Even before Rhett Butler opened his eyes that morning he knew that something was fundamentally different. After he had left his home, hopefully for good this time, last night, he had gone with his back not directly to the train station as he had initially intended but instead to Belle Watlings place. Scarlett's profession of love had after all taken his toll on him. Even if no longer loved her, her words still resonated with him, and he had needed the numbing comfort that only liberal amounts of alcohol can bring. He sighed. Funnily enough though he didn't fell like it was a bad case of hangover he suffered from, but something was still oddly different. He tryingly opened his eyes, and quickly shut them again. The light pouring in through a window almost blinded his tired eyes. He slowly opened them again, this time taking in the room he was in.

Where the hell was he?

Had he after all been even more drunk than he had believed? And perhaps in the process charmed and bedded on of Belle's lovely alluring ladies? He doubted it though, And he sure couldn't have derived much pleasure from such an encounter had it indeed taken place as he didn't have the faintest recollection of it. He would also be surprised if he had been able to perform at all. No that couldn't be it! Another thing that also defied this notion was that the room he was in didn't look remotely like that of a well paid whore. The room was far to elegant and well scrubbed, not even a hint of decadence in the room bar perhaps his unscrubbed self he added in his mind with a hint of a smile.

To be quite honest the room looked a fair bit more like something that belonged in his mothers house in Charleston. But that couldn't be it either. He would sure have some sort of memory of his travel if he had ventured on the long tedious train ride to Charleston in the middle of the night. He eyed the room more closely, suspiciously taking in every detail of the room. If it hadn't been an absolutely ridiculous notion he would have said he was in Scarlett's old bedroom back at Tara. But for his life he couldn't think of even one single reason for him to be there. Let alone how the hell he would have gotten there in the dark hours of the night. Tara wasn't really what you would call a well connected place for night time transportation.

He dismissed the idea at once.

Well, there was only one way to find out. He looked around for the rest of his clothes or his luggage but couldn't find them anywhere. Strange. Fortunately he had fallen asleep still in his pant and shirt. So whatever he had done last night it had at least not involved any ripping off of clothes which was lucky as he now at least would look decent enough to investigate what had happened to the rest of his clothes. Crumbled from sleeping in his clothes, but nobody at Belles would raise even an eyebrow at that. A slight tease at the most, and he guessed he deserved that for drinking himself that far into oblivion.

Perhaps somebody had put them in the large wardrobe occupying most of the end wall?

He carefully swung his legs over the edge of the bed. He still felt very odd, but couldn't clearly identify the cause. And sat still for a moment leaning his head in his hands, rubbing his eyes as if to somehow force a remembrance of what exactly had transpired last night. Most of what came to mind was images of a strange gentleman he had spoken to for a large part of the evening. He still had no ideas as to what the topic of the conversation had been. Well never mind it would surely come back to him later. Perhaps he should ask Belle who the gentleman had been as he might be able to fill in the blanks in Rhett's foggy brain.

He slowly got up steadying himself on the bedpost. Even if he wasn't hung over as such he still didn't feel to hot. Midmotion he paused as he caught a flickr of movement out the corner of his eyes. He quickly turned around to see if somebody was in the room with him afterall. Perhaps his initial notion had been correct and he had indeed had a girl with him.

When he realised what he had seen he shook his head. How foolish he was. It was simply a mirror hanging on the wall almost hidden in the corner of the room. His movement had of course been reflected in it. From where he stood he couldn't see himself in the full length mirror. That he thought might be his luck as he was sure to look a frightful mess. On a second thought however he contemplated, it might be wiser for him to face up to the harsh realities of his appearance before braving the world outside the confinement of this room. He covered the length of the room in one long stride.

When his eyes caught his reflections in the mirror Rhett Butler did something he had never done before. He screamed loudly, for a moment he felt close to fainting. As he scrambled hastily backwards still screaming he fell over the bed and tumbled down on top of the covers. He lifted his hand and starred at it intently. His breathing slowly eased up as he took in the familiar shape and lines of his hand, slowly tracing the lines of his palm with his other hands index finger as to verify that it was really there. He must have been more heavily intoxicated than he could even imagine for his brain to play such a dirty trick on him.

