time walking around and making fun of rich people?”

“I say that’s a great idea.”

As they set off down the sidewalk, Emma grits her teeth. Because what happened today was also a warning—to never, ever let her guard down.

Eventually, Emma composes herself enough to go back to the Chill Zone to do interviews with Kitty, who she tells that she’s okay, really, just a bit stressed from the whole almost dying thing. Courtney isn’t hanging around, thank God, because Emma really doesn’t want to deal with the complicated cocktail of emotions surrounding her rival anytime soon. 

She’s totally fine on the bus ride to the hotel, and she’s totally fine as she and Kitty take the elevator up, and she’s totally fine once they reach their room and collapse onto the beds.

Emma is totally fine until she’s in the shower, finally alone. Then she cries.

Chapter Text

Courtney isn’t feeling guilty. 

Courtney isn’t feeling guilty because she is, decidedly, not at fault. What happened to Emma was an accident, and if she’s going to scream at Courtney for almost dying during a deadly challenge, then she’s got a lot to learn about reality television. Courtney’s been thrown to the sharks and out of planes, she’s been whipped and bruised and smacked around. Emma’s little fall is nothing. And it’s nobody’s fault if it was never intended to happen.

It’s five in the morning, Courtney is lying in bed, and she’s not feeling guilty because she’s staring at Alejandro’s sleeping form and angrily thinking that what he’s been through is worth slapping someone over. It’s worth doing a lot more than that, because he was a mess in Hawai’i. Sure, they got first place and he managed to keep a brave face in front of the other contestants, but she knows. She knows how bad it was for him, returning to the place where that volcano destroyed his legs and Chris proceeded to mangle them further. He says doesn’t remember being in the machine, and Courtney hopes that’s true. Only in the last month has he been able to sleep outside of a sleeping bag and even then, he still curls up into as small a shape as possible. 

Alejandro hides less from her than he does from others, but Courtney is certain she’s aware of more than he intends her to be. When he goes out in public, he hides the burns on his arms and legs with clothing and makeup, but there are scars on his neck and left temple that he thinks Courtney doesn’t know about because he always keeps them covered. She knows. She knows he has nightmares that she doesn’t bring up because he doesn’t, but she still gets up a little early to make his favorite tea the next morning, and she’s pretty sure he hasn’t caught on to the pattern yet. Alejandro chews his lips when his burns get itchy and he’s trying not to scratch, he’s touchy on Thursday afternoons because that’s when he has physical therapy, and when he sleeps on the couch, it’s because his legs went numb and he’s too tired to walk back to bed on his hands.

That’s all directly Chris McLean’s fault, and if Courtney ever sees the man again, she’ll beat him within an inch of his life for doing this to her best friend. Or, more likely, Alejandro will hold her back from beating the shit out of Chris because he doesn’t want her to get arrested for assault. But what Courtney would really like him to do is get the satisfaction of punching Chris himself while she holds the vile man down. And watches. Yes, maybe she is as violent as plenty of people online complain about. So sue her. Or fight her. Either way, she’ll win.

Courtney isn’t feeling guilty, but she is starting to get really angry at Chris, and with that anger comes the knowledge that there’s no way she’s falling asleep now. So she very quietly rolls out of bed and gets dressed. By the time she’s slipping out of the room, Alejandro is still solidly asleep. Good, he needs it. He’s been doing better since Hawai’i, but that still took a lot out of him, and he’ll need to be back at full strength if they want to keep up their winning streak. Which reminds Courtney that the Sisters got third place in the last few challenges, and they literally placed second—well, actually third again, but they could’ve placed second if they didn’t let the Reality TV Pros go before them—yesterday, so what the hell were they so upset about that warranted Emma slapping her and Kitty excessively glaring until the teams all split off to their individual hotel rooms?

But thinking about Kitty reminds her of that night in Hawai’i, while Alejandro was scrunched up as small as possible, wrapped in a comforter and staring dead eyed at some comedy show Courtney had turned on in an attempt to make him feel better. It wasn’t working. The fact that she’d had to immediately soak her feet in the hotel bathtub after burning them on the hot coals definitely didn’t help, because then he started apologizing profusely for making her carry him the challenge, which was stupid because he couldn’t do it for a good reason, and she managed to place them in first anyway, and it wasn’t like this was the worst injury she’d ever suffered, so there was no reason to feel guilty about it. But she knew he still felt ashamed for the rest of the night. 

It was a bad night.

…And then Kitty showed up. Because she saw the cracks in Alejandro’s mask earlier that day, and instead of exploiting her competition, went out of her way to bring them ice cream in the hopes that they might feel a bit better. It actually worked for Alejandro, and the sweet tooth he tries to keep under control. But when Courtney saw this eager, cheerful girl at the door, all she could feel was a looming sense of dread. Because she’d seen reality television leech the kindness out of people, until Geoff was Captain Hollywood and Bridgette was cheating on him, until Beth was turning everyone against Leshawna, until Gwen was a two-faced backstabber. Duncan was rendered heartless, Justin a jerk, Trent a mess, and DJ a shell of his former self. 

And Courtney…

Courtney used to want to help people. Didn’t she? She’d fished an injured Izzy out of the water on their very first day at Camp Wawanakwa, and then again tried to pull her and Owen out from under the Jumbo Jet. She encouraged Duncan to face his phobia even before she knew she liked him. Heck, she’d spent that rare day off in Jamaica collecting bird poop to help Gwen’s hand, and part of her knows that had something to do with the very sapphic undertones of that disastrous friendship, but it was also purely because she wanted to help another person feel better.

She doesn’t do those kinds of things for people anymore. Well, except for Alejandro, but he’s the only person she really trusts. And… cares about. Total Drama ripped away Courtney’s ability to trust people, and she’s fine with that, because never again will she be hurt as badly as she once was. It’s a blessing. But knowing that she no longer… cares about others—no longer has it in her to care—is uncomfortable, like someone has hollowed her chest out with a spoon. 

It’s also uncomfortable to think about a girl as sweet as Kitty becoming a bitter, jaded woman not unlike herself. So Courtney hopes that Kitty, still whole and shiny, is able to make Emma feel better about whatever fiasco occurred yesterday that was not Courtney’s fault, and then the two can leave reality television for good. They’re clearly not tough enough for it.

As she’s just been wandering the hotel very, very quietly whilst lost in thought, it’s reached six in the morning, so Courtney decides to trek downstairs and explore whatever cafes are open so early. By the time Alejandro is rising with his seven o’clock alarm, Courtney has acquired two steaming cups of tea and pastries, along with protein bars to keep them sustained throughout the next leg of travel. They consume their breakfast on the balcony, which is actually quite nice, and discuss which teams are still in play, and which teams aren’t. The LARPers were eliminated in Morocco, the Tennis Rivals in Paris, the Geniuses in Calanque de Maubois, the Vegans in Brazil, the Daters in Transylvania, and the Mother and Daughter in the last challenge.

“Excepting three teams—and us, of course—I can see the rest of the competition being somewhat easily eliminated for various reasons throughout the rest of the competition,” Alejandro says.

He always does his best strategizing in the morning, while Courtney’s prime time is in the late evening. So she’ll come up with plans before she goes to bed, and then review them with Alejandro over breakfast. Though their scheming for the last year has been less about winning reality shows and more about job interviews, study schedules, getting professors to like them, and dealing with their more difficult family members. And also, how Alejandro was going to ask out that one guy in his statistics class, but that was mostly Courtney telling Alejandro not to ask out that guy, because he so wasn’t good enough for Alejandro, and Alejandro saying he was going to ask out the guy anyway, which ended up being a moot point because the guy rejected Alejandro.

“Hello? Earth to Courtney?”

“…Lo siento, not fully awake yet. What were you saying?”

“That only three teams are real competition for us.”

“The Ice Dancers, right?”

“Definitely. They’re athletic, and smart, and devious. I don’t think they’ve done anything suspicious yet, but I can sense that stuff from a mile away. Also… Noah and Owen.”

“I still can’t believe those two have been doing as well as they are.”

“Yes, well, while we’ve been in university studying for respectable jobs, they’ve been throwing themselves into shows like Bark Tank, Project Funway, Bug Brother, The Cool Canadian Cooking Show—”

Courtney’s face splits into a grin. “How many shows have you seen them on, again? I thought it was just Fashionista Flip Flop.”

“I—” Alejandro blushes. “Fine, I like reality TV! I’m not going to stop watching my favorite shows just because they’re weaseling their way onto—¡oye! We’re getting off topic. The Pros are, strangely enough, real competition. As are the Sisters. Now, I am still fully on board for getting them disqualified—”

“No,” Courtney reminds him, because last night, he’d been muttering about plots to do exactly that until she told him to cut it out. She didn’t want him getting totally derailed from winning the competition over a slap. Courtney’s had worse. Besides, she’d much rather beat Emma fairly on (the reality show equivalent of) the battlefield, not because Alejandro pulled off an underhanded scheme… and not because some deadly accident had actually managed to claim Emma’s life. “It’s unnecessary manipulation when we can dominate this competition on skill alone. The villains don’t win, remember? The Owen and Beths and Mikes do—Heather was an exception.”

“I remember. But what do you mean when you say Owen and Beth..?”

“They won the first two seasons of Total Drama. Sorry, sometimes I forget you weren’t there the whole time.”

“Thank goodness for that.”

“Seriously, you would’ve hated Chef’s camp food.”

“As if his airplane food could’ve been any better.”

“You’re be surprised.”

Alejandro fake-gags, Courtney laughs, and they finish their breakfast while chatting about new meals they should try making together once they’re back in their apartment. Alejandro’s a better chef than Courtney, something she can begrudgingly admit, but she knows a lot of her father’s Malaysian recipes and he’s devoured every one they’ve made together. Eventually, they assemble with the rest of the competitions—Alejandro steering Courtney away from the Sisters, who she doesn’t want to interact with anyway—and grab the first Travel Tip.

“Ooh, Courtney, we’re going back to China!”

“Here’s hoping I don’t get eliminated again.”

“Or that I don’t have to eat disgusting food.”

“Is that really worse than—hey, I ate most of the food for you!”

It’s an eight hour flight to Beijing, one Courtney gets through by making up for lost sleep. So does Alejandro. When she wakes up with a desperate urge to use the bathroom, he’s leaning completely against her. Great, now she’s not going to be able to leave her seat without waking him, and he’s been low on sleep since Hawai’i, but Courtney really needs to pee. Her predicament is solved when Alejandro starts muttering, “Please, please, let me out,” and she starts shaking him awake, because a lack of sleep is better than an abundance of nightmares. Luckily, he’s soon blinking and looking around the cabin, accepting Courtney’s excuse of needing to get past him to make it to the bathroom. Which she arrives at just as Kitty is exiting.

Kitty frowns at her as they scoot by one another. Courtney doesn’t like that, doesn’t like that this sweet girl has it in her heart to hate her when she’s not guilty, so she blurts out, “I didn’t mean to do anything to Emma. I didn’t even know what happened. It was an accident.”

“Yeah, I figured. But you never said sorry.”

Why would she apologize? It wasn’t her fault. But Kitty gives her one more disappointed look before she scuttles off back to her seat. Courtney spends the last hour of flight chattering mindlessly with Alejandro in order to not think about feeling bad. Because she’s supposed to feel bad, apparently, but she doesn’t.

So she and Alejandro continue to ignore the Sisters. Which isn’t too hard, because they seem to have attached themselves to the Reality TV Pros—an alliance, perhaps? That could be an issue, because they’re already both high-ranking teams, but Courtney is too busy avoiding the Sisters to care about that. It’s not until the first eight teams are on the far smaller plane, preparing to jump into the Bird’s Nest stadium, that she actually has a proper conversation with her competitors. And of all people to initiate it, it’s Geoff, who nods at the Pros and Best Friends—though pointedly not looking at Alejandro—gestures to the open sky, and says, “I bet this’ll be a piece of cake for you guys, huh? With all the jumping you did on World Tour.”

“It wasn’t so much jumping as it was being pushed out of a plane,” Noah says. 

Owen nods. “And we only got parachutes if we were eliminated.”

“You got an actual parachute? Mine was just filled with corgis.”

That garners several confused looks that don’t last long, as it’s time to jump. Something Courtney and Alejandro are no longer afraid to do, but that doesn’t mean they’re good at it. The wind blows them off course, and they end up tangled in a tree. Humiliating, especially since Geoff and his teammate (Brody, Courtney has finally learned his name to be) land perfectly in the middle of the stadium. At least Noah and Owen screw up as well. Unfortunately, so do the Sisters, which mean the three teams end up on the plane again with the Ice Dancers.

“I thought you two were supposed to be good at this,” Josee says to the Pros.

“Did you miss the part where we didn’t have proper parachutes?” Noah shoots back. “Mine was filled. With. Corgis.”

“Wait, that wasn’t a poorly delivered joke?”

From the sky, Courtney can just make out the teams on the second flight spilling out from the bus. She locks eyes with Alejandro, who sees them as well, and the two resolutely nod at each other. They can’t afford to screw up their landing again. And they don’t, unlike the Ice Dancers, of which Jacques injures his ankle, which means Josee gets sucked into an interview as he hops around in pain. The Best Friends, the Sisters, and the Pros all grab their Travel Tips and race to the street market, the Ice Dancers not far behind them.

“You’re skewering,” Courtney tells an already nauseated Alejandro.

“You’re eating,” he says, and then proceeds to yank Courtney down and out of the way of an airborne scorpion that proceeds to smack Jacques in the face. Courtney glances over to see Junior yelling for a medic, and his father sporting a lumpy, misshapen hand. Much to the Best Friends’ relief, their skewering process is far smoother, Alejandro stabbing creatures with ruthless efficiency. Though he does look disgusted every time he’s reminded Courtney will be eating aforementioned creatures. They deep fry their skewer in the same vat as the Adversity Twins, who try and fail to start up an awkward conversation, and then Courtney is choking down the food. Honestly, it’s one of the more bearable eating challenges she’s done so far.

“It’s a Botch or Watch. Whoever didn’t walk over hot coals in Hawai’i must pull their teammate by rickshaw all the way to the Great Wall of China, using only a rudimentary map.”

“Well, it looks like it’s my turn to chauffeur you,” Alejandro says, and Courtney hopes this little tradeoff will mitigate whatever guilt he’s been feeling about her carrying him in Hawai’i. They don’t waste any further time on talk, because several teams have already run off in their rickshaws, even more are starting to finish the skewering, and the Best Friends have a winning streak to keep. How humiliating would it be to rank lower than the Stepbrothers? 

Courtney hopes that their previous experience on the Great Wall of China (though disastrous for her) will provide them with some kind of advantage. That line of thinking is quickly derailed when Courtney hears a cracking sound, some startled cries, and—

CRASH!

“It’s destroyed! We’re gonna be eliminated!”

“Hey, slow down,” Courtney calls, and after shooting her a curious glance, Alejandro slows to a walk just in time to be met with the sight of Kitty sitting in and Emma groaning over a one-wheeled rickshaw. Smashed pieces of wood litter the path.

“I’m gonna kill Chet,” Emma grumbles, and her expression only gets fiercer when she spots the Best Friends. “Are you two here to gloat? Because if need be, Kitty and I will take your rickshaw by force.”

“No we won’t?”

Courtney looks at Emma. She looks at Emma, knowing that she almost got her killed yesterday, and waits for the guilt to come.

It doesn’t.

And that’s what makes her feel awful. Knowing that she simply can’t muster up the empathy for what Emma went through. For what she put Emma through. Courtney tries, and she tries, but the rush of shame that comes is from entirely the wrong place, and knowing that makes it even greater.

“Courtney,” Alejandro asks carefully, “what are we doing here?”

Courtney glances over at Kitty, who watches her with narrowed eyes.

“Apologizing.”

All it takes is some minor maneuvering on Alejandro’s part, and the two rickshaws are pulled parallel to one another. Kitty observes with curiosity, while Emma glares at Courtney.

“If this is some kind of trick—”

“It’s not,” Courtney tells her. “I’m going to grab your axel, and our teammates are going to pull us to the wall.”

“Why would you ever help us?”

“Because I’m sorry about what happened yesterday.” Sorry, but not guilty. “It was an accident. As your rival, I’ve only been trying to defeat you, not kill you. And I’d like to make up for what happened yesterday so we can be on even ground when I finally beat you to the million, okay?”

Emma’s lip twitches slightly. “You mean, when I beat you to the million.” 

“…Agree to disagree.”

“Fine. You can help us.”

Kitty cheers, and Courtney picks up the Sisters’ axel from the ground. As Emma and Alejandro begin to run, Courtney grits her teeth. The way she’s twisted over the side of the rickshaw is highly uncomfortable, and her hand is going to be rubbed raw by the end of this, but… she wanted to help.

No. She wanted to want to help. And wanted to want to say she’s sorry. So this ended up working out well—she’s closer to being back on even ground with the Sisters, having tried to apologize for her mistake—but Courtney still doesn’t feel guilty.

From the seat in the Sisters’ rickshaw, Kitty leans over to her. “Hey, thanks. Doing what you’re doing here… that’s decent of you.”

“Just trying to make up for the last challenge. Fair’s fair.”

Kitty believes her, but Courtney knows her own words ring hollow. 

What’s wrong with her?

There’s not much more talking until they reach the Great Wall, where everyone eagerly steps away from their rickshaws. Alejandro takes one look at the map, then looks back to the wall, and says, “I know where the Chill Zone is, come on!”

“Yeah, but do you know where the land mines are?” Courtney quips.

“I don’t think there are land mines on the Great Wall,” Kitty says, as the Sisters have apparently decided to tag along with the Best Friends. Not that Courtney can blame them, seeing as Alejandro proclaimed to know exactly where they’re going.

“There were land mines when we last visited,” Courtney responds. “One sent me flying into a pig pen. Not a fun trip.”

“You two were here before?”

“Yeah, on another reality show. We did a challenge pretty similar to what we’re doing now, only in reverse. With more land mines.”

“That’s cool. Concerning, but cool. Wait, is that the same show Noah and Owen were talking about, the one that had a whole volcan—”

Courtney claps a hand over Kitty’s mouth and immediately regrets it, as it’s her swollen, aching hand. She regrets it further when Emma slaps her hand away with a nasty look. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Sorry,” Courtney says, before shooting a pointed look at Alejandro, who is running several paces ahead and hasn’t seemed to have heard anything. In a low tone, she says to Kitty, “Yes it was the same show, but do not mention that particular event. It’s a sore subject.”

That’s an understatement. But again, vulnerability on reality television is a weakness to be exploited.

Kitty’s eyes dart between Courtney and Alejandro before widening, and she nods. Emma seems displeased, but she doesn’t press the issue further. The teams run in silence until they reach the Chill Zone, where Alejandro goes to place in second—but Courtney grabs his arm. She needs this chance, to further solidify her apology to the Sisters, to return to her usual dynamic with Emma.

“Look, I’m sorry about what happened in Dubai. I didn’t mean to sabotage or endanger anyone. I don’t want you as my enemy, Emma—I want you back as my rival. Helping you complete this challenge, letting you place above me… will you let us go back to how we were?”

For a long moment, Emma studies Courtney, before replying, “I will.”

“Sweet!” Kitty whoops, jumping onto the Carpet of Completion. Emma follows her, and then the Best Friends, and then everyone scrambles away as the Ice Dancers, Cadets, and Surfers charge toward them. Kitty runs over to chat with Noah and Owen, who apparently placed first, and Alejandro goes off in search of medical attention for Courtney’s hand. As soon as those two split off, Emma grabs Courtney’s wrist and pulls her over.

“What are you—”

“Listen,” Emma says quietly, leaning in, “we can have our regular rivalry again, but not if you keep trying to mess with my sister.”

“…I haven’t been?”

“Then why did you say some weird thing about this show turning her evil in Hawai’i?”

“Because your sister is really nice,” Courtney says, “and if she can’t hold onto that kindness, she needs to get away from the cameras. Before it’s too late.”

“You and Noah are both melodramatic as fuck, you know what? I can handle myself, and I can manage Kitty. We’ve got this.”

“Emma, I’m being serious. You never fully understand how badly reality shows can mess you up until it’s already happened. I know, okay? I know how bad it can get. This isn’t an attempt to psych you out. If this show starts to warp you…”

“It won’t. I’m stronger than that. And I’ve got what it takes to make it to the end. After all,” Emma smirks at her, “I placed higher than you today, didn’t I?”

“Wh… that was only because—”

“Am I interrupting?” Alejandro asks, and Courtney looks over to see him standing nearby with a medic. She’s suddenly very conscious of how Emma has been holding Courtney’s wrist this whole time and muttering into her ear, so she takes a step back and says, “It’s fine, we were just talking.”

Emma drops her wrist, nods, and hurries over to Kitty.

A strange expression on his face, Alejandro asks, “Should I be concerned?”

“No, really, I think everything’s fine now. We’re back to being rivals.”

“Rivals,” Alejandro repeats.

“Yes, rivals.”

“In the same way Heather and I were rivals?”

“Shut up,” Courtney grouses, elbowing his side. 

“I’m just kidding!”

“Yeah, yeah. Now what do you say we try and find some authentic Chinese food that actually tastes good?”

Alejandro says that’s a great idea, and once Courtney’s gotten her hand checked out by the medic—another upgrade from Total Drama—they set off to find a restaurant. The food is delicious, Kitty waves at Courtney when she passes her in the hotel lobby, and at the end of the day, Courtney snuggles into bed with her belly full, best friend close by, and a relationship repaired. 

Courtney isn’t feeling guilty, and she finally knows why.

It should be a good night. It isn’t. Because Courtney knows now, knows the crux of the issue that’s been plaguing her all day. It’s what Total Drama did to her. It’s why Courtney can’t find the shame, the selflessness, the care for other people that she once had but doesn’t anymore.

She’s broken.

Chapter Text

Yesterday was strange, Alejandro decides. 

Well, it isn’t so much that yesterday was strange than it was Courtney who was strange. Alejandro knows she’s been feeling… well, maybe not guilty, but off about unintentionally sending Emma plummeting to her death, but honestly? They’ve both done worse to their fellow competitors, and on purpose. He’s not sure a simple mistake warranted Courtney helping the Sisters, including letting them place ahead of the Best Friends, but Alejandro can’t find it in himself to be upset. They’d still placed third, and while Courtney still seems a bit distant, she’s back to cheerfully trading jabs with Emma. Who also looks to be back to normal, which is why Alejandro doesn’t complain about giving up their lead yesterday—one slightly lower placement is better than making a serious enemy of a capable team.

What anyone placed in Beijing turns out not to matter, as all teams are on the same eight hour flight from China to Finland. Alejandro takes the opportunity to sleep—as much as he’d actually enjoyed the dinner he and Courtney had sought out in a swanky but cozy little restaurant, it had resulted in a stomachache and a restless night of sleep—curse his weak stomach. At least for breakfast they’d eaten jianbing, which Alejandro privately thought of as a Chinese burrito and was exceedingly grateful that it hadn’t caused him any problems. And that Courtney was able to eat it without assistance. Last night, her dominant hand had been too swollen to use chopsticks, so she’d attempted to eat dinner with her other hand, which only resulted in frustration and an embarrassing amount of food on the floor. Finally, she’d allowed Alejandro to feed her until he made a “here comes the airplane” joke, and Courtney nearly bit off his fingers. He called her worse than Izzy, she laughed, and they ordered dessert. Thankfully, her hand was nearly back to normal by morning.

Alejandro is able to sleep through most of the flight, but there’s still an hour or so left, so he takes the opportunity to stretch his legs and observe the others. It’s the same number of competing teams (eleven) on the plane, something Courtney and Alejandro had learned last night when leaving the restaurant and immediately bumping into the Fashion Bloggers, who had placed fairly low in the previous challenge. Something to do with Tom’s mortal fear of centipedes due to their habit of crawling up his shower drains while he washing his hair—Alejandro didn’t ask for further details. But he did learn that the Rockers had been saved from returning home. Seeing as there had also been a non-elimination round in Iceland, Alejandro starts to look for a pattern. The best he can come up with is that for every four of five elimination rounds, there’s a non-elimination round, but knowing unpredictability is a huge factor for shows like these, he decides not to rely on that ratio.

So as he paces the cabin, looking as innocent as possible, Alejandro sizes up the competition. The Adversity Twins are hunched over with headaches, the Stepbrothers are arguing over a video game, the Goths are just… sitting, staring blankly ahead, and the Father and Son are laughing over some cooking show. Alejandro wonders if it’s the Cool Canadian Cooking Show. The Rockers are chatting with the Surfer Dudes—an alliance made in the most obnoxious depths of hell, Alejandro decides, and promptly steers clear—and MacArthur is yelling at the same cooking show the Dwaynes are watching like it’s a football game while Sanders sinks further into her seat, hiding her death glare behind her magazine. The Ice Dancers are relaxing as their facials harden, as are the Fashion Bloggers, and Alejandro absurdly wonders if the teams are sharing the same clay goop and whether they would mind giving him a few dollops. He could use a facial—he’s had to cut down his usual skincare routine this competition in order to comply with the fairly rigorous schedule.

The last two teams are where it gets interesting. Owen is dozing off, clutching a stuffed dog, Kitty is taking selfies with him, and Noah and Emma are sitting together across the aisle, laughing about… something.

Are they…?

Alejandro catches Kitty’s eyes, and beckons her over. Quirking an eyebrow, she stands and makes her way toward him, at the back of the plane.

“What’s up?”

“I just wanted to check in with you,” Alejandro says, trying to set up for as smooth a segue as possible. “I know that conflict between our teams is really just because of Courtney and Emma’s dynamic—”

“I think a rivalry is just a good excuse for Emma to not befriend someone she has a lot in common in,” an unexpectedly wise Kitty says.

“Well, I… suppose that is an astute observation.”

“Them being friends just makes more sense than what they’ve got going on now, don’t you think?”

“Perhaps, but don’t knock a good rivalry before you try it. For those of us with a competitive streak, it’s a very… fulfilling form of friendship.”

Kitty gives him a long look. “Spoken like a guy who definitely had a thing for his rival.”

“I will never be free from that, will I?”

“Hey, I was just taking a shot in the dark, but if the shoe fits…”

Alejandro sighs. “Fine, I briefly had a rivalry with a girl on reality TV, we ended up dating for a month, it didn’t go well, and there’s really no reason to dwell on that. Now, if we go back to your previous point on friendship…”

“Yeah?”

“I had something to ask you. Noah and Emma, they’re—”

“Totally besties now. And suuuper snarky. You know, you’d think two know-it-alls would constantly correct each other, but they actually feed into one another. It’s sweet! And annoying. But sweet.”

“Sweet as in… romantically sweet?”

“No, no, not like that! Noah said he’s—” Kitty pauses. “—um. Not into Emma like that. And she’s way too grumpy to date after… never mind. They’re definitely not dating. And not going to date. Which is kind of a bummer, because Emma could really use a boyfriend. She hasn’t dated anyone in three years, and I really think she’d be happier if she could just come out of her shell with the right guy—”

“Why a guy?”

“What? Oh, I mean, if Emma likes girls, I’ll totally support that, she’s just only ever been into guys as far as I know.”

“I appreciate your attitude, but that’s not actually what I was asking,” Alejandro says. “What I was trying to get at is that couldn’t a friendship with Noah bring out her more easygoing side in the same way a boyfriend could? That’s certainly been my experience with Courtney.”

“Oh. Huh. I guess you could be right, it doesn’t necessarily have to be romantic to make Emma feel better, I just wish…”

Kitty sighs, plopping down in an empty seat, and Alejandro takes the hint. He sits down next to her. 

“Emma’s always been, y’know, a bossy know-it-all who likes to win—”

“She sounds an awful lot like my best friend.”

“Ha! Yeah, I guess so. But the Emma you see now isn’t… I mean, she’s worse. Than she used to be. I thought it was just her being grumpy, after this bad breakup, but that was years ago. It’s like she’s allergic to romance, or something, but she still wants it. She just doesn’t trust anyone to, like, have good intentions.”

“She… still sounds a lot like Courtney.”

“Really?”

“Courtney’s had some bad relationships, and even though this is all public knowledge to anyone remotely familiar with Total Drama, she’d still kill or at least seriously injure me if she knew I was telling you this, so don’t go spreading it around. But when Courtney and I started being actual friends, she was a lot like Emma. Not trusting people, not wanting to show any kind of weakness, and…”

There’s more stuff, about Gwen, and Courtney’s aversion to any kind of dating, but Alejandro figures he’s already telling Kitty way too much, so he finishes with, “She wasn’t in a good place. But we kept being friends, and we grew to trust one another, and we’re both a lot better off for it. What I’m saying is—don’t try to rush things for Emma. She’ll start healing on her own time. This friendship with Noah is a good start.”

“Huh,” Kitty says. “Yeah, okay, that—that makes a lot of sense. I just… I just want my sister to be happy again. I want her to be her again.”

Alejandro places a hand on her shoulder. “Trust me, I’ve had my fair share of struggles with my older brothers. I understand the feeling.”

“Does it get better?”

Alejandro thinks of Carlos, who’d grown distant from the family until he’d flipped through TV channels only to see Alejandro competing in Total Drama. Carlos, who had taken him out for the longest dinner of their lives after Alejandro finally made it home to catch up with his little brother. Carlos, who calls him every week to make sure he’s doing okay.

“In some cases, it does.”

And Alejandro thinks of José, who’d tormented Alejandro his whole life. José, who had jumped at the chance to beat his little brother in a fight when Alejandro had been injured and missing for the last year. José, who only speaks to Alejandro when his parents make him, and still has him wishing for another older brother who cares.

“And in others, it doesn’t. In the end, no matter how hard you try… Emma has to be willing to change as well.”

“I guess so.”

An inflight announcement reminds the passengers to fasten their seatbelts as they prepare for their descent, so Kitty returns to her seat and Alejandro makes his way back to Courtney, who immediately asks, “What was that all about?”

“Just wanted to double check with Kitty that we’re not a sworn enemy of the Sisters.”

“Bit of a long conversation for a check in.”

“…She might’ve also wanted some advice on how to make Emma happy.”

Letting out a long sigh, Courtney gives Alejandro a look.

“You really need to cut off contact with José.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

The Best Friends are the second team to grab a Travel Tip, which means they’re shut up in a dry sauna with the Reality TV Pros. Which is awkward, to say the least. Owen tries to make small talk until he’s too hot to focus, Courtney’s sweat and perfume is mixing into a nauseating scent, and Noah is alternating glaring at the floor and Alejandro, who is fighting back a glare himself. He feels disgusting. His hair is plastered to the back of his neck, his feet are cooking inside his boots, and his sweat soaked shirt is clinging uncomfortably to his chest.

After another waft of Courtney’s sickly sweet odor, Alejandro informs her, “I’m going to throw your perfume out the hotel window.”

“I’m not even wearing perfume, it’s just lotion. That you bought for me.”

“It most certainly is not, because I have never once gifted you the means to wage chemical warfare.”

“Uh, how about that body spray that was actually bug spray—”

“I never said it was body spray in the first place—”

“Enough with the lovers’ quarrel,” Noah snaps. “Seriously, save it for when we’re not locked in a room with you two.”

“I’m sorry, the what now?” Alejandro asks.

“Lovers’. Quarrel. L-O-V-E—”

“We’re not lovers.”

“Please, Alejandro, you two are terrible at hiding it. I literally saw you feeding Courtney dinner last night.”

“Her hand was injured, she couldn’t hold chopsticks.”

“And besides, I’m a lesbian,” Courtney says. She blinks. “Huh. I think that’s the first time I’ve properly come out to someone.”

“What, I don’t count?”

“I didn’t have to say anything, you just knew.”

“Well, your proclamation of lesbianism is certainly wide reaching, seeing as it’s going to be on international television,” Noah points out.

Courtney primly crosses her legs. “I am nothing if not efficient.”

“Fair enough.”

“Wait, did you really think we were dating this whole time?” Alejandro asks Noah.

“Uh, yeah. You’re all… mushy with each other. Well, mushy by your standards.”

“We’re best friends.”

“And you have all this snarky banter that you only ever had with Heather.”

“We used to have snarky banter,” Alejandro points out, and then he promptly avoids looking at Noah, because that’s hitting too close to home regarding the friendship he thought they’d had, and he still refuses to let Noah think for even a second that he’s still hurt by him. The first time around had been embarrassing enough, even if Alejandro had covered it up with anger. It’s not as if it stings anymore.

“See, that’s what I said,” Owen mumbles, practically melting in the heat. 

