A/N: I got the inspiration to write a one-shot about the night before Goku left for the Cell Games. I know a lot of people dislike Chi-Chi, but I think she has a good relationship with Goku, so I tried to portray that here. Anyway, I hope you enjoy.

WARNING: For Mature Adults Only.

DISCLAIMER: Dragonball Z belongs to Akira Toriyama.


He said goodnight to his son, assuring him everything would be fine tomorrow. The young boy nodded in agreement, but he knew the youth was quite afraid. It was understandable. Cell was very strong, stronger than anyone he or his companions had ever faced before. And they were less than twenty hours away from facing him in combat. The idea of a tournament was such a sham: the android would follow the rules only as long as it suited his purposes, and would cast them aside when he so chose. Everything would be alright, though, he believed.

As he entered his room he heard Chi-Chi say goodnight their son as well, but her words were of caution and making him promise not to get involved in the fighting. A twinge of pain struck him, for he knew his son would not be able to keep any such promises. His wife did not deserve that, but then again she never did.

Over the years, he had noticed his wife growing more distant from him as her motherly instincts took over. He could hardly blame her: He died and was gone for a year, and then left little more than a month later for another year. These past three years of training had been very focused on preparation. There had been little time for anything else. She kept strong by being the protective mother. He had been so unavailable to her, so perhaps the cold treatment was well-deserved. Saving the planet was always a noble goal, but he realized it required sacrifice.

He removed his jacket and began to put it on a hanger when his wife entered their room. "Oh, Goku, let me do that for you." She reached for the jacket, but he had already put hung it up in the closet.

"It's okay, Chi-Chi, I've got it." She gave him a stern look.

"Well, you had better give me the rest of your clothes to hang up, or they'll wrinkle." The tone in her voice was very serious. He knew better than to disobey his wife. He was a mighty and powerful Super Saiyan, and he would rather fight monsters than argue with Chi-Chi.

He removed his slacks and his shirt, handing them over as she snatched them from his fingertips. It was a relief that he would finally wear his gi tomorrow: he had not worn it for the past ten days in order to force himself to relax. In all honesty, though, it was more for his son than it was for him.

Chi-Chi was straightening the clothes with a meticulous hand. Once she finished there, she went to the bed and began smoothing out wrinkles in the sheets. At first, he thought it was just her perfectionism kicking in. That was until she refused to stop even when no more wrinkles were present. Something instinctual kicked in and he moved behind her, wrapping his arms around her body. He pinned her arms to her sides.

"Chi-Chi, what's wrong?" At first, she said nothing. He then began hearing soft sobs, and felt small water droplets on his forearms. "Chi-Chi?" He spun her arm and saw she was crying. She buried her head in his chest.

"Why?" His ears perked up. "Why do you have to go? You've done so much for this planet already. One would think someone else could do the job by now." Through her sobs, he heard her anger. His arms tightened and he brought her closer against him.

"Yeah, one would think. But, there isn't anyone else. I know you know that, but I also know it doesn't help. I'll be fine, Chi-Chi, don't worry." She struggled against him and he let her go. The woman that faced him was like a fury.

"Don't tell me not to worry! You're going to face that monster tomorrow! I've seen what he can do, and I have every right to worry about you! Goku, you've died once, and almost died countless other times. I don't want to lose you again." The fury disappeared and was once more replaced by the sobbing woman. She fell against his chest and he wrapped his arms around her back, stroking her hair lightly.

"I know. I don't want to leave you again. Believe me, I have no intention of anyone dying tomorrow." She looked up at him with tear-soaked eyes.

"You promise?"

"I promise." He leaned down and placed a gentle kiss against her lips. When he removed his lips, she would not remove her hands.

"Please." The rosy tint to her cheeks and her shallow breathing told his body everything, and it liked what it heard. It had been so long since they were intimate. Yes, they had had sex, but out of sheer lust rather than desire. His body craved the intimacy, and he knew hers did as well.

