A/N: Yay! People like my story! Well, a few people! And yes, sorry if I make Chad a little too goofy in this one, and I'm not stereotyping that all French people hate Chad Dylan Cooper. And yes, my French is horrible. I just threw together a few words that I know in French. S'amuser! (enjoy in French. I think. XD) And the really long, complicated sounding things.. were taken from the Bing translator, not my own knowledge.

Disclaimer: I own nothing, sadly.. And I forgot to put these for the last three chapters. Sorry!

Chappie Numero Tres!

Chad's POV

"So, Sonny, where is this challenge at?" I asked.

"Hmm.." she examined the clue. "It's at this cafe called 'Le Petit Fromage'. The Little Cheese."

I laughed at the restaurant name. "'The Little Cheese'?"

She nodded, laughing. "Kay, let's get a cab."

I waved over a taxi and we got in, although before I knew it, a short, very French cab driver was striking up conversation with Sonny and I.

"Oh, L'étoile de télévision américaine, Chad Dylan Cooper!" he spoke with a thick accent.

I looked at my translator on my phone, making sure my answer wasn't stupid. The American television star. Oh, psh, yeah!

"Yes," I replied confidently. "Yes, I am, and by the way, we're headed to the cafe, Le Petit Fromage."

"Oh," his happy tone dropped. "Je vous déteste."

I entered that into the translator. What? I hate you? How could he?!

"Well," I angrily replied. "I got a thing or two to say to y-"

"Chad," Sonny whisper-shouted. "Don't start getting on the bad side of people today!"

"Sorrryyy." I whined. "It's not like it's my fault that the short French dude is hatin' on CDC."

"Vous savez, j'entends vous chamailleries amour oiseaux y!" he angrily muttered under his breath.

You know, I can hear you bickering love birds back there. What?!

"Nous ne sont pas les oiseaux de l'amour!" I shouted back. We are NOT love birds!

Great. Now I'm having a French fight with a taxi driver. How low can I stoop?

"Est-ce trop!" he shouted. Are too!

"Ne pas!" I shouted back. Are not!

"Que ce soit, célébrité stupide, ici vous êtes sur le petit fromage." Whatever, stupid celebrity, here you are at 'Le Petit Fromage'.

I paid the guy his money, in US dollars, and Sonny and I were off before he could tell me to give him his money in Francs or Euros.

"Bonjour, stupide chauffeur de taxi." I mumbled.

Sonny smiled. "I can see the headlines now," she started to say. "'Chad Dylan Cooper gets in a fight with a French taxi driver.'"

I chuckled. "He's the one who started it!"

We walked into the door of the small cafe. It was very quaint, but quite beautiful. I went towards the table in the back of the room. I read the challenge card.

You're in a cafe, filled with delicious food. Bet you're hungry, huh? Which one of you LOVES cooking?

"Sonny, you like cooking?"

"Oh," she smiled. "Besides comedy, cooking is one of my favorite things to do."

I read the rest of the clue. Whoever loves it more is the audience for today, while the other is the cook! You can make any possible meal, but only with the ingredients found in Le Petit Fromage... good luck!

Crap. "Sonny, it says I have to cook."

"And..?"

"I can't cook. Wanna switch?" I deviously smiled.

Sonny's POV

I pointed to the chef sitting in the corner.

"She can tell if we cheat," I said. "So, no."

"Okay, whatever," he rolled his eyes. "have fun watching me burn this place down."

I laughed. "Wait," I wondered outloud. "how many clues are there?"

He looked over at the table. "Nine. Well, ten, including ours."

"Well, at least you can take your time. We're the first ones here."

Chad walked into the kitchen and rummaged around in the refridgerator and cabinets. "What about two turkey sandwiches?"

"Eh, not bad. It technically is a meal."

"Chef Chad to the rescue then!" he laughed, starting to make the sandwiches.

I hadn't ever seen this goofy side of Chad before. He was always so... serious. I was actually starting to like him. But no, not the way you think. As a friend. And only a friend. Still no romantic feelings for him. At all.

He took four slices of wheat bread, some turkey, mayonnaise, and cheddar cheese, and put them together. I smiled, probably the other teams would think 'meal' meant, all fancy French, with a side and drink.

He took the food over to the chef, and she handed the blonde haired, three-named boy the next clue. He began to read it outloud as he walked towards me, plates still in hand.

"You are the very first team to finish your Roadblock challenge, and have the power to Yield another team, causing them to have to stay here for an extra thirty minutes after they finish the Roadblock. Please write the name of the team you choose on the Yield sign, and write your names at the bottom. However, for you kinder teams, Yielding is optional. After this, proceed to the 'Eiffel Tower' for your next task, a Detour." A list below showed us the names of all of the teams.

"I don't know about this, Chad." I sighed. "It seems mean to yield someone."

"But Sonny," he argued. "Selena Gomez is a big competitor! And remember, she was trying to set us up with eachother! And her partner is Miley Cyrus!"

"I still don't-" I started.

"Sonny, it gives us an advantage," he said, seriously. "And you do want to win, right?"

"Fine, fine," I gave up. It's not like I was going to win this argument. We wrote their names on the sign and ours at the bottom. They were going to hate, and I mean hate us for this.

Chad's POV

As we walked away from Le Petit Fromage, I watched a cab pull up, and out of it walked out Selena and Miley. I began to ran.

"Slow down!" yelled Sonny. "I can't run that fast!"

I waited up for her, and we began our journey towards the Eiffel Tower, the large monument looming over the background of the city. It wasn't that far from here, I could tell. After about ten more minutes of walking, I watched Sonny run towards the sign holding the 'Detour.' What was a detour anyway? I've never watched this show before. I thought it was stupid.

Sonny began reading the challenge. "You have two choices, to either climb to the highest observation deck of the Eiffel Tower and take pictures (for proof) then walk all the way down (the camera will be given to you at the top), or to go to the bike shop across the street, one of the largest in the world, and find a certain bike. It is your choice."

"Let's do the Eiffel tower one. It can't be that far up there, right?"

And with that, we embarked on our journey to the highest visitor-accessable point of the Eiffel Tower.

*about.. 1 hour later*

I walked down the last step of the never-ending spiral that the French called a 'staircase'. Sonny was right behind me, out of breath.

"Geez," she gasped. "That was crazy."

"Yeah." I agreed. "But some view up there, huh?"

She nodded in agreement, and smiled.

I looked at the clue we had gotten at the top. It read..

Lemme guess, your extremely tired, huh? Well, catch a ride to La Belle Vue, and check in, then it's time to relax and eat.

It showed the address below, and I once again translated the name. The Beautiful View.

We caught a cab, and I told the bored man the address, while I prayed that I wouldn't have to get into another French fight with a taxi driver.

~*~

Oh yeah! FRENCH FIGHT!

Soo.. DO YA WANNA CLICK EET!?

Ehh Noooh... NEVAR!

Fine. Then I shall.

*clicks*