A Thrilling Chase

She's a genius involved in prolonged indentured servitude. He's a prince almost completely closed off from the rest of the universe. Both are trapped by their circumstances. Perhaps a magic ball can help them get out of it. The Vegeta/Bulma Aladdin AU that no one demanded.

After years of not trying to write fanfiction, I decided to throw my hat into the ring and write something special. This is an idea I've had since I got into Dragon Ball in June of 2015. Well, after endless months of revising and planning, I decided that it was time to finally post it. Enjoy!

King Vegeta marched out of his study and through the hallways of the palace. The sergeant he invited to the palace had just left extremely upset. That was the fifth time this month that had happened. And he had been so sure that she would be a good pick for the future queen.

He groaned, as he brought his hand to his forehead. "What am I going to do with that boy?"

The king went to the palace courtyard. There, his son was practicing a kata by himself. The king cleared his throat to get his attention.

"Do I even want to know what you said to Navet to get her out of the palace that quickly?" he asked, exasperatedly.

The prince lowered himself to the ground, and walked past his father. "Nothing she didn't have coming."

The king sighed and followed his son. "Vegeta, you can't keep turning down every suitor who comes to call. Must I remind you of the law? You must be mated with an elite Saiyan by your next birthday." The prince rolled his eyes while his father lectured him, again, and he mouthed out the words as he spoke. "For gods' sake, you've only got a week left."

"And how is that my fault?

The king roughly put a hand on his son's shoulder to stop him. He didn't intend for it to be so forceful, but the boy was grating his patience. "Son, would you please listen to me for one minute. It isn't just the law. Eventually you will take my place on the throne. After that, you will need to help our family line continue. If you don't have a mate to give you an heir, then everything our family built for generations will be for nothing."

Vegeta shook off his father's hand, and scoffed. "Have you finished lecturing me? I'd like to get back to my training."

The king sighed "Promise me something, first. If another suitor shows up, will you at least try to give her a chance before running her out of the palace?"

"If she doesn't give me a reason to, I won't." The prince walked away before his father could say another word.

Vegeta absolutely hated being forced into courtship. He never had any interest in love or romance, but if he did mate, he wanted it to be for something other than a title or an heir. Some might call that too sentimental, but he'd prefer to be bound for life with someone that didn't make him want to tear his tail off.

He continued his way down the hallway to a training room. Nappa was there, waiting for him: one of the Saiyan's most respected generals and a member of the king's council. Since he was a young boy, Nappa acted as a bit of a surrogate father to the prince. At times, Vegeta found him to be more fatherly than the king tried to be.

"Afternoon, Vegeta," Nappa addressed.

He grunted, as they prepared to spar.

"What happened, this time?"

"The usual: Woman pretends to be in love with me. I say something to piss her off. Father lectures to me about how important finding a mate is."

"Have you ever tried to listen to any of them?"

He shrugged. "What difference would it make? I've heard every line a million times."

As usual, Nappa and Vegeta began their daily sparring. However, Vegeta was tense and distracted. He was not fighting at his full strength: very unlike him. After landing blows on him too often, Nappa stopped and returned to a more relaxed stance.

"What?" Vegeta asked, in an irritated tone.

Nappa crossed his arms in front of his chest. "What's wrong?" Vegeta raised an eyebrow, in confusion. "You were distracted the whole time. I know how fast you are, and I shouldn't have been able to hit you as many times as I did. What is it?"

"You're not my psychiatrist, Nappa."

"I'm not trying to be. But you're clearly letting something get to you."

Vegeta growled. "Fine. I'm sick of being held up in this damn palace. I'd take being a low-class if it meant I could go out wherever I wanted or not have to worry about finding a mate. But no. A prince must go here and never out there. A prince must address everyone with respect, even if they don't deserve it. A prince must mate a total stranger. It's absurd! People always go on and on about how lucky I am to be privileged, and that I shouldn't take it for granted. I'd like to see them try to live as a prince for one day; they'd be glad to return to their homes, by the end of it." Without another word, he stormed out of the room, leaving Nappa behind.

