A/N: Yo guys, I'm back. Sorry this one took me awhile, but after I had written it the first time, it didn't really mesh too well, so I redid it.

I'm still not overly impressed with it, but hopefully you guys enjoy it

Anyway, I believe I've kept you waiting long enough, so, enjoy...

The Real Reason You Work For a Circus

Allen crouched in the alley's entryway, muscle tensed and body poised to spring into action. He was careful to remain in the shadows though; he didn't want the guards catching him before everything even began.

Allen glanced worriedly toward the castle entrance. It had been five minutes since Lenalee had left. It had been three minutes since he had recorded his message for her via Tim. It had been one minute since he sent Tim to get her. Allen was beginning to worry that perhaps something had gone wrong, and she had been caught or injured in some way, though the first seemed extremely unlikely, seeing as how she was the princess.

Allen had known who she was from the minute they had cleared the dust cloud, when he had gotten a good, clear look at her. The layer of dust may have fooled the guard and the other random citizens on the street, but to Allen's trained eye, it was clear who she was. Allen didn't normally associate with royalty or nobility, for one very simple and basic reason. He didn't like them. He thought all of them, kings, queens, princes, princess, and even dukes, duchesses, and earls were nothing more than pompous fools who lived for no other purpose than to line their own pockets with money they didn't earn. So of course, naturally, Allen had been planning on ditching Lenalee at the first opportunity he saw.

When he saw the injury on her arm though, his gentlemanly side took over, and he knew he needed to take care of that for her, seeing as how he was half of the cause for it. After all, it had been him that had tried to use the smokescreen to escape, although it had been the guards who had launched the flaming arrow into said cloud of chemicals without even stopping and thinking that there might have been something explosive therein. So Allen had taken the wayward princess with him back to his apartment. Along the way, they had talked some, and she had surprised him. Although it was obvious she had tried to hide the fact that she was the princess from him (which, in and of itself, had impressed him, normally those of higher society announce it at every chance they get, so that they may receive "proper respect") the way she spoke about the country and its people revealed the love she had for them.

Allen was intrigued by this princess. He had never really paid much attention to her before. Occasionally she would make an announcement or appoint a new official, perhaps sign a treaty and create a new law, but for most intents and purposes, she stayed within the walls of her castle. Since Allen didn't really give two tosses about laws (he ignored them anyway) he had never really given much thought to those who created them. He had merely labeled Princess Lenalee as a corrupt individual whose life was based on lies and greed, the same as every other monarch he had come across in his travels.

She had shattered that notion, however. For one, she had been out on the street in plain clothes, trying to blend into the general populace. And she looked completely comfortable with it. This told Allen several things. Firstly, she had done this before, running from the castle and escaping to the city. Secondly, she didn't like being cooped up in the castle, but she did enjoy being amongst the people she governed, and she wasn't scared of being seen without a mask of makeup and clothes that could bankrupt Fort Knox. And next, she had further astounded him with the passion she held for the country. She loved everything about it, except, she had confessed a little shyly, some of the people who ran it.

Needless to say, Allen Walker was intrigued by this Princess, Lenalee Lee. She was the exact opposite of everything he had come to expect from those blessed with a better living. On top of that, she was an incredibly kind and understanding women (aside from the little confrontation in the alley). She seemed to just radiate a warmth that drew people in. Allen could not help but find even himself drawn to her in a mysterious way. He shook his head. He was the Crowned Clown. He could not afford to be drawn to anybody, to be anchored by anybody.

Yet still a small piece of him hung onto the fact that he would probably be seeing the princess at least once more. After all, he had promised that he would talk to…well, himself, technically, about getting her job request fulfilled. He thought that maybe, just this once, he could afford to take a commission from royalty. Besides, he would like to learn a bit more about this princess that interested him so.

