A/N: This is a story I wrote for one of my very good friends. She's going through a tough time right now and just lost someone very close to her. I wish I could be there for her, but i wanted to write something that would hopefully lift her spirit a bit. To my friend, i hope this will make you laugh, if even smile and i know you know i wish there was more i could do. I hope you enjoy this.

This will be several chapters long, but it will be short. I will try to update daily so none of you lose intrest. A always, reviews are welcome and appriciated!

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What does one do when it seems like the magic has died in one's marriage? How does one rekindle the passion of long ago. How does one answer these very questions? My question exactly. Don't think that I resent my life or family or anything of the sort. Quite the opposite actually. I love my life, crazy as it may be. I only wish that there were someway I could find quality time to spend with my husband in our busy life together. I understand John is quite busy. He is , after all, employed by the new governor of Jamestown, an honor any man longs to bestow. He is paid well so that we are able to make a comfortable life. He works most of the day whilst I stay at home with our two children.

Cria is growing like a weed. I can hardly believe it's been six years since her birth. I can still clearly remember the night she was born. How John was so careful to quiet her so that she would not wake me. He later told me of the dream he had had that night. Despite my laughter, he is still set that see will not even see a young man until she is at least thirty. I tried to tell him that even a loving and protective father could not stop love, using my own father as a perfect example. He would have none of it. I suppose my dear husband will have to learn the hard way.

Two years after our beautiful daughter, we were blessed with the arrival of our second child. A son. A beautiful son with my eyes and his father's personality. We called him Joshua Thomas, after John's father and our best friend, one of the people who put everything on the line so that we could be together in this life once more. At age four, Josh, as John's affectionately calls him, is an inquisitive bundle of energy. If we are not keeping a constant eye son him at all times, as Johnsays, the Lord only knows what could happen.

So, yes my life is hectic, but it is also fulfilling. So why was I feeling so empty on that warm summer morning. I was in the kitchen of our cabin preparing breakfast for my family. Cria sat on the floor playing a game with Josh and John had risen early to check on a last minute project for the governor. The sunlight streamed in through the window and bathed my face in it's rays. I closed my eyes and savored it's warmth, a slow smile spreading across my features. I had always loved summer. Ever since I was a girl, I looked forward to the warm weather, sunshine and the overall mindset that seemed to be associated with it. People just seemed to radiate happiness with the summer sun and the mood seemed to be contagious. Yes, summer defiantly had advantages.

I was called out of my fantasy by my daughter calling my name. "Mama, Mama." she repeated, tugging on the hem of my dress. "Look what I made." She thrust a piece of paper covered with streaks of various colors all over it. "It's a picture of all of us, Mama! You, Daddy, me and Joshy! Isn't it pretty?" Her eyes shone with juvenile excitement. I dried my hands on a discarded towel that lay nearby and crouched down to her level. "Let's see this masterpiece that my lovely daughter has created."

She watched me with anxious eyes as I examined her prize work of art. I studied it closely for several moments before giving an exaggerated gasp. "My, my this is indeed a masterpiece. I can see the resemblance already. Let me guess. This is Daddy." I pointed to a blue streak near the top of the page. Cria nodded with excitement and I smiled, not letting on that I knew without a shadow of a doubt that my husband was always "blue" in one of Cria's art works. That seemed to be her favorite color to associate with her father. I turned my eyes back to the painting. "And this must be me." I said, touching my finger to a red streak that ran parallel with the blue one, another common color used by my daughter.

"Yes, yes!" Cria exclaimed, beginning to get excited. "Which ones are me and Joshy, Mama! Which ones!" By now Cria had created enough masterpieces so that I knew which colors represented who in the family, yet I always gave her the satisfaction of thinking she had confused me yet again. I sighed. "I am afraid I don't know, my love. Your art skills are far beyond my reach." She gave a laugh and launched herself into my arms. "Mama! Don't be silly! I'm the yellow and Joshys the green! See?" She pushed the paper up into my face. I took a closer look and gave my forehead a mock smack. "Of course, my dear. How foolish of me to miss that." I pressed a kiss to her soft cheek and took the picture from here. "We simply must show this to your father when he comes home."

