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This is the story of two furs as they go through their lives together, a decade at a time. It's a project I've been working on for a while now, in my head and on paper, and I'm so glad to be posting it for the furry public to see at long last. I can't remember the last time I ever invested so much emotionally in a series.

I really hope that you'll give it a read, and follow these two in their life together from start to finish. Hopefully it'll reward you at least a fraction as much as writing it has rewarded me.

The characters of John and Samantha were created by me, Jeeves, and should not be used without permission.

Decades - '34'

Watching as the school bus pulled away from the roadside, the kids aboard it far too busy chatting with their friends to cast so much as a cursory glance towards their parents, John and Samantha stood side by side with the fingers of their tightly clasped hands tenderly entwined. They watched until the bus rounded the corner and vanished out of sight, and even then remained there in the doorway for some thirty seconds more, simply gazing out at the silent road junction around which their children had vanished aboard their big, yellow ride.

"So it begins. Sadie last year, now Robbie too. Thirteen years of nagging them to do their homework, watching as they start to hide things from us about their personal lives, then their love lives. To pass classes and act like they don't care when really they want us to make a fuss. To complain when they flunk history tests. To be bullied, or _be_the bully. To learn so much aside from their education, and forget so much more. It kinda makes you wanna grab them, hug them and never let them go to that schoolyard again, doesn't it?"

Releasing her hold upon John's hand as he addressed her, stepping back with her husband as they closed the front door, Samantha slipped her arms around the slightly plump raccoon's waist and embraced him. The two of them were alone together for the first time in more than six years, beyond the occasional sleepover or babysitter gleaned night out. Of course, that may have been something of an exaggeration when you considered playdates, friends birthday parties and other such social events, but as Samantha felt her mate's hands on her cheeks and his lips coming to rest fondly against her own, it really did feel like six years.

They sank into the kiss slowly, nervously, as though expecting a shrill, squeaky voice or a chirpy, childish giggle to interrupt them at any moment. Before long though the raccoon and his gorgeous lemur were wrapped up in one another like it was ten years ago. Hands clasping at denim and cotton clad buttocks, tongues greeting one another like old flames finally reuniting, shallow, rapid breathing and soft murmurs of longing, attentive delight. They were alone, alone for hours to come, and their hearts and _bodies_alike were brimming over with excitement at the very thought of what that might mean.

Drawing back from that tentative kiss some seconds later, cheeks enflamed and eyes still darting rather nervously from side to side, Samantha whispered a shaky query to her husband. Did they dare... was it even possible? She would never know, not unless she was to ask.

"C-can we...?"

The implication was obvious, and that was why it broke John's heart that he knew the answer immediately, as, likely, did Samantha. The raccoon shook his head slowly from side to side, holding his wife closer still to his own form as she let slip an accepting, almost knowing sigh.

"I need to get on the road if I'm gonna make it into work on time. You know what the roads have been like since they started resurfacing the bypass."

One last twinkle of desire shone in the female's amber hues, and she looked up at her lover with such anticipation as she bashfully, selfishly asked him the question that was on both their minds.

"Can't you just... y'know, call in sick? Just today. Just this once."

John wanted more than anything in this world to say yes. He always wanted to say yes to his wife; to make her happy by doing so. If only life was could be so kind as to let him.

"I want to. You know I do. But... I can't. I really can't, Sammy. If we're gonna save up the money we need to get Sadie that bike for Christmas, and that RC car Robbie's been drooling over every time the commercial comes on the TV, I can't afford to lose any of my bonus on sick days. Besides, I know you've got a deadline for the day after tomorrow, and we both know that if I stay home today it won't just be an hour or two in the morning we waste. We'll be together right up until we hear the school bus rolling down the block again this afternoon."

That last thought, he and Samantha in bed together all day, didn't exactly help the male's restraint, but as he looked down at the lemur cuddled up to him, John could see in Samantha's eyes that she knew he was right. Sure enough, she nodded ruefully, loosening her embrace around his waist though not entirely releasing him quite yet.