“Yeah, guess you were right, big guy,” Noah says, before turning back to Alejandro. “So how’d you two even end up as best friends? This whole time I figured Heather dumped you, so you went for the closest thing, and Courtney was deluded enough to date you.”

Courtney scoffs at that. “Do you really think that lowly of us?”

“Based on your taste in men? Yes.”

“You have to admit he’s got a point,” Alejandro says cheekily. Courtney glares at him, and Noah hides a laugh behind his hand, but Alejandro sees it. He sees it.

BZZT!

As soon as their timer goes off, Owen makes a beeline for the door, and whatever oddly peaceful moment they’d had in the sauna dissipates. The cold is a shock, but it’s nothing Alejandro can’t handle—nor is the semi-frozen river. He locks eyes with Courtney, she nods, and then they’re jumping from ice floe to ice floe. Courtney lands upon the shore with some cool flip that earns her gasps of admiration from the teams who are just starting to spill out of their saunas, so of course Alejandro has to try and one-up her with his own gymnastics skills (even if it makes his legs twinge). He briefly catches sight of Noah and the Sisters staring at him from their perch atop a frozen Owen, before running alongside Courtney to grab the next Travel Tip. And then they’re at the stadium, facing their next challenge.

“It’s a Botch or Watch. Teams must battle it out in Finland’s national sport, air guitar. Whoever is holding the Travel Tip must perform here,” Courtney reads. “Looks like it’s my time to shine. I can play the guitar and I won the rock n’ roll challenge back on Total Drama Action. How hard could this be?”

Very hard, apparently, because by the time everyone but the Rockers have arrived, all the teams have gone at least once and struck out. Courtney seems to forget that she isn’t actually playing a guitar and gets way too technical with her performance, Noah gets buried in a mound of speakers, Jacques trips and is promptly electrocuted, Kitty gets splattered in tomatoes, and Junior loses a shoe. Even the de-gothed Ennui runs offstage tearfully.

“How is air guitar the hardest challenge yet?” Alejandro mutters. Courtney huffs, Noah winces while rubbing his back, and a panicked Mickey chants, “I’m not a tree, I’m not a tree.” Rock pushes a battered Spud onto the stage, and before anyone quite knows what’s happening, the Rockers are completing the challenge. Several people exclaim in shock, and Alejandro turns to Courtney, who has a manic gleam in her eyes.

“That’s how I can win this challenge—the same way I won the rock n’ roll challenge! Not by playing guitar, but—”

“By breaking shit?” the nearby Owen says.

“By breaking shit!”

Due to their placement in line, Courtney doesn’t get the chance to break shit onstage until seven more teams have already made it to the Chill Zone. Alejandro wants to tear his hair out as how they’re falling further and further from the lead, but finally it’s Courtney’s turn to go, and she crushes it. It being several speakers she decides to punch and kick until they’re nothing but rubble, and one particularly long speaker she breaks in half over her knee. That gives her the applause needed to move on to the Chill Zone, where the Best Friends place ninth. It’s certainly not Alejandro’s preferred placement, but it’s better than last, which the Reality TV Pros, Adversity Twins, and Goths are currently on the chopping block for.

Well, just the Pros and the Twins, because Crimson and Ennui show up looking like something out of a horror movie, and quickly progress to tenth place. Then it’s just Noah and Mickey taking turns panicking onstage and being booed off. As the teams won’t be bussed off to their hotel until the challenge is over, Alejandro watches from the wings. It’s strange. He’s never seen Noah scared like this before. Noah’s lazy, sure, and he’s not particularly courageous, but Alejandro’s only ever seen him frightened by things that actually have the propensity to kill him. Like falling out of a plane. Or serial killers. Or angry yetis. Certainly not air guitar.

“Come on, just give him a pep talk!”

Alejandro turns to see Kitty dragging Emma through the backstage area.

“Kitty, I can’t—”

“Yes, you can, and you better, because we’re allies! And you’re Noah’s friend, so he’ll listen to you. Seriously, he saved your life in Dubai, why can’t you return the favor?”

“Because I’m not good at encouraging people! And what if he takes it the wrong way and gets a crush on me and then I can’t be allies with him and we lose the race and I can’t pay for law school so I can’t become a lawyer and I prove Ja—”

“Okay, wow, calm down.”

“I’m calm!”

“You’re really not. And besides, that stuff won’t happen, because Noah doesn’t really like girls, mostly guys, and he certainly doesn’t like like you which I know because I asked him directly, except all of that was a private conversation so keep it to yourself, okay? Okay, cool. Now, you’re gonna get over there and give your friend a goddamn pep talk!”

“Wh—I’m not—it’s fine! It’s fine, because there’s no way Mickey—”

As if on cue, a grinning Mickey bounds past the girls. “Move it! Time to get my air on!”

“Emma, you have to do something!”

“How about sabotage?” Emma suggests. “That seems like a much less emotionally tasking alternative.”

“What?” Kitty asks, but Emma is already running after Mickey.

Out of a morbid curiosity, Alejandro creeps further backstage, finding Noah and Owen. They’re watching a terrible performance from hive-ridden Mickey (and also Jay?) who curls up on the floor like a possum playing dead.

“Wow, this might be our last chance,” Owen says.

Noah hangs his head. “But if everyone’s watching, I can’t…”

That’s it, Alejandro realizes. Noah has stage fright. Stage fright that could get him eliminated, and there’s another unexpected realization—Alejandro doesn’t want Noah to go home. Because he’s never seen Noah properly compete until now. Sure, there were snatches of it here and there, when Noah danced for Team Chris in Germany and tricked a yeti in the Louvre, but he was never fully dedicated to winning challenges. Not until he stepped up in London, and that was part of why Alejandro was furious with him after that challenge. If Noah could be a solid player when he wanted to be, why didn’t he want that with Alejandro?

On the embarrassing number of reality TV shows Alejandro has seen Noah in, it’s been the competitive Noah to attempt challenge after challenge. But that was always on the outside, only getting to see select moments for the viewing audience. Here, in this race, Alejandro is getting to go head to head with the Noah who cares about winning. Heck, the Noah that can beat him in challenges, like in Transylvania and Beijing. They’ve gotten this far, and… Alejandro doesn’t want that to end due to an irrational fear. Due to something entirely outside of either of their control. Okay, maybe he can admit it to himself—he misses the friendship he though he once had with Noah.

So what is he going to do about it?

Owen is finishing up whatever motivational speech he’d been giving Noah, the Sisters are watching anxiously from the wings, and Noah is resolutely marching toward the stage. But his hands are shaking.

Alejandro steps out of the shadows. “Earplugs.”

“Ear—what?”

“Earplugs. Use your earplugs. That way you can’t hear the crowd.” At Noah’s scrunched brow, Alejandro barrels on. “It’s stage fright, right? So block out the environment. Close your eyes. Use your earplugs. And fucking own that air guitar.”

“Why?”

“What?”

“Why are you helping me?” Noah asks. “Unless this is a weird ploy to psych me out—”

“It’s not. I just… I want to keep competing against you.”

“I don’t underst—”

“Earplugs,” Alejandro says again, because the crew is impatiently beckoning Noah onto the stage. Giving him one last baffled look, Noah trudges forward, taking earplugs out of his pocket and jamming them into his ears.

“Thanks Al…ejandro,” Owen says quietly.

Alejandro’s not sure how the big guy got right behind him so stealthily, but he’s too focused on watching Noah to care about that. Or about Owen’s semi-slip-up on his name. Because a wide-eyed Noah is standing center stage, arms at the ready to air guitar—and yeah, this challenge really is too dumb to be as difficult as it is. He glances at the Sisters, who wave, and at Owen, who gives a thumbs up, and then his eyes flick to Alejandro, who mouths, Close your eyes.

Noah does.

And then he fucking kills it. He jumps around the stage, grinning like a maniac. Power sliding and leaping through the air, his eyes stay shut the entire time. By the end, the crowd is whipped into a frenzy, and Owen runs out onstage to lift his best friend into the air as Noah finally completes the challenge. And Alejandro is left wondering—how the fuck is Noah able to make air guitar look good?

As the Pros dash for the Chill Zone, the Sisters cheering, Alejandro slinks back toward where the crew had set up chairs for the completed teams to rest. Courtney is sitting next to Jen, who’s been using a pair of eyebrow tweezers to pick shrapnel out of her knuckles. Punching speakers barehanded comes at a cost, it would seem.

“Who got eliminated?” Courtney asks, looking over when Alejandro sits down beside her. He jerks his head in the direction of the Pros. “Ah. Goodbye to the Twins, I suppose.”

“I’m honestly surprised they lasted as long as they did.”

There isn’t much more time to chat, as the crew is herding contestants toward the bus. Alejandro lets himself get swept along in the crowd, and before long, the remaining teams are traipsing into the hotel lobby. Courtney says something to Alejandro about looking for an actual hotel sauna before she disappears, and after obtaining his room key, Alejandro steps into an empty elevator. Well, empty until Noah darts in, just before the doors close.

“Hi,” Alejandro says. He’s not sure what else he can say.

“Hi. And… thanks. For the advice. If it really was that and not some convoluted manipulation tactic, but—”

“It wasn’t. You don’t know me as well as you think you do, Noah.”

Noah gives him a long look.

“You didn’t let me finish. I was going to say, ‘but I don’t think it was’. Manipulation, I mean. I’ve always been good at reading you, Alejandro, and you genuinely wanted to help me back there. So, thanks. Even if I have no idea why.”

“You’re not as good at reading me as you think you are,” Alejandro says. “If you were that good, then you would’ve known that I never tried to manipulate you back on World Tour. You were the one real friend I thought I had.”

The elevator doors open, and Alejandro stalks out, not bothering to observe Noah’s reaction behind him. His face is burning. Because what is he doing? Vulnerability after vulnerability keeps pouring out of Alejandro’s mouth today, and that’s going to catch up with him, because people like him will exploit those vulnerabilities for personal gain. But wearing the mask all the time is tiring. Alejandro’s so used to taking it off around Courtney that the desire to shed it and just be… honest is becoming more and more frequent.

And that is something to be truly terrified of.

But… 

He’s not. 

Not if it’s with Noah.

Chapter Text

Air guitaring his way into near-elimination is the second to last thing Noah would’ve expected yesterday to bring. Getting advice from a strangely genuine Alejandro on how not to air guitar himself into elimination is the absolute last thing Noah would’ve expected, but here he is. Still in the race. And… wondering just how much Alejandro has changed over the last two years.

He’s friends, actually friends, with Courtney for a start. Kitty seems to think favorably of him—in between trading quips with Emma on the flight to Finland, Noah had noticed Alejandro deep in conversation with her. When he finally asked Kitty what that was about, she just said something about Alejandro giving relationship advice, which didn’t make sense seeing as neither Kitty nor Alejandro are in a relationship (as far as Noah knows), but at the time he had just warned Kitty to not fall for his charms. She’d laughed it off.

If he really is to be believed—and for the first time in a long while, Noah is starting to think he might be—then Alejandro had actually thought of them as friends on World Tour. Friends. Noah remember that pit steadily gnawing away at his stomach over the course of those weeks when he slowly realized Alejandro wasn’t the charismatic, clever teammate he made himself out to be, but a scheming eel that couldn’t be trusted. Noah had thought they were friends, once. He dispelled himself of that notion before Alejandro did, which was rather ironic, seeing as illusions and masks were what the man dealt in. Noah’s excelled at seeing those facades for what they were, but maybe he’s never seen what truly lied beneath them. Or maybe… not everything was an illusion.

All this Noah ponders on the twelve hour flight to Zimbabwe. Owen is taking the time to hang out with Geoff and Brody, who have way too much energy for Noah’s taste, so there’s no way he’s going over there. But he’s bored, and not tired enough to nap—he’d pretty much collapsed and completely zonked out as soon as he got to his hotel room—so Noah heads over to the Sisters to chat with Emma. That lasts for about two seconds, because she’s got her head buried in some law textbook and responds to his, “Hi,” with, “Can’t talk, gotta study.”

“Cool,” Noah says, feeling a strange mixture of annoyance and embarrassment.

Kitty looks up from her magazine and nudge Emma. “It’s not gonna kill you to be social.”

“What?” Emma looks up from her book. “Oh, hi. Glad you’re still in the race. You’re welcome for the Mickey thing. Good chat. Bye.”

“Sorry, she’s been like this all day.”

“Whatever.” Noah pauses. “What Mickey thing?”

“What?”

“She said, ‘you’re welcome for the Mickey thing.’”

“Oh. Right. Emma, you wanna explain that one?”

Emma glances up from her book. “Hmm?”

“The Mickey thing.”

“Ah, yeah, that… I kinda talked Mickey into a germaphobe panic attack so he wouldn’t complete the challenge last night. I feel bad, but I mean, I’d rather have you here than him.”

“Damn,” Noah says, annoyance fading, “that’s harsh. And awesome. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

Emma goes back to her book, and Kitty rolls her eyes before turning back to Noah. “Speaking of last night, what was up with you and Alejandro?”

“What do you mean?”

“I saw you two chatting right before you went on. Wa he trying to psych you out or something?”

“That’s what I thought at first, but weirdly, no. He was actually trying to help me.”

“And here you were telling me to stay away ‘cause you wanted his handsome help all to yourself.”

“I told you to stay away because he can’t be trusted, not because I have a thing for him.”

“I’ve heard it both ways.”

“At least you’ve got good taste in television.”

“What?”

“Was that not a Psych reference?”

“What’s Psych?”

“A TV show you’re gonna watch with me right now,” Noah says, and Kitty eagerly clambers over an irate Emma to join Noah in his row of seats. They watch TV together, and it’s odd, because Emma is the kind of girl Noah likes hanging out with, and Kitty is kind of the opposite, so he very reasonably should not want anything to do with her. But she’s fun, and clever, and Noah is very much enjoying introducing her to the fictional Santa Barbara Police Department’s phony psychic detective, when he notices Alejandro and Courtney wandering up and down the aisle with furrowed brows.

“You two lose something?” Sanders asks.

“Yeah, their winning streak!” MacArthur jeers, offering her partner a high-five. “C’mon, that was a zinger!”

Ignoring the jab, Alejandro says, “Actually, we’re looking for the Ice Dancers. I haven’t seen them on this flight at all.”

That prompts several contestants, Noah included, to start glancing around the cabin.

“I don’t see them,” Lorenzo says.

“Me neither,” Rock says.

Jen frowns. “Did anyone actually see them get on the plane?”

“Not on this plane,” Ennui says, and he so rarely speaks that Noah can’t help but look over at him. 

And snark, of course. “What, you watched them die and now they’re on the plane of the damned?”

“No. That’d be cool. But they took a different plane to Hawai’i.”

“Huh-why’i?” Kitty asks, and several people groan at the pun.

“They had to return this Hawai’ian lava rock that was cursing them with a shroud of darkness,” Crimson says. “Which is sad. I wanted it.”

“Those things are hardcore,” Ennui says.

“So they’re taking a detour to Hawai’i before they even start today’s challenge?” Courtney laughs. “They’re guaranteed to lose!”

“Wooo!” MacArthur holds her hand out. “Gimme some skin!”

“I don’t—”

“Partner, are you allergic to fun or something?”

Sanders high-fives MacArthur hard enough to knock the woman out of her seat. Which she does.

“Nice! That’s what I’m talking about, use those biceps!”

“Are they lesbians, or is this just a buddy cop dynamic?” Noah mutters to Kitty.

“I have no idea.”

The Reality TV Pros reach the Don Box and get their Travel Tips at the same time as the Sisters (good) and the Best Friends (ugh). Emma and Noah immediately declare, “I’m driving,” and smirk at one another, while Kitty shrugs and Owen says, “Sounds good to me!”

From what Noah is overhearing, Alejandro and Courtney are having a significantly more difficult time deciding who will be behind the wheel.

“You drove the moped in Morocco, it’s my turn,” Courtney says.

“I drove the moped because I’m the better driver.”

“You so are not.”

“As if you didn’t once drive a bus off a cliff!”

Kitty glances over at that. “You did what now?”

“It was crazy!” Owen says. “We almost died but Leshawna’s bra slingshot-ed us into the air and we kept bouncing from the bottom of the cliff to the top and then we got stranded in the desert for a few days—”

“Hi, what the fuck,” Emma deadpans.

“I could do without the commentary,” Courtney says. “Those were extenuating circumstances—”

“You mean, you were making out with Duncan?” Noah says. He can’t help it.

Alejandro cackles. “You never told me about that part!”

“I hate you all,” Courtney grumbles, marching over to the Jeep. “I’m driving, and if anyone has an issue with that, I’ll knock their car off a cliff.”

“What if I tell you otherwise?” Alejandro asks.

“Then I’m taking you down with me.”

“I’ll behave, then.”

“Good luck surviving the next fifteen minutes,” Noah calls, and Alejandro shoots him a sly smile before the Best Friends speed off. The Airport Alliance takes off after them. The name had sprung from Noah and Emma’s joint effort to create an anagram for “Reality TV Pros” and “Sisters” on the flight to Finland. They’d been delighted to come up with “Airport Levity Stress” as the competition contained an abundance of all three, until they realized it was a mouthful to say. Noah still thought the anagram was cool, so he’d suggested shortening it to the Airport Alliance, and Emma had agreed, as had their respective teammates when they floated the new name to them.

Anyway. Thanks to Noah and Emma’s driving, the Airport Alliance makes it to the next Don Box just behind the Rockers, Police Cadets, and Best Friends.

“It’s a selfie challenge!” Kitty pumps her fist in the air. “Aren’t you glad you’ve got me on your team for this, Emma?”

“Okay, yeah. Maybe.”

Owen keeps reading the Travel Tip. “And we have to go over a waterfall? Man, back on Total Drama, we were supposed to avoid that.”

“Oh, how the tables turn,” Noah says. At least going over a waterfall is easy, if unpleasant. As Kitty evidently seems to think, seeing as she’s frowning while Owen helps Emma load the Sisters’ boat in. From the Pros’ boat, Noah asks, “What’s up?”

“I don’t like water. Or diving into water. Especially deep water. Anything involving water, really, so I’m a bit freaked.”

“At least you have a rational fear,” Noah says, thinking of his stage fright. And then mentally kicking himself for essentially telling Kitty that she should be afraid of what she’s about to face. Noah goes to correct himself, but Owen stops him with a tragically timed cannonball into the boat that launches Noah down the falls.

Ugh.

As he drags himself to dry land, Noah seriously hopes Owen got a picture of that, and then plops down on the grass to wait for his buddy. The Rockers head off to the next Don Box, MacArthur dances as Sanders heaves their boat out of the water, and Dwayne splashes around. Finally, Owen makes his way to shore, with the Sisters following him. He spews apologies until Noah confirms that he got the picture, and then all is quickly forgiven. Much happier on dry land, Kitty eagerly shows Owen the Sisters’ selfie, and that’s when Noah notices that Emma is trembling beneath her tightly crossed arms.

“Fear of heights?”

“Fear of falling,” Emma snaps. Noah raises his hands defensively, and she sighs. “Sorry. I just… didn’t realize how bad it would be after Dubai. But it’s fine. I’m fine. We have a challenge to complete.”

Locating a rhino isn’t actually that difficult—Owen spots MacArthur and Sanders running for the Chill Zone, camera in hand, so the Airport Alliance manages to retrace the Cadets' steps and find an exhausted rhino. The teams take turns snapping pictures, Kitty gathers everyone for a group selfie on her phone, and then they’re in a mad dash to the Chill Zone as more and more teams begin running through the tall grass. The Sisters reach the Carpet of Completion a few second before the Pros do, placing fourth and fifth respectively.

“I can’t believe this challenge was easier than air guitar,” Noah mutters.

Chapter Text

Emma is really starting to dislike reality television.

She had already been freaked out by the skywalk. Her near death experience with the window washing had only made the waterfall she’d gone over today (really, what has her life come to?) all the more terrifying. She’s gotten sick of waking up early to catch flights she’ll struggle to sleep through, not to mention that she’s still not a fan of cameras being shoved in her face. So after the Zimbabwe challenge, all she wants is to get to her hotel room and relax for the rest of the afternoon.

Which Don makes impossible by announcing that the teams only have a few hours to shower, change clothes, and meet back at the Chill Zone—something about a thirteen hour flight and an eight hour time difference having to be squeezed into the filming schedule. Ugh. At least they’re all on the same flight, but that doesn’t stop Emma from swearing under her breath when an in-flight announcement comes on just as she’s finally starting to doze off.

A boomerang, however, makes things interesting in a way Emma likes.

“Here’s hoping we get a boomerang, Kit.”

“Actually, I’d rather we didn’t.”

“What? Why?”

“If we use a boomerang on our team, then they’re, like, our enemies for life! I’d be so mad if anyone used a boomerang on us.”

“That’s just a part of the game. And I’d much rather be the one boomeranging Courtney than getting boomeranged by her.”

“Since when does Courtney have to do with it?”

“Uh, because we’re rivals?” Emma says. “Of course we want to boomerang each other. Though I certainly wouldn’t hesitate to do it to another team.”

“You really shouldn’t. I don’t wanna make things bad-weird between us and another team.”

“It doesn’t matter if this hypothetical other team hates us, they’ll be eliminated.”

“Not necessarily,” Kitty says. “Did you hear what happened today? The Ice Dancers took a freaking detour to Hawai’i and they still would’ve landed in not-last if a rhino hadn’t attacked Dwayne. I just figure that using a boomerang isn’t worth making enemies. Or coming off as a threat to other teams.”

Emma just stares at her sister. “Since when did you start thinking that much?”

“Uh, since always? I don’t need a law degree to have good ideas, you know.”

“Whatever. If we get a boomerang, we’re using it. We can’t trust the competition, so we might as well make them think twice about crossing us.”

“You say we can’t trust the competition as if we aren’t in a literal alliance with the Pros.”

“Only because Noah saved my life.”

“And you don’t think that’s proof the people here aren’t all that bad?”

“No, it was a freak accident, and it doesn’t make anyone here worthy of our trust. And it’d do you some good to remember that.”

“Oh my God, I’m so tired of you acting like I’m stupid for being a nice person!”

“You are,” Emma says, and instantly regrets it. Because Kitty’s not dumb, she’s just naive, and has no idea how guys—that is, how the world will abuse that kind of optimism. And Emma wants to explain that, but she’s tried, and no matter what she does, she just can’t seem to get it through Kitty’s head.

Kitty shoots her sister a venomous glare. “I’d rather be stupid—which I’m not—than a bitter jerk like you.”

“At least I’ll survive in the real world.”

“We’ve been living in the ‘real world’ our whole lives, and we’re both surviving. The one difference? I’m happy, you’re not. So maybe you’re the one who needs to work on some self improvement.”

I’ve been trying, Emma grimly thinks, before burying herself in her trusty textbook. She’s been trying for years. Where does Kitty get off demanding her to tear down her walls? She’s worked hard to build that defense, to keep her safe—to keep them both safe.

For the next several hours, the Sisters don’t speak much beyond necessities for the game. “There’s the Don Box!” “We’re going to prison?” “Taxi!” “You check for tunnels, I’ll check the bars.” Having gotten some sleep after their argument on the plane, Emma is feeling slightly better, and Kitty must be, seeing as how she’s taking prison selfie after prison selfie, and actually laughs when Emma calls it a “cell-fie”. Of course, the decent mood instantly plummets when the Sisters overhear the Ice Dancers make and quickly break a deal with the Police Cadets and Emma pauses her search of the lower bunk for tools to sit down on the mattress and pointedly say, “This is why I don’t trust the other teams.”

“I get it, Emma, you don’t trust anyone… you don’t even trust me.”

“Don’t be silly, I trust you. You’re my sister.”

“And if I wasn’t?”

“If you weren’t, we wouldn’t be having this conversation, so it doesn’t matter.”

“You’re right, it doesn’t matter, because you don’t trust me. Not fully.”

“That’s ridonc—I mean, ridiculous, of course I—”

“You trust me not to work against you,” Kitty says. “But you don’t trust me not to screw everything up!”

Emma is saved from responding to that uncomfortable truth when the wall next to her practically explodes, and someone tumbles on top of her.

“Ow!”

“Oof!”

Spitting out a mouthful of curls, Emma blinks her eyes open to see—

“Courtney?”

“Emma?” Courtney asks, staring down at her.

Alejandro pokes his head through the hole in the wall. “Well, that didn’t work.”

“Hi Alejandro!” Kitty chirps, recovering quickly from her outburst.

“Kitty! How lovely to see you!”

“Sorry about the mess—we weren’t expecting you two to take a sledgehammer to the wall.”

“Oh, that was all Courtney.”

The woman in question is still lying on top of Emma, curls askew, freckled cheeks flushed from what Emma presumes is the exertion needed to break through the wall, and under the dust, smelling sweetly of coconut. It’s a vaguely familiar scent. Emma wonders why she recognizes it, wonders if it’s Courtney’s perfume, and then wonders why she cares. She brushes the thoughts aside—she’s probably just remembering smelling it in their law class.

“Didn’t mean to do that,” Courtney says, clambering off of Emma—though she stays on the bed, shifting herself into a seated position. “I was trying to break outside—not into another team’s cell.”

“It’s not like we’ve had better luck,” Emma says, too startled by Courtney sudden presence to regret admitting that to her rival. All she means is that the Sisters haven’t found a way out yet, but Kitty must take it as a snarky comment about how they’ve been fighting, and she sits down next to Emma—sandwiching her uncomfortably between her sister and Courtney—and says, “Well, seeing as we’re all here, why don’t we work together?”

“I wouldn’t be opposed to putting the law school animosity on hold,” Alejandro says, and before Emma can protest (or correct him because it’s a pre-law undergraduate rivalry, not law school), he’s climbing through the hole and onto the bed.

The bed that evidently can’t take the weight of four people, as the mattress falls to the ground. Which quickly disappears. They’ve found their trapdoor, but all Emma can feel is terrified as she plummets into a pitch black free fall. She screams and clutches onto the nearest person, refusing to let go even when the mattress slams into the ground and they all tumble off.

Emma whimpers, trying to get ahold of her breathing. It’s fine. She’s fine. The fall is over, and it’s not going to kill her, and it never was, so she’s totally fine. She needs to fight back this panic and breathe, because she’s the older sister. The strong one. She has to be, for Kitty, she’s always had to be. She can’t let anyone see her undone.

Anyone… like Courtney. Who is her rival, her competitor.

Who Emma is currently clinging onto.

“Sorry,” Emma says, quickly letting go of her. “Didn’t mean to do that.”

“That makes us even for mistakes made this challenge.”

“I don’t think you breaking into our cell and me accidentally hugging you is exactly even.”

“Well, I wasn’t counting quality, I was counting quantity, a precedent that you didn’t establish.”

“I didn’t establish it because you were the one who brought it up in the first place,” Emma shoots back. This is good. This is normal for them, so it’s almost comfortable.

“I know you two are okay if you’re already debating each other.” Kitty turns her phone flashlight on. “Alejandro, how about you?”

Emma can just barely make out Alejandro’s figure in the dark, as he’d fallen the furthest from the mattress upon landing in the strange tunnel. 

He’s muttering to himself. “Mierda, mierda, mierda—”

“Shit,” Courtney says, scrambling away from Emma and toward her teammate. “What happened?”

“I rolled on my left leg strangely. It’s flared up.”

“Do you need ibuprofen?” Kitty asks. “I have ibuprofen.”

“That’s actually pretty smart,” Emma says.

“I am capable of thought, you know.”

Alejandro grimaces. “I appreciate the offer, but it’s not pain this time. I just can’t feel my leg.”

“That actually sounds worse,” Kitty says. “Do we need to get a medic in here or something?”

“No, no, it’s normal for me. Nerve damage. You get used to it.”

“How are you supposed to walk then?” Emma asks, and Alejandro promptly shows her by flipping over and standing on two hands. “Okay, damn. And you can still compete like that?”

“He once did for a week,” Courtney says, sounding both proud and angry about it.

Alejandro shakes his hair out of his face. “Yes, yes, I’m brilliantly skilled and Don should just hand me the million and save us all the trouble. Now, how about we find the exit? Assuming our truce is still in order.”

“It is,” Kitty says, beginning to lead the other three down the passageway by the light of her phone. They’re mostly silent, and Emma uses the time to think. About Alejandro, who’s remarkably casual about losing the use of one of his limbs, and who apparently has competed (or been forced to compete?) in such a state before. Courtney’s scowl, Alejandro’s condition, and their touchiness surrounding whatever volcanic eruption happened years ago in Hawai’i has Emma wondering if this is one of those horrible reality show injuries Noah had alluded to. In front of her, Kitty’s pigtail swing from side to side, and Emma vows that, as obnoxious and clueless as her little sister can be, she will not let Kitty get hurt like that.

Once they reach the next Don Box, the truce is cordially terminated. Emma and Kitty make short work of constructing a raft. They beat the Best Friends to the water, though Emma doesn’t gloat very much because she suspects that has more to do with Alejandro’s numb leg than the Sisters’ raft-crafting skills—he’s stuck sitting on the ground building the raft while Courtney hauls the wood over. Not that she needs the help, seeing as how she’d literally broken through a prison wall on her own. Emma silently thanks the universe that her spats with Courtney are purely verbal and mental, not physical. 

“Third place!” Don announces, when the Sisters make it to the Chill Zone. Kitty immediately splits off to chat with Owen, who’s finishing up a phone call—the Pros must have won the challenge, Emma figures. She makes her way over to Noah as the Best Friends place fourth.

“Congrats on first.”

“Congrats on third,” Noah says, eyes immediately sliding past Emma to Alejandro. “Uh. Why is he walking on his hands?”

“Long story short, the Best Friends broke into our cell—” 

“I already have more questions.”

“Courtney smashed through the wall.”

“Oh, yeah, that checks out. Continue.”

“We all ended up falling through this trap door and he activated some kind of nerve damage that made his leg go numb. I don’t know the details. He seemed pretty used to it, though. Been doing the whole circus act ever since.”

“Huh,” Noah says. His eyes don’t leave Alejandro.

“We should go to bed early,” Emma says, setting out her clothes for tomorrow on top of the hotel dresser. “Two challenges in essentially one day certainly warrants it.”

Kitty pauses touching up her makeup in the mirror. “Actually, I was gonna go to this ice cream place Jen found. The Surfers and the Pros are gonna come to, if you wanna—”

“What? No. We need to be well rested for tomorrow.”

“Jeez, it’s not like I’m going clubbing. I’ll be back before midnight.”

“That’s way too late, we have to be up by seven.”

“Too late for you, maybe. I’ll be fine.”

“I’m not losing this race due to your sleep deprivation.”

“And I’m not giving up the opportunity to actually enjoy myself just because you think I’ll screw everything up if I do. We’re traveling the world with lots of cool people, when are we going to get the chance to experience life this fully again?”

“How about after we get the million? Winning the race is more important than messing around!”

“Says you.”

“Ugh, why can’t you just listen to me?”

“Because you’re exhausting to be around!” Kitty snaps. “No wonder Jake dumped you.” 

Emma’s blood runs cold.

“Shut up. You don’t know anything about what happened.”

“I know you’ve been using your breakup as an excuse to act like this cold, uncaring bitch who treats me like crap just ‘cause I’m younger and not jaded like you. This whole time, I’ve been trying to be nice about it, but you know what? I’m done. And I’m gonna say what I should have said years ago—get over it!”

“You do not get to tell me that. You don’t know—”

“How can I know anything when you don’t tell me anything?!” Kitty exclaims. “Ever since you went off to university you’ve been super distant and just treating me like an incompetent pest when I’m around. I’m your sister, not your problem, but you’re treating me like one instead of talking to me about your actual problems.”

“Yeah, we’re sisters. And I’m your older sister. Which means I can’t go whining to you about my issues because I’m in charge and I have to handle them myself.”

“You may be older, but you’re not my mom—”

“I might as well have been, for how often she was around.”

“I’m an adult now, okay? I don’t need you to manage my life. I’m gonna make my own choices and sometimes I will screw up but they’ll be my mistakes!”

“Well, maybe I don’t want you ending up like me!”

“Isn’t that all you ever wanted?”

“No! I want you to be better than me, Kitty. I want you to be safe. I couldn’t live with myself if you made the same mistakes as me!”

“What mistakes?!”

Emma turns away.

“Great. You’re not even going to tell me. Glad to see we’re getting back to normal,” Kitty huffs. “You know what? I’ll keep doing this race with you, Emma, because despite what you seem to think, I do want to win. But until you start treating me decently—until you can start being honest with me—I don’t think I can fully trust you.”

“Kitty—” Emma says, but her sister is already storming out.

Chapter Text

Owen is loving the Ridonculous Race.