Allen did not have any more time to ponder though, as there was suddenly a large uproar from within the castle walls. He glanced to the catwalk, and sure enough, guards were sprinting toward the gateway. They barely even gave the street below a cursory glance as they sped along, obviously incredibly eager to reach the source of whatever commotion had been caused.

Lenalee had done brilliantly.

Allen burst into motion, legs pushing off the cobblestones powerfully. He was across the exposed street in two strides, and he didn't even hesitate as he approached the wall, leaping upward. He slammed his gloved left hand into the wall, burrowing his fingers into the stone as far as they would go, to give him a secure hold if he were to fall. Which, of course, he wouldn't.

Continuing to use him momentum, with no wasted time nor movement, he flipped himself upside-down, swinging his legs up and hooking his knees over the edge of the parapet. He then continued the flip maneuver, pulling his torso up and over the wall with his abdomen, much like doing a sit up, only one story in the air on a castle wall. Same thing, really. Allen was not even winded. He sprinted to the far side of the outer wall, planted one hand on the edge, and vaulted over. He hit the ground and rolled to his feet, already running across the grounds.

He was doing well. All attention was still centered on the gates, where a crowd of people had gathered, most likely to welcome back their missing princess. Still, Allen was not taking chances, and dove and ducked wherever cover was to be found. He could have sworn that one of the gardeners, a middle-aged, mopey-looking man with a curious white streak in his otherwise dark hair, who had obviously missed the large commotion, had noticed him, for his head came around just as Allen was passing. The young thief had sprung into a tree though, and the next moment he had heard the man muttering to himself, "Must've been a heat delusion or something…" he sniffed loudly. "I'm always being worked too hard."

When Allen was sure that the man had gone back to tending his (rather evil-looking) flowers, he had silently dropped from the tree and snuck off, making sure he was far enough away from the man before he began running again. He wasn't sure exactly how much time he had left, and he needed to be at least onto the second level before order returned to the Royal Grounds. He continued to fly past the flowerbeds, the buds themselves nothing more than bright splashes of colors and vague scents as he flashed past.

A moat rose to meet him. He scoffed, it was tiny. Obviously, the castle's designers had not planned on anyone getting past the outer defense system. Well, Allen was going to change that line of thinking today. He had managed to squeeze past the security with ease. Granted he had help, but Lenalee should have trained her defense force to stay at their posts no matter what was going on. To do otherwise was to invite certain disaster.

Like now, for instance. She's lucky I'm not an assassin. Allen shuddered. Anymore.

Allen shook his head. There would be time for the past later, right now he had a job to do, one in which he couldn't afford to not be paying full attention.

He vaulted the moat with barely a jump, landing lightly on the opposite side, right next to one of the support poles for a flying buttress. Wasting no time, Allen flicked out his right arm, and a small length of cloth sprung into his hand. The cloth was the end of a whole roll of the stuff, coiled up within the sleeve and body of his cloak. The material it was made from was incredibly strong and flexible. The end was weighted, so that the shape and flight path of the cloth could be easily controlled by one trained to do so. It just so happened that Allen was. He flicked his Clown Belt, as he had named it, upward, watching with calm eyes as the end wrapped itself several times around the stone bridge. He yanked it once or twice to be sure of its stability, then placed his feet on the column, and began climbing, hand over hand. Though, to be honest, it was more of a run, he was running up the wall.

Many people believed that the Crowned Clown wore the outfit he did simply because it was flashy, and that would make him noticeable, and more famous all the same. While this was somewhat true (you had to establish a name for yourself before you could start getting the good jobs), it was also very far from the main reason why Allen wore his cloak. The truth of the matter was that Allen's cloak was special. Not only did have the ingenious Clown Belt stored within it, it also served as a body armor for Allen himself, should things ever get sticky. The cloak was woven out of fiber that had proved shock, fire, and water resistant, but remained as malleable and flexible as gel. The overlapping layers of weave had saved Allen's life on more than one occasion, most notably stopping a heavy crossbow bolt was punching a large hole in his back once or twice. It had also prevented an accidental explosion, caused by a botched mark, from incinerating him. He had been trying to steal black powder and had tumbled into a guard with a torch; not a pretty site at all. The guard hadn't had any special protection.