"Listen, Sammy, I promise that we won't have to wait much longer. I know it's been a while longer than we usually go without... w-without doing anything together, what with the kids being restless all weekend in the run up to school re-starting and Robbie having that fever towards the end of last week. But tonight, after the kids are asleep, all tuckered out from their long day at school, I swear that we'll do something together. I'll do that thing I do which makes your ears glow red, and then we can gather up some pillows, and do it like we love to. Okay?"

Samantha blushed at the thought of that thing which did indeed make her ears burn bright red, and nodded once again.

"Okay, JD. T-thank you."

The couple rubbed noses fondly, and John let slip a deep, rumbling growl of affection.

"I love you, Sammy. I can't wait till tonight, and y'know what else? I can't wait till next Tuesday, when we both have a whole day off. We're gonna have such a good day. Lying in bed together, talking, cuddling, not a scrap of clothing on our bodies the whole time. It'll be like we're fresh out of college again."

Nuzzling at her husband's own nose and muzzle, then kissing the nape of his neck gently, Samantha let slip a long, lingering sigh of contentment to match his fond growl.

"I think... I think that maybe I can wait, then, JD. Yeah, I can wait. I c-can make it. _We_can make it. Coz our kids are worth every second of time we spend with them, even if it means we can't sleep together as often as we used to. And y'know... sex or not, you're worth it too, John. I love you."

With those final tender words and one last kiss, John and Samantha parted from their tender cuddle in the middle of the hallway and began to prepare for the weekday routine. The raccoon, blushing as he padded away from his wife with a noticeable bulge in his crisp black work trousers, headed back upstairs briefly to grab his jacket and shoes, before returning to the hallway to pick up the item which completed his transformation into a corporate stereotype; his black leather briefcase. Samantha meanwhile moved into the kitchen and began to load the dishwasher with the kids and their own breakfast items, pausing only when John padded in with that smiling yet slightly sorrowful look which could only mean one thing.

A temporary, but no less aggravating goodbye.

"See you soon, JD."

"Have a good day, Sammy. Try not to trash any of our favourite restaurants again, okay?"

One more, brief kiss. Well... one more kiss. One rather long, tender, protracted kiss, and the two furs parted once more. John turned back to face his dear wife, smiling as she watched him head along the hallway, and only span on his heels to face the door when he was in danger of walking straight into it otherwise. That was for the best though, because neither John nor Samantha could bear to see the look on their partner's face as they vanished from view while the front door swung closed between them. It was agony enough just to feel it themselves, never mind to see it on the face of the one they cherished above all others, their children aside.

John walked across the short pathway to their garage door, the quaint suburban home which Samantha's more lucrative career had bought them the very picture of normality behind him. Who'd have thought that within its humble walls stood the most perfect creature ever to be set upon god's green Earth. Of course, the raccoon himself knew that to be the case, but the rest of the world... oh, how naive and unaware they all were.

Opening the garage door with one of the two remote buttons on the same key-ring as his car keys, John subsequently de-activated the car's alarm and slipped inside its comfortable if a little stuffy interior. On autopilot he did all those things which one did when starting a car, slipping it into drive, turning the key in the ignition, and tuning in the radio before clipping his seatbelt into place and slipping the vehicle into reverse. He backed out of the garage, out of the driveway, and turned onto the street which led towards the city. Towards the city, and the office block which awaited him there.

As he began to drive along the street, John couldn't help but look back at his home. He sighed, wondering if it was his mind playing tricks on him, or if he really could see the silhouette of a figure in the living room window, watching him drive away. Either way, a few seconds later he was too far from the house to make out any detail of the window in his rear view mirror, and the journey away from his home melded instead into the journey _to_work.

