Author's Note: I do not own the Total Drama franchise or any of its characters or locations. This is simply meant to be a birthday fanfiction to an amazing writer.

The couple that this story focuses on is that of Noah and Izzy. If you insist on canon works, get out of my fanfiction.

"Ezekiel? Are you in here, Zeke?"

Izzy's calls echoed in the storage compartment of the Total Drama Jumbo Jet, currently lit by a small, self-made torch held by the orange-haired girl. Hearing several unknown sounds from the area, it connected in her mind that the homeschooled one was to blame.

While a majority of the cast would agree that nothing entirely "connects" in the mind of Izzy, it seems that the rule book would be tossed out the window when connected to her fellow competitor, prior or no. However, it is not the subtlest technique when one's time is spent jumping up and down like a drunken kangaroo.

"I'm not sure that it's so subtle a search when you're jumping up and down like a drunken kangaroo."

Izzy turned. There stood Noah, an eyebrow raised, and a hand on his forehead.

"Turbulence is one thing, but treating a cargo hold like a trampoline somehow gives the whole thing a more disgusting and lurching feel to it. And I hate lurching and disgusting," the cynic continued, not bothering to look up.

"Well, if he's in here hiding under one of the loose floorboards, wouldn't a shock wave from the impact send him out?" Izzy asked, in the way that a child would ask why the sky is blue.

Noah's other hand slapped his forehead.

"Either way, I need to find Ezekiel and warn him about the current situations," Izzy explained, replacing her leaps with mere hops from one foot to the other.

"As in Mr. Latino-Loves-and-Leaves? I'm not sure even homeschool would need a pointer to know that Alejandro is about as evil as Harold is lucky with the ladies."

In the peanut gallery of the aftermath show, Harold twitched an eye.

"Well, he wouldn't be able to hear just how bad it's going from here, now can he?" Izzy retorted, double-taking at a crate.

"Did you consider thinking about the situation at hand? A situation in which you are in a highly flammable room of an already beaten-down plane, barely holding onto a lantern because you're insisting on leaping around like an idiot?" Noah asked, his voice filled with more venom than a stare from Heather.

"That's not the situation!"

"And why would that be?"

"Because I'm not holding onto the lantern anymore!"

Noah blinked, then averted his attention to the floor.

However, it was a bit difficult to call it the floor at the moment, seeing as it was nothing more than fire.

"Ah! You've set the entirety of the cargo hold on fire!" Noah yelped, leaping up in cartoonish style to a nearby box.

"Tell me something that isn't blatantly obvious!" Izzy responded, grabbing on to the ceiling.

Noah blinked again.

"Wait, did you just respond with a witty remark?" he managed to ask.

"We're under pressure. Why wouldn't I spend the opportunity to have a brief sparring session?" Izzy asked in her tone once again, though her smile was a bit sinister at the moment. Noah returned the favor.

"I never expected someone like you to have the guts to retaliate. If I wasn't holding on to this box, I'd be applauding you."

"It's all right. Marshmallow?"

Noah stared up. Izzy was holding a large, multi-ended stick, a bit of puffed sugar on each one.

"How did you… eh. I've learned it's better not to ask. Can you lob one down here?"

Izzy nodded, and tossed a marshmallow at Noah's face, unfortunately hitting him in the forehead. The sweet ricocheted off, entered the fire, and was transformed into ashes.

"Yeah… yeah, thanks," Noah muttered, still a tad perplexed by the stick.

There was a brief gap in the conversation, the only sound being provided by the crackling flames.

"Say, Izzy."

"Yes?"

"Quick question."

"Shoot."

"If a large portion of the plane has been set aflame, why hasn't the plane been sent down to the ground and hit in a great fiery explosion?"

"Well, a glance out the window says we're perfectly fine in the air at the moment."

Noah adjusted his point of vision. Indeed, the sky was unaffected, and nothing but the occasional cloud or seagull crossed it.

"Wait… there are windows here. What happens if it rains?"

Two seconds passed before a mighty torrent of rain swept through the windows, eliminating the fire. Two more seconds passed before it left.

"Well… that was convenient," Noah managed to mutter, crawling down from the crate.

There was no response.

"Izzy? You coming down here?"

"I fear that I have glued myself on to the ceiling," Izzy responded, attempting to move her fingers.

"Literally?"

"I may be a tad crazy, but I know when death is at my door!"

Noah sighed.

"Look, just drop down and I'll catch you."

"Are you sure about this?" Izzy asked, studying Noah's figure from a distance.

"Owen's sat on me before. I'm ready for anything that you can throw at me," Noah replied, smirking.

It was Izzy's turn to sighed. She did a few mental calculations, prayed to as many gods as she could think of, and let go.

She attempted to have her life flash before her eyes, but it was disrupted by a Looney Tunes cartoon. Noah was unsettled by her frantic laughing, to say the least.

As the cartoon ended, Izzy did what most people would do in this situation, which is yell and wave one's arms frantically, which she did long after Noah caught her. After the reaction, she saw Noah look down on her, one of his eyebrows raised.

"Come here often?" he quipped, letting her back to the somehow undamaged floor.

"Yay! Noah's the best!" Izzy cried, giving the cynic a massive hug and shoving her breasts in front of his face in the process.

"Um… Izzy, I can't breathe. Also, please get your breasts out of my eye sockets."

The hug ended.

"So that was fun! Wanna do it again?" Izzy asked, grinning wildly.

"Maybe in a few… hours. I think Chris is about to start another challenge soon, and our contracts are the most powerful objects on this show."

Izzy nodded in reply, and the two went out, holding hands for a few moments before Noah noticed and thrust his hand in the opposite direction.

The cargo hold was silent for a few moments, until a sniffing noise was heard.

"I think something's cooking, eh?"

Author's Note: My first one-shot in ages, and my first birthday fic? Pressure's on for me.

Anyways, this is meant to be a birthday present to the fantastic Janey1097. Do yourself a favor and read some of her stories; you won't be disappointed.

I thank you for reading, and I wish you a happy birthday, Jane.