As far as hosts go—and Owen’s met many, at this point—Don is actually pretty nice, and down to earth (though Chris set the bar majorly low). The challenges aren’t always a walk in the park, but Owen’s seriously had some fun taking selfies with rhinos and building sand castles in France. And he’s gotten to do it all with his best friend! Noah’s been slowly growing more competitive over the last year, and it’s definitely ramped up for this show. Which is fine by Owen, seeing as how the higher they place, the longer they stay in the race and get to do all these wacky challenges together. Plus, there’s the chance they might walk away with the million. And on this show, they have allies that really seem to be legit friends—Kitty is positive and fun and generally awesome to be around, and Emma is the same brand of snarky as Noah that has them chatting together for hours. In between challenges, Owen gets to catch up with Geoff, and even Alejandro and Courtney aren’t as scary as they used to be.

The only thing Owen is struggling with is the flying, but he and Noah have recently perfected the right concoction of Benadryl, melatonin, and NyQuil to knock him out for the majority of the time they’re in the air. Plus, he has Arky to hold. Commercial planes aren’t nearly as terrifying as military jets, but as long as Owen has Alejandro to hypnotize him, he figures it’ll turn out okay. It has to! Everything on Total Drama World Tour was way more dangerous and Owen survived, so flying on the Ridonculous Race should be totally fine!

Owen tries not to think about the Jumbo Jet crashing down on him.

But yeah, the Ridonculous Race is pretty great so far. And so is today! They’re not flying to their next location, so they get to sleep in. Owen ends up having to drag Noah out of bed and down to breakfast with Kitty. She’d seemed a little off when they’d gotten ice cream with the Surfers and Bloggers last night, but she’s all smiles at breakfast. Unlike Emma, who opts to sit at another table (with nary a greeting) furiously reading that giant textbook. Owen doesn’t know why anyone would work on school stuff during the race, but hey, to each their own!

To make the day even better, Owen and Noah get to grab the first Travel Tip, and the challenge isn’t even that crazy—they’re just catching bunnies. And there’s plenty of cabbage to snack on. Until Noah gives Owen the look he’s learned means, for the love of God, don’t eat something that’s gonna make you super gassy when we’re practically joined at the hip for this show, and then Owen resigns himself to the granola bars in his pocket. 

Catching bunnies is hard work, and after lots of failed attempts to nab them, Noah says, “Okay, this isn’t fast enough. We need to strategize.”

“Maybe I could try falling on them?”

“NO!” Emma exclaims, screeching to a halt in pursuit of a rabbit. “You’d kill them. It’s bad enough that these poor little guys are being forced into this challenge…”

“You like bunnies?” Noah asks.

“I had one as a pet when I was a kid.”

“Aw, that’s cute,” Owen says. 

Emma just shrugs and takes off after another rabbit. 

“Hmm.” Noah rubs his chin. “Maybe we could work with the Sisters to flank…”

Looking over at the Sisters, Owen winces as they chase a rabbit, smack right into one another, and immediately begin arguing. “I’m not sure that’ll do much good.”

“Ugh, yeah.”

“What if we combine a bunch of cabbages to make one mega cabbage that the bunnies can’t resist eating? Like me with the cheese wheel in Paris!”

“That… might actually work.”

So they get to work building Mega Cabbage, managing to capture two bunnies who hop up to them during the construction process. Owen surveys the farm while he works. He’s not sure how much better the other teams are doing—Rock is army-crawling, for some reason, MacArthur and the Stepbrothers are nowhere to be seen, Brody and Geoff are running away without their bag, and it looks like a horde of rabbits are trying to catch Ennui, not the other way around. The Best Friends seem to be doing okay, with Courtney shoving three rabbits at once into a bag, but upon further inspection, Alejandro…

…is limping. That’s weird. Owen had seen him walking on his hands near the end of yesterday’s challenge, but he figured Al was just doing that for fun. Or to show off. Unlike Noah, he’s not great at reading the guy.

“Hey, Alejandro, you doing alright?” Owen asks.

“Perfectly fine, thanks for the concern!” Alejandro calls, which doesn’t seem accurate, but Owen figures the guy would just rather not talk about it. He turns back to Mega Cabbage, which two more bunnies are munching on, so he grabs them and shoves them into the sack Noah holds.

“You got any idea what’s up with Alejandro, little buddy?”

“Oh, yeah. Yesterday, Emma said he was dealing with some kind of nerve damage flare up that made his leg go numb. I guess he’s recovering from that.”

“Bummer. That doesn’t sound fun.”

Noah grabs another rabbit and plops it down in the sack. “Hey, Owen?”

“Uh huh?”

“Would it be crazy to think that Alejandro’s… not as bad as he used to be?”

“I dunno,” Owen says, mulling over the question. “Before this show, I hadn’t really talked to him since I blew up those balloons for Total Drama All Stars, and he was all mushy ‘cause he was finally dating Heather. And they broke up ages ago, according to every tabloid ever, so I don’t think that’d be making him act different now. But he and Courtney are actual best friends, and they haven’t seemed evil at all this season, so maybe they’ve mellowed out. Then again, I never really caught on to Alejandro’s dark side back on World Tour. The whole time he was manipulating you into being friends or whatever, I just thought he was flirting with you.”

Noah nearly drops the bag. “You what?”

“Thought he was flirting with you. You know, ‘cause he’d make all these little jokes on the side just for you and call you brilliant and stuff. Silly, right?”

“I… don’t know, big guy. Back in Finland, Alejandro actually tried to help me with the air guitar challenge. Said I should use—”

“Earplugs. I heard that part—heh, heard that part. But I thought he was just taking pity on you.”

“And I figured he was trying to psych me out or something. But I talked to him later and he was actually trying to help me because he wanted me to stay in the race. Said I wasn’t as good at reading him as I thought, because he was only ever trying to be my friend back on World Tour. It’s Alejandro, but… I think he was telling the truth. He seemed hurt. Which doesn’t even make sense, because that was years ago, so I don’t know why he would care—”

“I’d care,” Owen says. “You’re a cool guy, Noah. You’re smart and funny and you’re my best friend. If you said you didn’t trust me because you thought I was just getting close to you to manipulate you, I’d be devastated.”

“…Thanks, big guy.”

“Maybe you should try being friends with Alejandro again.”

“During the race? I dunno…”

“Hey, you don’t have to be allies, or even trust him. Just friendly.”

“I guess I could give it a shot, but—hey, grab those rabbits!”

Owen scoops up the bunnies that had been munching on Mega Cabbage during his and Noah’s discussion. “That’s ten, right?”

“Eleven, actually.”

“Let’s give one to the Sisters.”

“Good idea.”

The two hurry over to the Sisters, whose bag is significantly emptier.

“We got an extra rabbit, if you want it,” Noah offers.

“OMG, yes please!”

Noah dumps the bunny into the Sisters’ bag, and Kitty turns to Emma. “See, isn’t trusting your allies super beneficial and smart?”

“I’ll start listening to you when you start listening to me for a change.”

“For a change? When have you ever listened to me?”

Owen winces. “Um…”

“Let’s leave ‘em to it,” Noah says. “Sister problems.”

“Gotcha.” Owen figures Noah knows what he’s talking about, seeing as he’s got eight sisters (Owen thinks such a big family would be super fun, but Noah disagrees) and Owen’s only got two brothers. He’d gotten to speak to Johnny and Gavin (as well as his parents) for his phone call home yesterday, which was awesome! He missed them. His parents still think he and Noah are dating—no matter how many times he’s tried, he remains unsuccessful in dissuading them—and they were delighted with how far the two had gotten, and how much fun Owen was having.

Owen is having significantly less fun when he and Noah get the Travel Tip, and he sees the tiny planes they have to fly in. Fuck.

“Hey, it’s okay, Owen. They don’t have engines. They’re basically plane shaped hang gliders. It’s not like actual flying.”

“Are you sure?”

“Totally.”

“But we have to steer it! What if we crash?”

“Hey, how different from driving can it be?” Noah pats Owen’s arm before climbing into the front seat. “I’ll take care of it, big guy. Just hold onto Arky and pretend it’s a rollercoaster.”

Gulping nervously, Owen obliges. He trusts Noah, but so many things tend to go wrong on reality shows! And on planes! And especially planes on reality shows!

Takeoff is terrifying, but once they’re in the air, Owen feels his anxiety starting to die down. Noah’s right—it feels a lot more like hang gliding than flying, there’s almost no turbulence, and they’re not nearly as high as Owen expected them to be. Noah steers the glider with ease, and once Owen feels good enough to open his eyes, he catches his best friend grinning in the reflection of the window.

“Wait, are you… enjoying this?”

“I mean, I’m not thrilled that you’re freaked out, but I love planes. This is kind of awesome for me.”

“I’m glad that—”

CRASH!

Owen shrieks as something slams into them from above, and their glider plummets.

“Hold on!” Noah shouts, yanking the steering mechanism to the side. Owen shrieks again as he watches the Best Friends’ plane slide off of theirs, spinning down to Earth.

“Holy shit! Noah, what—?”

“We’re heading down fast, so I’m gonna try and circle the glider to slow us down a bit! Just stay still, okay?”

“I’m trying my best! God, I hate this!”

“I know, pal, I know. Whaddaya wanna bet this was a sabotage attempt by the Best Friends?”

Owen glances down and immediately wishes he hadn’t. “Uh, seeing as their plane is currently smashed to bits? I’ll pass.”

“Fair enough.” Noah grits his teeth, and Owen squeezes Arky so hard he’s certain the little guy will be misshapen if they ever get out of this plane alive. Which, much to his relief, they do. Despite the speed of their descent, Noah manages to keep up the circling long enough to slow them down for a decent landing right next to the Carpet of Completion. Which Owen collapses against to kiss the ground, and then jumps up to hug his little buddy.

“You got us out of there alive! I knew you could do it!”

“Watch the ribs,” Noah wheezes, and Owen sets him down, only for Noah to immediately turn to the Best Friends and demand, “Were you two trying to get us killed?”

“That’s a no, and if you need proof, take a look at our plane,” Courtney says.

Owen holds up a finger. “I have already seen it, and already been terrified by the implications.”

“Well, we’re alive,” Alejandro says, before wincing and reaching down to touch his thigh. “If not unharmed. I really am sorry about that. And impressed by Noah’s flying.”

“I like planes,” is all Noah says, but by the way his glare softens, Owen’s guessing he believes Alejandro about the crash being an accident. Owen does.

“You are never allowed to bring up me driving a bus off a cliff again,” Courtney tells Alejandro.

“That was a very different situation!”

“Yeah, Alejandro wasn’t making out with anyone,” Noah says. Courtney pouts, and Owen finds himself laughing alongside Alejandro.

“Thank you for the backup, Noah.”

“Yeah, well—” Noah catches Owen’s eye, and Owen mouths, try friendly. “…you’re welcome. Just don’t go crashing any more planes.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it. Again, very sorry about that.”

“C’mon, it’s our turn for an interview,” Courtney says, and she starts pulling Alejandro away.

Noah turns to Owen. “You’re right, that wasn’t sabotage. He was being genuine. Again. So weird.”

“Well, hey, buddy, he’s only human too.”

“I guess so.”

As his best friend looks after Alejandro, Owen starts to wonder if…

Nah.

Maybe?

It’s probably stupid, seeing as how off the mark he was about Alejandro flirting with Noah during World Tour, but… perhaps Owen is a bit more perceptive than people give him credit for.

Chapter Text

“I don’t think I’ve ever been this mad at her.”

Kitty’s spent the last two days giving Emma the silent treatment. That, or snipping at her. Or responding to Emma’s jabs. She’s not at the point where she’d deliberately try to lose the race just to get away from her sister (and to piss her off), but life has gotten majorly unpleasant when they’re sharing a hotel room, an alliance, and have to work together. 

All. 

The. 

Time.

Emma’s been eating every meal alone and reading her textbook, and the Pros can definitely tell something’s up. Kitty’s started staying out later and later just to get on Emma’s nerves and prove she can compete without a curfew, which has maybe started to backfire seeing as how she didn’t fully wake up until she’d drained her second cup of coffee this morning. But fuck it—she can make her own mistakes. Kitty’s tired of being micromanaged.

The Sisters are on the second train to Decision Junction, and are pointedly not sitting together. Emma is reading her textbook—or, was, until Courtney came over to debate her over some court case and now they’re talking about dumb lawyer stuff. Ugh. Kitty really wishes the Pros were here to distract her, but she settles for Alejandro, who slides into the seat across from her and asks what’s going on with her and Emma.

“She’s driving me crazy. It’s not that she doesn’t trust anyone—though I do kinda take issue with that, actually—but it’s that she keeps treating me like a big dumb baby just because I don’t act like the whole world is out to get me. She expects any decision I make on my own to screw us over. And, like, I’m supposed to do everything she says when she won’t even tell me what’s going on with her? Why she’s been so awful the last three years? She got dumped. So what? It’s not an excuse to treat me like shit!”

Alejandro nods. “Absolutely. You know, I’d hoped… never mind. You’re standing up for yourself. That’s excellent. It’s the first step, really.”

“What, you got a bossy older sister too?”

“Brother. He was terrible to me—until I beat him up on international television and utterly humiliated him. Now he doesn’t treat me badly. Then again, we hardly talk, and according to Courtney, I still ‘crave the approval he’ll never give me’, but what does she know?”

“Yowza.”

“I think you and Emma will be okay, in the end. You just have to show her that you can take charge. Make your own decisions. And the world won’t end because of it.”

“Take charge,” Kitty repeats. “Huh. I think you’re right.”

So when they reach the Don Box, Kitty grabs the Travel Tip and declares, “Jump around!”

“But—”

“Let’s move it!” Kitty grabs Emma’s wrist and sprints toward the stage.

“Uh, hello, are we not even going to have a discussion about—”

“When has there ever been a discussion?”

Alejandro, who is also running to the stage alongside Courtney, gives Kitty a subtle thumbs up. Kitty winks, and then frowns. He’s running significantly slower than she’s used to seeing, and he’s wincing—he must still be dealing with some leg pain, or whatever’s going on. That’s rough. But Kitty doesn’t have time to focus on it, as they’re reaching the stage, and the Māori locals are demonstrating the routine they’ll have to learn. After a few rounds of practice, Kitty’s pretty sure she’s got it. Emma? Not so much.

“Come on, it’s left arm, then right, then both!”

“That’s what I’m doing!”

“No, Emma, it’s really not. Come on, you can learn all those Latin law phrases but you cant learn a few dance moves?”

“Those are totally different things!”

“Well, you better pick up the pace. I don’t want you losing this for us.”

“I’m not—ugh!”

It’s harsh, sure, but deeply satisfying to give Emma a taste of her own medicine. Especially when the Best Friends complete the challenge ahead of them (Courtney giving Emma a smug little wave) and the Fashion Bloggers and Father and Son are running onto the scene to give it a shot. Though Dwayne seems more interested in hip hop moves than traditional Māori ones.

“We’ll fall behind if we keep practicing,” Kitty decides. She glances at Emma, who still hasn’t gotten the dance right, and huffs. “Okay, maybe if we’re intimidating enough, they won’t notice you screwing up the arms. Courtney definitely messed up the timing, but she looked like she wanted to rip out a man’s spine and feed it to him, so they passed her. Just follow my lead, and act angry.”

“That won’t be hard,” Emma says sourly.

“Act even angrier… pretend you’re dancing at Jake.”

That lights a fire in Emma’s eyes. She’s practically screaming at the Māori dancers as the Sisters perform, and it pays off—they’re approved to move on to the Chill Zone. They race against the Cadets and Goths for third place. Kitty pours on the speed like her life depends on it. It doesn’t, of course, but her relationship with Emma just might.

“Sisters, you’re in third!”

“Woohoo!” Kitty punches the air. Having just stepped out of the interview trailer, Alejandro shoots her a less-subtle thumbs up.

“Okay, that wasn’t the worst challenge ever,” Emma says. She’s crossing her arms, but she’s kind of smiling. “Third place is pretty good.”

“Still think I’m a dumb kid who can’t get anything right?”

“I never thought that.”

“Maybe not, but you sure act like it. All the damn time.”

“Well… ugh. I’m… maybe… sorry. You did pretty good today.”

“The bar’s low enough that I’ll accept that apology. As long as you treat me like a teammate. Not a subordinate.”

“I’ll try.”

“The bar’s not that low.”

“Okay, okay, I will. Treat you like a teammate.”

“Good,” Kitty says, and they spend the rest of the filming day in silence, watching the last five teams trickle in. Owen and Noah place seventh, the latter carrying a majorly ugly fish, and then Dwayne, Junior, and the Fashion Bloggers end up in a race for last place that turns out to not matter as it’s a non-elimination round. It’s not until the Sisters are in their hotel room, resting before getting dinner with the Pros, that Emma finally speaks again.

“It’s not that I think you’re stupid. Because you’re not. You’re just naive, and that can be as dangerous as being stupid. And I want you to be safe.”

“So you think that’s a good reason to boss me around?”

“I’m the older sister. Bossing you around is part of my job description. Don’t roll your eyes—it literally is. I’m the first. The guinea pig. All the mistakes I make are things you can avoid, if you just listen.”

“What exactly am I supposed to be listening to, Emma? What? You telling me how bad I am at everything? How am I supposed to avoid these mistakes if you won’t even tell me what they are?”

“I don’t need to tell you! All you need to do is stop being so trusting—”

“No!” Kitty grabs Emma’s arm. “I will not. Courtney said reality TV would take away my kindness, but you know what? You’re the one trying to do that. All this talk about not trusting anyone isn’t because you think it’s what’s best for me. It’s because some guy dumped you three years ago and you’re still not over it. You say you hate Jake? Well, I hate him too, because you’re using whatever happened with him as an excuse to shut me out of your life. God, you just put up all these walls like you’re under attack from everybody, when the only person who wants to get in is your sister who loves you—even when you make it really fucking hard! All I want—”

“Jake tried to baby-trap me.”

And that’s the absolute last thing Kitty expects Emma to say.

“What?”

Emma turns away. “Look, it didn’t work, it’s in the past, and that’s why I don’t want you making my mistakes and trusting people blindly. So now you know. And we don’t have to talk about it, ever, because I’m fine.”

“No, we are going to talk about it, Emma! Holy shit.”

“I really don’t…”

Kitty’s head is spinning. This is bad. Incredibly bad. This would explain a lot and now that Kitty has an explanation—or at least the start of one—she’s starting to feel sick. She knows Emma’s never wanted kids, especially not so young, after having to take care of Kitty most of their lives. The thought of someone trying to trick her into… and Jake? Kitty had met him, once or twice, and while he certainly wasn’t her type, she’d figured he was a decent guy. From what she saw he was charming, funny, and kind. He was smart, but more laidback than Emma, which Kitty thought would be good for her. Emma was happy with him, and he looked at her so adoringly. He was the first guy Emma had ever dated, after an adolescence of rejections, and Kitty wants to scream. How could someone try and do such a thing to her sister?

Her sister, who’s been on edge and guarded ever since. Her sister, who has lost the courage to trust anyone. Her sister, who is apparently terrified of the same thing happening to Kitty. Her sister, who is refusing to meet her eyes.

“Emma,” Kitty begs. “Please. For once… tell me. Everything.”

Emma sighs.

“I don’t think you ever knew how old he was. He was a second year law student, I was in my first year of undergrad. He was twenty three, and I was eighteen, but I didn’t think the age gap was an issue because he said I was mature and knew a lot more about practicing law than most of the women in his class. There was a lot of stuff he said like that, in the beginning. Stuff like, he’d be happy to help me study for my pre-law degree even though I was probably too smart to need that help. I should’ve seen it for what it was, but I was just so happy that somebody finally wanted me. Jake liked that I was hardworking and driven, whereas guys in the past said I was intense and insane. He was so sweet… and of course, he didn’t mean any of it. All he wanted was a hot younger girl to hang off his arm and be totally oblivious to the fact that he was an utter scumbag. And as soon as he built my confidence up enough to really get me to love him… he broke it down. Slowly, so I didn’t realize that him undermining me was why I felt so bad all the time. And then I kept losing track of my birth control, which I also blamed on my scattered mind, but when I caught him poking holes in the… well, reality kind of hit me all at once. I was so fucking stupid, and I’d never forgive myself if I couldn’t stop you from making the same mistake.”

“Oh my God,” Kitty says. Her sister still won’t meet her eyes. “You can’t seriously believe that’s your fault.”

Emma finally looks over at that. “What?”

“I said, you can’t seriously believe—”

“I heard you. And—it’s not my fault, not entirely, he was the one who—but it’s my mistake.”

“No the fuck it’s not! Jake abused your trust in the worst way possible, and you were supposed to, what? Figure out that asshole was manipulating you when that manipulation was meant to hide exactly that? Refuse to trust the guy, your boyfriend, who seemingly treated you great and had no reason not to be trusted? You didn’t make a mistake. You were used, but you didn’t make a mistake when everything that happened was all his fault.”

Kitty swallows. “The mistake you did make? Treating me like an idiot just because you felt like one. Trying to steer me away from your choices without ever telling me what they were. Shutting everyone out. Shutting me out. You’re my sister, Emma. I would never hurt you, not on purpose, but you’ve been hurting me for the last three years. We can’t… we can’t keep going like this.”

“Kit, I…” Emma’s hair is hanging in her face, so it takes Kitty a second to realize—

She’s crying.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I—”

Tears welling up in Kitty’s eyes, she leans forward and hugs her sister. 

“I missed you.”

Chapter Text

Seeing as an unexpectedly massive wave of nerve pain is what caused Alejandro to lose control of their glider in New Zealand, Courtney thinks herself entirely justified in asking, “How’s the leg?”

“Just leg-cellent.”

Courtney also thinks herself entirely justified in whacking Alejandro with her safety pamphlet.

“How dare you attack a wounded man?”

“I thought the leg was ‘just leg-cellent’?”

“It is. I’m good.”

“Be real with me, Alejandro.”

“I am being real, it’s not painful anymore.”

Courtney quirks an eyebrow.

“Fine, my foot’s a little numb, but that’s it. The pain meds are working. I should be up and running at full speed today.”

“You know, you don’t have to be unless we’re at risk of elimination. Taking it easier and placing low today is much better than placing high and then getting eliminated later on because your legs got even worse.”

“We are not going to be eliminated because of my legs!”

“That’s not what I was—I’m just trying to look out for you.”

Tilting his chin up to the ceiling, Alejandro huffs.

“Sorry. I know, I just—I hate feeling… fragile. Because I’m not. And my leg is nearly back to normal, so it’s not something either of us need to be stressing about.”

“Okay,” Courtney says. “I trust you.”

She does. Trust isn’t something that’s ever come easily to her, especially not after Harold sabotaged her and Duncan cheated on her and Gwen stabbed her in the back. Courtney’s not sure she could ever trust someone in the aftermath of that. Especially not Alejandro, after having run into him at university and hesitantly striking up a friendship. When they started, Courtney hadn’t realized how freeing it was to have someone else who understood the absurdity, the mentality, and frankly, the trauma inflicted by teenage reality television orchestrated by Chris McLean. 

Months after All Stars, Courtney still struggled to adjust to a lack of cameras and confessionals in her daily life. She couldn’t talk to any of her casual friends (well, classmates, really) about that, because then she’d have to explain Total Drama, and once they went down that rabbit hole, they’d never look at her like a normal person. Alejandro treated her how she wanted to be treated, because he’d been in the reality show trenches with her. And beyond that, they had a lot in common. An academic interest in history. Enjoying karaoke. Being overachievers. Dealing with strict parents who were hell-bent on their children excelling and were no doubt the cause of their overachieving tendencies in the first place. Eating more sweets than they should. The list goes on.

They’re on a flight to Alberta, watching some TV show about Mexican special effects artists creating a haunted house. Courtney’s sitting next to Alejandro, and she’s suddenly just… overwhelmed. Having him here. After Gwen, there was a time in her life where she genuinely thought she could never make another friend, but Alejandro’s proven her wrong. Again. And she couldn’t be more grateful.

Of course, Courtney doesn’t know how to word any of this, and she’s not sure she wants to, so she just rests her head on his shoulder. And he leans his head against hers.

They stay like that for a while, watching TV, until Kitty scurries up to Alejandro, beaming.

He pauses the show. “I take it things with Emma have been improving?”

“Yes. I mean, we had a really rough talk, and finding a new normal is definitely gonna take some trial and error, but yeah. Things are a lot better now. I think I’m finally starting to get my sister back.” Kitty blinks rapidly. “Wow, sorry. It’s a lot. Last night was emotional. But so worth it. Yeah. I just—I wanted to tell you because you let me talk through all that stuff with you on the train yesterday. Thanks, again.”

“Of course. I’m glad to hear things are getting better, really. That makes me very happy to hear.”

Okay, Courtney doesn’t know what that’s all about. She’d spent the train ride debating the finer points of a few court cases with Emma. The air had been charged with a tension similar to that of their verbal battles in class, but it was more… fun. Something Courtney certainly hadn’t been expecting, seeing as their friendly rivalry had been jerked into more dangerous waters in Dubai, but it seemed they were back on their usual track. Courtney had always been pleasantly irritated with Emma pre-race, but getting to see her outside of the classroom this much has got her thinking that if they weren’t competing against one another, Emma might actually be the kind of girl Courtney wouldn’t mind being friends with. She’s sharp, and witty, and isn’t afraid to step up and take charge. Plus, her hair is really shiny—which has nothing to do with their friendship, which isn’t a friendship, it’s a rivalry, so Courtney banishes all amicable thoughts of Emma and her shiny hair.

“Is that Los Espookys?”

Nearly jumping at the unexpected voice, Courtney turns to see Noah standing in the row behind her. Next to him is Owen, spread out across two seats and clutching a stuffed dog, dead to the world. Across the aisle from the Pros is Emma, also asleep, and Kitty, who’s apparently returned to her seat and is listening to music.

“Oh, yeah,” Alejandro says. “My uncle recommended it. It’s weird, but quite amusing.”

“That’s what I’ve heard. My older sister keeps trying to get me to watch it with her, but—”

“You have an older sister?”

“I have eight.”

“Tu puta madre,” Courtney and Alejandro chorus, and Noah actually laughs.

“Yeah, they’re a lot.”

“I can’t believe I didn’t know that,” Alejandro says. “We should form a club. You, me, and Kitty, for the sake of younger sibling solidarity.”

“Speaking of that… what’s been going on with you and Kitty?”

Owen mumbles something in his sleep that sounds a lot like “Jealous?” before snoring with renewed vigor. 

Ignoring him, Noah continues. “‘Cause I heard some of what she was saying over here, and I know she and Emma were fighting up until this morning. And I’m just—were you helping her?”

This is an odd conversation to be having, Courtney decides. She knows the Pros are in an alliance with the Sisters—dubbed “The Airport Alliance” if what she’s overheard is to be believed—so she figures it makes sense that Noah would be protective over Kitty if she’s spending time with the notoriously manipulative Alejandro. Even though Courtney’s never really seen Noah care about someone he’s only recently met. But he doesn’t sound accusatory. Just curious.

“I was letting her vent, and giving her some advice,” Alejandro says. “I’m not trying to impose on your alliance. We’re certainly doing well enough to not need to—” Courtney swells with pride at that “—so I didn’t see any harm in helping her out.”

“Huh. You know, I actually believe you.”

Alejandro smiles at that. So does Owen, and now Courtney’s very sure he’s faking sleep.

“I’m just glad things are working out for the Sisters.”

“Yeah, Emma actually ate breakfast with the rest of us this morning, which was nice.”

“Good!”

Noah shakes his head. “Sorry. Just—it’s weird seeing you of all people be so genuine.”

Him saying that out loud unsettles Courtney, because she’s supposed to be the only person Alejandro is truly genuine around. Not Noah. And now the two are smiling at one another.

What’s that all about?

Courtney gets to drive the pick-up truck once they reach Alberta, and all it takes is pointing out that it was Alejandro’s turn to drive last time, and he crashed their glider. She doesn’t even have to pull the “your foot is still having issues which is not good considering you’d have to use it to brake” card. Though when, ahead of them, the Ice Dancers and Police Cadets go careening off a short cliff, Alejandro cheekily says, “Try not to follow in their footsteps.”

“You know I would, just to stick it to you.”

“I know. Please don’t.”

He’s certainly not looking as cheerfully mischievous when the Best Friends discover the next challenge is an All In, where they’ll have to eat an entire pot of pork and beans.

“It’s not that bad,” Alejandro says, after Courtney gives him a look. “It’s just… a lot.”

“Well, we better get to it,” Courtney says, because the Surfers are already chowing down (weren’t they on the second flight?) and the Goths have just run in. There’s no need to announce that Courtney is going to be doing most of the eating—it’s obvious enough. Though Alejandro is certainly making an effort to stomach spoonfuls of beans.

As they begin plowing through their pot, the Sisters show up, and then the Father and Son. Courtney doesn’t even want to know whether Dwayne’s face tattoo is permanent or not. Some people have no sense of professionalism. Or impulse control.

“Wow, Courtney,” Kitty calls from across the room, “you sure can eat fast!”

“This is nothing to her. She’s got an iron stomach,” Alejandro brags.

Courtney nudges him. “Less talking, more eating!”

He picks up his spoon grimly as the Surfer Dudes announce their completion… and are faced with a mechanical bull. Brody still hasn’t mastered riding it by the time the Reality TV Pros, Police Cadets, Ice Dancers and Fashion Bloggers start the All In. The latter two teams are entirely disgusted by the task, while Owen and MacArthur are delighted. The Reality TV Pros get sat near the Best Friends and fall into a similar pattern, with Courtney and Owen eating the majority of the beans, and their teammates taking it a bit slower.

“I think Don’s been going soft with these food challenges,” Noah says at one point. “This seems like it would be a pretty normal meal for, like, Americans or something.”

“Do you think most Americans are cowboys?” Alejandro asks.

“No, but they do consume absurd amounts of mildly nauseating food.”

“So does Owen, I presume.”

“Yeah, but Owen’s aggressively Canadian.”

“Sorry,” Owen says through a mouthful of beans.

Alejandro snorts and turns back to Noah. “How can he be aggressively Canadian if part of the stereotype is not being aggressive?”

“That’s just semantics. Call it exaggeratedly Canadian.”

“Doesn’t exaggeration imply it’s not the usual state?”

“I dunno. I’d call you exaggeratedly Spanish, but I’m not actually sure if you play it up or if that’s natural.”

“It’s a weird combination,” Courtney says, swallowing a mouthful of beans. “Like, the whole hot-blooded Latino schtick? Absolute fucking lie. I’ve seen him bury himself in blankets during our movie nights. But he can dance a mean flamenco.”

“It’s not just flamenco, I can do lots of dances. My mom had me take classes as a kid.”

“That’s kind of adorable,” Noah says, and then immediately looks away. Huh. But Courtney doesn’t have time to ponder that, as Owen peers into the Pros’ pot and gasps. “I see the tip!”

Noah reaches in, but Alejandro grabs his arm. “Careful. I overheard the Surfers reading the tip—whoever grabs it has to ride.”

Screaming, Brody sails over them and crashes into the kitchen.

“Thanks for the heads up,” Noah says. He withdraws his arm from the pot, but Alejandro keeps holding onto it.

“Yeah, that bull would toss you around like a hacky sack!” Owen chimes in, grabbing the Travel Tip himself. “Leave this one to me.”

“Sweet. I love this challenge—all I have to do is drive for ten minutes and eat a moderate amount of beans.”

“I didn’t even get to drive,” Alejandro pouts.

Courtney rolls her eyes. “Because the last time you drove, you crashed our plane. Into Noah and Owen’s plane.”

“You drove a bus off a cliff!”

“That was circumstantial!”

“Wow, what a dynamic. You two should be on TV,” Noah deadpans. “So, who’s gonna ride the bull for you two? Alejandro, maybe? Show us if that bullfighting—”

Courtney’s frantic shut the fuck up, don’t get him started on this hand gestures go unnoticed.

“—stereotype is true or not?”

“Absolutely not! Bullfighting is an archaic, disgusting sport, if it can even be called such a thing, and I will never support—”

“I tried to warn you,” Courtney says to a wide-eyed Noah. “He’s very passionate.”

“Uh, yeah, I can see that.”

“—nothing but a cruel torture of a helpless animal—”

Owen waves. “Noah, come on! It’s almost my turn!”

“—ritualistic slaughter—”

“Alejandro, you mind letting go? I need to cheer Owen on as he does something stupid and dangerous. You know, just another Tuesday.”

“—there’s no art in—what? Oh.” Alejandro releases Noah’s arm. “Sorry. Got a bit carried away.”