Life, John noted as he flicked on his indicators and turned onto the main road of their little village, applying the breaks and watching as an elderly canine couple crossed the road ten metres or so in front of him, seemed so much more dull without Samantha or his children around. With them it was all conversation, buzz, excitement and affection. Sure there were the occasional childish tantrums, the arguments and the complete overwhelming realisation that they were grown up now, and that for this reason he and Samantha couldn't simply chuck in their plans for the day in favour of making sweet love to one another, but it was still vastly preferable to the alternative. The drive to work. The drive home from work. Work itself. It wasn't a bad job, of course, and he was lucky to have such a well paying and reliable career in these harsh economic times. But... no, it was undeniably dull when compared to life without those he loved.

Back at the house which John had left behind, meanwhile, Samantha was wrapped up in similar thoughts. The kitchen was almost completely clear of the normal breakfast debris by now, and thus the lemur found herself wandering into her downstairs study, the door unlocked and open as there were no kids around to interrupt her as she worked. Still standing, Samantha booted up her computer and looked over the various scraps of paper and notepads strewn over her desk. She had to write a restaurant review for the paper tomorrow, but which one? The Indian place which she and John had visited last week, perhaps. It had been almost three weeks since her last favourable review, and this place certainly deserved praise for its innovative starters and genuinely helpful, cheery staff. But then... no matter how long it left the good restaurants sitting un-reviewed, people always liked to read about a restaurant disaster. Shadenfreude was always the dish of the day where the public were concerned.

The lemur's eyes widened.

Slipping seamlessly into her seat, Samantha snatched up a notepad and pen before that turn of phrase could escape her grasp. She began to write, eyes wide, a coarse grin spread across her animated features.

'If I perceived the intent of the chef at 'La Canard Grosse' correctly, then shadenfreude is almost certainly the unspoken dish of the day. I can think of no other reason why anyone would so willingly inflict such heinous food upon his diners night after night, with a menu which somehow has endured, unchanging, for more than three months now.'

The computer chimed to tell Samantha that it was ready for her use, and the lemur barely skipped a beat as she clicked her mouse over her word processing package of choice and almost instantly began to type out what she'd just written on paper. Once the magic began to flow for Samantha, nothing would stop it, and she knew that it would probably be the best part of three hours before she rose from in front of that computer screen to go grab a quick shower, a coffee, and a sandwich from the fridge to keep her going till John cooked them all dinner that evening.

Had Samantha thought about it, although admittedly that would rather have defeated the purpose of her doing so, she would have thanked this revelation for taking her mind off John and his absence. Prior to this flash of inspiration which had genuinely prompted her into doing some serious work rather than simply procrastinating and _thinking_about working for a while, the lemur's plan had been instead to sit back in her chair, open up the robe which she had been wearing since getting out of bed that morning, and slipping a paw down into the pair of her husband's boxer shorts that served as her nightwear.

It would just have been a quick, no nonsense fumble to clear her mind till that evening rolled around and she and John could truly be together of course. But quickie or not, it still would have taken something away from the fact that she knew John was also counting down the time till they could be together, unable to touch himself and relieve some of his more urgent physical desires as she would have relieved hers.

Now though, that temptation had been at least temporarily routed by the final of her three all consuming passions, her husband and her children making up the other two. Samantha Walsh-Douglas, food writer and restaurant critic, was well on the way to producing her most cutting, and therefore likely her most popular review yet, and for at least a little while that rush of emotion, of adrenaline and of less than pleasant gastronomic memories was sufficient to keep her heart from breaking or her loins from burning.

Of course, that did mean when the time finally came for her and John to be together, she'd be all the more pent up and needy. Somehow though, on whatever subconscious level she was still aware of her desires, Samantha didn't think her husband would mind that all too much. In fact, she could already see the look on his face as she stepped out of their bedroom's en suite bathroom wearing nothing but a smile, and began to walk towards where he lay upon the bed with a hand already wandering down between her legs.

A soft, excitable growl escaped Samantha as she paused in her writing, a slightly confused expression spreading over her face. Why, exactly, had she just growled?

Shrugging, the lemur went back to her work, shooting a brief glance at the clock in the bottom right corner of her computer's monitor as she resumed her typing.

8.55am.

Only twelve more hours to go.

By Jeeves