After his son stormed off, King Vegeta retreated to his throne room. He tried to reason with his son, but no matter what he did, all attempts were met with hostility and rebellion. He didn't understand why his son wouldn't just go through with mating a strong, Saiyan woman. He had put up with his hesitancy for a while, thinking that he just needed to meet the right woman. He, himself, hated being betrothed to another and he didn't change his mind until he met the boy's mother. However, with every passing day, it became very clear that the young Vegeta didn't want to mate, at all. He had never seen him give a woman so much as a second glance. The king sighed, dragging his hand down his face. Why couldn't his son accept some form of responsibility? He would be king, one day, and would need a mate to produce strong heirs. Yet, all he wanted to do was train.

With only a week left, the King had two choices: let his son go unmated and end the Vegeta family reign with him; or simply force him to mate with an elite Saiyan woman, whether he wanted to or not. Most of the court would have their minds set on the latter option. Still, he knew his son would never forgive him for that. He didn't want to lose him anymore than he already had.

The king's thoughts were interrupted by the sound of footsteps coming near his throne. His apprehension faded when he saw who it was.

"Frieza, thank the gods you're here," he sighed. "You came just in time."

"I am humbly at your service, your majesty," the king's advisor replied, with notable calmness. "You seem distraught. What's troubling you?"

"It's this damn suitor business. Vegeta refuses to choose a mate. I'm at my wits end."

Frieza frowned, slightly. "Oh dear. Perhaps I can be of assistance?"

"If anyone can help, Frieza, it's you."

He chuckled. "You're too kind, sire. However, I will require access to the palace records, to make this possible."

The king hesitated. As much as he trusted his advisor, he was never one to freely give someone access to his private records that easily. "You're absolutely certain you need first hand access to them. I can easily send in a scribe to retrieve information for you."

"No, no. I'd much rather see the documents in person," Frieza turned towards his higher-up, smiled at him.

The king sighed. "Alright. I'll tell the guards to allow you to enter."

"You are most gracious indeed, your majesty. Anything else you'll need?"

"Not at the moment, no. Thank you, Frieza. Please, tell me of anything you can find." With that, he left the room.

Once the king was out of sight, Frieza rolled his eyes and groaned. For twenty years, he's had to put up with the king's idiocy and his near complete lack of strength as a ruler. Regardless of his efforts, no amount of manipulation could fix incompetency.

After his brother was made next in line for the crown of the Cold empire, Frieza knew his chances of becoming a ruler of anything were slim. So, when he met King Vegeta after his final victory over the Tuffles, he offered his services as an advisor. Ever since then, he'd been biding his time, waiting for the perfect moment to strike and take his rightful place on the throne. With the king distracted, he had mercenaries search throughout the galaxy for the traces of an artifact; one that would give him whatever he desired. Just a few months ago, he was alerted that there were signs of it on a planet just a few hours away. However, Frieza was never one to get his hands too dirty, and he needed someone to go after it. Now, with the archives opened to him, he had the name and records of every person living on the planet. All he needed to do now is to find the perfect canary.

Vegeta was sitting in the rafters, snooping in on a conversation about him. Nappa was discussing what had happened with him, earlier that day. He and a few other generals were throwing around ideas of what they could do about his 'attitude'. In constast with the others, Nappa thought that letting him out of the palace for a normal day in the city would do him some good.

"Look, Vegeta's not a kid who likes to be told what to do, and he's stuck in a position where he has ten people breathing down his neck and judging every tiny thing he does. Nearly twenty years of that has worn him down, and this suitor business was probably the last straw. I'm not saying 'throw him into a big crowd and see what happens', but maybe one or two days outside of the palace would cool him down. The kid's been putting up with the court's crap for a long time; I think he's earned a bit of free time."

The prince had visited the city before, but it was always for some royal duty: never for leisure. He didn't object to Nappa's idea, but he knew his father would reject it before he even heard the proper terms. With that thought, he decided that enough was enough.

Late, that evening, he slowly exited his room from the window. He wasn't dressed in his normal Saiyan armor; he wore an older, more worn out model. If he wore his royal attire, he'd attract too much attention. Knowing that flying over the palace walls would cause the guard's scouters to go off, he decided to climb up and over them. Before beginning his ascent, he looked back at the palace. Immediately, a wave of hesitation fell over him. Just as quickly, he shook it off, and slowly climbed over the bricks. Once at the top, he slid off the edge and into the city.

Finally, he was free.