“Hey, it’s nice to know you have that strong of a moral stance on something.”

“Part of my family’s mission is to eliminate the practice of bullfighting. We Burromuertos don’t always see eye to eye, but this, we will never disagree on.”

“The necklace makes a lot more sense now. Definitely looks cooler than a donkey.”

Courtney waves the Travel Tip in Alejandro’s face. “Hello, can we start heading to the next challenge?”

“Right, sorry!”

“Told you not to get him started,” Courtney mutters to Noah, who shrugs. 

The Surfer Dudes and Goths are already running for the Chill Zone, and Courtney is determined not to fall behind any further. Owen completes his ride in one try, and then it’s Courtney’s turn. Determined, she clambers atop the bull, holding on tightly as it bucks her around. Alejandro cheers, and Courtney grins at him—until her eyes slide to the side. There stand the Sisters who, having finished their pot of beans are now watching Courtney. Sunlight streams through the windows, turning Emma’s glossy hair a dark brown in the light. Courtney wonders if her hair is coarse like her own, or silk smoother, or—

BAM!

“Ow,” Courtney groans, pulling herself out from the hay bales she’d been launched into. Fuck, she’s botched the challenge. In front of Emma, providing her with ample ammunition for teasing. How could Courtney let herself get distracted? By her rival’s hair, of all the trivial things?

Alejandro helps her up, and she brushes off his concern. Stupid, so stupid of her, when she should’ve had that in the bag. Now they’re at the back of the line, as the contestants going before them—MacArthur and Kitty—complete the challenge in one try.

“Alright!” Emma high-fives Kitty. “I’m seriously impressed!”

“Finally!”

Courtney mounts the bull. No distractions this time, she vows to herself, and devoting her entire focus to staying on the machine (and berating herself for failing in the first place) has her finishing the challenge on her second try. “Hurry!”

On their run to the Chill Zone, when Courtney finally snaps out of her inner monologue of stupid, stupid, stupid, what’s so great about Emma’s hair anyway, stupid, stupid, she realizes that Alejandro is easily keeping pace with her. Good. His leg must be on the mend after all.

“Best Friends, you’re in sixth place!”

“Not great, but better than last,” Alejandro says, though Courtney knows it’s just to console her. He’s too competitive to truly feel so flippantly about placing low, and she likes him for it. “What did everyone else place?”

Sanders starts counting off on her fingers. “Surfers got first, Pros got second, Goths got third, we got fourth—”

“Yeah! Cadets for the win!”

“—thank you, MacArthur, Sisters got fifth, you two got sixth—”

“Ice Dancers, you’re in seventh!” Don announces.

As the rest of the contestants watch the last two teams—Father and Son, and the Fashion Bloggers—race to the Chill Zone, Alejandro pulls Courtney aside. “What was that about?”

“What was what about?”

“You were totally owning that bull, and then it was as if you completely spaced out. Don’t tell me it was nothing—I heard you muttering to yourself on the run here.”

“I was muttering?” Courtney says, and at Alejandro’s nod, she admits, “I didn’t mean to. Just annoyed with myself.”

“What happened?”

“It’s nothing.”

“It was pretty clearly something.”

“It was something small and stupid.”

Alejandro gives her puppy-dog eyes. “Tell me anyway?”

“Fine,” Courtney groans, running a finger through her curls. “Emma’s hair just… looked unexpectedly good in the light, and I was wondering what shampoo she uses. See? Small and stupid.”

She waits for Alejandro to tease her, or frown, but his face is caught in a partially delighted, partially shocked, and partially concerned expression. It’s actually hilariously unflattering on him.

“What?”

“Oh. Oh no. Surely not. But then again, it would make sense—not to mention how funny it would…”

“How funny what would be?” Courtney asks. “You wanna fill me in?”

Alejandro shakes his head. “No. Not until I’m sure.”

“Sure about what?”

“I can’t spoil the surprise,” he sing-songs.

“You’re the worst.”

Whatever Alejandro is going to say next is cut off by Don’s declaration of, “Bloggers, you’re in eighth place!”

“Aw, looks like Junior and Dwayne are going home,” Kitty says. “Bummer.”

The team in question sprints to the Chill Zone, slowing to a trudge when they realize what’s in store. After Don announces their elimination, several people say goodbye—Kitty ruffles Junior’s hair, the Surfers give him a massive hug, Owen claps him on the back, even Alejandro shakes his hand, which causes Junior to turn bright red, and yeah, Courtney’s pretty sure the kid’s got a puppy crush on her best friend now. After the farewells, Father and Son are whisked off by the crew while the remaining contestants hang around the Chill Zone, waiting for the bus to their hotel. 

“I can’t believe there are just eight teams left now!” Owen says. “And to think we started with eighteen!”

Tom nods. “It’s been, what, two weeks of this?”

“Just about,” Sanders says.

Geoff gasps. “Dudes, we should do something! Let’s all get dinner together!”

“Yeah!” Brody cheers. “Who’s down for pork n’ beans?”

“NO!”  

Chapter Text

It’s not like Alejandro is expecting dinner to go well.

Everyone relaxes in their hotel rooms until nine o’clock, rather late for dinner if they hadn’t already consumed a massive amount of pork and beans that afternoon. The Goths and the Ice Dancers decline to attend the outing, but the remaining six teams meet up in the lobby to go to whatever restaurant the Sisters have found—the Surfers lost that privilege when everyone realized Brody was actually being serious about getting more beans for dinner. After a short walk, everyone is cramming in around a table. It’s a tight fit, and Alejandro can’t stop bumping elbows with Courtney, though she hardly seems to notice seeing as she’s absorbed in some argument with Emma. 

Wait, no, not an argument. They’re both… smiling?

“So I see him walking up the stairs, and there’s no way I can beat him to the classroom,” Courtney is telling Emma. “But what he doesn’t know is that I’ve had my fair share of practice climbing surfaces that, by all means, should not be climbed on. So I run back outside until I find the window—”

Slapping her hand on the table, Emma laughs. “You scaled the side of the building? How high up was it?”

“The fourth floor!”

Courtney joins Emma’s giggling, and the story floods back to Alejandro. The very first university class they had taken together was a required gen-ed, a world history class. Their professor had a policy that anyone who came after him to class would be marked tardy—reasonable, had he not regularly arrived to class fifteen minutes early. Poor Courtney’s prior class was on the opposite side of campus, often meaning she would have to sprint to the humanities building in order to make it to class on time. One memorable class had started with Courtney tapping on the window, having climbed four stories of brick wall to save her so-far perfect attendance record. Alejandro had rushed over to open the window and help her to her feet, just as their professor had walked in. He (along with the rest of the class) gawked at her, not expecting such a show of athletics from such a decorous student. 

Alejandro had just smiled at Courtney, an amicable understanding passing between the two. If he had to pinpoint the exact moment their acquaintanceship sparked into a friendship, it would be those knowing grins they exchanged back then.

“I actually used to go to university campuses to practice parkour,” Emma admits to Courtney. “There’s a ton of great structural stuff you can experiment with, and everyone thinks you’re just a weird student. Seems like a great idea when you’re fifteen but look older. Of course, when you’re eighteen and suddenly you’re touring all these universities trying to figure out where to go, it’s embarrassing as hell for some random security guard to point and yell at you for trying to do a backflip off a statue three years ago.”

“That’s so weird to picture you doing as a kid. Don’t tell me you were also a skater!”

“Nah, that was Kitty. Oh, hey, we’ve got Leblanc for class next year, right?”

“Yeah, why?”

“Well, he’s also got that dumbass ‘you’re late if I get there before you’ policy. Might be handy to brush up on those climbing skills.”

“Good thinking,” Courtney says. “You want some pointers? We could start every class with a race to the window.”

“That depends on how high the window is! And on what I’m wearing.”

“Oh, yeah, good thinking. Ripping that Wright & Co. shirt would have Mia haunting you for life.”

Emma breaks out into a grin. “Wait, you’re an Ace Attorney fan too?”

“Yes! It’s so embarrassing though, because you’re a law student, and the whole game is so totally not how the law works—”

“Because it’s a parody of Japanese law,” Emma says, and then the two are off geeking out over Courtney’s video game guilty pleasure. Alejandro can’t help but snort to himself. They’re such lawyers. 

It’s nice to see them getting along, for a change. And it’s definitely adding to Alejandro’s growing theory that Courtney has a bit of a crush on Emma. If that’s the case, she certainly hasn’t realized it yet. But she had been distracted by Emma’s hair during the last challenge, and Alejandro didn’t sit through an hour-long drunken ramble about how great Gwen’s hair was to not make the connection.

He doesn’t want to push it, though. They’re still in a competition, Courtney’s sworn off dating, and from what he’s seen, Emma can be a bit… emotionally volatile. Best to stay out of things for now.

Across the table from the budding law students, MacArthur and Brody are exchanging prank stories, MacArthur being somewhat of a prankster legend at the Academy from what Alejandro can overhear, which only serves to increase his desire to further avoid her. Geoff and Owen are reminiscing about a summer camp—wait, no, the very first season of Total Drama—while Jen tries to do some kind of personal color consultant work for a respectably patient Sanders. Kitty and Tom are swatching some new lip glosses that one of them (or both of them? Alejandro’s not sure) recently bought, and the duo nearly knocks over a bowl of soup in excitement.

It’s loud, and it’s social, and as much as he’s glad his best friend is having a good time, Alejandro isn’t. He’s tired. His legs are sore, his pain medication is wearing off, and there’s not enough room for him to stretch out under the table. He’d really like nothing more than to go back to his hotel room and take a hot bath, then put on some dumb reality show that Courtney will tease him for liking but end up watching with him anyway. But he’s here, because Alejandro knows as well as any reality TV contestant with more than half a brain that what happens behind the camera is just as important as what happens in front of the camera in regards to a show’s social game. So he’s joined Courtney to keep up their appearance of a team, a united front that will take significant effort to break—not that that’s anything other than the truth, but they have to make sure the other teams know it. Seeing as how the Goths and Ice Dancers opted out of dinner, that already makes them look unwilling to socialize and therefore ally with any other teams, many of which are currently presenting themselves as friendly and harmless. Just looking around the table, Alejandro could easily see the Surfer Dudes forming an alliance with the Police Cadets. Or perhaps the Fashion Bloggers could align themselves with another team, seeing as they’re one of the weaker duos remaining.

Regardless, Alejandro is already exhausted by the balancing act he’s currently performing—trying to present as a strong team without appearing as a threat, seeming sociable without talking any more than necessary, and not drawing a tipsy Geoff’s attention as to avoid freshly reminding him of the whole Bridgette-pole-kissing debacle and thus making an enemy of the Surfer Dudes. Not that they’re much of a threat, but being disliked by such affable people could make enemies of other, more formidable teams.

Noah, who’s been fairly quiet throughout the dinner, finally pushes his chair back and says, “Alright, I’m gonna turn in early—” and when Owen reluctantly goes to stand “—nah, big guy, you can keep hanging if you want.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. Tell Geoff about the Christmas cake fiasco.”

“Oh my God, so Noah and I went on this one cooking show—”

“Why don’t I walk with you?” Alejandro stands up. “I’m certainly ready for bed as well. Courtney, will you be alright getting back?”

Courtney doesn’t even register his words, too engrossed in whatever internship tale Emma is telling her.

“¿Abogadita?”

Still no response.

“She’ll be alright,” Alejandro says, beginning to make his way outside with Noah, while a few people call “Goodnight!” after them.

“What was that you called her?” Noah asks, as they set off down the sidewalk.

“Abogadita. Little lawyer.”

“That’s disgustingly cute.”

“She hates it, she complains it’s not proper grammar whenever I say it.”

“You can see why I thought you two were dating, right?”

“Oh please, aren’t you and Owen ‘little buddy’ and ‘big guy’?”

“Yeah, we are… so what does she call you?”

“…Nothing.”

“Oh, come on, Alejandro, you’re such a great liar and you couldn’t make that sound believable?”

“It’s silly!”

“Hey, I named my dog Ark because—”

“Noah’s Ark?”

“In my defense, I was fourteen.”

“No, no, it’s clever.”

“Not that clever. You’re deflecting, I know you are.”

“You really aren’t going to let this go.”

“Nope. What does Courtney call you?”

“Ale-saurus.” Alejandro sincerely hopes the streetlight isn’t bright enough to illuminate his blush. “Like the Allosaurus. Because I’m studying paleontology.”

“Oh my God. I was right. Disgustingly cute.”

“Do not tell anyone.”

“I won’t. But I have to say, I’m surprised—I know you hate people screwing up your name.”

“I… do. I very much do. Did you know Lindsay once called me Jalapeño?”

“Fucking… Jalapeño?”

“Awful.”

“If it makes you feel any better, she did call Tyler by my name for like a week, remember?”

“I don’t know which one of you should’ve been more insulted by that.”

“Seriously.” Noah shakes his head, chuckling to himself. “Ale-saurus. Huh.”

“Only Courtney is allowed to call me that. And very, very sparingly. Certainly not on camera.”

“It’s cool, I get it. You’re Alejandro, and Alejandro only to me.”

And Alejandro finds himself admitting, “That’s part of why I thought we were friends, you know.”

“Wh—oh, back on—”

“Yeah. You always addressed me by my full name. No stupid puns or bastardizations, just—Alejandro.”

“It’s a nice name.”

“Thanks.”

“Plus, I saw how you’d glare at Owen every time he fucked it up—you’re not as good as hiding your emotions as you think, you know.”

Alejandro pouts.

“See, exactly.”

“I suppose I can’t get anything past you, cerebrito.”

“What does that mean?”

“It’s a secret. Seeing as I don’t have any others I can keep from you.”

Standing in the lobby of the hotel, Noah just stares at him, before chuckling again.

“What?”

“Owen was right—you really have mellowed out. Don’t worry, it’s a good look on you.”

“Thank you?”

“You’re a bit of a dork, actually.”

“Wh—I am not!”

“Oh, you so are.”

“Am not.”

“Don’t worry, denial is the first step toward acceptance.”

“I am not a dork!”

Cackling, Noah saunters down the hallways, and despite himself, Alejandro grins.

The plane ride the next morning is only a few hours, but it’s cold, and too loud to talk in the Cessna. The Best Friends and the Sisters are on the third of four planes flying to the Arctic Circle, and Alejandro is consumed with anticipation as they get closer and closer to their destination. They’ll have to hustle. Placing sixth out of nine yesterday was incredibly frustrating, especially as they’d been primed for at least fourth until Courtney had lost her grip on the bull. Not that Alejandro has much room to complain, as the history of his entire rivalry with Heather would make that rather hypocritical of him. Besides, Courtney had done the majority of the work for the last challenge, so Alejandro vows to step up his game today.

When they land, the crew gives them thermal protection to put on under their regular clothes. The four take turns changing behind partitions.

“I can’t believe we actually get winter gear,” Courtney says, pulling on her beanie.

Alejandro adjusts his earmuffs. “What a treat. Remember Sweden?”

“Remember the Yukon?”

“I’m still hoping Geoff doesn’t.”

“About that,” Courtney starts to say, but the Best Friends have already reached the Don Box, and are quickly distracted by the Travel Tip.

In perfect accordance to Alejandro’s goal of carrying them to first place, it’s his turn to do the Botch or Watch. Rings are a bit difficult to find, seeing as half the competition is already digging in the snow. But it’s anyone’s game, as by the time the Ice Dancers and Fashion Bloggers arrive, nobody has ringed a narwhal.

“Loki!”

At Ennui’s almost emotional exclamation, several people turn (Alejandro included) to see the little black bunny flying through the air, headed straight for the Arctic Ocean.

Diving across the snow, Emma slides forward on her stomach (like a penguin, Alejandro absurdly thinks) and manages to grab Loki inches before he hits the water. “Got him!”

“Dudes!” Geoff runs over to the Goths, who are gratefully taking their bunny back. “I am so sorry, I was digging and I totally didn’t see the little guy—”

“You should be more careful. All of you,” Emma says. “Just giving a bunny a bath could give it hypothermia, or an infection. Water that cold could’ve killed him instantly!”

“She had a pet bunny when we were kids,” Kitty helpfully tells the general vicinity.

Ennui tucks Loki back into his shirt. “It’s not his time yet.”

“Thank you,” Crimson says to Emma. “We’ll remember this.”

The Goths look over at Geoff, who groans.

“Aw man, I’m botching this challenge so bad I nearly got a little bunny killed!”

His whimpering is interrupted by a very French cackle. Everyone turns to Josee.

“Oh, that wasn’t about the bunny thing. I just ringed a narwhal!”

“See you all at ze finish line!” Jacques calls, lifting her up into some crazy ice dancing pose and running off to the Don Box. Their giggling gets even louder and Frencher (if such a thing is possible) as they take their Travel Tip and speed off on their snow mobile.

But not before Josee calls to Geoff, “Oh, hey, good luck! I hope you don’t lose your best friend because you’re so bad at this.”

So the Ice Dancers are definitely playing mind games with Geoff. Interesting.

Alejandro turns back to the water, only to see Ennui holding a ring out in front of him. A narwhal surfaces directly below, and he drops the ring onto it’s horn.

“Whoa!”

“Cool!”

While the remaining competitors titter, the Goths take their next Travel Tip, the Pros following shortly behind. Alejandro doesn’t have time to focus on that—he’s got a challenge to complete. A challenge that everybody else seems to be struggling with. Emma’s not bad at ring tossing, but she never quite finds her mark. Tom is struggling to scrounge up rings in the first place, Sanders keeps letting go too late, probably still adjusting to the grip of her gloves, and no matter how many rings Geoff seems to find, he can’t land a single one on a narwhal horn.

Rooting through the snow, Alejandro emerges with another ring and makes his way back to the ocean.

“Yes!” Emma shouts, and Alejandro turns to see a freshly ringed narwhal. Before it can move, he throws his ring with a sharp twitch of his wrist, and it flies perfectly on target.

Courtney cheers. “Nice one! Let’s go!”

They grab the Travel Tip just after the Sisters, and before Courtney can argue, Alejandro hops onto the front of the snow mobile. Grumbling, she climbs on behind him, and they speed off after the Sisters. Alejandro proves he is not utterly incompetent behind the wheel, and he nearly drives them to the Don Box with zero incidents, when he sees a snow mobile heading in the opposite direction.

A snow mobile being driven by Noah.

Much to Courtney’s displeasure, Alejandro slows down—as does Emma in front of them—and shouts, “What are you doing? The Don Box is that way!”

“The Ice Dancers boomeranged us!” Owen shouts back.

“That sucks!” Kitty calls, but the Pros are already speeding past them and back to the water. Not that Alejandro can blame them—they’re going to need as much time as they can get to do that challenge again.

The Best Friends make it to the Don Box intact—Alejandro is so using this as ammo the next time they bicker about who gets to drive—and get started on the final challenge. By the time they’ve built a solid base for their igloo, every team but the Police Cadets has arrived. Even the Pros, which Alejandro is grateful for, as it would be a shame for them to get eliminated due to the Ice Dancers’ (technically legal) sabotage.

And speaking of Ice Dancers’ sabotage, Alejandro spots Josee approaching Geoff, and remembering how she’d been messing with him earlier, creeps into earshot of their conversation.

“Listen, you need to pick it up. Brody told Jacques that you’ve been dragging him down.”

“Is he upset about the snowmobile thing too?”

“Very.”

Josee flitters away, Geoff sighs, and the crew begins to pull him aside for an interview.

“Mind if I interject?”

Geoff shoots Alejandro a despondent look. “What do you want?”

“Shockingly enough, to help,” Alejandro says. “Josee is blatantly manipulating you. She’s clearly threatened by the fact that you and Brody won the last challenge, and she’s trying to use your own insecurities to ensure your self destruction. Have the Ice Dancers ever shown concern for you or Brody in any challenge prior to this?”

“Well… no… they didn’t even get dinner with us last night.”

“Exactly.”

“They’ve been messing with my mind?”

“Yep.”

“Dude, that’s so not cool!” Geoff blinks. “Wait, why are you telling me this?”

“Partially because the Ice Dancers’ ham-fisted attempts at manipulation are painful for someone as skilled as me to watch. But I figures I owed you one after everything that happened with Bridgette on World Tour.”

And because Mal had taught Alejandro a valuable lesson—nobody believes a former villain when he cries wolf. Someone as well-liked as Geoff could have the credibility Alejandro lacks to reveal the Ice Dancers’ true nature to the rest of the competition.

“But… you’re a bad guy,” Geoff says.

“What, and I can’t get tired of that role?”

“Hmm. I guess I did have my own villain arc, trying to hurt my friends for fun…”

“You what now?”

“But I’m not Captain Hollywood anymore!”

“Captain who?”

“And it really looks like you’re Gwen-and-Leshawna friends with Courtney, not Lindsay-and-Heather friends.”

“What are we talking about?”

“Okay, we’re cool,” Geoff decides. “Don’t get me wrong, dude, I don’t wanna be buddies, but we can put the cheating thing behind us. Thanks for the heads up on the Ice Dancers.”

“Good luck with the race,” Alejandro tells him, and Geoff jogs back over to Brody with a renewed cheer. Alejandro turns to go help Courtney, and is immediately met with Noah’s raised eyebrow.

“What was that about?”

There are plenty of responses to that, from “Just making up for an old wrong,” to “The Ice Dancers are evil, but you already knew that,” to “What’s Captain Hollywood?”

Unfortunately, Alejandro’s brain is short circuiting, because Noah looks obnoxiously adorable with a beanie perched on top of his head, pieces of dark chocolate hair sticking out every which way.

“You’re wearing a beanie.”

“Yeah, ‘cause we got that cold weather gear, which is a nice change from—”

“That’s the best thing I’ve ever seen you in,” Alejandro blurts out, and once his brain has caught up to his mouth, he adds, “though with your sense of fashion, it’s a very low bar.”

“Wow, you weren’t even trying to hide the backhanded part of that compliment.”

“You know me, a slippery eel.”

“Is that why you were chatting with Geoff?”

“Actually, no. I noticed the Ice Dancers trying to mess with his brain, so I put a stop to it.”

“Out of the goodness of your heart?”

“Out of the opportunity to no longer have Geoff be mad about the whole Bridgette thing.”

Noah nods. “Makes sense. It also wouldn’t do you much good to have your villain role usurped.”

“Mal already took care of that,” Alejandro mutters. “And besides, I’ve hardly done anything malicious on this show. My role isn’t that of the villain any more.”

“What would you say it is, then?”

“Perhaps a strikingly gorgeous antihero.”

“So like a hot Duncan.”

“Genuinely, that is the worst thing you’ve ever said to me.”

“Worse than calling you an eel?”

“I would rather be an eel than a hot Duncan.”

“What are you two fucking talking about?”

Alejandro and Noah turn to see Courtney staring at them.

“I came over here to drag you back to our igloo, and you’re telling Noah how hot my ex-boyfriend is?”

“You’re taking that out of context,” Alejandro says.

“Even in context we weren’t calling him hot,” Noah explains. “I wasn’t kidding when I said you have terrible taste in men. Well. Had.”

“Thank you, Noah, I really value that opinion.” Rolling her eyes, Courtney starts pulling Alejandro back to their igloo. “I know you two are sorta-friends, but can you please stay focused? I mean, what was that with Geoff?”

Once again, Alejandro explains his interference in the Ice Dancers’ manipulation of Geoff, and then the man’s apparent forgiveness of him.

“Huh,” Courtney says. “You know, he actually talked to me about you yesterday.”

“He did? What did he say?”

“That he thought you might be using me again, so he’s actually been trying to keep an eye on me during the competition. But it got to the point where he couldn’t tell if that was the case or if we were actually friends, so he finally just asked me about it after you left dinner last night.”

“What’d you tell him?”

“The truth. That we really are friends, and that I trust you. And he believed me, but he said he was trying to look out for me, because he knows I went through a lot of shitty things on Total Drama. That he understood being cheated on, and how it can mess with your sense of who to trust. It’s funny. We used to be friends, during our very first season—on the same team, he was flirting with my best friend back then while Duncan flirted with me—but we didn’t really talk after that. I figured he just didn’t care all that much about me, which was fine, because it wasn’t like we were close or anything, but… I dunno. It’s nice to know, that after all this time, he was trying to have my back. Even if there was no real threat.”

“Do I have to worry about losing my best friend to Geoff?” Alejandro asks lightheartedly.

“Are you kidding me? He wears a cowboy hat, Alejandro!”

“Duncan had a mohawk!”

Courtney throws a snowball at him. He throws one back, and then they quickly return to building their igloo, because the Ice Dancers, Sisters, and Surfers (somehow?) are already gone. They manage to land in a respectable fourth place, followed by the Fashion Bloggers, and then the five teams stand out of the way as the Goths, Police Cadets, and Reality TV Pros race to avoid being eliminated.

Watching with bated breath, Alejandro can’t conceal the way his face falls when—

“Noah, Owen, you’re the last team to arrive,” Don says. “Sending you home is…”

Pursing his lips in disappointment, Noah pats Owen’s arm. Owen gives Noah’s shoulder a supportive squeeze in return.

“…exactly what I’d do if this was an elimination round, but it’s not! You’re safe!”

“Awesome!” Owen cheers. Noah breaks into a smile, and off to the side, Alejandro catches the Sisters letting out sighs of relief.

Not that he can blame them—Alejandro can tell he’s grinning like an idiot at the news, but frankly, he doesn’t care who sees.

Noah is safe. He’s still in the game.

“That was way too close for comfort,” Noah is saying to Owen. “Let’s try to avoid those boomerangs, huh, buddy?”

Owen pulls Noah into a hug. “Totally!”

Then, looking over Noah’s shoulder, Owen locks eyes with Alejandro. Who’s definitely still got a delighted expression plastered onto his face.

And Owen… winks at Alejandro?

How odd.

Chapter Text

Owen is, like, ninety five percent sure Alejandro has a thing for his best buddy.

Of course, that’s not what he’s focusing on right now—all Owen can think about is how a rushed takeoff on a cargo plane is not a good start to any challenge. And not good for Owen’s anxiety, as he’s currently clutching Arky so tightly that the poor little guy’s button eyes almost pop off. There’s no way he can deal with seventeen hours on a Jumbo Jet lookalike, so he nudges Noah, and says, “I think I’m gonna ask Al to hypnotize me again.”

“Alejandro.”

“What?”

“Alejandro. He doesn’t like being called Al.”

“Right, right. Totally forgot. You cool with that?”

“With Alejandro?”

Owen had actually been asking if Noah was cool with Alejandro hypnotizing him, but not wanting to waste a chance at seeing if Noah returns the feelings Owen is very sure Alejandro has for him, he says, “Yeah, are you guys friends now?”

“I… think so,” Noah says. “We’re friendly, at least. He’s not a bad guy to talk to.”

“Or look at,” Owen can’t help but add, and is rewarded with a blank look from Noah that is also, somehow, a glare. 

When it appears Noah isn’t going to humor him with a verbal response to that comment, Owen decides to back off, asking, “But are you cool with him hypnotizing me? You seemed pretty freaked out by it last time.”

“I mean, I don’t entirely understand how it works, but I doubt Alejandro is going to use it to hurt you in any way. And I know how rough these kinds of flights are for you. If it helps, then go for it.”

“Aw, good to hear, buddy!”

Owen very carefully makes his way across the plane. The Ice Dancers are scowling at the Surfer Dudes, who are chatting with Kitty and the Fashion Bloggers. Emma is buried in that textbook of hers, while the Police Cadets thumb wrestle, and the Goths sit silently with Loki. Noah follows Owen up to Alejandro, who is flipping through a magazine while Courtney braids tiny bits of her hair. And tiny bits of his hair.

“Hi Alejandro!” Owen says, remembering to use his full name at the last second.

“Ah, Owen. Let me guess, you’d like to be hypnotized?”

“If you don’t mind. This is a bit too similar to the Jumbo Jet for comfort.”

“I figured.”

“So how does it all work?” Noah asks. “The hypnotism, I mean, what’s the science—”

“Ah-ah-ah, slow your roll, cerebrito. It won’t work if Owen’s aware of what exactly I’m about to do. I’ll explain it after I put him under.”

“That sounds like you’re giving him anesthesia.”

“To be fair, that’s similar to what we’ve done on a bunch of flights,” Owen points out.

“With what, horse tranquilizers?” Courtney asks.

“Actually, it’s a bottle of NyQuil and—”

“Forget I asked.”

Alejandro gestures for Owen to sit down on a nearby bench, and waves his hand in front of Owen’s face.

“Concentrate on the sound of my voice,” he says, and Owen closes his eyes, only to open them what feels like a second later. But it’s not, ‘cause now most of the teams are spread around the cabin, asleep. Emma is drooling, Geoff’s hat is pulled over his face, and Crimson and Ennui are squeezed next to each other on a bench, lying flat on their backs. It’s cute, and a little creepy, seeing as their arms are crossed over their chests like corpses in coffins.

Next to Owen is Noah, who is slumped over onto Alejandro’s shoulder. Huh. Well, as sweet as that is, it doesn’t make any sense, because if they’re both asleep, who snapped their fingers and woke Owen up?

“Owen?” someone whispers, and Owen turns to find Kitty waving at him.

“Kitty, hi,” he whispers. “What’s up? Did someone snap their fingers?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah, that was me, just figured something out. Sorry, did I wake you up?”

“Kinda, but it’s okay. What’d you figure out?”

“Okay, I might be way off base, but I’m usually good at spotting these things—I think Alejandro has a crush on Noah.”

“You saw that too?” Owen gasps. “How he got all smiley when Don said we were staying in the game?”

“Yes! It was so obvious. Like, don’t get me wrong, Emma and I were relieved, but he looked totally goofy about it. Like, there is something going on there.”

“Definitely. I’m glad I’m not the only one who sees it.” 

Kitty’s eyes sparkle. “Do you think Noah likes him back? Because I would be so down to set them up.”

“That’d be fun! I know Noah’s friendly with Alejandro now, but I’m not sure if he likes him like that… though he was totally checking him out during that gymnastics challenge.”

“I knew it!”

“You saw that too?” 

“Yes! I didn’t want to say anything and make it weird, but—”

“Oh, dude, this is awesome,” Owen whispers. “I’m gonna try and get a sense of whether Noah likes Alejandro back or not, because if he does—”

“We’re gonna matchmake like nobody has every matchmade before,” Kitty says.

They chat in hushed tones for another ten minutes, until the seemingly asleep Jen grabs one of Tom’s fezes and hurls it in their direction. It smacks Owen in the chest, despite Jen never opening her eyes. He and Kitty take that as their cue for Kitty to go back to sleep, and Owen to visit the bathroom before doing the same.

When he returns to his seat, Alejandro is squinting sleepily at him. “Owen?”

“Hi Al—ejandro. Alejandro. Didn’t mean to wake you up.”

“You didn’t, I… what are you doing up? I didn’t snap my fingers.”

“Sorry,” Kitty whispers from across the room.

“Ah, I see. Well, would you like me to put you back—”

Alejandro shifts on the bench, finally noticing that Noah is entirely pressed against him, head tucked into his shoulder. He blinks.

“Noah gets clingy in his sleep,” Owen explains. “The crew accidentally booked us a single bed room in Morocco ‘cause they thought we were dating, and I woke up with him holding onto me like a koala in a tree.”

“Funnily enough, I’ve actually experienced that myself before. Remember camping in the Amazon? I spent most of the night with him cuddled up to me, not that he ever realized.”

“He’d be totally embarrassed if you brought it up. It’d be really funny.”

“Owen, are you… implying that I should tease him?”

“Maybe a little. I’m just happy you guys are friends again!”

“He thinks we’re friends?”

“Well, yeah.”

“Thanks, Owen.”

Alejandro smiles, and yeah, Owen’s pretty dang sure he was never too far off with the whole flirting theory.

Owen doesn’t get woken up from his trance until they’ve just finished landing—he’s appreciative of Alejandro’s timing sparing him from the terror of touching down on the runway, but disappointed he missed whatever teasing occurred, as Noah is awake and bearing flushed cheeks. Once they reach the street, the Best Friends are the first team to procure a taxi. Owen wonders if it has something to do with Courtney repeatedly yelling “Tolong!” in addition to “Taxi!”

“Guys, over here!” Emma calls, and the Pros turns to see the Sisters gesturing them toward their own taxi. They’re offering to share? Awesome!

Kitty seems to think so too, as she beams at her sister even though they’re squished against one side of the cab. Owen’s still glad to see that whatever they were upset with each other for has been resolved. The Airport Alliance had definitely been tense during the Sisters’ fight.

“Hey, Noah,” Kitty says, “you still think none of the guys here are boyfriend material?”