She trotted along behind me as I set the picture aside and resumed my work "Cria, could you help me and keep an eye on your brother while I finish breakfast? Daddy should be home soon and then we can show him your painting." She only nodded and retreated to the living area to where her brother sat on the floor, still occupied with the newest toy John had bought for him. I flipped the browning pancakes, one of John's favorite dishes that he introduced me to after our marriage, onto their opposite side so they could finish cooking properly. The eggs and bacon were nearly complete and I had just set down my spatula when my daughter's cry off "Daddy!" rang through the house.

I looked up just in time to see Cria leap from the floor and run toward the man she loved more than anything in the world, Josh toddling steadily behind. John immediately dropped the bag that he carried and immediately swung Cria up into his arms, planting a kiss on her cheek. "And how is my little angel today?" he asked, still holding her to him.

Cria had thrown her arms around John's neck and had herself anchored quite tightly to him. "Fine. I painted a picture today, Daddy! A picture of you, Mama, me and Joshy. Mama's funny. She can't tell the difference 'tween me 'n Joshy!" John shot me a smile before turning his attention back to his pride and joy, which she was. Cria had her father wrapped tightly around her little finger and knew just about how to get what she wanted from him.

Joshua chose that moment to run smack into his father's leg, causing himself to fall to the ground. He looked slightly dazed for a moment before raising his arms and looking up into John's face. "Me want up too, Daddy." he cried. John shifted Cria to the best of his ability, then reached down to scoop his son up with his free arm. With both children in tow, he then came to where I waited in the kitchen. I placed a hand alongside his face and he leaned in to gently brush my lips with his. "Good morning, love." He smiled and my heart quickened it's pace. After almost eight years of marriage, he still took my breath away whenever he smiled or kissed me as he did that first time so long ago.

He turned away for a moment to give each child a second hug and kiss before setting them on the ground. "Why don't you two go wash your hands for breakfast while I say hello to your mother. If you get them really clean, then I think I just might have a surprise for you both." The children needed no further promting. Nearly stumbling over one another, they both raced off toward the wash pump to do as their father bid them. John and I watched them go before he turned to me once more. "Now where were we." he murmured before he drew me to him and coved my mouth with his.

It was if all time had slipped away and we were once more in the glade that fateful night. His lips moved over mine, tenderly caressing and expressing the same desire that I had longed for for the past week. When we finally pulled back, we were both breathless. I laid my head against his chest, eyes closed, savoring the feeling of his arms around me and mine around him. "How I've missed you." he whispered. "Why do you miss Mama, Daddy? You see her everyday?" We broke apart to see Cria staring up at us, her child innocence shinning from her eyes.

I saw John color slightly. I knew what he meant. Before he could speak, I did. "Daddy misses me just the way you miss Fiona when you're apart." I said, refering to Thomas's young daughter. "I didn't see Daddy this morning, so I missed him too." Cria seemed to cosider this for a moment before leaving to chase after her brother once more.

John let out a sigh of relief and replaced his head atop mine. "Thank God she's not old enough to understand." I let out a small chuckle and pressed a soft kiss to his jaw. "Yes, but you know, I have missed you as well. I't's been aes since we've been alone together." My husband nodded. "There is no need to tell me that, my dear. Let's face it. Our lives are far to hectic." I nodded. "Yes, but we must make time to have to ourselves, my love. I think that is the only way that we will ever find time." John sighed. "Alright Pocahontas." he said. "Tonight will be it. I'll ask Thomas and Linda to take the children and I'll come home early from the project. Then it will be just you and me. Will that suffice?" I smiled and kissed him soundly. He smirked down at me, eyes still burning with a low fire. "Well, I suppose I have my answer then, don't I?"

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Ok..next update tomrrow! Until then...leave one on your way out!