Another sweltering day, another daring getaway, and it turned out the rope charmer had moved his operations across the street. So when Aladdin skidded around the corner on well-heeled bare feet with the Royal Guard gnashing his dust, he was abruptly greeted with the reality of no obvious getaway. 

He whipped around in alarm, and saw the sour smile slowly worm its way across the charmer’s face. The man's nasty expression widened as he allowed his levitating rope to slither back to earth beside him in a coiled, lifeless pile. A gibbered screech made Aladdin wince. “Abu!” He was so used to having his simian companion close at hand that he had almost forgotten the monkey was perched on his shoulder. But there was no time to tell his partner to lower his voice—not when the Sultan’s guards were bearing down on them and all anticipated routes of escape were closed. 

But Aladdin was as good at improvising as he was at understanding monkey. He snatched up the rope as Abu leapt from his shoulder and shoved the turban down the charmer’s head. The man’s sputtered curses and wildly-flung flute followed them as they sprinted for the alley. 

“That’s a dead end!” the captain roared behind them. “Foolish street rat! We’ve got him cornered now!” 

“How many times do we hear that in a week?” Aladdin remarked. Abu was already back on his shoulder, and the monkey chittered in professional agreement. The pockets of his vest bulged with gemstones: the blood rubies paid to the charmer to buy their freedom. “Nice one, Abu!” 

High-fives were in short supply as Aladdin worked quickly to form a loop on one end of the rope. He yanked it tight once, and prayed to whatever Wali watched over street rats like him that his knot was true. He whipped the lasso back and flung it far from him, catching it on an overhanging bit of wood. He took a running leap and let the momentum propel them up... up... 

“No!” Razoul bellowed his defeat beneath them and rattled his saber at the sky as Aladdin and Abu swung to freedom. Aladdin stopped to throw a grin back over the roof to rival the captain’s gleaming blade. 

“Maybe next time!” he called to guards. “No need to get discouraged!” He hefted the rope in one hand, then cast it back down to the quietly smoldering charmer below. No need to take the man’s livelihood with them... not all of it, anyway. 

He was a thief, after all. And a thief he was certain to remain until his dying day. Maybe—just maybe—he could keep outrunning that appointment for a while longer.

Rare and beautiful things passed through the markets of Agrabah all the time, often bristling with sabers to dissuade thieves like him, or disguised as dusted-up detritus left out in the open. But there was no disguising the breath-faltering beauty of the girl gazing up at him from the street below. 

Up until this point Aladdin had been lounging undisturbed in a shop canopy, turning the rope charmer’s clay flute over in his curious hands. It wasn’t crudely made like the ones he had fashioned in his youth, back when a kind-hearted ceramist had taken pity on a toyless orphan and given him the raw material he had to spare; this flute was expertly crafted, symmetrical, every hole notched equidistant from the last. It had taken only a few blows into the reed to reacquaint himself with how it was done; then he had begun to compose a tuneful melody that seemed to flow beneath the market activity like an unacknowledged current. 

But she had heard him. She shaded her eyes with a slender palm. Aladdin had to wonder if she could see him at all beneath the deep shadows cut across him. The tune faltered on his lips. A sentimental smile hitched up hers, then she turned away, distracted by a young ragamuffin loitering at the stall across from her. Aladdin craned to look, slipping the flute back into his pocket. 

Events unfolded quickly after that. An apple was gifted, words exchanged, a sword raised. He inserted himself before he knew what he was doing. He stopped the fruit seller's thick wrist in its downswing, liberated the sword, and assured a hand's continuing attachment to the woman who wielded it so charitably. Then, Aladdin opened his mouth. He made them all passengers to the lies that spilled forth effortlessly. The girl played the part he cast her in, and was so convincing as he maneuvered her, doll-eyed, out of harm’s way, that he momentarily wondered if she really was as naïve as she made out... maybe she wasn’t certifiable, but how could someone so openly steal an apple without a thought or seeming foreknowledge of the consequences? 

Abu’s covetousness ultimately blew their cover, and Aladdin was forced to grab the girl’s hand and run for it, their two pairs of feet pelting together along Agrabah’s byways. When they finally stopped to catch their breath between gales of laughter, he realized he was still holding her hand. He released it quickly. He removed his fez and ran a hand sheepishly through his tangled black locks. “Sorry about that. Farouk can be... a bit blood-thirsty.” Of all the market vendors to mess with, the fruit seller was probably the worst. There were notches permanently crosshatched into Farouk’s cart marking the number of times he had successfully apprehended thieves. Aladdin was just glad this girl hadn't wound up another statistic. 

“You’re not from around here, are you?” He replaced his hat and sized her up critically. These were the streets that had raised him, and they seemed as unfamiliar with her as she was with them. Travelers came and went, but where was her luggage if she was only visiting? It was a perilous journey across the desert sands, even to the nearest settlement... or so he had always heard, anyway. 

“I know you’ve managed to keep both your hands so far, but if you want, I could lend you another.” 

It wasn’t his best line. Abu rolled his eyes with a throaty, disapproving sigh. Aladdin ignored him. In fact, he ignored him so effectively he held his smile as he tipped an empty hand basket over the monkey and banished him from the conversation completely. Let Abu count his pocketful of crumbs and mutter alone to himself.  

The humans were talking.

... COULD FALL AND FALL HARD