So they’re getting right into this matchmaking thing. Owen grins. This should be fun.

Noah shoots Kitty a raised eyebrow. “What’s got you asking?”

“Answering a question with a question,” Emma mutters, probably to herself. “Solid technique.”

Before Kitty can respond, the taxi screeches to a halt at a Komodo dragon crossing, and the Airport Alliance is quickly distracted by the sight of a giant lizard. And then they’re distracted by the giant lizard ripping the bumper straight off the front of the taxi. They speed away, but when they reach the Don Box, they’re met with the sight of another Komodo dragon curled up around it.

“Uh… so who wants to be first?” Noah asks. Owen knows he’s not great at interpreting, but he’s pretty sure that’s a rhetorical question.

Another cab pulls up, and Alejandro and Courtney step out, Alejandro assessing the Don Box situation while Courtney says something to the driver in another language.

“We beat you here,” Emma says almost automatically, and then, “Wait, are you speaking Indonesian?”

Courtney steps out next to Alejandro. “It’s Malay, actually. The languages are remarkably similar.”

“Whoa, you can speak two languages?” Owen says. “That’s so cool!”

“I can speak three.”

“Spanish, Malay, and…?”

“…English?” Courtney responds incredulously.

Owen facepalms. “Right, duh.”

“Well, I’m impressed,” Kitty says. “I so don’t have a head for languages. But Emma can speak Latin!”

“True. Though I get more use reading it than speaking it, seeing as I’m going into law and it’s a dead language,” Emma says.

“That’s why you’re so good with legal maxims?” Courtney demands. “I’ve been sitting in class for months thinking you ate a damn dictionary!”

“…Why would I eat a dictionary?”

“Yeah, they’re not very tasty,” Owen says. He hasn’t actually eaten a dictionary, but his diet is expansive enough that people will tend to believe he’s consumed just about anything. Which he’s used to his advantage for several games of Two Truths and a Lie.

Noah chuckles to himself. “As fascinating as this is, we still haven’t figured out how to get a tip.”

“Aw, just honk, dude, and it'll scatter,” the recently arrived Brody suggests, and his plan actually works. The first four teams end up with Travel Tips and uneaten by Komodo dragons, but that latter point might not last for long, considering the nature of this challenge.

“How to Milk Your Dragon—whoa, we have to do what?”

“We should stick together for this one,” Kitty tells the Pros. “There’s safety in numbers, plus there’ll probably be enough spit for two teeny vials from just one of those lizards.”

“Good thinking,” Emma says.

And so, as more and more teams arrive, the Airport Alliance maneuvers through the village. Noah’s keen eyes manage to spot a group of Komodos feasting on the bones of… some poor creature (Owen can’t tell exactly what) and the four decide to lie in wait until the dragons are gone, and they can snag some spit.

“So Noah,” Kitty says quietly, “you never answered my question.”

“What question?”

“About whether you like any of the guys here,” Owen supplies eagerly. 

Oops, that might’ve been too eager, because now both Noah and Emma are giving him weird looks.

“Why, do you?” Noah asks.

“Uh, nope!”

“Good, because reality TV is a terrible place to start a relationship,” Emma says, and Noah snorts.

“Oh God, and you don’t even know about the Courtney love triangle.”

“Courtney love triangle?”

“Okay, so it started off with this guy named Duncan—total asshole, by the way, and he—”

“Hey, Noah,” Kitty says, “can you maybe… not?”

Owen, Noah, and Emma all shoot her bemused looks.

“It’s just… I was talking to Alejandro, like a week back, and he told me that Courtney is still, uh, touchy about all that stuff. I don’t know the whole story, but it seems like whatever happened, it messed with her pretty bad. So maybe we shouldn’t be talking about it behind her back.”

Emma blinks several times. “Kitty, I have never heard you turn down the chance to gossip. Never.”

“Alejandro said what happened made her act a lot like you. Or… like your worst self, I guess.”

“Huh. Okay. We don’t have to talk about it.”

“Thank you. Sorry to shut down your story, Noah.”

“Meh, it’s not a big deal,” Noah says. “Though this does seem to be taking pretty long. Are they ever going to leave?”

Owen glances to the Komodo dragons, who are still going to town on the bones. 

“It’s not looking like it,” Emma says.

“Why don’t you keep an eye on them, and Noah and I can scout around for any easier opportunities to swap—I mean, swipe spit,” Owen suggests.

Noah snorts at his mistake. “Yeah, let’s see if we can swipe spit, not swap it. These Komodos definitely aren’t boyfriend material.”

The Sisters giggle at that, and agree to watch the dragons while Owen and Noah creep further into the forest. When they pop out from behind a rock, Owen is met with the sight of a very flat, wrinkly lizard.

“Check it out, that Komodo exploded or something.”

“It’s just skin,” Noah tells him, and yeah, that checks out. “I guess Komodos molt like every other reptile.”

Owen recalls a vague memory of the reptilian monster suit he wore for their Yum Yum Happy Go Time Candy Fish Tail commercial back on World Tour, and gasps.

“Uh oh, I see wheels turning.”

“If I wear a Komodo skin, I can just crawl right up to one and swipe some spit!” he exclaims.

“You wanna make out with a Komodo dragon? Because if that’s the case, you had a freakishly preemptive Freudian slip earlier.” 

“No! I mean, I won't rule it out,” and Owen snickers to himself at the mental image of making out with a Komodo, “but that wasn't my plan.”

As Noah makes his way back to the Sisters to inform them of their new approach (and grab their vial), Owen manages to wriggle his way into the Komodo skin. It’s dry, and itchy, and he rips a few holes in it, but by the time Noah returns, he thinks he’s suitably disguised as a Komodo dragon.

“Here’s their vial,” Noah says, passing it to them. “Try not to get yourself killed.”

He darts on ahead to join the Sisters in their hiding spot, and Owen begins crawling toward the Komodos.

“Ah, oh, g'day mates. Mind if I join in, yeah?”

“Why would he fake an accent?” he hears Noah whisper harshly. Owen doesn’t know what to tell him—he just felt like being an Australian Komodo dragon. And the other Komodos don’t seem to mind when he begins gnawing on a bone. “Never mind, it's working, because of course it is.”

“This is so weird,” Emma says.

Out of the corner of his eye, Owen’s pretty sure Kitty takes, like, at least ten selfies when a Komodo starts affectionately licking Owen’s ear. And now that the dragons aren’t a threat, Owen is overcome by how cool it is that he gets to hang out with them. They’re basically giant lizards! This is awesome!

After Owen returns the favor by licking Chewy’s snout (he’s decided to name the dragon Chewy), he’s able to fill both vials with venom still on the bones. Emma’s quiet gagging turns into quiet cheering at that. The situation gets significantly more complicated when Owen tries to mosey away, and Chewy happily leaps on him, pinning him to the ground.

“Little help, mate?” Owen calls.

“He's your boyfriend, you dump him!” Noah calls back.

Kitty gasps. “Emma, let’s create a distraction!”

“I’m sorry, you want us to draw the attention of the giant, man eating reptiles?”

“Yeah!”

Sighing, Emma makes some shuffling noises that Owen takes to mean she’s standing up. “Fine. But only ‘cause you two saved our asses in Dubai.”

“Yoo-hoo!” Kitty shouts, jumping up and down.

“Hey, lizards!” Emma yells. “Eat mango!”

Something round and orange hits Owen’s leg. “Ow!”

“Sorry, I was aiming for the dragon!”

“You still got his attention,” Noah says nervously, and soon Chewy has hopped off of Owen and is running after Emma. Owen leaps to his feet, running over to his friends. He grabs Noah under one arm, Kitty under the other, and taking the hint, Emma hops onto his shoulders.

“Go, go, go!”

Owen sprints toward the local, tossing him two vials of Komodo venom (and dropping Noah in the process).

“Thanks,” Noah grumbles from the ground, taking the two tickets the local hands to him. Once they’ve determined Chewy is not longer in pursuit, the Sisters clamber off of Owen to read the Travel Tip.

“That’s a lot of carpets,” Owen says. “Like, a lot!”

“Let’s split up and search,” Noah suggests. “We’ll cover more ground that way.”

Kitty jogs toward a pile. “Good idea!”

“Found one!” someone calls, and Owen pauses in his search to watch Courtney hold up a carpet triumphantly.

“¡Ándale!” Alejandro cheers, rounding a mound of carpets and coming into Owen’s vision. He’s limping, and Owen frowns. Poor Al can’t catch a break from whatever’s going on with his legs, huh?

Having likely noticed this as well, Noah calls, “Dude, did a Komodo use your foot as a chew toy or something?”

“Actually, yes, but that hasn’t stopped us! I’ll see you at the Chill Zone, majo!”

Owen’s so busy wondering what majo means that he almost doesn’t notice the Ridonculous Race carpet in his hands until he goes to toss it in the discard pile.

“Hey, Noah, I got a carpet!”

“Alright! Let’s go!”

“Good luck,” Owen calls to the Sisters, and the Reality TV Pros take off in pursuit of the Chill Zone. They arrive just as Alejandro and Courtney are getting gestured to move out of the shot, and Don declares that the Pros have placed fourth.

“Oh, thank God,” Noah says. “France and Finland were bad enough, but last challenge was way too close for comfort. Fourth is good.”

“Fourth is awesome!” Owen cheers, hugging his friend. To make things even better, the Sisters soon sprint onto the scene with a carpet of their own. 

Alejandro sidles up to Noah. “Please tell me the story behind the Komodo skin, because I know it’s a good one.”

“Trust me, it is.”

As Noah launches into an explanation of Operation Make Out With A Komodo Dragon, Owen begins to pull off the Komodo skin that he’d just been reminded he’s still wearing. When he’s struggling to get it over his shoulders, Kitty comes over and rips it from the back.

“Thanks,” Owen says, and she nudges his side conspiratorially. 

“Look at them.”

Owen turns back to Noah, who’s animatedly recreating Owen’s Australian accent, and Alejandro, who’s bent over laughing into the back of his hand. They’re both beaming.

“Does he—I mean, do you think…?” 

Kitty gives Owen a look.

He grins back at her. “Yeah. Definitely.”

“Awesome,” she says. “We’re totally setting them up. ‘Cause, let’s face it, there’s no way I’m gonna be able to matchmake for Emma here.”

Turning to the sister in question, Owen finds her in a passionate debate with Courtney.

“—because Godot is a misogynistic piece of shit, Lana is so much better—”

“Lana’s whole existence is a retcon, and Godot only comes off as misogynistic because of faulty translating—”

Owen just laughs. “Yeah. That’s definitely not happening.”

Filming ends with the remaining seven teams bidding the Fashion Bloggers a heartfelt farewell, and a bus ride over to the hotel. The Surfer Dudes propose another group meal (something about celebrating dragon slaying?) and Owen immediately agrees. The Goths and the Ice Dancers decline the invitation—which Owen is kind of glad for, seeing as the Ice Dancers had boomeranged him and Noah back in the Arctic Circle, and they didn’t even seem a little apologetic—but the Sisters, Best Friends, and Police Cadets accompany the Surfers and Pros to dinner. They dine on beef rendang and manado soup, and at Brody’s suggestion, cow brain curry. Sanders and the Sisters look horrified at the notion, but Owen, Courtney, MacArthur, and the Surfers all try a few chunks. Shockingly, it’s one of the creamiest things Owen’s ever eaten.

He kind of regrets mentioning that to the table, because Alejandro obviously fights back a gag, stands up, and says, “If you all will excuse me, I’m quite tired. I think I’ll turn in early.”

“Me too,” Noah says, pushing his chair back

Owen goes to protest—they’ve still got stewed jackfruit coming for dessert, which Courtney’s had before and swears by its sweetness—but the words die on his lips as he sees how Alejandro’s eyes light up.

“G’night guys,” is all he says, and after a few more goodbyes, Noah and Alejandro begins walking down the street together.

Kitty leans over and high-fives Owen.

“What was that about?” Emma asks.

“Oh, nothing,” Kitty says, and Owen laughs.

Despite shooting them weird looks, Emma just shrugs and turns back to Courtney, resuming whatever argument they’d been having earlier. “Look, I’m not denying that there’s more story with Godot, but there’s clear subtext of a relationship between Mia and Lana.”

“And there’s way more for Mia and Godot! I’m starting to think you just like Lana because her younger sister shares the same name as you.”

“It’s not the same name! Ema with one m is totally different than Emma with two!”

Kitty shakes her head and turns to Owen. “Lawyers.”

“Lawyers,” Owen agrees, and laughs again.

Chapter Text

“So, you sure you don’t want to give those brains a second chance?”

It’s just another one of Noah’s throwaway comments, to mess with Alejandro and his sensitive stomach, but the man must’ve been expecting it. Because his response is a quick and smooth, “The only brains I’m interested in are yours.”

“What are you, a zombie?” Noah shoots back, hoping that retort hides the way his stomach flips. Best not to show any sign of weakness against an opponent you’re bantering with, right?

Alejandro merely grins. “Of course not. I’m too handsome to be a zombie.”

“Yeah, yeah. Uh, do you know the way back to the hotel? Because I’m just following you at this point.”

“…I was following you.”

Noah stops dead in his tracks. “Well, shit.”

He’s almost too busy turning every which way, trying to gain back some sense of direction, to register Alejandro’s laughter.

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding! We’re only a few blocks away.”

“You’re the worst.”

“I can’t believe you actually fell for that, cerebrito.”

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up,” Noah grumbles, resuming his pace beside Alejandro. “What does that mean, anyway? Little brain?”

“That’s actually pretty close. You didn’t ask Courtney, did you?”

“Nah. I figured since Spanish is a Romance language, it probably had something to do with cerebrum—Latin for ‘the brain’.”

“Ah, so you asked Emma.”

“…Maybe.”

“It means brainiac. Or smart cookie. I suppose now that you know, I’ll have to throw some new names in the mix. How do you feel about chispudo? It’s Guatemalan.”

“What does it translate to?”

“Now, where would be the fun in telling you that?” Alejandro says with a wink. Having reached the hotel, he holds the door open for Noah, and the two make their way into the lobby. “As much as I’ve enjoyed your company, and the chance to avoid cow brains, I wasn’t lying about being tired.”

“That challenge was pretty intense.”

“I still can’t believe Owen made out with a Komodo dragon.”

“It’s Owen.”

“Fair point. His enthusiasm knows no bounds. Nor does his lack of self preservation.”

“Would you look at that—you managed to make an observation about Owen that wasn’t negative.”

“I can’t tell if he’s also mellowed out, or if I just have a higher tolerance for irritating people than I used to.”

“Definitely the second one. Spending all that time with Courtney’s gotta be, like, exposure therapy or something.”

“Hey, I didn’t say anything unkind about Owen, and I’ll expect you do the same for my best friend as well,” Alejandro warns.

“Fair enough. But you weren’t stuck on the Aftermath with her and Captain Hollywood.”

“…Who is Captain Hollywood? Geoff made a similar remark—and also said something about his villain arc? Frankly, I’m quite lost.”

“Trust me, it’s not worth the time it would take to unpack all that.”

“Fair enough.” 

As Alejandro tucks a stray piece of hair behind his ear, Noah vaguely notes that it’s been growing, the front pieces getting long enough to brush against Alejandro’s chin. It’s a good look.

Not that Alejandro is capable of looking anything other than gorgeous. Noah has to admit that—it’s just objective fact, is all.

They ride up the elevator together. The Pros’ room is a few floors above the Best Friends, so when Alejandro steps out onto the third floor, he calls softly, “Goodnight, Noah.”

“Goodnight,” and in a fit of inspiration, Noah finishes, “azhagan.”

“What does that mean?”

“Where would be the fun in telling you that?” Noah asks, as the elevator doors slide closed.

Not quickly enough, however, for him to miss the way Alejandro’s face lights up.

The next flight is eighteen hours. Ugh. Nothing Noah hadn’t experienced on the Jumbo Jet, but really, an eighteen hour flight is too long for even the most experienced travelers. He hopes the crew is having fun hopping from location to location, because whatever they’re getting paid to do this show surely isn’t enough.

He sleeps for the first ten hours, and reads for another three, until Owen wakes up. Their knockout concoction is made to last for a while, but not eighteen hours. If it was, Noah’s pretty sure that would be akin to a medically induced coma. While Owen chats with Kitty and Geoff, Noah shows Emma a few episodes of Scare Tractor that he and Owen were on. That quickly devolves into the verbal equivalent of a lion tearing into a gazelle, as Emma ruthlessly mocks the show. Noah can only laugh—and attempt to defend himself when she starts picking apart his strategies. He thinks he does a decent job, but she still wins the argument. Fucking lawyers.

Passing through the aisle, Alejandro manages to catch Noah in between episodes and ask, “Seriously, though, what does it mean?”

“Good morning to you too,” Noah says drily. 

“If we’re still on Indonesian time, then it’s getting into the evening,” Emma points out.

“Good evening, then,” Alejandro says. “What does it mean? Az… azhagan? Is that what you said?”

“Yep.” Noah’s actually impressed he remembers the correct pronunciation of the word, though he supposes that shouldn’t surprise him. Diplomat father and all. But also, it’s Alejandro. “And if you recall, I did say there wouldn’t be any fun in telling you.”

“Can I at least get a language?”

“Nope.”

Alejandro’s eyes narrow, but playfully. “Hmm. Fine. I will figure it out, though.”

“Best of luck with that,” Noah says, and Alejandro gives him a little wave as he retreats back to his seat.

“What was that all about?” Emma asks.

“Payback for the cerebrito thing. You wouldn’t happen to know what chispudo means, would you?”

“No. You guys are weird.”

“It’s reality television. Everyone here is weird—including you.”

“I am not.”

“Are too.”

“Am not!”

“That’s the best argument your lawyer brain can come up with?” Noah challenges.

He kind of regrets it when Emma’s eyes light up and she opens her mouth, no doubt to land some devastating verbal blow, but she’s cut off by a burst of giggles in the seats across the aisle.

“No way,” Kitty is saying.

“I’m not kidding!” Owen cries. “Porpoises!”

The two dissolve into another fit of giggling.

Noah looks at Emma. 

Emma looks at Noah.

“They’re weird.”

“No objections here.”

As it worked well last time—disregarding the Komodo dragons—the Airport Alliance shares another taxi to the Don Box. That is, however, the end of their time together for this challenge, as Emma reads the Travel Tip aloud and Noah decides, “Magic,” as Kitty proclaims, “Buggies!”

“Oh boy,” Owen says. “I gotta go with Noah here—a magic show sounds fun!”

“I guess we’ll split up today, then,” Kitty says.

Emma frowns. “I don’t know…”

“We can’t exactly help each other with this one,” Noah points out, and Kitty throws an arm around Emma.

“C’mon, you know I’m good at gaming, I can rock this buggy thing!”

“Yeah, okay. Let’s go!”

“Good luck with the challenge!” Owen calls, as he and Noah jog over to the stage. They receive further instructions from the Vegas magician of how the trick will work, and then get a demonstration from the Ice Dancers on how it will not work. The Reality TV Pros go backstage to change, Owen more than happy to give the dress a try, but after a very loud riiiiiip from the dressing room, the costume crew has to intervene. Noah is just grateful he doesn’t have to don anything more than a few simple accessories. Though the top hat definitely makes his head look big.

Well, bigger than usual.

“Huh. Didn’t expect you guys to pick the magic show,” Courtney says, and Noah turns to find her in a similar getup to him.

“Didn’t expect you to be the magician,” Noah responds, and when Courtney’s eyes narrow, he adds, “Not because you’re a girl. Because you wear a lot of purple.”

“It’s a good color.”

“I’m still partial to red, but you have to admit, I do look stunning,” someone says. That someone being Alejandro, who’s emerging from the dressing room in a shimmery purple dress. A dress that hugs his brilliant physique, exposing much of his toned chest and legs. 

And Noah’s seen Alejandro on display before, he’s seen him in nothing but a Speedo, for God’s sake, and he was still able to keep himself composed because he may be very, very queer, but he can still function in the presence of a devastatingly attractive man. But this is… this is different. There’s a slit in the dress, and Alejandro’s upper thigh peeks out from beneath it, and Noah thinks he’s going to combust on the spot.

“That was fast,” Courtney says, giving Alejandro’s legs a significant look. 

“It’s quick drying,” Alejandro responds, and if Noah’s brain had stopped working, he might’ve wondered about that odd exchange. But he continues to short circuit as Alejandro twirls and asks, “What do you think, chispudo?”

Noah opens his mouth to say something, but what comes out is pretty much the vocal equivalent of a keyboard smash.

“I think he likes it,” Owen says cheekily. He’s emerged from his own dressing room, back in his regular clothes, but the ripped dress has been impressively fashioned into an improvised cape. 

Courtney snorts, and Noah’s able to recover enough of his dignity to mutter, “Shut up,” and then, “I’m surprised you’re the assistant, azhagan, seeing as Courtney could probably beat up a lion if it came down to that.”

“I definitely could.”

“Yes, but I have a soothing effect on animals,” Alejandro says. His eyes light up. “Plus, I love big cats. Especially lions.”

“Do not pet the lion,” Courtney warns.

“I’m going to pet the lion.”

“Alejandro—no.”

“Just a little pet.”

“You’re going to get yourself killed.”

“My lion taming dream is one I’m willing to die for,” Alejandro says, and Noah snaps his fingers.

“Right, that’s what you sang about before we almost died in Japan.”

“You remember that?”

“I remember being impressed that Owen came up with a good rhyme for ‘tamer’ so quickly.”

“I was pretty proud of that one,” Owen admits.

“What was your ambition, back then?” Alejandro asks Noah, who doesn’t have much of an answer. 

Thankfully, Courtney saves him from having to give one as she pulls Alejandro onstage, muttering something about how they need to get going with the challenge now that the Goths have failed their first try. The crew instructs Noah and Owen to watch from the audience, alongside the Ice Dancers and the Goths, the latter of which Josee looks like she’s trying to light on fire with her eyes. 

“Dude,” Owen says.

Noah groans. “We’ve been over this. Yes, the guy is objectively hot.”

“Well, duh. But you kinda lost the ability to talk for a second.”

“The dress was a surprise! I was blindsided!”

“But you sure weren’t blind.”

“Oh, shut up.”

Owen just giggles, and Noah turns away to watch the Best Friends perform the magic show. Courtney pulls the lever with the confidence of a performer, but when the curtain rises, the lion is still in the enclosure with Alejandro. The divider, however, is not.

Watching with bated breath, Noah tries to ignore the way his heart is pounding. He’s not that worried about Alejandro. He’ll be fine. Heck, the guy doesn’t even seem concerned by the fact that he’s stuck in a cage with a lion—he looks delighted.

“Hola, michi,” Alejandro coos, holding out a hand. “Can I give you a pet?”

Perhaps thrown off by his confidence, the lion tentatively sniffs Alejandro’s hand.

“That’s great, you didn’t get mauled, now get out of there,” Noah hears Courtney mutter from behind gritted teeth.

Alejandro, however, chooses to be a contrarian, and reaches out to pet the lion.

“What the hell is he doing?” Josee asks. Jacques’ knees knock together.

The lion actually leans into Alejandro’s touch as he scratches behind its ears. “Eres un buen gatito, un muy buen gatito.”

“He’s baby talking the lion,” Owen says, dumbfounded. But he’s right. The lion begins to rub up against Alejandro’s shoulder, and the man looks like he’s about to die of happiness. Even from the audience, Noah can see the sparkle in his eyes. This isn’t quite the same Alejandro he’d known two years ago—or, it is, but the mask has fully dropped in this moment. This is genuinely Alejandro.

And Noah thinks he’s going to combust again.

He’s in a daze, as the judge declares Alejandro’s unexpected lion taming act to pass the challenge, and the Ice Dancers screech in annoyance. It’s not until he and Owen are taking their turn onstage that Noah manages to shake himself out of his thoughts and back down to Earth. Mostly because he really doesn’t want his best friend to get eaten by a lion. 

It’s his seventh grade magician phase (embarrassing, but shockingly useful today) that allows Noah to pay attention to the mechanics of the lever as he carefully pulls it. After he feels a slight shimmy, and hears a soft, but satisfying click, he lets go of the handle and gestures to the cage. Inside is Owen, sans divider, and thankfully, sans lion.

The judge gives a thumbs up.

“Alright!” Owen cheers. After he extracts himself from the enclosure, he and Noah quickly tear off their accessories and begin racing to the Chill Zone. It’s an obnoxiously long run, and there doesn’t seem to be any other teams in sight, so Noah slows his sprint to a jog. Owen follows suit. And then they both immediately regret it, as the Goths suddenly overtake them.

“Where did they come from?” Noah demands.

“I have no idea,” Owen says, as the Goths place second.

“Reality TV Pros, you’re in third!”

Owen claps Noah on the back. “Hey, it’s a step up from last challenge!”

“I’m just glad you’re not lion food,” Noah says. He turns toward the interview trailer, only to spot Alejandro and Courtney emerging, still in their magician costumes. “What’s with the outfits?”

“Someone might’ve been so eager to get to the Chill Zone that she completely ignored the crew’s instructions to get changed and immediately dragged me here,” Alejandro says cheekily.

Courtney rolls her eyes. “You tried to domesticate a lion. Don’t make out like I’m the crazy one here.”

“Hey, I got us into first place, didn’t I?”

“I can’t believe you sweet talked a lion,” Noah says.

“Oh, I can sweet talk anything.”

“Even an eel?”

Alejandro pouts, and it’s so excruciatingly adorable, that Noah has to look away. So he looks down. Unfortunately, looking down means looking at Alejandro’s incredible legs, which—while still being incredible—are sweaty and dusty from the desert. They’re also… strangely textured? Almost patchy?

They’re burn scars, Noah realizes. He’s hiding burn scars.

That would explain a lot, actually—the comments Alejandro and Courtney would make to one another about his numb legs, the nerve damage Emma mentioned as the reason Alejandro walked on his hands, the frequent limping and slower running pace. And based on the way Alejandro uncharacteristically faltered in Hawai’i, Noah’s got a good guess as to what exactly caused this injury in the first place.

Noah looks up, to be met with an innocently bemused expression on Alejandro’s face. His green eyes are wide, his hair falling into his face, and Noah is just—hit. Hit with the fact that he cares about Alejandro. That he cares about whether Alejandro is hurting or not. He cares about bringing the passionate dork underneath the facade to the surface, because he wants to see more of the real Alejandro, wants to see him laugh and try to pet lions and trade nicknames with him, because Noah—

“Oththa!”

“That’s a new one,” Alejandro says, oblivious to the fact that Noah hasn’t called him a new Tamil nickname and has, in fact, just yelled “Fuck!” in the middle of their conversation. “Will you tell me what it means, this time?”

Incapable of functioning, Noah says nothing. 

Owen, godsend that he is, grabs his arm and says, “I think it means someone is dealing with some heat exhaustion. C’mon, buddy, let’s get you some water—I keep telling you, wearing three layers is a bad idea…”

Letting Owen steer him away from the Best Friends and toward a table laden with water bottles, Noah looks at his teammate despairingly.

“Uh, Owen…?”

“I know it’s not actually heat exhaustion.”

“Yeah, but I also… I think I…”

Owen grins at him, and that’s when Noah is certain he already knows.

“…You figured it out already, haven’t you?”

“I think before you did,” Owen says, delighted. 

Well. Noah supposes he should’ve realized this earlier—

Azhagan.

—seeing as he’s been calling Alejandro handsome all day.

Chapter Text

Kitty likes to think she’s a pretty positive person, and can generally make the best of a bad situation.

That being said, an eighteen hour ride in a bumpy bus full of chickens is not her idea of a good time. The birds are cute for the first hour, when she’s petting them and taking pictures, but the novelty quickly wears off, and then they’re just loud and smelly. Which is also an apt description of the Surfer Dudes’ burrito binge. Emma looks like she wants to light them on fire with her eyes. Owen looks like he wants to join in, which Noah has to discourage every ten minutes, until he finally gets Alejandro to hypnotize Owen despite the lack of air travel. 

Owen agrees to be hypnotized, but says, “Wait, I want to talk to Kitty first.”

“What’s up?” Kitty asks, after Owen leads her to an empty row of seats.

“You know how Alejandro totally has a thing for Noah?”

“Yeah?”

“Noah likes Alejandro. Like, like-likes Alejandro.”

Kitty gasps. “Are you, like, serious?”

“Uh huh!”

“Dude, we are so setting them up.”

“Alright,” Owen giggles, fist bumping Kitty. “Let me know if anything happens between them while I’m unconscious.”

“Definitely. Though, I gotta admit, this is so not the place for romance.”

The ride on the chicken bus only serves to prove her right, as Noah spends the next few hours chatting with Emma. And then napping with Emma. Her head is on his shoulder, and Kitty hopes she doesn’t drool too much onto his sweater vest. For both of their sakes.

Alejandro, for his part, spends the drive looking out the window, a contemplative expression painted across his handsome face. Maybe he’s coming up with strategies for the game, or pondering other, deeper thoughts. Or maybe he’s just bored and daydreaming. Kitty can’t tell.

She does, however, spot Courtney glaring at the back of Emma’s head. Huh. Kitty had thought their weird little dynamic had recently improved, going from strictly competitive trash talking to friendly arguments about that video game they’re both into—but maybe something’s changed.

Only way to know for sure is by asking, right?

“Courtney,” Kitty calls (quietly, because half the bus is asleep) and pats the seat next to her. “You wanna sit here? There’s no chicken poop.”

“What a luxury,” Courtney grumbles, but joins her anyway.

“Is everything okay?”

“What?”

“Is everything okay?”

“Uh, yes? Why are you asking?”

“You were kinda glaring at Emma.”

“I was not.”

Kitty pulls up a picture of exactly that on her phone. “Uh, yeah, you were.”

“I didn’t consent to that being taken,” Courtney complains.

“Didn’t you sign a contract to be on the show?”

“Yes, agreeing to be filmed by the show.”

“This isn’t my actual phone, though. The crew people gave it to me. So doesn’t that make it, like, an extension of the show? Which you agreed to be filmed by?”

Courtney cocks her head to the side. “Have you ever considered going into law?”

“Oh, no, absolutely not. Having to argue about crime for a job sounds awful. But I have picked up some skills from Emma.”

“I can see that.”

“You never answered my question,” Kitty reminds her. “Is everything okay? Why were you glaring?”

“Those are two questions.”

“And here’s a third: why are you deflecting?”

“Stop picking things up from Emma,” Courtney grumbles.

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” Kitty says. “But if you want to talk to someone about whatever’s going on…”

“It’s stupid.”

“So what? I’m probably stupid, according to a lot of people.”

“You’re not stupid. Deludedly cheerful and short-sighted, perhaps—”

“Gee, thanks.”

“You just called yourself stupid. Isn’t what I said an upgrade?”

“I didn’t call myself stupid, I said other people probably do. So you saying that doesn’t feel great.”

“Oh,” Courtney says. 

Kitty gives her an expectant look.

“…I’m sorry?”

“You’re not real good with the apologies, are you?”

“I have a hard time caring about other people.”

“Wow. Harsh.”

“I wasn’t always like this, you know. There’s a reason I told you to get off reality television before it warps you irreparably.”

“I think I’ll be okay.”

“Keep telling yourself that.”

“Speaking of telling, are you gonna tell me what’s up, or…?”

“Fine. Fine. It really shouldn’t matter to me, but,” Courtney gestures to Emma and Noah, “that’s a bad idea.”

“I know, right?” Kitty says. “Emma is a major sleep drooler. Noah’ll be lucky to escape dry.”

“…What? No. I meant them getting together. Terrible, terrible idea. Nobody should ever date on camera.”

Kitty’s not quite sure where to start on that. Simple is probably the best first step. 

“Well, they’re not dating.”

“No, but they will be soon,” Courtney says grimly. “I can recognize the signs, and I’d much rather Emma lose to me because I bested her in a challenge rather than because she got caught in relationship drama that ended with tears and betrayal and bird poop.”

“I think it’s a little too late for the bird poop.” 

“It always is.”

“Also, Emma and Noah are just friends, and they’re gonna stay that way.”

“How would you know?”

“Because Noah is crushing on—” Kitty claps a hand over her mouth. Whoa, she probably shouldn’t be sharing that with Courtney! Especially considering she’s so anti-reality TV romance, and Noah has feelings for her best friend. Who has feelings for him back.

Courtney raises an eyebrow. “Noah likes someone who isn’t Emma?”

“Yeah, but I’m not gonna say who! And you never heard it from me in the first place, okay?”

“Sure. It’s probably Owen, not that I care about their love life—I just don’t want Emma’s messing up our rivalry.”

