Disclaimer: I don't own Disney or Justice League. I make no profit from my scribbles.

Warning: Mild profanities.

There won't be any talking monkeys or parrots in this story, so I've modified some of the characters to be human and slightly altered their relationships in the interest of the narrative.

Lex Luthor: Jafar

Flash Iago: Jafar's servant and an errand boy

Kal-El: The Sultan of Agrabah/Metropolis

Diana: Sultan's sister/Princess Jasmine

Shayera Hol: The Captain of the Metropolis Guard/Razoul

Al-Wayne: Aladdin

GL Abu: Aladdin's best friend

J'onn J'onzz: Genie of the Lamp

Louis Lane: Palace Physician

Chapter 1

"Man! This is the first and last time I'm cooperating with the Copperhead's gang! I knew we shouldn't have trusted that poison-fanged creep."

An arrow embedded itself into a wooden plank half an inch away from his head and GL Abu sharply turned into a twisted alley where the archers didn't have a clear leeway to shoot at them.

"We didn't," his tight lipped companion grunted in reply, knocking over a pile of orange crates they breezed by to delay the pursuers. They might have managed to lose half of the guards during the chase, however, this time they've pissed off the palace convoy as well as vizier's personal goons.

"I suppose not. Else we'd be hugging the dungeon rats by now." GL winced at the thought of being tossed into a stone well without fanfares.

Al-Wayne's tinkered devices and a perfectly executed backup plan may have gotten them out of the immediate danger, but this was no ordinary chase where a couple of law enforcers would half-heartedly follow the thieves before letting them be in favour of greater problems than a few stolen apples.

Normally, the pair had nothing to do with the dominant gangs. The friendship they shared was enough to sustain them and to keep them out of other alliances. They stole enough to get by with the basic necessities like food, leaving it up to the bigger groups to build grandiose plans. However, neither he nor Wayne were able to resist an offer where the successful outcome guaranteed to sustain a decent lifestyle at least for two years without stealing.

An informant brought a leaked information to Copperhead's ears that Vizier was transporting a part of his extensive treasury and there was a way to blend in with the convoy. This is where the snake-face figured that his regular cronies good for frontal assaults lacked in the brains department to pull it off and he appealed to the man who had a reputation for stealth and subtlety - Wayne.

Al was reluctant. Hell, they both were. In his usual mysterious manner, his friend disappeared for a full night to re-investigate the information, having no trust for sources other than himself. To GL's surprise, when he re-appeared Wayne agreed. And that's how they got sucked into this mess. Everything went smoothly according to plan with the two of them blending in with the Vizier's henchmen, while the Copperheads lurked around to provide backup. What they didn't count on was the palace convoy joining the ranks, which eventually led to their exposure and one hell of a chase. A handful of guards relentlessly followed him and Wayne into the slums where a trail of barking dogs disturbed by the commotion left a howling wake on their heels for the pursuers to follow.

In despair, Wayne kicked open one of the side doors. No one was home as the pair bolted through the house upstairs out onto the open balcony where they leaped over the railing of the next house and GL crashed heavily behind the railing that was shielded by carpets. Wayne crouched beside his companion, who was trying to catch his breath. A dark scowl marred Al's features as he brought a finger up to his lips, silently commanding his friend to even out his far too loud breathing.

A woman stepped onto the balcony flanked by the guards. The gold and black uniform she wore spoke of status. The upper part of her face was hidden beneath a helmet carved as a beak and a pair of spread wings. The hawkish glare she scanned the surroundings with penetrated the carpets the pair was hiding behind. GL instinctively shrunk into a ball.

"They're gone. Should we abandon the chase, Captain?" one of the man addressed her. He seemed surprised by the woman's participation. It was beneath the Captain of the Metropolis Guard to chase a couple of common street rats around the alleys. Today, she made an exception.

"Of course not!" she snapped irritably. "They've infiltrated and tried to rob the Sultan's transport! I want to know who put them up to it!"

That was a fair question, GL acknowledged, not that he sympathised with someone who hounded him. He actually didn't mind telling her about the Copperhead who as good as set up him and Wayne to be captured. But, what was he suppose to say, 'Oh sorry, we meant to rob the Vizier, not the Sultan? Please don't cut off our ears before tossing our butts into desert to die?'

The guard seemed put out by the superior's waspish response. He looked ready to fall flat on his face from exhaustion. GL hardly blamed him. His own leg was starting to feel like a dozen blacksmiths were pounding inside it. Sure, he was still in good physical shape and could sprint with the best of them, but old injuries always clawed their way to the surface. He was no longer up for the long-term marathons this pursuit turned into.

GL caught a rare glimpse of concern in his friend's blue eyes when Al looked at him before the shield went back up and they filled with brooding. Wayne was trying to find a way out of this. He was torn by guilt as well as mute fury after he followed a false lead like a newborn. There was a stark difference between robbing the Vizier, who no matter how influential was still a citizen, versus robbing the Sultan who represented the state. In terms of punishment that meant either a few years in prison or execution. GL liked his head where it was.