Allen pulled himself on top of the flying buttress and lay there for a second, glancing over the edge to see if anyone had noticed him or was paying attention to the castle's walls. There was still a large crowd gathered by the entrance, everyone was trying to jostle their way to the front. He made a small grunt of satisfaction. He pushed himself to his feet, though he stayed crouched low, trying to keep his visibility as minimal as possible. He moved along the buttress, onto the large, sloping roof of the first level. He ran around the side a little ways, putting some distance in between him and the people below, on the off chance that somebody glanced his way.

He reached the wall of the second level and glanced upward. This part was going to be a lot more difficult; there were no conveniently placed marble columns for him to scale. This time it looked like it was going to be straight climbing. He rolled his neck and was rewarded with a few cracks and one loud pop. He sighed in relief; that explosion earlier had been giving him such a crick. Now, to business.

Anyone watching would have sworn that the young thief was nothing more than a large, four-legged albino spider by the way he scurried up the vertical surface. His hands and feet moved fluidly and confidently over the wall, finding holds that would have been impossible to use were it not him. He occasionally gripped into the stone with his left hand to give himself more stability. It took only a minute to reach the halfway point of the wall, where he promptly planted his feet firmly against the wall and leapt upward, grabbing a protruding gargoyle head. He swung himself back and forth a bit to build up some momentum, then swung himself under, up, and onto the statue's back, landing in a low crouch.

He huffed before allowing a small smirk to grace his lips. Too easy.

Suddenly Allen felt a chill down his spine. His instincts told him to duck and cover, because someone was watching him. The feelings disappeared the next instant though, and there were no indications that anybody had seen him, so he figured he was safe. Ignore it, Allen. Keep moving. He looked up, shielding his gaze from the setting sun. Sixty feet above him loomed the edge to the next level.

Allen began climbing again, wondering off-handedly whether or not Lenalee had listened to his message yet.

Lenalee Lee was, at that moment, sitting on a richly upholstered armchair in the Royal Library, staring with ever-widening eyes and growing sense of amazement at the recording Allen had left with Timcampi for her.

"Good afternoon, Your Majesty," Allen began. "As I'm sure you now realize, I have deceived you, and for that I apologize. I am not just a thief. I am the one and only Crowned Clown." She had pretty much figured that out by this point due to his clothing, but hearing him confirm it still sent her reeling. Allen, that kind and gentle kid, was the master thief Crowned Clown. Lenalee was having a hard time believing it "And yes," he added with a small smirk, bringing her attention back to his six inch image, "I knew who you were the entire time we were together. However, putting that aside," he waved his hand in dismissal. "The reason I instructed Tim to find you and relay this message is that I would like to arrange another meeting with you. One in which we can discuss this job that you wanted done. I promised you I'd talk to the Crowned Clown, and well…I did, I suppose." She snorted; he was trying to be funny. "I don't normally work with royalty or nobility, but you, Lenalee," he shook his head. "You're different. I'll leave Tim with you; he'll know when and where to come find me. Just be sure to follow him when he lets you know it's time. Until then, Lenalee, take care." Allen gave a small bow, and the projection wavered and fizzed out of existence.

Timcampi closed his mouth and flapped up to Lenalee's eye level. The young princess leaned back in the chair, letting off a great sigh. It had been a long, long day. First she had almost gotten blown up. Then she was essentially kidnapped. Next she assisted in thievery and was jostled back into the castle by a crowd of worriers. And now, Allen had just blatantly told her that he was the legendary thief she had been wishing to meet.