“I’ve definitely said this before, but you two have a really weird dynamic,” Kitty says. “You don’t need to worry about Emma’s love life—partially because it’s actually none of your business, and partially because it’s been nonexistent for three years. The reasons why are definitely none of your business, and if you say anything mean to her about it, I will not hesitate to destroy you.”

“Okay, not expecting that intensity, but I can appreciate it.”

“Thank you. I try.”

“And I’m not going to make fun of her for not dating. I don’t date either, and I don’t ever plan to.”

“Yeah, I think I’ve figured that out by—wait, like forever forever? You can do that?”

“I certainly can, not that Alejandro thinks it’s a good idea,” Courtney says. “But then again, he hasn’t had a single solid relationship in the entire time we’ve been friends.”

Deciding to test the waters, Kitty asks, “But would you be happy for him if he did end up in one?”

“Why would he want a relationship? We’re enough for each other.”

“Are you sure you don’t have a thing for him?”

“I’m a lesbian, remember?”

Okay, so she’s not obliviously pining. Just… codependent. Yikes.

Then again, maybe Courtney treats everyone she cares about with that level of intensity. She certainly seems… possessive about Emma. As her rival, of course.

Speaking of Emma, Courtney has returned to glaring at the back of her head.

“What’s the issue now?”

“Her hair is unnaturally shiny,” Courtney grumbles. “What the hell does she do to it?”

Kitty snorts. “Literally nothing besides washing and brushing it. Emma’s got great hair, which is so unfair, because I have to do so much to mine to get it to look half as good! I guess it kinda works out, because she’s pretty low maintenance while I’m not, but still. Not fair. I don’t know why people think I’m the pretty sister when she’s got that hair and a better figure.”

“Wait, who thinks you’re the pretty sister?”

“Literally everyone?”

“I figured it was obviously Emma.”

“Not gonna lie, that hurts my feelings a little bit, but I’ll let it slide ‘cause you’re being nice to Emma.”

“I’m not being nice, just… pointing it out.”

“Sure, whatever. How come you think she’s the pretty one?”

“I always thought she had a better nose,” Courtney shrugs.

“What’s wrong with my nose?”

“Nothing. I just like Emma’s more.”

“Huh,” Kitty says. In one quick movement, she gathers Courtney in for a quick selfie, which she then surveys. “Oh, good, I still think I’m cute as fuck! No lasting insecurities for me.”

“…Good?”

“So tell me, what is law school really like?” Kitty says. “‘Cause Emma makes it sound all boring and serious, but she can make anything sound boring and serious. Do you ever have mock trials where you get to recreate murders?”

“First of all, we’re in a pre-law program, not law school, secondly, we haven’t recreated any murders for class, but there was this one group project that involved a gallon of fake blood…”

Conversing with Courtney is the most interesting thing that happens to Kitty on the chicken bus. That, and falling asleep and dreaming of drowning in the ocean, with burritos for fish. When she wakes up, she can still smell the beans, and discovers that Geoff and Brody are downing more gas station burritos for breakfast.

“You’re probably smart to make sure Owen didn’t eat any of those,” she tells Noah.

“I don’t have to be smart to prevent that, I have to have two braincells I can rub together. Which Geoff and Brody appear to be lacking.”

Emma and Alejandro both laugh at that, while Kitty frowns. It’s not that Noah’s wrong, it’s just that Geoff and Brody are nice guys, even when they’re making dumb decisions. Decisions they’re definitely regretting as they sprint off the bus and into the bushes.

Ignoring whatever’s happening back there, the rest of the teams—the Sisters included—make a run for the Don Box.

“Are you cool with me eating the pepper?” Kitty asks Emma upon grabbing their Travel Tip. “I love spicy food, and you know I hate swimming.”

Emma opens her mouth like she wants to protest, and Kitty’s heart sinks—sure, things have been better between her and Emma, so it’s not like she’d expect her sister to shove her into a deep body of  water again. But still, Kitty will be disappointed with her if Emma attempts to make Kitty face her fear.

But Emma pauses for a moment, and swallows. 

“I’ll jump,” she says, jaw clenched. “But you have to eat the hottest pepper. No chickening out.”

“Don’t mention chickens!” MacArthur yells. “One took a shit on my boot!”

Groaning, Geoff flops over the Don Box. “Don’t mention shit.”

“I’ll eat the hottest pepper,” Kitty promises, and trots over to the pepper station while Emma begins her climb to the lowest ledge. Courtney and Sanders are already there, while Owen and Josee make their way up to the middle ledge. 

“I gotta say, I didn’t expect you to do the eating,” Noah is saying to Alejandro, a medium pepper in his hand. Kitty looks over the hot ones, searching for the smallest. Smallest probably means it contains less spice, right?

“Hey, I may not be able to stomach stomachs, but I love spicy food,” Alejandro says. Noah gives an appreciative hum at the wordplay.

Kitty plucks out a minuscule ruby red pepper. “Same. Also, Noah, how come you’re eating instead of Owen?”

“I was also wondering about that.”

“Owen can eat most things, but he doesn’t handle spice very well. And I was raised on Indian food.”

“I love Indian food,” Kitty sighs. “The really good places back home are too expensive, though.”

“Where do you live, back home?”

“Near Blossom Park, in Ottawa. Why?”

“Because I’m in Ottawa too, and you’d love my mom’s cooking. Better than you’ll find in any restaurant.”

“Are you inviting me and Emma over for dinner after the race? Because we will take you up on that.”

“I have a feeling you’d get along with my sisters,” Noah says, and Kitty spots a half-fond, half disappointed look on Alejandro’s face. 

“Can we drag Alejandro and Courtney along too?” she asks, noting the way Alejandro perks up at the suggestion. “I think Courtney has a biological urge to argue with Emma as much as humanly possible.”

“Oh, she definitely does,” Alejandro says.

Noah snorts. “As long as Courtney doesn’t get into a fight with my sisters, sure. Because that would not be pretty. Wait, Alejandro, are you and Courtney in Ottawa too?”

“We do go to the same university as Emma,” Alejandro reminds him. “A coincidence I still find a bit amusing.”

“Right, duh. Forgot about that.”

“And if you’re seriously offering, then yes, I would love to get a chance to try your mother’s cooking. I spent a weekend in Delhi when my father was there on business, and the food was divine.”

“Well, my mom’s from Chittoor, so I can’t promise it’ll be similar. But I can promise it’ll be good.”

“I look forward to it, then,” Alejandro says, and Kitty shoves the pepper in her mouth to repress her giggle. They are so flirting. It’s kind of adorable to watch, and kind of hilarious, because she’s not entirely sure Noah knows he’s flirting.

Kitty then realizes she has a very, very spicy pepper in her mouth. It’s already burning her tongue, and that’s just the outside—no way is she gonna survive chewing this thing up. But then again, she picked a particularly small one. So Kitty swallows it whole.

Her throat burns, and she bends over in a fit of coughing, but she gets the pepper down! Though, seriously, ugh.

“I did it,” she manages to wheeze, grabbing a red flag and running to the shore with it. “Emma, you can jump!”

Emma does not jump.

“Ah crud, that’s hot,” Noah says, attempting to blow on his tongue as he waves a green flag. Owen plummets to the water with zero hesitation.

“Emma’s not jumping,” Kitty complains. “Emma! I did it! Get the milk!”

From the ledge, Emma nods. But she still doesn’t jump.

“She’s probably just gathering her courage,” Noah says.

“Why? She’s not the one with a fear of water.”

“No, but she is the one with the fear of heights. Fear of falling. Same thing.”

“What are you talking about?” Kitty asks. “Emma’s never been scared of heights.”

Noah raises an eyebrow. “Uh, she’s definitely had issues with them since Dubai. She was terrified going over the waterfall in Africa, didn’t you know?”

“No,” Kitty admits, but Emma had seemed a bit shaken for the rest of that challenge. And then again, when they’d fallen down the trap door in Australia. “Wait. Crap. She is afraid of heights.”

“Nearly falling to your death will do that to you, I suppose.”

“But she didn’t say anything when I asked her to jump!”

“My oldest sister once got into a car crash, attacked by her stalker ex, and nearly choked to death on a waffle, all in the same day, and I didn’t find out about it until four years later,” Noah says. “Older sisters are, like, required by design to repress shit to an insane degree.”

Kitty thinks of Jake. “Tell me about it. I just… I thought we got our issues out in the open.”

“In one go? It’s never that easy.”

“¡Carajo!” someone yells, and Kitty turns to see Alejandro jogging toward the shore, flag in tow. “That pepper was hot! Courtney, you can jump!”

“You’ve got this, Emma!” Kitty calls. Maybe a switch from demanding to encouraging will help her sister.

It seems to work at first, as Emma bends her knees, but she freezes again.

Then, something strange happens. She’s far away enough that Kitty can’t see their exact facial expressions, nor hear the conversation, but Courtney turns to Emma and says something. Emma say something back, Courtney pauses, then nods, and… takes Emma’s hand?

And they jump together.

“Ohhh-kay, did not see that coming.”

“Yeah, me neither,” Owen says. Having returned to dry land, he’s wringing out the front of his shirt while Noah gulps down milk. And then reads the Travel Tip. 

And then snorts. “Alejandro, you were either born to crush this next challenge, or born to lose it tragically.”

“That’s not at all concerning,” Alejandro gasps, fanning his tongue. Fortunately for both him and Kitty’s burning throat, Emma and Courtney soon emerge from the water with their. Emma rips the Travel Tip off of the Sisters’ and reads it while Kitty chugs milk gracelessly. 

“We have to ride burros to a temple,” Emma announces. Having drained her canteen, Kitty surveys her sister, but apart from her slightly heavier breathing, Emma seems to have recovered from her fear of falling. Then again, Kitty doesn’t want to completely dismiss the possibility that she’s hiding any lingering anxiety. She seems to be good at that.

“It’s be a shame if your burro died,” Noah says to Alejandro, who rolls his eyes.

“Because I’d be a Burromuerto on a burro muerto?”

“Low hanging fruit, but I couldn’t resist.”

“Yeah, yeah, Alejandro has a ridiculous last name,” Courtney says, grabbing her teammate’s arm. “Are we gonna keep doing this challenge, or what?”

“Right behind you, and my last name is not ridiculous, it’s—”

Watching them hustle over to the burros, Kitty turns to Emma. “We should probably get going too.”

“Right, let’s go.”

“Hey, Emma,” Kitty starts, because she wants to talk to her sister about the heights thing, but she’s already walking away.

The Sisters end up placing at a respectable fourth, the Best Friends having arrived in third and the Reality TV Pros coming in at fifth. Courtney doesn’t even gloat that much—just makes a lighthearted jab about beating out the Sisters for the top three—and both she and Emma get distracted as Alejandro begins gushing about some nearby archeological site. Noah watches him with a look that’s so smitten, Kitty has to sidle up to him and say, “So.”

“So?”

“So… how about you and Alejandro?”

That’s finally enough to get Noah to tear his eyes away from the man in question. “How about us?”

“Dude,” Kitty says in her we both know what’s going on here voice, “you clearly like the guy. A lot.”

“We’re friendly now.”

“Dude.”

“Fine, we’re friends.”

“Noah. I have eyes, you know!”

“I’m not that obvious,” Noah hisses.

“Yes, yes you are.”

“Ugh. Is this part of whatever harebrained scheme you and Owen are cooking up?”

“We don’t have a scheme,” Kitty says, ignoring the implicit not yet, “and we wouldn’t have to scheme if you, I dunno, asked the guy out.”

“I told you, Owen and I are just friends.”

“You know I’m talking about Alejandro, dumbass.”

“Dead ass,” Noah corrects. “Because. You know. Dead donkeys.”

Kitty facepalms. “Bad. That was terrible.”

“It’s hard to turn ‘Burromuerto’ into a good joke.”

“That name is so silly.”

“It’s kind of endearing how much pride he takes in it.”

“Aww, you think Alejandro’s endearing!” Kitty says. “You want him to be your dear!”

“He’d be a burro, actually.”

“Enough with the donkey jokes! Noah, I’m serious—you should ask him out.”

“I’d much rather put the No in Noah and not.”

“Making puns on your own name is even worse.”

Noah gives her a searching look. “Wait, do people make cat jokes because your name is—”

“It’s not even short for Katherine!” Kitty complains. “I’d make a super cute Katie, but nooo, I got meowed at all throughout elementary school!”

“Still sounds better than the prison jokes one of my sisters had to put up with.”

“Prison jokes? What the heck is your sister—ugh, you’re distracting me!”

“And it was working so well.”

“Not anymore, mister. Ask. Him. Out.”

“Noah says: uh, no.”

“Dude.”

“Meow.”

“You’re the worst,” Kitty informs him. “But I’ll still be your wingman. Wingwoman. Wingding. Chicken wing. Gender is a construct, and now I’m distracting myself. My point is, Alejandro is this smart, charming, insanely good looking guy that you clearly like. And he clearly likes you. So—”

“Yeah, that’s where you’re wrong. Obviously.”

“What? No, he—”

“It’s a moot point,” Noah says. “Even if he did like me like that, pursuing any kind of romance on reality TV is a terrible idea. I’ve spent the last three years watching other people make those mistakes. Heck, I’m the only person here who was also on Total Drama that didn’t have some kind of fucked up relationship. Courtney and Geoff both got cheated on, Alejandro got duped out of a million dollars, and Owen’s been maimed more times than I can count. I’m not risking any of that, or worse. Sorry if that’s disappointing.”

“I just… I hate to see people denying themselves happiness.”

“I’m not denying myself happiness. I’m denying myself future hurt.” 

Owen calls out, and Noah pats Kitty’s shoulder before trotting off toward his teammate.

Sighing, Kitty watches him go.

She doesn’t like to think that the people around her are pretty negative, and can easily make the worst of a good situation. 

But it feels that way an awful lot.

To make a melancholic Kitty worse, the burrito-betrayed Surfer Dudes end up losing their footrace (well, burro race) against the Goths and arrive in last place. Though definitely bummed out, Geoff and Brody give everyone a hug, handshake, fist bump, or in Don’s case, all three, before they depart. Owen is pouting, and Kitty is right there with him. Even their normally cool host is fighting to keep a frown from his face as he closes out the episode.

As they board the (thankfully chicken-free) bus on their way to the hotel, Emma’s shoulders loosen slightly. Her breathing is normal again, Kitty notices. She wants to demand why Emma didn’t tell her about this new fear of heights, but… the last time Emma told her something significant like this, Kitty had to drag the truth out of her. And Emma promised she would stop holding it in, next time, but she still is. 

Maybe not intentionally, Kitty thinks. Maybe she just needs a little push.

So when they’re finally alone in their hotel room, Kitty says, “Thanks again for making sure I didn’t have to do the diving part of the challenge. Swimming really scares me.”

“Yeah, I… figured I kind of owed it to you, after the ring diving thing in Hawai’i.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“No, I’m serious, Kitty. I’m sorry.” Emma reaches out and squeezes her shoulder. “Look, I… I haven’t been doing well with… falling, ever since Dubai. Being up on that platform was, ah. Scary. Which is why it took me a while to jump. If someone had pushed me, I’d have been really freaked out. And then really angry. So, I get it why that was fucked up. And I’m sorry.”

Kitty leans over and hugs her. “Aww, Emma. We’re good now, I promise.”

“Okay. Okay, cool.”

“But I gotta ask, what was up with Courtney?” 

“Wh—oh. Yeah, that. Ugh, that was embarrassing. I was totally panicking up there, and she was confused, until I said something about being scared to fall. Which I shouldn’t have, seeing as she’s the enemy, but I was out of it. But she offered to jump with me, saying that it was her fault I was scared of heights anyway. And I said I was scared of falling, not heights, and that it’s an important distinction, she agreed, and we jumped.”

“That was nice of her.”

“I guess so. I can’t say I wasn’t expecting her to gloat about it at the Chill Zone. I’m surprised she didn’t.”

Kitty shrugs. 

Maybe Courtney does care for other people. She just hasn’t realized it yet.

Chapter Text

Emma is, frankly, quite humiliated.

Or rather, she’s humiliated and pretending not to be. Everyone had managed to leap off those ledges without wigging out, even though some of them were up way higher than her. But Kitty had waved the flag, and Emma just… couldn’t jump.

She froze up. And Emma doesn’t freeze up.

Even when she had come to her senses about Jake’s true nature, she had still managed to coldly announce, “We’re over,” and march out of his apartment. The thought that she could take action in the face of that, but still falter when faced with a fall frustrates her. Is this what happens when she starts taking off the armor that had guarded her for the last three years? Does she just become… weak?

No, Emma thinks, it’s not that. She’d been on the verge of a panic attack after tumbling down the trap door in Australia, and that was before her big fight with Kitty. As loathe as she is to admit it, this new fear isn’t something she can control. Which makes it a chink in the armor she’s slowly shedding. A vulnerability.

Emma doesn’t like vulnerabilities. She doesn’t like taking off her armor to reveal the soft spots inside. 

But Kitty does. She spends more time with Emma now, draws her into conversations with their fellow contestants. Her face lights up whenever Emma encourages or compliments her on a challenge. Kitty is fearless, heartfelt, and loyal, which Emma is finally seeing. Kitty is a great sister, and Emma… isn’t. She’s been forgiven, but she still feels like a total bitch every time she remembers pushing Kitty off the docks in Hawai’i.

But she’s better now, right? She’s trying to be. The Sisters had gotten dinner with the Reality TV Pros and Best Friends last night, and while Courtney and Alejandro raved about the freshly baked tortillas and Owen devoured his pescado a la talla, Kitty had admitted to Emma that she was rather bummed that the Surfer Dudes were going home, and not just because they never got the chance to eat some delicious Mexican food that wasn’t from a gas station—Geoff and Brody were genuinely fun guys to be around. At that admission, Emma bit back her instinctive response about their lack of brains, and just said, “Hey, I’m sure they’d like to hang out once we’re done with the race.”

And that had been a good response, because Kitty had perked right up. And at the end of the night, Owen had promised to dig up Geoff’s phone number (from a long-dead Total Drama group chat that Noah mocked the existence of) after they finished the race and got their phones back. So yeah, maybe Emma isn’t the worst sister in the world.

Though it definitely takes self restraint to not be a complete bitch the next morning, because their plane leaves at seven, which means they have to up and ready to film at five. Ugh. Emma manages to roll out of bed, get sufficiently dressed and fed, grab a Travel Tip, ignore whatever death glares the Goths are sending the Ice Dancers, call a cab, and board the plane, all without snapping at her little sister. It’s a bigger accomplishment than anyone realizes.

Once they’re in the air, most of the twelve remaining contestants opt to catch up on sleep, Kitty included. She asks to borrow Emma’s textbook, and Emma is delighted to see her taking an interest in international law, before Kitty follows up her request with the reasoning that she’ll fall asleep quicker if she reads something boring. A little miffed, Emma still complies. It only takes ten minutes before Kitty is snoring.

“I’m surprised you’re still awake.”

Turning, Emma sees Courtney standing in the aisle, leaning against the side of an empty seat.

“I wait to sleep until I get really bored,” Emma says. “It’s a twenty hour flight, makes the most sense to sleep through the middle of it, not the beginning. And besides, I could say the same to you.”

Courtney shrugs. “Fair enough. I had to try some café de olla while we were in Acapulco, and while it was delicious, I won’t be dozing off any time soon.”

“Sounds like it,” Emma says. She considers cracking open her textbook, giving Courtney a signal to leave her alone. But it’s Courtney, so she might take that the opposite direction and strike up a discussion about diplomatic immunity. It’s just—Emma hasn’t really talked to Courtney since their conversation on the ledge. After she’d gotten past the sensation of hurtling through the air, gripping Courtney’s hand, a wave of embarrassment had washed over Emma. It’s not that she thinks Courtney will mock her for her weakness—Courtney had said it herself, that helping Emma was another way of setting things right since Dubai. But what kind of rival does that make Emma if she needs to hold her competitor’s hand to get through a challenge?

“How’re you feeling about the race?” Courtney asks.

“Good, I guess. We’ve made it this far. Curious to see what we’ll be doing in Cần Thơ.”

“Aww, that’s it? No thoughts on how you’re gonna try and fail to beat me?”

Emma falters.

“…Emma?”

“You shouldn’t have jumped with me last challenge,” Emma says. “You already made up for what happened in Dubai. I shouldn’t be scraping by in challenges because my own rival pities me.”

“I didn’t pity you.”

“Then why did you help me?”

Courtney opens her mouth, then closes it.

“See, that’s what I thought, pity—”

Courtney leans over toward Emma, who has a weird, fleeting thought of Is she about to kiss me on the cheek right now? until she realizes that Courtney is fiddling around with the little TV screen on the seat back in front of Emma.

“Come on, they’ve gotta have it…”

“What—” Emma tries to say, but ends up with a mouthful of Courtney’s curls. 

“Ah. There we go.” Courtney taps on the screen, and a video pops up. “Just… watch this.”

“What?” Emma asks again, but Courtney is already walking away. That’s weird, but Emma can’t deny she’s intrigued, so she puts her earbuds in as the video begins to play.

“Last time on Total Drama Island…”

Emma watches a recap of what appears to be a terrible camping trip, catching glimpses of a younger Courtney, Owen, and Geoff. It’s not until the annoyingly catchy theme song has played that Emma gets to take a longer look at this Courtney. Her hair is straightened, her freckles less prominent, and her face is bare of the small imperfections that Emma is almost certain are minuscule scars. 

The group of teenagers onscreen start confessing their fears around a fire—Owen’s is flying, which is old news to Emma, and Geoff’s is hail, which she wasn’t expecting—and she wonders if this is some convoluted way for Courtney to tell her it’s okay to have involuntary fears. Emma quickly sheds that theory when the sixteen year old Courtney claims to not be afraid of anything. Is this her way of bragging? But, no, that doesn’t seem right either. So Emma keeps watching.

As the challenge starts, Emma wonders if this is Courtney trying to encourage her to face her fear of falling? Which also doesn’t make sense, because Emma has been facing it for the Ridonculous Race, and it obviously hasn’t cured her of it. Besides, younger Courtney is the opposite of encouraging as she yells at her teammate to touch a snake for the sake of a point. Not that Emma doesn’t understand… unless this is Courtney’s way of motivating her to get over her fear so she can beat her in the competition?

But that still doesn’t seem right.

“It’s okay if you can’t do it,” younger Courtney tells the punk guy as he panics in the face of a Céline Dion music store standee. Is that the message current Courtney is trying to get across, or is it that there are people out there with stupider fears than her, so Emma shouldn’t be ashamed?

She gets distracted from figuring out Courtney’s logic as she wonders what kind of technology is being used to create a remote control cloud that dispenses seemingly limitless hail, and then shudders at the plane Owen is forced to fly in, but when a vat of green jelly and a high diving board comes into play, Emma’s full attention is back on Courtney. It’s strange to see how much she curls in on herself—the woman Emma knows is all raised chins and hands on hips, but the girl onscreen is quietly terrified, yet resigned. Emma waits for her to seize a burst of confidence and jump into the jelly, but she never does. It’s the first time Emma has ever seen Courtney walk away with her head hung.

“I’m so embarrassed,” younger Courtney sniffles in the confessional. “How could I be so weak? I deserve to go home. Ugh. Okay, stop it! You’re pathetic! Show some confidence, Courtney!”

She whimpers, and then slaps herself for it. And that’s when Emma realizes she’s been overthinking her message. All Courtney’s trying to say is—I understand.

They land in Vietnam at two in the afternoon local time, which is three in the morning back in Acapulco. Emma did manage to sleep through a good chunk of the flight, which turns out to not be as much of a blessing as she would’ve thought, as she doesn’t wake up until they’re landing, and her grogginess means the Sisters don’t make it to a taxi in time. At least Kitty is delighted to ride a rickshaw, and the kid driving it is a lot faster than Emma would’ve thought. 

The Goths also have to ride a rickshaw, a sight which is equal parts creepy and hilarious.

When the Sisters reach the Don Box, Emma is disheartened when she finds they’re the last team to arrive, and then confused when it appears the Best Friends and the Goths are just… hanging out?

“It’s a Super Team challenge,” Alejandro explains in lieu of a greeting. “The three of us have to work together to catch catfish by hand, essentially.”

“Teamwork makes the dream work, I guess,” Kitty says, following Courtney into the Super Team’s boat. 

“You should probably leave the little guy here,” Emma tells Ennui, gesturing to his pet rabbit. “Water can be really bad for bunnies—remember?—and it’s not like you could easily take him to a vet.”

At his hesitation, Crimson puts a hand on his arm. “He won’t leave us, Ennui. Loki proved it yesterday.”

“You’re right,” Ennui says, sharing some unreadable look with Loki before carefully placing him on the docks. “We’ll return soon.”

“If you see the Ice Dancers, eviscerate them,” Crimson tells Loki, who almost looks like he nods.

“What’s your beef with the Ice Dancers?” Emma asks, as Ennui helps Crimson onto the boat. The rest of their Super Team looks over at her inquiry.

“They kidnapped Loki yesterday,” Crimson says, “but he came back to us in the end.”

Kitty frowns. “Bunny-napping is so not cool! Unless it’s actual bunnies napping. Then it’s adorable.”

“I overheard the Ice Dancers playing mind games with Geoff during that narwhal ringing challenge,” Alejandro says. “They aren’t to be trusted.”

“You say that like I trust any opposing teams. Which I don’t,” Emma says.

“Except for the Pros,” Kitty adds.

“…Except for the Pros.”

“Well, you’ll have to trust us to catch catfish,” Courtney says. “How are we doing back there?”

From where they’re steering the boat, Ennui and Crimson give her identical blank stares.

“…Alright, good. Why don’t we cut the motor and drift a little bit, so we don’t scare the fish away?”

Silently, Ennui and Crimson oblige. 

“We should form a strategy for getting fish while we drift,” Emma says. “If we can lure them to us… but there’s no bait, apart from our fingers…”

“How about we scare them toward us?” Courtney suggests. 

“That could work!” 

“If some of us jump into the water—”

“—we could position ourselves so that the fish swim to the other half of the team!”

“Good thinking,” Alejandro says. “We could have two people scaring the fish, two people noodling them, and two people collecting them in the boat.”

Emma nods. “How about Courtney and Ennui cannonball off the stern, Alejandro and I can noodle the fish, and Kitty and Crimson stay on the boat to wrangle them?”

“I can’t go in the water,” Ennui says.

“His makeup will run,” Crimson adds.

“It’s okay, I can cannonball,” Kitty says.

Emma frowns. “Are you sure?”

“I’m only scared of deep water. I can totally do this!”

“Alright, then,” Emma says, heaving herself over the side of the boat. “Let’s go get some catfish!”

They do, in fact, get some catfish. Kitty and Courtney cannonball with gusto, Emma and Alejandro quickly end up with two catfish sucking on their hands, a horrifically weird sensation. The two of them pass the slimy suckers up to Crimson and Ennui, who keep them corralled on the boat. They repeat the process a few more times, and bam—six catfish!

“I’ll get the judge!” Kitty cheers, paddling away.

“Keep an eye out for the Ice Dancers,” Alejandro tells the Goths. “I wouldn’t put it past them to try and mess with our catfish.”

Offering a handshake to Emma, Courtney says, “Good working with you. We crushed this challenge.”

“We totally did,” Emma replies. “And, uh, about earlier on the plane—thanks. For getting it.”

Courtney smiles.

When Kitty comes back, the judge declares their catfish noodling a success, and presents them with the next Travel Tip. As they speed back to shore, Emma catches a glimpse of the other Super Team—Jacques is cowering on the boat, Noah and Sanders are glaring at the bickering MacArthur and Josee, and Owen is attempting to noodle all on his lonesome.

“Good luck,” Kitty calls to them—well, presumably just to the Reality TV Pros, but at her voice, MacArthur and Josee pause their fight to shoot daggers at her.

“Don’t taunt them,” Emma complains.

“I wasn’t taunting! I was just wishing the Pros good luck!”

“And how do you think the other teams are going to take that?”

“…Reasonably?”

Emma snorts.

When they clamber back onto the docks, Ennui scoops up Loki, and the three teams take rickshaws to the tunnels.

“I guess we split up here,” Alejandro says, when the Super Team reaches three diverging paths. The Goths don’t even wait for him to finish his sentence before trudging down the rightmost path.

“So, what do you two want?” Kitty asks, turning to the Best Friends. “Left or center?”

The Best Friends look to one another, then to the paths, then back to each other. They shrug.

“What if we both went down the same path?” Emma finds herself suggesting.

“Huh?”

“It’ll probably be easier if we encounter any traps—safety in numbers, right? Besides, if we end up picking the right path, and the Goths are on the wrong one—”

“The Goths are already on the right path,” Kitty interrupts cheekily.

“Fine, if we end up picking the correct path, that means we’re both guaranteed to get to the Chill Zone before the Goths.”

“Are you saying we should be in an alliance?” Courtney asks.

“Not necessarily—I just don’t like the thought of us beating you because of a chance-based decision rather than our superior running skills.”

“Your running skills so aren’t superior to mine. But sure. If you two are down…”

“I’m down!” Kitty says.

Alejandro nods. “To the left path, then.”

His decision may be random, but Emma can’t deny it’s a good one, seeing as they jog for fifteen minutes down the left path and don’t encounter anything more threatening than a skull. And a small crevice that Alejandro gets his boot stuck in, which leads to a lot of Spanish cursing and Courtney attempting to wriggle the boot out.

While she does that, Kitty pulls Emma out of earshot and says, “You’re not ditching our alliance with the Pros for them, right?”

“What? No. Why would you think that?”

“I’m just shocked you actually suggested working with another team when we didn’t have to! Whatever happened to all of our competition is evil and out to get us?”

“I didn’t say it quite like that,” Emma protests, “and it’s not like I trust them. I’d just much rather keep my enemies close.”

“I… guess that makes sense?”

“Sounding real confident there, Kit.”

“Sorry, I just… if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you like working with Courtney more than you like fighting with her.”

“Wh—don’t be ridiculous,” Emma scoffs. “I don’t like working with her. I’d leave her and Alejandro here and take off for the Chill Zone if I thought it was a good strategy.”

To prove this, she takes a few steps forward, and immediately feels the ground drop out from her feet.

“Whoa!”

Not again.

Kitty gasps. “Emma!”

“Help!” Emma yells. She’s not sure how she’s managed it in her panicked state—adrenaline, no doubt—but she’s gripping onto the edge of the pit she’s dangling over. And—oh no, are those spikes? “Kitty, help!”

“Hang on,” Kitty says, grabbing Emma’s wrists. She tries to pull her up, but Emma starts slipping out of her hands. “You’re too heavy!”

Emma catches another glimpse of the spikes below, and shrieks. Screwing her eyes closed, she waits for her grisly fate, only to be yanked up and onto solid ground. 

“Oh! Thank you, thank you!” Eyes still closed, she pulls Kitty into a hug. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

“Uh, you’re welcome,” someone says, and that’s when Emma realizes she’s embracing Courtney, not Kitty.

Emma glances at the pit, then to her sister, who’s giving her ankle a reassuring squeeze. Then back to Courtney. “Wait, did you—?”

“I’m so sorry, Emma, I was super close to dropping you, but Courtney ran over and pulled you up,” Kitty says. “Thank you, by the way.”

“Yeah, thank you,” Emma repeats.

“You’d do the same if—” and Courtney cuts herself off, abruptly stands, and begins walking further down the path.

“Uh… you good?” Kitty calls.

Having wriggled his boot free, Alejandro limps over to the Sisters. “She’s fine. I think it’s just déjà vu.”

“Huh,” Kitty says, before glancing to his scraped up boot. “Are you good?”

“Had to twist my ankle a bit to get it out of there. Nothing I can’t handle. That was some déjà vu of my own, actually.”

“What happened?”

As Alejandro launches into a tale of an abandoned mine, a feral contestant, and a spaghetti bazooka (okay, Emma’s pretty sure he’s making the whole thing up), the Sisters follow him and Courtney further down the path. Whatever weird funk she’s in quickly dissipates as they finally find the Don Box and acquire a map to the Chill Zone. Unfortunately, the Goths arrive in quick succession, meaning Emma’s logic about briefly teaming up with the Best Friends is rendered null. Ugh.

Emma’s heart sinks further once they emerge from the tunnels, only to see the Pros, the Cadets, and the Ice Dancers waiting at the Chill Zone.

“How is that possible?” she yells. “We finished noodling before them!”

“Owen caught the branded catfish!” Noah calls back.

“It slapped Jacques in the face!” MacArthur adds. “Totally awesome!”

