Disclaimer: Oh, bah with the disclaimer. I OWN EVERYTHING! HAH! (The police come in with piles of law suits that demand money) Err, right. I meant, ahem, THEY OWN EVERYTHING! HAH!

A/N: My cousins are coming back from their semi-trip tomorrow, so this is a last attempt to type a chapter in peace. Also, the documents uploader is once again being a butt, so unfortunately, I must spend my time staring longingly at my reviews and typing more and more chapters for the story that pile up in my documents. Oh, life is hard, (breaks down crying). Errr. Well. Anyways, I'm sure that you want to read the story. Yeah.

Chapter 19

Rescued from the Modern World

(Jafar)

I was lost.

I wouldn't admit it to anybody, and for a while, not even myself. Jafar did not get lost, and I was Jafar. Technically, it was not possible in the laws of physics that I did not have any idea where I was. I settled with the fact that I was not lost, but merely unfamiliar with my surroundings and currently unable to think of a way to get out of the housing division in Irvine.

I heard a whooshing noise behind me. Too late, I whirled around to see three girls approaching on an odd mechanism composed of two wheels, several iron bars, handles, and a rubber seat. I only remember a flash of pain and an anguished scream before they ran me over.

…………….

An odd, persistent orange glow shaded the insides of my eyelids. I was looking at a sort of demented sunset with my eyes closed. A foolish, wide smile spread across my lips, until I was aware of voices talking. I shifted my shoulders ever so cautiously, and felt gravel rubbing against the red silk of my robe. The voices were young, though I could not understand the gender because they were hushed.

Of the fast English, I understood that they must have been the girls that had run me over. I tried to get up and demand an apology and probably torture them for a while, but when I moved, a searing pain erupted from the base of my back. I stopped writhing, and the voices stopped abruptly. "He's awake," whispered one voice out of the silence. Then another, saying a word that I had never heard before. I guessed that she was swearing.

The third girl laughed. I felt something prodding me in the side of my stomach. I groaned and rolled over on the ground, opening my eyes a crack to see blacktop. There wasn't much of it in Agrabah, but I came to associate it with black-dusted hands. My robes were beyond saving now. The girl was prodding me with a stick, I realized. To what terms had modern society lowered themselves to?

She said a few words that I had also never heard of. She wasn't swearing, I was fairly sure, but she was using slang.

I rolled back onto my back, (the aching pain again), and looked up at my torturers. (This was oddly backwards. It was too ironic that they were prodding me with sticks while I lay on the ground, when the positions should be reversed). One was blond, like that lunatic genie. That set me off to be wary of her. Nobody could meet Haillie and like blondes afterward.

The other two had black hair, like Jala. A lump formed in my throat. I refused to admit that I was scared and homesick, so I concentrated on them. Of the two black-haired girls, one had skin slightly lighter than mine but not as pale as the blond girl, and the other had darker skin than me. I shrugged. That was all I needed to know about them. Two of them had odd circles made of metal around their eyes.

"You're awake," said the girl with blond hair. I realized that her hair was not actually as pale as Haillie's. It had been a trick of the light. I refused to respond to her statement. The other two girls stood, openly staring at me with their arms crossed defiantly over their chests. The cursed machines that had run me over stood parked nearby: two pink, and one white.

"Should we call the police?" said the tan-skinned girl quietly. The last word she uttered was also one that I did not understand. Was my vocabulary really so limited? "No, Irvine is the safest city in America. We would be shaming their crime rate," laughed the last girl. I ignored their conversation, having just suffered another spasm of pain from the lower back. I groaned and rolled over.

The tanned girl's eyes widened. She chuckled, as if experiencing some inside joke. "Ella, we hurt his tailbone." My eyes widened too. My tailbone? If it was cracked enough, I would be immobilized for the rest of my life, and they were laughing about it! Were all children so cruel nowadays? I didn't have time to ponder my theory. "Can you walk?" asked the blonde one, stifling laughter as she prodded me with the long stick again. I grunted, not wanting to give them the satisfaction of hearing my crude English.

They did not help me up, nor did I expect them to. I pushed myself up. Two of them walked behind me on either side, and the blonde one led me to a large tree on the corner of the lot that they had dropped me in. There was a long building next to me: not tall by any degree, but quite long. I guessed that we were at an abandoned schoolhouse. I eyed the cracked remains of a wine bottle suspiciously as I sat down carefully in the grass. This time, the pain was not so distracting.

"So. Who are you?" asked the dark girl with the silver around her eyes. "Jafar," I replied. My voice was worn with disuse. They all assumed expressions of boredom. "And why are you dressed so weird?" asked another one. I didn't remember who, because I had closed my eyes. I didn't reply to that question. They were dressed quite strangely themselves: they were all wearing shortened pants, which women should not do as they are undergarments and should remain that way, and bagging overclothes.

The tan girl shrugged. "I'm late for dinner. He'll go home by himself." The other two left as well, climbing onto the strange mechanisms and riding away through an opening in the low gate of the schoolhouse. I sighed and leaned against the strong bark of the tree. How could fate be so cruel to me as to entrust my destiny to a gaggle of cruel girls that could be no older than eleven years of age?

…………………..

"Jafar. Jafar!" I heard a voice hiss. At first, alarm shot through me like the pain in my back. They were back to torment me. But gradually, as senses took over sleep stupor, I realized that the voice was female, but older than theirs. One that I would recognize anymore. It was one that I would normally be extremely annoyed to hear, and yet right now, I blessed it.

"Haillie?"

"Well, who else?" it replied irritably, pulling me upright. My tailbone struck a root. Stars paraded before my eyes as the numbing pain worked its magic and tears sprang into my eyes. The genie came into focus, hovering just above the ground. A midnight blue sky stretched above me, as well as the large tree's leaves, and grudgingly, I admitted that it all was rather beautiful.

"Are you going to gape all night, or are you going to come with me and ask me as to why I'm here? Inform me when you decide to stop being a gaping idiot," remarked Haillie. With a start, I realized that she seemed rather sane. And that had only one explanation: Jasmine had made a wish, most likely to get me here. "Why are you here?" I asked through gritted teeth, no longer glad to see her.

Her face smirked in the night. "If you don't want me here, I guess I'll just leave." She vanished in a puff of pink smoke. I started. "Haillie? Haillie! Come back!" She reappeared, looking rather smug. "Now, are we ready to cooperate? I can always hold a conversation with Steve and Bob while we wait." I shook my head. She was still as insane as ever, except now her brain worked. That was no stroll in the park in my direction.

To begin with, why was she here? "Haillie…how did you get across the Pacific ocean?" I asked. She shrugged. "Same way you did: in a box. Except you had the luxury of being on a barge: I floated around for days." I gulped down the bile that flowed out of my throat. Oh, the seasickness that would had plagued me then!

"Oh, and the Sultana knows everything," added Haillie conversationally. I started, causing my tailbone to punish me. After I had caught my breath, I said very slowly, "So you'll bring me back, will you? How am I supposed to reappear before the Sultana?" Haillie glared at me. "Jasmine knows what you were trying to do before her wish. That's why she made it." I gulped.

After a bit of thinking, I replied, "If you take me back to Agrabah, I won't continue my plans to take over the throne and you can have bananas." "Let me think about that…done," she said a little too quickly. I smiled. Some things never changed.

The two of us vanished in a puff of pink smoke, speeding to Agrabah. What I didn't understand was why Haillie and me couldn't have arrived that way.

A/N: Once they're back, chaos will insue! Who will get the throne? What will Jala do?