He had been right there the entire time! God, it was so frustrating. I wonder where he is now she thought absent-mindedly, staring at the ceiling. And then it hit her, causing her to sit up straight so fast that Timcampi, who had been hovering in front of her face, went shooting across the room like a bullet. He smashed into the wall and fell to the ground, wings and tail crumpled. Lenalee didn't pay him much attention though, nor did she give thought to the stinging pain now radiating from her forehead.

It had just occurred to her that Allen was probably in her room right now, or close by, at least. And she had perhaps the most direct route to the tower not but twenty feet away. Lenalee jumped to her feet and bolted for the one of the rolling ladders that were used to reach the higher shelves. She pulled it to her and threw herself up the rungs, climbing as fast as she could. She nearly slipped, but recovered quickly, reaching the top in a time that would have put an Olympic Sprinter to shame.

"Let's see…" she murmured, tapping her chin while the scanning the titles of the books on the shelf in front of her. "What did brother say this week's password was?" It took a few more seconds before she remembered with a small chuckled. Carefully, so as not to mess up, she reached out and pulled out books in a certain order, spelling out the password by threading together the letters of the authors' names printed on the books' spines. Only when the correct books in the correct order had been moved would the door to the passage open.

Lenalee shifted a book by Ronald J. Ickfess out by a couple of inches, finishing the sequence. She admired her brother's password.

Rou veli eri sapr ick

Rouvelier is a prick

She chortled. Normally the password would be changed every week, but Komui had enjoyed this one so much that he had decided to leave it up for the whole month. Lenalee could not have agreed more.

Lenalee reached up and pressed a small button, disguised as a knot in the wood, and a wood panel depressed and slid t to the side, revealing an opening in the wall on top of the bookshelf. She knew that inside there was a ladder that would take her down beneath the castle, where an earthen tunnel fed straight into the tower's basement.

She had to hurry, though. Allen was surely already in her room.

"Okay, so it's a tad further than I thought it would be," Allen murmured, eyeballing the gap between the top of the castle's central tower, where he stood now, and the top of the princess's tower. "God this would be so much easier if I still had Tim." Allen reached into his cloak and pulled out a long coil of rope. The Clown Belt was an incredibly useful tool, but its length was limited, and there was no way it was going to be reaching where he needed it to.

"Might as well get started." He tied the one end of the rope off on the balcony railing. To the other end he attached a small grappling hook, which weighed far more than it looked. If it hadn't, then there would have been no way for him to reach the princess's tower. As it was, he spread his legs and began swinging the grappling device in large circles. He need to do this in one shot, otherwise the hook would fall and alert someone. Despite the fact that it was steadily getting darker now that the sun was down, it was rather hard to miss a sharp, pointy object falling out of the sky, especially it if stuck you in the eye.

Allen exhaled slowly, completely steadying his body. He then spun with the rope on the last revolution, giving it as much extra momentum as he could, before letting it fly. The hook soared silently through the evening sky, perfectly on target for the tower. It was incredible how far one can make a hook go. The fact that tower's top was slightly lower than his position helped too.

C'mon, c'mon. It soared ever closer. C'mon. The metal made a muted ding when it hit. Then the weight of the rope pulled the hook back to the edge, where it caught and held fast on a large block. Allen breathed a small sigh of relief as he pulled all of the tension of the rope, refastening it the railing. Now that the difficult part was over, the rest was a cakewalk.

Mmm…cake… Drool began to leak out of the corner of Allen's mouth at the thought of the sweet desert. Rope gave a violent shudder in the wind, snapping Allen back to reality.

He wiped the spittle from his mouth, wishing once again that Tim was there. The small golem had always kept Allen from daydreaming for too long. Allen sighed; perhaps leaving him with Lenalee had not been the best idea. He huffed. There'd be time to worry about that kinda stuff later. Right now, he needed to finish this job. He was sure Bak was tearing his hair out in anticipation of finally getting his hands on something of Lenalee's. Seriously, sometimes Allen worried that his friend's infatuation with the princess bordered on stalker-like obsession.