Yet, the punishment wasn't what bothered him the most, and he was even more bothered that this even entered his mind. It was the nagging feeling in the pit of his stomach that didn't settle right about robbing the rightful authorities who represented all people in the city. The Sultan was popular, much unlike his advisor. Luthor was feared and the economic policies he was slowly imposing on the trade were ruthless, bringing more and more under his control. There were subdued whispers about his underhanded dealings with plenty of shady characters. Not that any of this had proof. Luthor was master at covering his tracks. GL felt satisfaction at the thought of taking a chunk out of the finances of the biggest crook in the desert who in the eyes of the law kept the innocence of a sheep that went baaa.

They should have known that crippling Luthor wouldn't be so easy and that fate wasn't in their corner this day. Just as the guards were about to depart to search for the tracks, the balcony door slid open, admitting the house owner. The woman's eyes doubled in size at the sight of two rugged men lounging on her property. Her piercing shriek gave away their whereabouts.

With nowhere to go other than down, the duo jumped from the second storey into a malignant trash pile that smelled even worse than it looked. Kill Copperhead. GL shook off a rotten banana peel from his head and waved away a pack of flies with the other hand. The ground was slippery from the putrid goo stuck on the soles of their shoes.

At least the guards took the stairs, which bought them valuable time. They raced into the shadiest alley around only to be confronted by a dead end. The towering buildings without doors or windows mocked the escapees with their roughness and a huge wall dully glittered in the noon light.

"Got any wings to spare?" GL quipped with a pound of salt laced into each syllable.

Unimpressed by complaints, Al reached into one of his belt pockets. The modest piece of material held wondrous inventions that regularly saved their hides. One of them was a grappling hook. Expertly, Wayne hooked the upper part of the wall with it and began climbing with the agility even the monkeys would die in envy of. Not that he intended to inflate his friend's ego with confessions, but GL secretly thought Wayne was a genius. He followed Wayne, albeit sceptically, when common sense was telling him how the impossibly thin rope should have snapped under the weight of one, never mind two men. Yet, it held steady until Al gripped his arm to scale the top. They removed the rope not a moment too soon because they had company. The Captain was glaring draggers at the criminals from the bottom.

"Hold it right there!" she yelled, the promise of 'or else' retribution etched into each syllable.

"Yeah right," GL quipped, taking his sweet time to climb down on the other side. It didn't hurt to finally catch a breath. There was no way the guards were going to scale the wall without the rope. "Lost them," he announced with satisfaction.

"Heeeeyaaaaaaaaaah!"

GL's jaw dropped and landed somewhere on the ground unchecked. With a battle cry, the Captain vaulted over the wall. The folds of her brown cape spread like the wings. What land did she come from and did they have the word 'give up' in their dictionaries?

Wayne smoothly evaded a mean left hook as soon as her feet touched the ground. GL noted the rest of the guards didn't follow her. There were two of them and one of her. Maybe they could knock her ou..." The thought was terminated by a mace, which so far had rested on her hip, breezing a hair width past his temple and smashing into a barrel. The impact shattered the wood. Leave it to the Sultan to hire a wrathful harpy. And this one looked like she wanted to take a chunk out of his ass. Even with the military past, he had trouble blocking her kicks and punches.

The saving grace came in form of a wet sheet that landed atop the woman. A strong hand grabbed GL, pulling him up on a ledge. With far greater vigour than he demonstrated going down the wall, GL climbed higher away from the danger, while the Captain cursed, disentangling the sheet folds from her helmet.

"Bravo! Bravo!"

An obnoxious, theatrical applause resounded down the alley. Shayera turned to face a new threat. Her knuckles tensed and her grip tightened on the weapon as a group of thugs unhurriedly approached her. Judging by the unconcealed weapons and a loose swagger, these people believed they owned the place. They stopped a few feet away, trailing greedy gazes over the target's expensive attire.

GL recognised one of the most notorious gangs to whom human life meant nothing. The Sultan was going to need a new Captain of Guard. Better them getting her than she getting us, GL supposed. He tried to ignore a nasty knot that formed somewhere in his gut and prepared to depart. He almost grew to like the woman, almost.

Throwing a side glance at his friend, GL felt like smacking his head against the wall. Al-Wayne was still as a gargoyle statue. An antipathy radiated from his form. The intensity of his gaze was enough to burn a hole in the skull of the gang's leader as he watched the confrontation that unfolded below. Unaware of the wrathful scrutiny, the man laughed. The red outline that went around his mouth and stretched nearly ear to ear in a wide grin was ever mocking and in stark contrast with the white, chalk covered face.

GL had a sinking feeling that their adventures for the day weren't over yet.