He slowly got up again, and reluctantly edged closer to the mirror. Telling himself that it had just been his imagination, but still bracing him for what he might see.

He looked at his feet, which still had their familiar form and slowly lifted his gaze to the mirror. As he took in the image that met his eyes he almost screamed out again.

He must still be dreaming, that was the only reasonable explanation. That or he had finally lost his mind. He shook his head as if to force himself to awaken, but it didn't help and it surely did nothing to change the reflection he saw in the mirror.

He reached out and the figure in the mirror did the same, meeting each other at the solid surface of the mirror. He slowly moved his hand back to his face feeling the familiar stubble under his hand. The figure in the mirror did the same, only difference was that the cheek in the mirror was soft and smooth.

He breathed in deeply in order to keep the panic at bay.

His reflection was at the same time completely familiar yet foreign to him. It was a face and a body he had hoped not to see again for a long, long time. He was… It was Scarlett's face he saw when he looked in the mirror – it was all to strange to take in. How could it be? All logic defied that it could be true, but it seemed so eerily real. He was her.

Before he had time to put better words on this absurd unreal situation a scrambling noise from the hallway demanded his attention. He sure hoped it wasn't Belle, if her establishment was indeed were he still was. He didn't know what to believe and didn't know what other people would see when they looked at him. His mind reelled and he felt like screaming again. How could this happen? No logic could explain it. He still desperately hoped that he was dreaming, but a nagging feeling told him that this was indeed happening. But how, what, why??????

The footsteps in the hall came closer, a familiar voice penetrated the wood of the door.

"Miz Scarlett, can you hear me? Miz Scarlett is you alright"

Rhett felt the panic sneaking up on him again as he recognised Mammy's voice. Did it mean that he was at Tara? How the hell would he explain his presence here? And would Mammy even recognise him? Or would she see the same as he saw in the mirror. Rhett who had braved various dangers both before and during the war shrank back at the thought of being faced with Mammy's anger. Especially in a situation where he felt so utterly at loss as he did now. Well, there was no time to consider or to do anything to prevent the confrontation.

The door creaked open and revealed Mammy's large frame. She looked younger than he remembered; perhaps she had flourished from the air of Tara that also always had seemed to hold healing powers over Scarlett. Just as the door swung open he felt a rippling sensation going through his body, and when he looked down his crumbled shirt and trousers had been replaced by a simple frilled nightgown and his body had taken the shape of his wife.

He gasped.

Mammy cast him a suspicious glance.

"What is going on me lamb, yo screamed and screamed scarring the whole house"

Rhett didn't know what to answer, and he remained silent trying to take in this twisted reality that he was currently part of. How could he be here at Tara in his wife's body? He started to shake violently and he felt tears spring to his eyes. Apparently this new body he was in had a different threshold for watery eyes than his own.

"My lamb, what's d matter with yo, has somethin' happen'd, come now come now, you know yo can tell old Mammy everythin"

Mammy walked up to him and patted him on the shoulder.

"Now now, don't yo cry – yo gotta look pwetty for the party to day – no teary eyes that can set tounges wagging – now, now. Mist Ashley ist not worth crying for"

At those words Rhett tensed visibly. Why was Mammy talking about Ashley when Scarlett was still married to him? And what party was she talking about? The only party he knew of that would involve Ashley was Melanie's funeral, and that wasn't exactly a happy occasion where people would gossip over a red rimmed eye. The opposite was much more likely.

Mammy kept her flow of words going, seemingly not noticing Scarlett's frozen face, and some of the words suddenly registered in Rhett's brain. Mammy was talking about a barbecue and Twelve Oaks. But Twelve Oaks had been nothing more than sodden ruins for almost a decade. Unless… Unless.. But no that seemed far too far fetched. Yet, he was here in a room he had only seen briefly some years ago, in the body of his wife. If that was real, anything could be possible. Even travelling back in time!

He listened a bit more closely to Mammy's words, and all his doubt was banished. He was indeed at Tara on the very day he had met Scarlett for the first time. The day of the barbecue at Twelve Oaks. He slumped down on the bed. How was he to get through this day, and even more importantly, how was he to get out of this weird world and back into his own body in his own reality. At the same time a strange curiosity crept over him, would he perhaps better understand his damned wife if he spent some time in her original setting?