“Zat is very rude!”

“I’m very rude.”

“That’s one thing we can both agree on,” Josee says.

Emma grunts, bearing down on the Chill Zone. The Best Friends are several paces ahead—Alejandro rather impressively running on his hands—but the Sisters and the Goths are neck and neck. And no matter how much she pushes herself, Emma just can’t overtake the Goths. In the back of her head, she wonders how Loki is staying perched so solidly on Ennui’s shoulder as the guy sprints.

Almost as if he can hear her thoughts, Loki chitters, and the Goths… stop dead in their tracks?

Not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, Emma quickly overtakes them, landing on the golden carpet a second before Kitty does.

“That’s fifth place for the Sisters! You’re still in the race!” Don announces, before turning to the Goths. “You two almost had it—what happened?”

“We had a debt to fulfill,” Crimson says, and to Emma’s surprise, she points at her.

“A debt? To me?” Emma asks. “What did I do?”

“You rescued Loki from an icy death in the Arctic Circle,” Ennui says. 

“Wait, wait, you just lost out on a million dollars because I saved your pet bunny once?”

“Yeah,” Crimson says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “I told you we would remember.”

“…Thank you?”

“Thank you,” Kitty affirms. “That’s really cool of you two, and we totally appreciate it!”

All Emma can do is nod. “Yeah. That.”

“Ohhh-kay then,” Don says, and then he’s shooing the Sisters away, presumably to wrap things up with the Goths. As soon as they’re out of the way, Kitty hugs Emma.

“I’m so proud of you!”

“Huh? What for? We almost lost!”

“Yeah, but we didn’t,” Kitty says. “Because you did something nice for another team.”

“I didn’t exactly do it thinking they’d save us from elimination.”

“Exactly!”

Kitty’s stomach attempts to punctuate her point with a loud rumble.

“All that noodle talk making you hungry?” Emma jokes.

“Honestly, yeah. Let’s get some dinner!”

“Slow down, we still gotta do our interviews for the day.”

“After, then. I can let the Pros know—” 

“Actually,” Emma says, “how about we get dinner just the two of us? It’s been a while.”

Kitty hugs her again. “Yeah. Let’s do that.”

Chapter Text

Alejandro is almost certain Courtney is having an internal crisis. 

She’s been withdrawn and jumpy ever since Emma’s brush with death—or, at least, serious injury by spikes—and Alejandro doesn’t know how to talk to her about it. He wants to reassure her that it’s not her fault, that she’d saved Emma, which kind of negates being the reason she has a fear of heights, right?

Not that Emma herself had informed Alejandro of that—Courtney had, when Alejandro questioned her about jumping from the ledge with Emma. She’d also made Alejandro swear not to use it against her, which he did. Anything to assuage Courtney’s guilt, however delayed it might be. Besides, he’s sure that when push comes to shove, Courtney would eagerly take a million dollars at Emma’s expense. They are rivals, after all.

Or… perhaps more. Back in China, Alejandro had joked about Courtney and Emma becoming the new him and Heather, but that’s all it was—a joke. It didn’t seem like much of a joke, more like a real possibility, after Courtney admitted she was distracted in the mechanical bull challenge because of Emma’s hair. There was definitely something going on there, and Alejandro would be hypocrite to deny it when he had ranted about Heather’s beauty in the confessional more than once.

Part of him wants to tease his best friend about her probably-crush. And another part of him knows that’s a terrible idea. Courtney is obviously adverse to the idea of dating again, not to mention they’re still on international television for a high stakes competition. Romantic distractions are the last thing either of them need if they want to win the million. 

Not that Alejandro is dealing with any romantic distractions of his own. He and Noah are just friends, despite what any incessant winking from Owen or odd questions from Kitty would imply. Honestly, Alejandro’s just grateful to regain Noah’s friendship, and some measure of his trust. He’s not going to jeopardize that pursuing feelings that he may or may not have—which he refuses to sit down and sort out, because regardless, Noah couldn’t possibly reciprocate those feelings. Which Alejandro probably doesn’t have.

You know what? If Courtney can live in denial, then so can he.

Upon settling down on the flight to Siberia—which they and the Sisters very nearly miss—Alejandro turns to Courtney, but before he can ask her how she’s doing (she’s been unusually quiet all morning), MacArthur bounds toward their row of seats and asks, “How’d you two like to join our alliance?”

“MacArthur,” Sanders says, walking up to her partner, “you could at least try a little tact. Maybe greet them first?”

“Hi. How’d you two like to join our alliance?”

“I… wasn’t aware you were in an alliance with another team,” Alejandro says, when it’s clear Courtney is too baffled to respond. 

“We’ve briefly teamed up with the Ice Dancers, and we’re asking you to join the Axis of Evil.”

Courtney snorts. “The what now?”

“My offhand comment accidentally became the name of our alliance,” Sanders says. “But as ridonc—sorry, ridiculous as the name is, it’s a serious offer. You two are solid competitors, and we’d like to have you on our side.”

“At least until we take out the Pros and Sisters,” MacArthur says. “Then, it’s every man for himself!”

“We’d still be on a team together, MacArthur.”

“Yeah, and we’re both women. Which is why I said man. You’re welcome!”

“…I don’t even know how to respond to that.”

“Well,” Alejandro says, “that’s certainly an unexpected offer.”

“Give it some thought. I think our three teams could work well together,” is what Sanders says with her mouth. What her eyes say is please let me ally with sane people for once in this competition, please, I’m too dignified to plead outright but internally, I’m begging you.

Courtney taps her chin. “We’ll think about it, and get back to you.”

Mollified by that answer, the Police Cadets nod, before heading back toward their seat.

“They’re in an alliance with the Ice Dancers?” Courtney quietly exclaims. “How did that happen?”

“It must’ve formed when they worked together for the last challenge. Though who could’ve seen it coming?”

“This isn’t good.”

“Do you think we should attempt to contribute to their mutually assured destruction, instead of just waiting for it to happen?”

“What? No, I told you, no unnecessary manipulation. The villains—”

“—never win,” Alejandro finishes. “I know.”

“But now, we’re the only team who isn’t allied with another.”

“…Right. Right, because the Pros and the Sisters have their Airport Alliance, which makes us an easy target.”

“Does it?” Courtney asks. “Or will the Axis of Evil target the Airport Alliance so in order to be the biggest force in the race?”

“That wouldn’t surprise me. Especially if they’re trying to get us to join their alliance, it must mean they want the numbers advantage in order to take down the Pros and Sisters…”

“…who might try to get us on their side for the exact same reason.”

Alejandro’s eyes light up. “Now, here’s an idea. We publicly join the Axis of Evil, but are secretly working for the Airport Alliance, and sabotage the Axis! That way we can have the protection of the largest alliance, but take out the competitors we like least in the process.”

“That’s way too risky. If we get caught trying to sabotage them, then we have the full wrath of the Axis to deal with. Besides, it’s not about who we like the most. It’s about what strategy will take us furthest in the competition.”

“And what do you think that strategy is?”

“We don’t join either alliance, but make it seem like we’re still deciding. The others will tear each other apart while leaving us alone because they’ll be hoping to get us on their side.”

“You’re making this sound like a love triangle.”

Courtney grimaces. “Don’t say love triangle.”

“Bad memories?”

“Duh.”

“I like your plan, but I guess I’m just curious how opposed you are to joining the Airport Alliance.”

“I’m strongly opposed to joining either alliance. It’s just setting ourselves up to get stabbed in the back. Besides, we don’t need any of them to win—we’re enough.”

“You didn’t seem to mind working with the Sisters last challenge,” Alejandro snips. He loves Courtney, but he’s getting a little tired of her aggressive attitude around alliances automatically shutting down an objective discussion on strategy.

“Only because Emma’s logic was sound, and I certainly don’t want to work with her again!”

“Her?”

“Her and Kitty. You know what I mean.”

Sighing, Alejandro crosses his legs (and bites back a wince). “If you honestly think leading on the other alliances but joining neither is what’s best for us in the game…”

“I do.”

“Then I’m on board.”

“Thank you,” Courtney says, rubbing her eyes. “Sorry. Just… slept terribly last night.”

“Did my nonexistent snoring keep you up?”

“Your totally existent snoring wasn’t the issue.”

“Then what was?”

“…I don’t think we should’ve come back.”

“Come back…?”

“To reality television.”

“I know it hasn’t exactly been a walk in the park, but it’s been no worse than Total Drama. And we’ve made it to the final five!”

“Yeah…”

Maybe it’s just a rare bout of insecurity eating away at her?

Alejandro places a hand on Courtney’s back. “And we’ve gotten to work together, as teammates, every step of the way. Mark my words, the Best Friends will be making it to the finale.”

“Yeah,” Courtney says again. She’s smiling at him, but Alejandro knows her well enough to see that it’s forced—and can feel her shoulders curling in under his hand.

They don’t speak much for the rest of the flight, except to titter when it’s announced that the upcoming challenge will have a boomerang in play.

“This, plus a double alliance, is going to make today very interesting,” Alejandro says.

Kitty, who’s passing through the aisle, pauses to chat at this. “I know, right? Hey, speaking of alliances, how do you two feel about joining the one we’ve got with the Pros?”

“That’s quite an idea.”

“What do you think, Courtney? I know you and Emma have your whole rivalry thing going on, but you worked well together last challenge!”

“I don’t know…”

“Is Emma on board with us joining your alliance?” Alejandro asks, ignoring the slight look Courtney gives him.

“Oh, totally! It’s so funny, she started out the competition being sooo anti-alliance, but she thinks you two joining forces with us and the Pros is a great idea. Are you down?”

“We’ll think about it,” Courtney says.

Nodding, Kitty makes inane chatter for a few more minutes before bidding them farewell and returning to her seat, no doubt to report back to her sister.

Alejandro turns to Courtney. “Are you sure you don’t want to…?”

“No.”

Upon landing in Siberia—and receiving approximately zero boomerangs from the Don Box—Alejandro retracts any gratitude he’d had toward the Ridonculous Race for giving them cold gear in the Arctic Circle. Chris may have been monstrous, but he’d never made them wear swimsuits in freezing temperatures. Though to be fair, Alejandro’s more annoyed at the makeup he’ll have to apply to cover his scars than the actual wearing of his speedo. He’s appreciative that the makeup team has been able to provide fast-drying concealer that matches his skin tone, but whatever the stuff’s made of always has a way of making his scars itch like crazy. At least he’d been able to acquire stronger pain medication at the airport.

He’s applying the finishing touches in a changing stall when he hears Emma say, “So, you still undecided on joining our alliance?”

“You could say that,” Courtney says in a tone that definitely implies she’s made up her mind.

“…Uh huh. What does Alejandro think?”

“He agrees with me.”

“And your verdict is… you’re undecided,” Emma says, and Alejandro knows by undecided she means not joining our alliance. “Do you really think that’s the best move? You’d have safety in numbers with us.”

“I’d much rather openly distrust opposing teams then having to pretend I don’t.”

“I see.”

“Look, it’s not personal—”

“No, no, I think it’s a sound mentality to have. And since we’re being direct, I just want to confirm—there’s really no chance of us working together?”

“None,” Courtney says, and Alejandro wants to bang his head against the wall. This is not what they had discussed!

“Good to know I don’t have to try and appeal to you, then,” Emma says. “I’ll see you out there—when I beat you to the million.”

“I think you mean, when I beat you.”

“Keep underestimating me. It’ll make you look even stupider when I win.”

Courtney snorts fondly, and once he hears Emma’s footsteps fade away, Alejandro emerges and gives her a look. 

Which she blatantly ignores. “Come on, let’s go!”

Privately determining that they will most definitely be having a talk about this later, Alejandro hops in the ice yacht, and the two set off after the Sisters. The Pros are soon sliding after them. And then in front of them and the Sisters as a friendly yeti gives them a push. The Best Friends end up third to reach the Don Box, just behind the Sisters, of which Kitty is reaching for the next Travel Tip. 

Until Emma yells, “Wait!”

She spins around, and in her hands, pointing directly at the Best Friends, is a boomerang.

Alejandro freezes. “Ah… let’s not do anything hasty…”

“You got the boomerang,” Courtney says, a growing horror spreading across her face. “You got it…”

“Yep, and seeing as there’s no hope of you two joining our alliance, I think it’s perfectly reasonable for me to play it,” Emma says.

“I told you, I don’t want to use it!” Kitty protests. “Not on them!”

“Well, we can’t wait around for the Axis of Evil, and they made it clear they’re not on our side—”

Alejandro glares at Courtney, who winces.

“—so I’m taking my opportunity to eliminate a strong team.”

Which she hasn’t done yet. Meaning there’s still a chance to talk their way out of it.

“Consider this,” Alejandro says. “Only half of the teams have completed the first challenge, which means sending us back to the start doesn’t automatically guarantee an elimination. What it does guarantee is making a very powerful enemy for the rest of the game. Now, I don’t want that to happen. I like you two, and if my teammate didn’t have some emotional hangups, then I would’ve happily joined your alliance. I don’t want to be your enemy. I think it’s nice that Courtney has a fellow law student that she can get so wrapped up in conversation with, and I’ve really enjoyed our chats, Kitty. Speaking of our chats, I would really hate to see Emma’s use of this boomerang drive a wedge further between you two.”

Yeah, I’ve still got it.

“I’m not exactly taking pleasure from this,” Emma says. “But you two have made it clear you’re not with us, and if you’re not with us, then you’re against us. And this is a competition. So I have to do it.”

Courtney holds up a finger. “Are you being forced to?”

“Situationally, yes, this is my only chance to use a boomerang.”

“So you have proof that any and all future challenges will be devoid of boomerangs?”

“With the amount of episodes left—”

“Do you have proof?”

“Well, no, but—”

“So this isn’t necessarily your only chance to use a boomerang?”

“You can’t prove that there will be more boomerangs in the future, or that my team will get one,” Emma says. “So it’s a moot point.”

“Fair enough, so I’ll make a different claim. If you boomerang us, we’ll make sure you lose this race. Even if we’re eliminated, we’ll have plenty of time to tell the Axis of Evil to focus on taking you out, and detailing all weaknesses that could make that possible.” 

Emma frowns, Kitty gawks, Courtney keeps going, and Alejandro just watches her. She’s doing a brilliantly ruthless job—of cleaning up the mess she made.

“Now, let’s say you boomerang us, and we still don’t get eliminated. On top of the Axis, you now have an incredibly experienced team out for your blood. This is your first season—this is my fifth. I’ve pulled bobsleds, fought sharks, and commandeered hot air balloons, all while winning immunity and orchestrating eliminations. But enough about me—Alejandro, would you like to tell Emma about all the people you’ve sent home?”

“Gladly,” Alejandro says, giving the Sisters his evilest grin. “Let’s see… I convinced Harold to vote himself off, and then convinced the rest of his team to eliminate his crush. I made DJ fall apart at the height of his confidence—because I had built it up myself, only to tear it down when the time was right. I stole Heather’s immunity idol and used it against her. Girl after girl fell under my spell, and I got each and every one of them booted off the show. Did either of you notice how Geoff doesn’t like me? It’s because I once charmed his girlfriend, convinced her to kiss me, and left her stuck to a pole. You think Noah and Owen are pros? I got them both eliminated my very first season—where I made it to the final two. If you’re wondering why you haven’t seen any villains more impressive than the Ice Dancers on this show so far, it’s because I haven’t even felt the need to resort to my old tactics yet. You know, recently, Noah told me I’d mellowed out. That’s an understatement—you two haven’t actually scratched the surface when it comes to seeing what I’m capable of. And if you’re smart, you’ll keep it that way.”

It’s not like he wants to destroy the Sisters, or further disrupt the somewhat friendly ground they had been on before Courtney’s blatant refusal to ally, but Alejandro can’t deny how freeing it is to let his villainous side loose, if only for a monologue. Once the show’s over, he should definitely watch this moment. He’s certain he looks tantalizingly terrifying.

“Thank you, Alejandro.” Courtney places her hands on her hips. “Now, Emma, Kitty, you don’t have to feel threatened. As long as you don’t boomerang us, there’s no reason not to be amicable. Alejandro and I have gotten this far without any kind of sabotage or manipulation, and we’d like to keep it that way. We don’t want to be the bad guys. All you have to do is grab the next Travel Tip, and we can put this behind us. Go back to being regular rivals. Don’t think that just because you tried to boomerang us, you’re still making a deadly enemy if you don’t go through with it. I can admire the play—and it makes me appreciate our rivalry more, which is why I’m offering you the chance not to completely shoot yourself in the foot. So, Emma—can you even give me one good argument to use that boomerang that I can’t counter?”

Eyes wide, cheeks flushed, Emma’s fingers tighten around the boomerang.

Rip! 

Two halves of the Travel Tip flutter to the ground.

“…That was a really good defense,” Emma admits, clearly taken off guard. She sticks out a hand. “Are we good to go back to, you know, our regularly scheduled rivalry? No working together, but no vengeance missions?”

Courtney shakes her hand. “We’re good. I really do respect the effort.”

“Oh my God, you two can get vicious,” Kitty says. “My heart is pounding, that was so scary, Alejandro.”

“Thank you! And I’m sorry.”

“It’s all good. Courtney just lawyered the fuck outta Emma—that’s total karma for all the times she’s done that to me! Especially since I told her I didn’t want to use the boomerang.”

“Sorry about that, Kit,” Emma says.

Kitty reaches over and snags the next Travel Tip. “I’m still miffed, but we’ll work on it.”

The crew instructs them to take turns changing in the nearby pair of stalls. The Sisters go first, and while they’re inside, Alejandro leads Courtney out of earshot.

“You know I’ve got your back for this race, but I’m quite annoyed with you.”

“I know,” she says.

“We could’ve very easily lost, all because you refused to join an alliance or stick to our strategy.”

“I know.”

“Do you?” Alejandro crosses his arms. “Do you know why you’re so cagey today? Because if that keeps messing with our game—”

“I’m fine! I’ve been fine! Emma’s the one who threatened to boomerang us!”

“…Which I thought you weren’t taking personally. But your pouting would suggest otherwise.”

“I am not pouting.”

“You are, and why are you so upset? I thought you said you admired her play—”

“I do admire her! Play! I do admire her play.”

“Then what’s with the sulking? Because just a few minutes ago, you sounded like this cool, unaffected lawyer—”

“That’s what I needed to win the argument and get Emma to like—to listen to me. Get Emma to listen to me.”

At that, Alejandro has three realizations.

The first being, while most of his sabotage and manipulations have been calculated, impersonal stepping stones on the way to a million dollars, Courtney’s have always been… a lot more emotionally charged. Personal.

The second realization is, that if the boomerang incident is personal for Courtney, then her feelings for Emma go beyond an engaging rivalry. Alejandro’s seen it all before—he’s been in her position. Whether Courtney fully knows it or not, she has feelings for Emma. Meaning the boomerang attempt is a rude awakening to how Emma feels for her.

Alejandro’s final realization is that Courtney is terrified. Terrified of her feelings, terrified of what they mean for the race, for her and Emma, terrified that they might slip out from her carefully guarded heart. She’s scared she’s falling into another Gwen situation that can only end in tears and pain.

It isn’t the first time Alejandro is left wondering why she made that list. He’s never quite figured it out.

“Courtney, I would never let a boomerang get us knocked out of the race,” he tells her. “We’re too capable for that.”

“You think these shows can be won on skill alone? You think Cameron was the first person to have the votes rigged against him?”

“I’m… not exactly sure where you’re going with that, but you know Emma didn’t intend for it to be personal—”

“How could it not be?”

“What, you think I cared about half the people I eliminated on World Tour? They were just means to an end. It’s not always personal, Courtney. Sometimes you’re just in the way of what other people want.”

“I thought…” Courtney turns away. “Whatever. Let’s just get this dumb challenge over with.”

And Alejandro grabs her shoulder, because no. He’s tired of dancing around the subject. He’s tired of doing damage control for her repressive tendencies. He’s tired. 

“You want it to be personal.”

“What?”

“For Emma,” Alejandro says, and Courtney turns back to him at that. “You want it to be personal for Emma, because that means she cares about you.”

“Wh—no, that’s not—”

“It’s okay if you really like her, Courtney. You can’t control these feelings, and I know you’re hesitant around romance, but it’s okay if you want—”

“No!” Courtney yells. “No, it’s not okay to—to have feelings, to trust anyone here, because it’s only a matter of time before they feel threatened, or—or overwhelmed, or they don’t like you anymore, and then they try to stab you in the back—”

And Alejandro figures it out.

“Dios mío, I understand now!”

“…Understand what?”

“Why you made the list.”

“Don’t—”

“Because for once, things were finally going well with Gwen, and you were scared! You kept waiting for the other shoe to drop, and you thought that it would be less painful to betray her, rather than be betrayed again. Having something good, something lasting, is inconceivable to you. The slightest possibility of beginning to trust someone terrifies you, so you make every excuse to push them away! If you act like someone’s already stabbed you in the back, you don’t have to worry about it happening in the future, right?”

“You are so off base,” Courtney snarls, voice shaking.

“No, I don’t think I am,” Alejandro says. His throat constricts. Because an awful, awful thought has come to him. “Courtney, tell me the truth—is that why we’re friends?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Is your hesitance to get close to people why you were so willing to be my friend, back when we first reconnected? Because it was me, a known backstabber? So you figured you never had to worry about bothering to trust me because it was only a matter of time before—”

“YOU’RE THE ONLY PERSON I TRUST!”

Alejandro just stands there, staring at Courtney as she glares at him.

“Don’t you dare imply that I don’t think of you as my friend! I didn’t think I was capable of having friends after everything, after Gwen, but you proved me wrong. You understand me like nobody else does. You treat me like nobody else does. You know me better than anybody else does, and I know you. I know you, Alejandro, and I know you would never go out of your way to hurt me. You are the only person that doesn’t make me feel like a—like a fucking empty shell of a person!”

“Courtney…”

“You think I want to be this way?” she asks, and her voice cracks as she fights back tears. “I don’t want to be guarded, I don’t want to be heartless, but I am! Shows like this took so much of myself away from me, and now I’m just. Now I’m just broken.”

“You are not broken.”

“I am.”

“You’re not.” Alejandro wraps her into a hug, and she sobs against his chest. It’s suddenly so ridiculous to even entertain the notion that she thought of him as anything less than her best friend.

As her shaky tears subside, he rubs her back. “Courtney, you are not broken. You’re… scarred. Like my legs. You know what else my legs are?”

“Really appealing to everyone but lesbians?”

“Well, yes, and they’re even appealing to some lesbians, present company excluded. But I was going to say healing. My legs are healing.”

“Are they? You’ve refused to take it easy this whole competition.”

“I’ll take it incredibly easy after we win the million, okay? But what I’m trying to say is, you’re not broken. You’re healing.”

“Promise you’re not lying?”

“Don’t you trust me?”

“I do.” Courtney steps away, wiping at her face. “I’m sorry. About… everything.”

Alejandro squeezes her shoulder. “I forgive you. And I apologize for yelling.”

“It’s okay.”

“Well, would you look at that? Our biggest fight, and we’re still friends.”

“Best friends.”

“Best friends,” Alejandro affirms, glancing over at the Kola Borehole—

—where three opposing teams are fully clothed and have started the challenge. 

“What the—I thought we were next in line to change? When did the Ice Dancers get here?”

“Uh, you two have been talking for a while, and there’s no way I was gonna interrupt that drama,” the camera operator filming them says. “You’re kinda in last place now, though.”

Alejandro and Courtney lock eyes, let loose a string of expletives, and scramble toward the competition.

By the time the Best Friends are dressed and getting ready to crank, the Ice Dancers have already darted off to the Chill Zone, and the Police Cadets are narrowly avoiding falling down the hole, ice yacht and all. While they go get changed, Courtney thrusts the harness at Alejandro. “I’ll crank.”

“Are you sure? I have great upper body strength—not that you don’t, but you’re lighter.”

“…I didn’t want to have to bring this up, but you crashed our glider in New Zealand—”

“This doesn’t require steering, it’s totally different. And besides, you drove a bus off a—”

“It’s not about the driving!” Courtney exclaims. “You crashed the glider because you got hit with a wave of nerve pain, and I don’t want to risk something similar happening when you’re lowering me seven miles into the Earth.”

“…Oh.”

“I’m sorry—”

“No, no, I understand,” Alejandro says. He does get it, even if he hates how complicated his damaged legs always seem to make things. 

As he straps himself into his harness, he notices Emma and Owen exchanging headsets. “What’s that about?”

“The Ice Dancers stole our ball and broke Noah’s light, so he’s swapping helmets with Kitty now that she’s found a ball,” Owen explains. “If he’s still looking when you get down there, say hi to him for me, Alejandro!”

If he wasn’t intent on making sure he’s very secure in his harness, Alejandro would question the logic of relaying a message to Noah for Owen when Owen literally has a headset for communicating with Noah. Whatever. Who knows how that guy’s brain works.

He doesn’t end up seeing Noah at the bottom, as his friend is being pulled up by Owen by the time Alejandro is halfway down the hole.

“Heard you got sabotaged by the Ice Dancers,” he calls to Noah.

From somewhere much higher, Kitty yells, “They fucking suck!”

“Don’t make any sarcastic comments about their profession to their faces,” Noah advises Alejandro, as he ascends back to the surface. 

He’s wearing the beanie again. It’s adorable.

It’s not much longer until he reaches the bottom of the hole. Which is freaky, but not nearly as freaky as the mines back on Wawanakwa, or Area 51. As he begins hunting for a ball, he hears the whirrrr of the Police Cadets’ pulley system. His lead is getting shorter by the second.

Thankfully, Alejandro spies a flash of red behind a rock. “Courtney, I’ve just laid eyes on a ball. Give me a minute, and then you can pull me up!”

“You found one? Awesome! I’m ready to crank when you are.”

Reaching behind the rock, Alejandro grabs the ball. It vaguely occurs to him that the whirrrr of the Cadets has gotten louder. Probably just because whichever one is strapped in (most likely Sanders) is getting close to the bottom.

It isn’t until he’s standing in the mouth of the hole, about to tell Courtney to pull him up, when Alejandro realizes it’s not just a whirring sound he hears. It’s also a scream. 

“¿Qué es—”

WHAM!

A weight slams him into the stone floor, and Alejandro lets out a scream of his own as pain jolts through his legs. He’s vaguely aware of Courtney yelling into his headset, and another person groaning next to him, but all Alejandro can think of is the current sensation of a thousand dull knives ripping his legs to pieces. 

A mix of English and Spanish curses spew from his mouth, and as he breaks off panting, the pain lessens just enough for Alejandro to get his bearings. He’s on the ground, and nearby is Sanders, whimpering over her wrist.

“Alejandro! Alejandro, are you okay? Do I need to come down there? Alejandro, we’ve alerted the medic—can you hear me? Alejandro, please—”

“I’m okay,” Alejandro tells Courtney, whose shaky sigh of relief is audible over his headset. “Sanders—I think Sanders landed on me, and it hurt, but I’m okay.”

He turns to Sanders. “Are you okay?”

“I think I broke my wrist,” she gasps. “MacArthur, don’t you say anything, I am not—”

It takes Alejandro a few seconds to realize she’s talking into her headset, and several more to realize that Courtney is asking him a question. “What was that?”

“They’ve got an ambulance on the way up here,” she says. “Can I pull you up? Is Sanders okay to be pulled up?”

“You can pull me up. I’ll check with Sanders.”

“I can go up,” Sanders says, after Alejandro asks. Then, to her headset, “MacArthur, if you drop me again—”

“We’re both good to return,” Alejandro tells Courtney.

So she cranks him up to the surface, Sanders not far behind, and tries to shove him in an ambulance. Which Alejandro protests. His legs don’t feel remotely decent, but the initial pain has subsided into a dull throb, and some stroke of good sense meant he had pocketed his ball before Sanders crashed into him. Not that the Police Cadets could possibly be real competition now, but Alejandro would like to lock in fourth place regardless.

He successfully talks the show’s medic into looking him over while the ambulance carts Sanders to the doctor, and while the medic declares his legs bruised on top of already being scarred, she doesn’t insist on a trip to urgent care. Then again, she doesn’t know about his history of fucked up legs, but Alejandro isn’t about to tell her if it means getting to continue the race with little fuss. And a whole lot more painkillers.

Courtney is still worried about him, especially when he runs to the Chill Zone entirely on his hands—thank God he’d been given gloves—but Alejandro is able to power through the pain.

“Best Friends, you’re in fourth place!” Don declares.

Alejandro fist pumps, and nearly topples over. 

At Don’s dismissal, Courtney promptly drags him to their hotel room, where she insists on acquiring a metric ton of ice for Alejandro’s legs, and bans him from getting up from his bed. Alejandro protests—he’s definitely dealing with some muscle contusions, but other than that, he’s totally fine! To which Courtney replies that no, he’s not, but he will be fine if he lets qualified CIT Courtney take care of him, and he’d be a silly Ale-saurus not to agree to that. So he argues no more when she orders room service for the both of them and puts on an episode of The Cool Canadian Cooking Show. After they eat dinner—and dessert, because they absolutely deserve it after today—Courtney ends up lying on the bed next to Alejandro, her head on his shoulder. It’s quiet, and peaceful, and even if Alejandro’s legs still ache, this is the best he’s felt in quite some time.

“It’s okay if you can’t do it,” Courtney says. “You know that, right?”

“I know. But I promise, I can keep going in the competition just fine.”

And she nods, because she trusts Alejandro. 

Even when he’s lying.

Chapter Text

The morning of their next challenge, Noah walks into the lobby of the Russian hotel the cast and crew are staying at, and is met with a peculiar sight. Emma is determinedly leading Kitty through lunges, the Ice Dancers and the Police Cadets (of which Sanders is sporting a cast on her wrist) are having a hushed conversation, and Alejandro is standing on his hands.

“Huh,” Owen says. “I guess there weren’t any eliminations yesterday.”

“We got sabotaged for nothing, then?” 

“I mean, wouldn’t you rather be sabotaged during a non-elimination round than an elimination one?”

“Good point, big guy. We’d better make sure to steer clear of the Ice Dancers.”

“Hey guys!” Kitty chirps, wandering over to the Reality TV Pros. She lowers her voice. “FYI, Emma’s on a total competitive kick right now. She made me do all these stretches so we’d be ready to run today. Not that I think she’s got the wrong idea—yesterday was crazy!”

“Yeah,” Owen says, “it took like an hour for my nipples to unfreeze.”

“…What? Oh, I mean, same, but I was talking about the thing with the Cadets.”

Noah raises an eyebrow. “Thing with the Cadets?”

“You didn’t hear?”

“No. Is that why Sanders has a cast?”

“Yeah, MacArthur dropped her down the hole and she broke her wrist!”

“Ooooh,” Owen cringes. “That’s gotta hurt.”

“And they’re still staying in the game?” Noah asks.

Kitty shrugs. “Don let them, so yeah.”

“You gotta admire the grit,” Emma says, walking up to the three. “But MacArthur’s a complete psychopath, so Sanders should really save herself the trouble of breaking another bone.”

“Okay, I’m not MacArthur’s biggest fan, but I think she’s turned a new leaf!”

“How come?”

“Well, I heard her apologizing to Alejandro when we came down this morning,” Kitty says, and Noah raises his other eyebrow.

“She was apologizing to him? What does she have to apologize for?”

“Besides being obnoxious,” Emma quips, and Noah offers her a high-five. 

“She said something like, ‘sorry for dropping my partner on you, and thanks for breaking her fall’,” Kitty says, doing a truly awful impression of MacArthur. “I guess Sanders fell onto Alejandro?”

Emma nods. “That would explain the circus act.”

“Huh.” Noah looks back over at Alejandro, and yeah, he can see it—the tightness around his eyes, how gingerly he shifts his legs in the air, Courtney standing nearby in protective proximity.

Owen nudges him. “You should check in on him.” 

“Ask him how he’s doing,” Kitty adds, and Noah gives both of them the stink eye.

“What, are you two crazy?” Emma rolls her eyes. “Don’t show sympathy for the enemy. It makes you look weak.”

Suddenly very aware that Emma is the only person here who doesn’t know about Noah’s crush, the Reality TV Pros and Kitty exchange uhhhh looks with one another.

“Come on, Emma, there’s no harm in common decency,” Kitty finally says. “And Noah and Alejandro are friends—”

Owen snickers. Noah swats him.

Emma just shakes her head. “Look, I don’t want to have to be the bad guy, but we’re in the final five now.”

“We were in the final five last challenge,” Kitty points out.