Allen pulled himself effortlessly onto the rope. He had told Lenalee that he was going to do something akin to jumping. It was more of a tight-rope walking to be honest. Back in his days as a pierrot, when he had been with Mana, he had done this all the time. He could walk a tight-rope in his sleep. Awake though, he could do so much more.

Allen dashed along the line, his balance perfectly centered, moving and bobbing with the ropes every dip and sway. Even if someone looked up, all they would see was a white streak against the night sky. They'd most likely pass it off as a bird. Allen reached the other side without incident. He crouched, still suspended over air by the rope, and inspected the side of the tower. Good, that window's right where I thought it would be.

The princess only had one window in her room. It was medium sized and faced the castle. In other words, it was the perfect entry point. He shifted his grip and then swung down at the pane of glass, kicking out with both legs when he made contact. The window shattered, sending tiny glass shards everywhere. Allen landed and rolled to his feet, eyes scanning the room quickly, making sure no one was there. He was clear, but he knew he was on a timer now. Nobody could ignore the sound of glass breaking like that. Already he could hear someone climbing the stairs, though their footfalls sounded surprisingly light.

Allen didn't have time to think about it though. He looked around and spotted a comb lying on the vanity up against the far wall. Perfect. It had even had a few hairs still stuck to it (Bak had offered a bonus for those). Allen snatched the comb up and darted for the window. The door burst open just as he cleared the sill; he was safe.

Now, no matter how amazing a thief Allen was, there was absolutely no way he could survive the drop to the ground. As such he had several options open to him. He could always just toss Clown Belt up and catch the rope still spanning the two buildings and lower himself down. Silent and safe. But no, he needed to let everyone know that it had been the Crowned Clown who had stolen from the castle, otherwise someone else could gain fame for his steal.

Still, he winced a bit at his chosen method. A part of him felt like crying because it went against everything he had learned; it was going to make way too much noise. He would have to remember to bring one of calling cards, small, golden-colored pieces of metal shaped like crowns, next time so he would not have to do something drastic like this.

He buried the end of the fingers of his left hand into the stone of the tower and let gravity do the rest. The noise of the metal tearing through the stone probably woke up half of the city. Those who slept on probably had sudden nightmares about horrific banshees and large demons sharpening their gutting blades.

For five full, agonizing seconds Allen free fell with only the resistance of the stone to slow him. When he hit the ground, finally, the only thing he could hear was a loud ringing. The wall beside him rained down bits of mortar and rock from the five deep, jagged gouges left behind. He stumbled for a step or two before regaining his senses and bolting for the castle's outer wall. He cleared the grounds before any of the guards could realize what was going on, stunned as they were by the horrendous keening Allen had caused. He checked to make sure his hood was up and his mask was fastened securely (didn't want to go giving away our identity now did we?) and leapt into a tree next to the wall. He jumped again, landing nimbly on the catwalk. And just like he wanted, he ended up right in front of a guard.

The man took a few stumbling steps back, stuttering something incomprehensible.

Allen smirked, there was no way this man would mistake who he was. He vaulted over the edge and disappeared into the night.

The guard was left with nothing but the vision of a gleefully smiling pierrot with a large crown and a glinting mask.

A/N: So, love it? Hate it? Let me know what you guys thought, review!

In regards to the whole children thing from last time, you guys managed to save 15 kiddies! (I took Inked Wolf's review to mean they did in fact want one knocked off for them)

Also, on a side note: any of you ever played Cave Story? Fantastic game, my friend just showed it to me last week, and I played it for two days solid when I wasn't sleeping and going to class and whatnot. I'm gonna play through it here again soon, I think, try and get the good ending this time.

'Nother side note: if you like 8bit/chipbreak music, I highly recommend you all go listen to Sabrepulse. I just recently acquired his discography, and I've been blasting his stuff all week. He makes me smile, cause its awesome.

Review! It makes me a very happy person!

~ScionoftheEnd~