His hand traced her spine with his fingers and cupped the back of her head. This time when his lips touched hers, they did so with a mission. They softly played against hers, melting deeper and deeper with each pass. Her tongue darted out to graze his lips and play for entry. Never one to disobey his beloved, his lips parted and his tongue slid across hers and deepened the kiss. It had been odd the first time she had done this: he knew he liked kissing for some reason, and adding tongue, though odd, seemed pleasant. Little did he know how well his body would respond after several lessons with his wife.

One hand still on the small of her back, the other worked its way through her hair, removing the band keeping it up in a bun. Long, black locks fell to the middle of her back as she moaned against his mouth. She ground herself deeper into his embrace. He decided she was wearing too many clothes.

It had taken many attempts to learn how to remove his wife's clothing without damaging it, but he was now easily proficient in the art. Everything but her undergarments fell away, and the bits that were left would only be there for so long. He laid her on the bed and lay parallel to her body, slowly removing his lips from hers. She moaned in protest when his lips ventured lower, nipping at her collarbone and teasing the flesh of her breasts. He even dared let his tongue snake out and taste the sides of her heaving bosom. But that was not his goal just yet. He trailed kisses down her abdomen and smiled when he reached the waistband to her panties. For anyone else, the plain black panties may have seemed unappealing, but he knew better. They were cut lower and more shapely than her usual underwear: she had worn them in anticipation of his seeing them. Just the thought sent a wave of arousal down his body.

He breathed in deep, and scented the arousal pooling between her legs. Yes, there would not need to be too much persuasion to get her ready. Her arousal judged, he moved himself back up her body and lingered upon her breasts. A smile graced his face as he reached a hand underneath her back and unhooked the clasp holding the ample mounds from the world. After removing the garment, he settled his hands upon them and let himself enjoy the weight of them. She moaned and moved beneath him, trying to move his hands into a more advantageous position. He obliged.

Both nipples were already erect when he took them between his thumbs and forefingers, rolling them around gently as his wife let out soft screams of pleasure. He removed a hand and let it trail down her abdomen, replacing the hand with his mouth. The stray hand slipped under the waistband of her panties and slid to the moisture below. That must have gotten her attention, because the only way she knew to react was by grabbing at his boxers, grabbing a hold of the erection below. He let out a small moan into her breast as she stroked him as he stroked her.

Seeming to have had enough, his wife sat up and placed her hands against his chest and pushed him to the bed. It did not matter how strong he was: his wife's wish was his command. Teasingly slow, she removed his boxers and tossed them to the floor, admiring the hardened length that had been revealed to her. He had to restrain his cries when she took him within her mouth. Her ministrations increased in intensity with each stroke, and he could feel his control slipping. Seeing the love of his life, hair splayed across his abdomen and reveling in pleasuring her husband, was almost too much to bear.

"Chi-Chi..Ah!...I think…we are both ready." She stopped and gave him a knowing smiled as she leaned back against the bed, resting her head on the pillows. He came over her and delicately removed her panties, another wave of arousal coursing through him as a slick strand of wetness followed the panties from between her thighs, breaking only when he threw them to the floor. He spread her thighs and placed one hand on the side of her head, the other on the small of her back. He took a deep breath and hilted himself within her.

There was a mutual moan of pleasure as he entered and removed himself, setting a fast but pleasurable pace. She screamed softly with each thrust and he matched with a low growl of satisfaction. It was not long before he felt her tighten around him, before she screamed in release. The contractions of her about him were more than he needed for his own climax. He stayed joined with her for a few minutes, letting his seed spill into her. Finally removing himself, he lay on his side, breathing heavily.

His beautiful wife looked at him, sweat glistening from her skin, and smiled. "I hope this won't wear you out for tomorrow."

He returned the smile. "It was quite the workout, but I'll recover from it soon. Besides, even if it did wear me out, it would have been well worth it." He kissed his wife goodnight and fell asleep.


A/N: Hope you enjoyed.