“Fine, how about this: at the end of the day, we’ll be in the final four. Things are getting serious, and while I definitely think this alliance is a good counter to whatever’s going on with the Axis of Evil, we’re not going to get as lucky as we did last challenge. I’m glad we were able to swap headsets, but that’s not always—”

“You’re saying that you have to further prioritize winning over helping us not lose now that we’re in the home stretch,” Noah summarizes. 

“Pretty much, yeah.”

“Seems reasonable to me.”

Owen frowns. “Wait, we’re still in an alliance though, right?”

“Right,” Kitty says. “I think what Emma’s getting at is that when push comes to shove—”

“—it has to be every team for themselves. Itself? What’s the right grammar there?”

Noah shrugs. And considers going over to Alejandro to ask how he’s doing, but he never gets the chance, as the crew starts herding the cast toward the Don Box sauna. That had been one perk of the otherwise frustrating challenge yesterday, not having to ride a bus to their hotel. Though Noah supposes his annoyance over the Ice Dancers’ sabotage pales in comparison to a broken wrist. The brute force equivalent of friendly fire, or something. Not that he hasn’t been on the receiving end of it many times, but that’s just a hazard of befriending Owen.

The Sisters weren’t kidding about Emma stepping up her game. As she tackles a taxi, Noah hears Courtney, MacArthur, and Josee mutter, “Why didn’t I think to do that?”

Sometimes he wonders if he’s the only sane one on this show.

It’s a seven hour flight to India. Noah’s mostly excited, as he’s never been, but a little bummed they won’t be anywhere near his mother’s hometown of Chittoor. Owen decides he’s going to ask Alejandro to hypnotize him, as the Pros’ knockout concoction has almost run out, and it’s been messing with Owen’s sleep patterns anyway. The two traipse over to the Best Friends, where Alejandro is spread out across an entire row of seats.

“Heard you got used as a landing pad yesterday,” Noah says in lieu of greeting. “How are the legs?”

“Just leg-cellent.”

“I am so sick of that fucking pun,” Courtney groans from across the aisle.

“Well, I’m glad it’s not too bad,” Owen says, and Noah looks at him like, Are you kidding me? because Alejandro is clearly in a fair amount of pain and doing a poor job of hiding it.

Actually, it’s more likely that he’s doing a good job of hiding it, and Noah can just… see past the front he’s putting up. 

So lost in thought, Noah completely misses Owen’s request for hypnotism and what follows, until he notices Courtney clambering out of her seat and Owen sliding in.

“What’s going on?” Noah asks. “Kinda spaced out.”

Courtney tugs him down the aisle. “Alejandro’s hypnotizing Owen in my seat because it’s the only place he doesn’t have to move to do it. Which means we need to get out of his line of sight so it’ll work.”

“Do you really believe in this hypnosis stuff?”

“Honestly, no, but even I can’t deny that Alejandro gets results. Somehow.”

“He’s kind of incredible like that,” Noah says, and immediately wants to slap himself for it. Good job, he totally didn’t sound like a lovesick idiot. Not that he’s lovesick, or a idiot, but everyone who falls for Alejandro ends up making a fool of themselves. He’d rather not join their ranks.

Before Courtney can question that statement, Noah asks, “So, how’s it been? Being back on TV. I mean, Owen and I have been running this gauntlet for a while now, but this is your first time since Total Drama, right?”

“It certainly wasn’t my idea.”

“But you had to have agreed. I mean, I know Alejandro’s good, but he’s not good enough to convince you to do something you don’t want to. When you’re not having a Duncan-induced emotional breakdown, that is.”

“Don’t remind me,” Courtney snorts. “Weirdly enough, it’s kind of nice to be back doing high stakes challenges. Not that I want to be risking my life on a daily basis, but sometimes trying to get the highest score on an international law test doesn’t quite fulfill that competitive drive.”

“I didn’t even think I had a competitive drive last year, but now I’m doing all sorts of crazy shit trying to win.”

“Like noodling with the Axis of Evil?”

“Zero out of ten, do not recommend.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. And oh, this is my stop,” Courtney says, sliding into an empty row of seats. “I hope you and Owen don’t lose too painfully to me and Alejandro.”

“Never change, Courtney,” Noah quips, before walking back to his seat. 

From the row across from him, Emma asks, “What was that all about?”

“Who knows.”

Once the flight to Bagdogra lands and another very stressful bout of taxi-calling ensues, the remaining teams spill out onto the mountains of Darjeeling—and instantly perish from the heat.

Noah peels off his sweater vest, seeing that Courtney is also unbuttoning her cardigan. The Ice Dancers are crawling on the ground, MacArthur is yelling about her pits, and Emma is attempting to calm Kitty’s humidity-adverse hair down. 

“Hot,” Owen pants. “Very, very hot.”

“I know, big guy,” Noah says. His best friend has never been great in high temperatures.

In quick succession, the final five teams swipe their Travel Tip from the Don Box, and receive baskets from a local tea farmer dressed in pink. Upon handing Noah his, the woman says, “Mailē timīlā'ī pahilē ṭēlibhijanamā dēkhēkō chu. Yō ēka saṅga śubhakāmanā!”

Okay, he has absolutely no idea what that means.

“Maṉṉikkavum, nāṉ tamiḻ maṭṭumē pēcukiṟēṉ,” he responds. I’m sorry, I only speak Tamil.

She just smiles, and says in Tamil, “I've seen you on television before. Good luck with this one!”

“Naṉṟi,” Noah thanks her. He makes his way back to Owen with the basket, only to pause in his tracks at an odd pattering sound. Turning, he finds Alejandro walking toward him on his hands.

“Were you speaking Hindi?”

“Nah, that was Tamil.”

“So azhagan is Tamil,” Alejandro deduces, and once again, Noah resists the urge to slap his hand to his forehead. “I’m going to figure out what that means, you know.”

“You got any guesses?”

“Is it eel?”

“I like your thinking, but no. That’s vilāṅku mīṉ, which is a bit of a mouthful.”

“By that logic, cerebrito is a mouthful.”

“Maybe it is,” Noah says, “but I’m lazy.”

Alejandro laughs. “Oh, please. You’re a terrible liar.”

“Wasn’t exactly trying to lie.”

“Perhaps you were lazy during World Tour, but you’ve changed since then. Clearly, because if Owen had been carrying you this whole race, you wouldn’t have made it this far.”

“Hey, don’t underestimate Owen.”

“I won’t. As long as you don’t underestimate yourself.”

“You know, some people would argue that I have too much confidence,” Noah says, trying very hard to ignore the crush on Alejandro that’s making his stomach flip flop every which way. “Not sure it’s the smartest move to puff up my head.”

“Of course not. Your head is big enough already.”

“Rude.”

“Sorry, I couldn’t resist.”

“Alejandro!” someone yells, and Noah turns to see Courtney in the tea field, waving fistfuls of leaves in the air.

“I suppose that’s my cue to get to work,” Alejandro says. “And we’ll be beating you to the Chill Zone today!”

“Keep dreaming,” Noah calls after him. They’re both smiling.

After dragging Owen into a row of bushes, Noah begins tossing fistful after fistful of leaves into his basket. His teammate is trying his best, but Owen’s practically melting into the ground.

“So… hot…”

“I know, big guy.”

Despite the heat, it’s only another twenty minutes until both of the Pros’ baskets are three-quarters of the way full. And another five minutes after that when Jacques strolls up to them.

“Oh, hello—”

“No,” Noah says immediately. “I’m not engaging in whatever scheme you’ve got going on.”

“Zhere is no scheme—”

“Then where’s Jessie?”

“You mean Josee,” Jacques says.

“Whatever you say, James.”

Owen gasps. “Oh, like Team Rocket from Pokémon!”

“Ah, zat is very clever!” Jacques says. “You’re so clever, Noah.”

“Clever enough to know you’re up to something.”

“I suppose I cannot blame you for zinking zat, after yesterday. But I wanted to apologize! I had no idea Josee was going to steal your ball.”

“Right, just like how you had nothing to do with stealing the Goths’ rabbit in Mexico.”

“How did you know about zat?” Jacques asks. “I mean—”

“Go away.”

“Ach, fine.”

“You sure he wasn’t just apologizing?” Owen asks Noah.

“No way. He’s crafty,” Noah says, tossing another handful of leaves into his basket and twisting around. “Is that about full, or—huh?”

At his exclamation, the Pros yank off their baskets, only to find the bottom hatches open, and the tea leaves gone.

“Ugh! I knew Jessie was up to something!”

“Josee,” Owen corrects, wiping his very, very sweaty brow. “What do we do now?”

Noah groans, hooking the hatch of his basket closed. “Start over, I guess.”

“I guess so.”

They pluck leaves in silence for a minute, before Owen asks, “So when are you gonna ask out Alejandro?”

“We’re not having this conversation.”

“Oh, come on! Watching you guys flirt is cute, but it’s also a little painful.”

“I—we don’t flirt.”

“You do, Noah. You really do.”

“Mutual flirting would imply he’s interested, which he’s not.”

Owen rolls his eyes. “You’ve gotta be kidding me. Kitty and I figured out that he liked you way before we knew you liked him!”

“…Are you serious?”

“I picked up on it in New Zealand.”

“There’s no way he likes me back,” Noah says. “No way.”

“I could ask him for you.”

“Do not.”

“Then ask him yourself!”

“Also no. Would you please stop pestering me about it?”

Owen sighs. “Sorry. I just want you to be happy.”

“I’m doing just fine.”

“Well, sure, but I think Alejandro could make you happier.”

“Because according to you, he likes me.”

“He does,” Owen says, “but I promise to drop it if you promise to shoot your shot eventually.”

Noah wrinkles his nose. “Not while we’re on the show. Reality TV romance only leads to disaster.”

“So ask him out once we get eliminated.”

“What if we never get eliminated, and win the show?”

“Then either way, you get half a million dollars or a smoking hot—”

“I told you not to say smoking hot.”

“—boyfriend,” Owen finishes. “It’s a win-win!”

“I don’t know if that’s what I’d call it. More like ‘really good motivation to not get eliminated’.”

“Oh no, you’ve uncovered my master plan!”

Noah laughs.

They’re the final team to complete the All-In, and they just barely make it onto the last car of the train before it leaves the station. As soon as Don gives the go-ahead for teams to start making their way to the first train car, Noah opens the door.

“Okay, I know we’re in last place, but we’ve still got a chance,” he says. “I dunno what kinda animal is in that car, but how about I hop on your shoulders, and you don’t stop running until we’re at the front?” 

Owen lets Noah clamber onto his shoulder. “Sounds good to me. Chaaarge!”

It’s actually a decent strategy, Noah finds, as they manage to barrel through the first animal car so quickly that neither of them gets even a glimpse at the beast it houses. The passenger car in front of it is empty, so the Pros ready themselves for another round of Operation Bowling Ball. They nearly get pecked to death by chickens, and in their attempt to run into the next passenger car, Owen runs smack dab into another competitor—which sends Noah flying through the air.

“Auuuugh!”

“I’ve got you!” someone calls, and a hand reaches out and grabs Noah’s wrist. In one strong movement, Noah finds himself being yanked up to the roof of the train car by—

“Alejandro?”

“Flying a bit too close to the sun, weren’t you, Icarus?” Alejandro says cheekily. He’s gone back to standing on his legs.

Noah gapes at him. “Did you just save me from falling off of and/or being crushed by a moving train and immediately reference Greek mythology?”

“Yes.”

“You’re a wonder.”

Alejandro’s face lights up at that, and if the notion weren’t so ridiculous, Noah might think Owen was right about Alejandro liking him back.

“So,” Noah says, “what exactly are you doing up here?”

“I thought it might be easier to go over the cars than through them, seeing as I’ve done something similar before. Except that time, I was tangoing in a hailstorm.”

“Oh, so this is a walk in the park.”

“Exactly! Courtney doesn’t seem to agree, however.” 

“I dunno, this seems a lot less risky than dealing with those chickens.”

“It has to be,” Alejandro says, gesturing toward a few train cars in front of him. “The Sisters are also going over, and Emma doesn’t seem the type to take unnecessary risks.”

“Most of the time, yeah, but she’s gotta be repressing a wild side. Did you hear those stories about her doing parkour?”

“Ha! I completely forgot about that.”

By now, they’ve managed to inch their way to the end of the third passenger car and, peering down, can see Owen and Courtney staring up at them.

“Hi Noah!” Owen shouts.

“I still think that’s a terrible idea!” Courtney calls.

“It’s working out just fine for us,” Alejandro yells back. “Race you to the first car?”

“You’re on!”

“Do I need to come up there?” Owen asks.

He’s frowning at the thought, so Noah says, “Nah, we can manage! I’ll meet you at the front of the train!”

“See you there, little buddy!” 

And Owen gives the most blatant, exaggerated wink Noah has ever seen.

As he and Courtney disappear into the next animal car—out of which comes muffled sounds of violence—Noah readies himself to jump to the roof. 

Beside him, Alejandro does the same.

“You wanna go first, or should I?”

“Might be safer to do it together,” Alejandro says, holding out his hand. 

Noah stares at him.

“Or not, or we can—”

“No! No, jumping together is probably the best—safest—yeah, let’s do that.”

He takes Alejandro’s hand. Is this really happening?

“On three,” Alejandro says, squeezing Noah’s hand slightly, and Noah would like combust on the spot, actually. “One, two, three!”

They leap together, and there’s that brief, breathless sensation that comes when flying through the air whilst doing something very stupid, before Noah’s feet are clomping down on the roof. His hand—the one intertwined with Alejandro’s—jerks to the side, and Noah turns to find Alejandro slipping backwards off the side of the car.

“Whoa!” 

Darting forward, Noah grabs at him, managing to get his arms around Alejandro’s waist before he can fall off completely. He tugs him back securely onto the roof.

“Careful, azhagan,” Noah says breathlessly. “You almost dropped something.”

Green eyes wide, lips ever so slightly parted, Alejandro stares at him.

And then he cups Noah’s face and pulls him into a kiss.

The wind is blowing their hair all over the place, Alejandro’s hands are sweaty, and Noah’s certain his lips are horribly chapped.

It’s incredible.

Slowly, Alejandro pulls away from Noah, still cradling his face in his hands.

“Hi,” he says quietly.

“Hi,” Noah says. “I can’t believe you like me back.”

“Are you kidding? You’re witty, you’re perceptive, you look adorable in a beanie—”

“Oh my God. Was Owen right about you flirting with me, way back on World Tour?”

“Maybe a little.”

Noah laughs, leaning against Alejandro’s chest. “Well, damn. What do we do now?”

“As much as I would love to kiss you again, we are still in a competition.”

“Oh, yeah. That. Uh, how about we go through the rest of the cars?”

“That’s probably a good idea.”

Still holding hands (which Noah is still screaming about on the inside, though that’s been eclipsed by the much louder internal screaming over the kiss) Noah and Alejandro shuffle their way across the roof, climbing down once they reach the end. They make it through the passenger cart unscathed, and then brace themselves for the final animal car, before Noah realizes that something is… off.

“Is it just me, or has the train stopped moving?”

Alejandro blinks. “Fuck.”

They hop down, and make a run for it.

Noah wouldn’t call himself fast by any means, and pre-volcano, he easily would’ve been outpaced by Alejandro. Now, however, the two run at an even pace. It’s hard to tell if that’s saying something about Noah’s deep lack of athleticism or Alejandro’s injuries. Both, probably. But still…

“You wanna go on a date after the race?” 

Alejandro furrows his brow. “Absolutely, but you’re asking me this now?” 

“Yeah,” Noah wheezes. He is so not built for running. “I figured you’d feel weird about asking me after you knock me out of the competition.”

“What?”

Noah gestures to the Chill Zone, where Owen and Courtney stand anxiously, waiting. “Only one of us is getting saved from elimination today.”

“If you’re so certain it won’t be you, then why are you even trying?”

“Because you like competing against me. And I like competing against you. Even when I know it’s hopeless.”

“I feel like a journalist, with how many questions I’m asking, but I’ll persist. What are you trying to say?”

“You beating me isn’t going to change how I feel about you. So how about you stop holding back?”

“It’s a shame I can’t kiss you right now,” Alejandro says, and in one smooth move, flips forward onto his hands and speeds further ahead on them. 

Watching him, Noah smiles. 

“Best Friends, you’re in fourth place!” Don announces. And then, a few seconds later, “Noah, I’m sorry, but you’re the last to make it to the Chill Zone. Reality TV Pros, you’ve been eliminated.”

Owen slumps over. “Aw, man.”

“I’m sorry, big guy,” Noah says. Because yeah, it’s the truth. He’s sorry that it came down to him and a competitor he couldn’t beat, he’s sorry he’ll no longer be making crazy memories with his best friend, he’s sorry there’s no longer a chance of them winning the million, and as painful and obnoxious as it’s been, he’s sorry that this crazy adventure has come to an end for them.

“Aww, we’re gonna miss you guys!” Kitty dashes forward and pulls both of them into a hug. “Airport Alliance forever!”

“In spirit, not in terms of splitting any prize money,” Emma says. It would sound colder if she wasn’t also squeezing her way into their group hug.

When they finally separate, the Cadets come over to shake their hands, as does Courtney.

“See you at the finale,” she says. “Have fun watching me win.”

“I think you mean, have fun watching me win,” Emma says. “Wait, how do you know they’ll be back for the finale?”

“It’s reality television. We always get brought back for the finale,” Noah says. 

Someone taps him on the shoulder, and he turns to find Alejandro, back on his two feet.

“Hey,” Noah says. “Good luck with the rest of the race. And for the love of God, take care of your legs, will you?”

“I’ll take care of my legs, you take care of planning our first date,” Alejandro replies.

“What,” Owen says.

“Sounds like a deal to me.” And because he’s the kind of guy that takes action now, Noah leans in for another kiss.

“WHAT,” Kitty says.

They break apart much sooner than Noah would like if it was just the two of them there, but considering everyone is staring at them, he’ll settle for a chaste kiss.

“You either saw that coming from a mile away, or you just got totally blindsided,” Don tells the camera. “There’s no in between.”

Courtney looks like she can’t decide whether to celebrate or start demanding answers.

“Who will survive the next set of challenges? The only way to find out is to keep watching... The Ridonculous Race.”

Then the camera crew begins to pack up, and the Pros start being ushered away to… wherever the losers go each elimination. 

“See you soon,” Alejandro presses one last kiss to Noah’s cheek, “guapo.”

“You gonna tell me what that means?”

“Handsome.”

“…Did you figure out what azhagan—”

“I might’ve asked a local, yes.”

Noah laughs.

And then is promptly grabbed by Kitty, who squeals, takes a deep breath, and says, “Okay, you totally owe me an explanation, and also dinner with your mom and sisters. We will be collecting on that, by the way, because we can’t not stay friends after the race. All of us are gonna hang. It’ll be great.”

“I look forward to it,” Noah says. “After the longest nap of my life.”

“Oh God, sleeping in my own bed for as long as I want sounds incredible. Can I get eliminated?”

“Absolutely not,” Emma says. And Noah’s never thought of her as the touchy-feely type, but she pulls him into a tight hug. 

“Wow, you could rival Owen with that grip.”

“Shut up,” she mumbles into his ear. “You’re kinda one of the best friends I’ve ever had. That’s not going to change after the race, is it?”

“No way. ‘Cause you’re not too bad yourself. Plus, Owen and I will need a good lawyer when we sue seventeen different reality show hosts for physical and emotional damage.”

Emma snorts. “Get out of here, you dork.”

And then he and Owen are being driven off to record some kind of outro for their elimination.

When they’re finally alone—well, in the back seat of a crew car, which is just about as alone as they can get on reality TV—Owen turns to Noah and says, “Dude.”

“I know.”

“How did that happen? With Alejandro? I was gone for, like, thirty minutes!”

“I’ll tell you about it tomorrow,” Noah promises. “Just kind of processing a lot right now.”

“All good, little buddy! I’m happy for you—and I was so right.”

“You were, you were. Sorry I kinda made us lose out on the money, though.”

Owen snorts. “If you think I’ve been doing these shows for the money, then you’re not nearly as smart as you look.”

“Oh?”

“I do them to spend time with you in the wackiest ways possible! Like, yeah, the money would be nice, but the memories we made here? Air guitar in Finland, human squeegeeing in Dubai, making out with a Komodo dragon—”

“Those all seem like they count as traumatizing experiences.”

“In the moment, yeah, but they’re so fun to look back on!”

Noah grins. “I’m definitely gonna laugh remembering coffin-sledding in Transylvania. And yeah. It’s been great doing this with you, big guy.”

“Aww, c’mere!” Owen wraps him in a hug. “So, what show do you want to do next?”

“Ask me after I sleep for a week.”

Chapter Text

“You’re mad at me,” Alejandro says.

Looking up from her magazine, Courtney frowns. “I’m not mad at you.”

“You’ve barely spoken to me since the challenge.”

“It was hot. I was tired.”

“You haven’t said one word to me since we boarded this flight.”

“It’s still hot, and I’m still tired.”

Alejandro sighs. Part of him is still reeling from kissing Noah, then directly participating in Noah’s elimination, then kissing Noah again. But his competitive side is carefully packing everything surrounding that experience into a little box, only to be opened when he’s done with the race. He can’t be getting distracted about his new boyfriend (!!!) when there’s still a million dollars that has yet to be won. Even now, Alejandro can feel a goofy grin forming at the thought of Noah, and he quickly tamps it down. After.

The more pressing issue at hand is whatever’s going on with Courtney. Alejandro loves his best friend, but he’s getting a little sick of regulating her emotional turmoil. Their confrontation in Russia had been upsetting, but necessary. And he’d thought they were doing much better. Courtney hadn’t seemed overly agitated during the challenge in India, even when they’d nearly faced elimination. But ever since the Reality TV Pros had been escorted from the show, and the remaining eight contestants had rushed to shower and eat before catching a nine pm flight to Argentina, Courtney has been quiet and brooding. 

It could be the endless travel and exhausting challenges have finally worn his best friend down, but it’s more than that. Alejandro can tell. And seeing as this twenty-one hour flight is the only time they’ll have to settle whatever’s going on before they’re scrambling to complete the next challenge, they might as well settle it.

“You’re not fooling me or yourself, so talk to me,” Alejandro says. “You’re angry. Why?”

“…I’d rather not say.”

“Is it because of me and Noah? Because if you’re mad I didn’t tell you I liked him, I’m sorry. I thought it might bother you and I didn’t want to throw off our game when I’d initially planned not to act on those feelings. And if you’re mad I’m dating him, I promise you, this isn’t going to weaken our friendship. I won’t let it. You mean a lot to me, Courtney. You’ve been there for me in ways nobody else has. Not my family, not my past partners—nobody. Noah… I like him. A lot. But you’ve been my friend for much longer, and if it came down to it, I would choose you.”

“Alejandro—” Courtney rubs her eyes, masking impending tears with a gesture of sleepiness. “That’s, ah. That’s really good to hear, actually. And I was a little miffed you didn’t say anything about him to me, but mostly worried. You know how I feel about dating on reality TV. But it’s your life, and if Noah makes you happy, then I’m gonna support that.”

Alejandro has to lean over and hug her at that. “How very sweet of you.”

She hugs him back.

“But I hope this wasn’t a ploy to distract me from the real matter at hand.”

“How was that a ploy?” Courtney complains. “You started the sappy stuff.”

“That I did. But you never answered my question. If it’s not the Noah thing, then why are you upset?”

“…You’ve barely been able to walk today.”

“I was fine at the beginning of the challenge,” Alejandro protests. “Jumping across train cars just… made more of an impact than I thought it would. And I’m fine walking on my hands, the costume crew let me keep the gloves—”

“That’s not sustainable for the rest of the race—”

“It’s fine, we’ve only got a few more days of filming left, and I did most of All Stars on my hands—”

“Because Chris had people shoving pills down your throat left and right!”

“So what?” Alejandro retorts. Sure, he’s been taking pain medication like clockwork the last week, but just enough to get him through the competition. “I told you, I can handle this.”

Courtney sighs. “I’m not mad at you for being hurt, Alejandro. I’m just mad you’re lying about it.”

“I’m not lying to you!”

“To yourself, then.”

“Courtney—”

“If you change your mind—”

“I’m not going to,” Alejandro says. 

Because he’s Alejandro Burromuerto. He’s a genius, a charmer, a terror to the competition. And he’s not losing to buddy cops, bronze-rate saboteurs, or reality show novices due to his dysfunctional legs. The defects of which aren’t even his fault! And if Chris McLean, if José, if anyone thinks he’ll be rendered immobile, surrender, crawl into a hole to lick his wounds, then they’re as wrong as Alejandro is brilliant. Courtney’s not the only one who has something to prove on this show. 

“I can do this.”

Kitty gets a reprieve long enough to shower, change, and hop on the flight to Argentina before Emma finally says, “Okay, with the Pros gone, we need to strategize.”

“Too soon,” Kitty complains. She’s already bummed that she doesn’t have Owen or Noah to talk to on the longest flight of her life. Especially since she’s gotta know what the heck happened with Noah and Alejandro—hey, the latter is actually on the plane, so she might be able to needle him for details…

“We need to use every minute we can get to figure out how we’re going to win this thing.”

“Do you really think we need twenty hours?”

“No, but I’ll be trying to sleep through half of this flight, so…”

Kitty laughs. “Me too. Today was crazy. I can’t believe you jumped on top of a moving train!”

“It was what we had to do to place second, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah, but you loved it!”

“Maybe,” Emma admits with a grin, and Kitty fondly shakes her head at her sister’s wild side. She’d only recently found out about Emma’s short-lived parkour hobby, back when she was fifteen and Kitty was twelve. And Emma gave her flack for blindfolded tobogganing!

“If we win the million, will you go skydiving with me?”

“Fuck no.”

“Aww, how come?”

Emma gives her a long look.

“…Ohhh. Right. Fear of falling. Gotcha, no skydiving. But will you do something else fun and crazy that doesn’t involve heights?”

“If we win the million. Which will only happen if we strategize.”

“Cool,” Kitty says. “I’m holding you to that, though!”

“Fine, fine. So. We’re down an alliance, and down to the final four. After that train stunt the Ice Dancers pulled, I think the Axis of Evil is dissolved for good.”

“I’m honestly surprised it existed in the first place.”

“It was never going to last. But what I’m getting at is: we’re on even playing ground, now that there are no alliances left in the game.”

“Which means we should make the ground uneven!” Kitty deduces. “I think we could talk the Best Friends into an alliance—”

“No!”

“…Wow, Emma, tell me how you really feel.”

Emma rolls her eyes.

“Seriously, though, it’s not a bad plan. Alejandro and I are pretty much friends at this point, I think, and we’ve all worked well together in the past! If we can convince them—”

“We can’t,” Emma says. “I already tried to get them to join the Airport Alliance back in Russia, and Courtney was quite adamant about not allying with other teams.”

“How adamant?”

“She said she’d rather openly distrust opposing teams than pretend she doesn’t.”

“Yowza. To be fair, you would’ve said the same thing a few weeks ago.”

“True. But I really don’t think allying with the Best Friends is a good idea. You saw how vicious they got when we tried to boomerang them.”

“When you tried to boomerang them,” Kitty corrects, “and yeah, they got scary. I bet they could destroy the Ice Dancers if they unleashed their full power.”

“I’d pay to watch that.”

“Everyone here would, I think.”

At that, Emma gets a gleam in her eye. “Hey, yeah, nobody likes the Ice Dancers. What if that’s our play? We form a truce with the other teams and all work together to get them kicked off?”

“As tempting as that is, no.”

“Why not?”

“Because we’re better than that,” Kitty says. “I’m better than that.”

She knows she is. As nasty as the Ice Dancers are, Kitty isn’t going to stoop to their level. She isn’t going to prove Courtney right, she’s not going to let reality television twist her into a worse person. Kitty is kind, and she’s staying kind, no matter how hard she has to claw to keep that kindness.

Plus, karma will totally catch up to the Ice Dancers. And Kitty will be watching with popcorn when it does.

Much to Alejandro’s relief, Courtney doesn’t press the leg issue further, opting to return to her magazine. Her leg bounces as the Sisters’ hushed voices briefly increase in volume before quieting again. Alejandro hears something that sounds like a “No!” from Emma, but not much else.

The exhausting challenge, evening flight, and the stabbing feeling in Alejandro’s legs being dulled to a throb with another round of medication means that sleep comes swiftly. 

He wakes up to a soft thump!

Blinking blearily, his gaze comes into focus to find Kitty… cartwheeling toward him.

“What are you doing?”

Landing nearly on her feet, Kitty puts a finger to her lips, gesturing around the cabin. Every other fellow competitor is fast asleep.

“What are you doing?” Alejandro whispers.

“I’ve always wanted to cartwheel from one end of an airplane to another,” Kitty says, “and since everyone’s asleep and the flight attendants aren’t out and about, I figured I might as well give it a go.”

“Huh.”

“So, how’re you doing?”

“I’m fine.”

“…Ohhh-kay.”

“Sorry,” Alejandro says. “I don’t think I’ve slept enough.”

Actually, he’s on edge after that conversation with Courtney, and as much as he finds Kitty to be harmless, he isn’t going to show weakness to anyone when they’re still in a competition for a million dollars. And it isn’t completely a lie—Alejandro is tired.

“It’s all good. I didn’t wake you up, did I?”

“No, no, you’re fine. Please, continue your cartwheels. I won’t tell anyone.”

“Oh, I’d much rather hear about how the heck you and Noah managed to get together! Owen and I have been trying to matchmake for days—”

“You what now?”

“—and you somehow got together while fighting through a train full of animals?”

“Technically, we got together on the roof of the train. Which can be a romantic atmosphere in the strangest of times, at least in my experience.”

“I have so many questions.”

“I’ll answer them after the race. Right now, I need to stay focused.”

“You sound like Emma,” Kitty complains.

“Everything alright between you two?” Alejandro asks. Admittedly he’s a little surprised to find himself hoping that the Sisters are getting along, rather than winding up to pounce on any visible weakness. But only a little. “I overheard Emma being loudly opposed to… something earlier.”

“Oh, uh, yeah! I mean, we’ve got differing opinions on how to proceed, like, strategy-wise, and I’m not gonna tell you what they are ‘cause we are in a competition and all that, but it’s nothing too bad. Had a little disagreement about using that boomerang earlier—obviously—but I think we’re past it.”

“That’s good to hear. You two certainly seem more harmonious.”

“Oooh, pulling out the dictionary there! But yeah, we’re getting… a lot better. It’s great. It’s really great.”

Ignoring the twinge of jealousy—deep down, Alejandro knows he’ll never have a decent relationship with José, no matter what he wishes—Alejandro smiles at her. “I’m happy for you.”

“Thanks,” Kitty says, leaning over to pat his shoulder. “Now you get some sleep, okay? You look like you’re about to pass out.”

“I’m fine.”

“Goodnight, Alejandro.”

“…Goodnight.”

So Alejandro sleeps until the cabin is awash in light once more, and a flight attendant is passing out breakfast. His entire body aches. Which he’ll blame on the plane seats, if anybody comments on it.

“You ready for this?” he asks Courtney.

She stretches out her arms. “As I’ll ever be.”

The unspoken question of whether Alejandro is ready hangs heavy in the air between them.

“Tangoing can’t be too hard, right?” Kitty says.

“I don’t like that it’s a dance challenge.” Emma glares out the window of their taxi. “Not when we’re facing the Ice Dancers.”

“Okay, true, they totally have an unfair advantage, but that doesn’t mean we still can’t rock this! We’re decent dancers.”

“I’m not sure decent is going to be enough this late in the competition.”

“What, you think the Police Cadets are gonna do any better?”

Emma snickers. “Probably not.”

Personally, Kitty thinks this challenge will be a breeze. She used to practice dancing with Emma all the time when her sister was getting ready for her senior prom. Sure, no guys asked her out, but that just meant Kitty got to go with Emma and they had a great time! Nothing was cooler to ninth grade Kitty than attending the cool senior prom with her cool older sister. It was awesome!

She’s starting to think Emma has a significantly less fond memory of that night, when Kitty expresses this to the camera, only to be reprimanded.

“What?” Kitty asks, as the Cadets take their turn tangoing. “We still had fun!”

“It’s embarrassing.”

“Oh, come on, you’ve been out of high school for, like, three years. You’re not seriously still hung up on that kinda stuff, right?”

Emma huffs. And Kitty frowns, because—well, she’s just graduated high school, and her few memories that are worse than being crazily bored in class have already begun to fade away. Why would Emma still care about what some randos at prom think?

When the camera crew filming them flocks to the Cadets just in time to catch Sanders dropping MacArthur, Emma mutters, “It’s not that.”