Scarlett woke with a start, her heart beating beneath her ribs like a frightened bird hurling itself against the bars of its cage. Her bedroom was pitch black, but she could not fight the feeling that she was not alone in the darkness. Unthinkingly, she reached out an arm to alert Rhett only to find cold, empty sheets in the space his warm body should have occupied. A pang of regret echoed through her as she remembered that this was no longer his bed, that he had not slept by her side since that dreadful afternoon when she had chosen ill-conceived fantasies of Ashley over the solid reality of her husband's embrace. Lord knew that this was not the first time she'd wanted to take back that decision, but usually it was his stories and caresses that she longed for in the lonely hours of the night rather than the physical strength that she needed now.

Oh fiddle dee dee, she thought, chiding herself internally for her moment of weakness. I got through an entire war without him, didn't I? I'll be damned if I can't handle this, too.

Pulling herself up silently into a crouching position, Scarlett readied herself to fight or flee. 'Who's there?' she called out, careful to sound angry rather than scared. Silence was her only answer, and she was tensing her muscles in preparation to run when a frightened, childish sob broke free from the suffocating gloom.

'Ella? Is that you?' she asked in a harsher tone than she'd intended, her relief quickly giving way to annoyance.

'N…n…no,' came the stuttered, terrified response. If Scarlett had not been certain it was a girl's voice she'd heard speaking then she would have bet her life that it was Wade crying in the blackness. For surely it could not be her boisterous, brave Bonnie? Her demeanour softened as she strained her eyes to catch sight of her favourite child, the thrill of triumph coursing through her veins at the thought that Bonnie had thought to seek her out in her distress, rather than her saintly father.

'Bonnie is that you?' she soothed gently. 'What's the matter, honey? Come tell Mama what's wrong.'

It took a few moments, but eventually a soft shuffling sound filled the air as the small, slender outline of her daughter detangled itself from the darkness and Bonnie climbed eagerly into Scarlett's waiting arms. Burying her head into the crook of Scarlett's neck, Bonnie began to sob harder, her whole body convulsing with the force of her tears. Scarlett tapped her gently on the back and tried her hardest not to lose her temper at the fine mess her daughter was making all over her new silk nightgown. She reminded herself sharply that Rhett never shouted at Bonnie, especially when she was upset, and that if she was to stand any chance of exceeding him in their child's affections then she too would have to learn to tolerate such nuisances.

Working hard to keep the irritation out of her voice, Scarlett began to stroke Bonnie's hair slowly and rhythmically as she murmured in her ear, 'Sweety, I can't help you unless you tell me what's wrong.'

Bonnie shuddered violently in her arms and cried out, 'I had a nightmare that you and Daddy were dead and then I woke up and it was all dark and Daddy was gone!'

Scarlett's mood soured as she realised that the only reason Bonnie had come to her was because her precious Rhett was nowhere to be found. She wondered spitefully if Bonnie would think her father such a hero if she knew where he really was, and more importantly who he was with, at this late hour. Pushing her vindictive thoughts out of her mind, Scarlett refocused her attentions on her daughter. While she may not have been Bonnie's first choice of parent this time, if she played her cards right then perhaps she would be next time. And wouldn't that just serve Rhett right if she used the time he spent out gallivanting at that awful saloon to replace him in their daughter's heart!

Smiling her cat-got-the-cream smile, Scarlett kissed Bonnie's rumpled curls and rubbed her back in small, soothing circles. The actions did not come naturally, at first. Scarlett, unused to showing maternal concern and unsure how best to express it, found herself falling back on the sort of things that Rhett had used to do for her whenever she'd woken screaming from her own nightmares, back in the days when he'd still cared enough to comfort her.

'Shh, baby,' she crooned. 'It was just a nasty dream, that's all. I'm here, aren't I? And I promise you that I'm never going to go anywhere.'

Bonnie's sobs subsided slightly at Scarlett's words and she sniffled loudly. 'But where's Daddy?' she asked quietly, the fear still tightly laced up in her little voice.

Scarlett frowned slightly at Bonnie's words, annoyed that even when he wasn't here Rhett was able to come between her and her daughter. Unwilling to let thoughts of him spoil their rare moment together, she quickly recovered herself and, adopting a too-bright voice, said, 'Why Daddy's gone to see an old friend who needs his help. He'll be back soon, and when he is, he won't want to see you crying, will he?'

Bonnie stilled, seeming to consider this, before she slowly shook her head. Taking a shuddering breath, she wiped her remaining tears away with the back of her hand. 'Can we wait for him downstairs, Mama?' she asked, staring up at Scarlett. 'I don't like your bedroom.'

'Why not?' Scarlett snapped, stung. In that moment, she wasn't quite sure if her anger stemmed from the fact Bonnie had just insulted her beautiful bedroom or the idea that she would never be truly satisfied until she was in Rhett's arms.

'It's cold,' Bonnie said simply.

'Why, honey, then I'll light a fire.'

'No,' Bonnie persisted stubbornly. 'It'd still be cold.'

Scarlett opened her mouth to argue before snapping it quickly shut, her room was cold these days in a way that went deeper than just temperature. Cold in a way it hadn't been when she'd shared it with Rhett. Not wanting to think about it any further, Scarlett felt it would be easier to simply give her daughter what she wanted. It always seemed to work well enough for Rhett, anyway.

'How about we go and sit in the parlour?' she asked. Scarlett allowed herself a small smile, taking Bonnie's vigorous nod against her shoulder for agreement. Reaching for her wrapper, she placed Bonnie on the bed beside her for a moment and slipped it on over her nightgown. The night was cold, and she did not wish to catch a chill. She tied it securely around her waist, and bent back down to pick up her daughter. Bonnie came without a fuss, happily wrapping her arms around Scarlett's neck and her short legs around her waist. Clutching her close, Scarlett began to navigate her way carefully across the room, heading for the faint, silvery outline of the door.

On reaching the landing, the moonlight from the large stained glass window above the stairs illuminated the empty hallway and made her journey far easier. Glancing towards the grandfather clock Scarlett saw with a start that it was half past two. No wonder she felt so tired. Why, she was closer to tomorrow than she was to yesterday! She descended the stairs carefully and made her way across the hall to the parlour. Once inside, she deposited Bonnie onto the soft armchair facing the doorway, and crossed the room to start up a fire in the grate.

Scarlett saw the fear in Bonnie's large blue eyes fade slightly as the room was bathed in the soft, amber glow of the flickering flames, and hurried to join her on the armchair. Bonnie snuggled eagerly back into her arms as Scarlett sat down, crawling up her lap and clasping her chubby arms securely round her mother's neck.

'Tell me a story, Mama,' she purred happily, her earlier nightmare seemingly forgotten.

Scarlett felt a stab of envy as she looked at her daughter, wishing that her own nightmares could be so easily dismissed.

'Mama!' Bonnie demanded, breaking Scarlett's reverie. 'A story, Mama!'

Scarlett stiffened. She wasn't very good at telling stories. That sort of thing had always been more Rhett's area of expertise. Besides, she was exhausted, and the plush velvet of the armchair provided the perfect pillow on which to rest her tired head. It was a struggle just to keep her eyes open.

As if reading her mind, Bonnie wriggled impatiently on Scarlett's lap. 'Daddy always tells me a story when I've had a nightmare to make me feel better.'

Scarlett groaned. It seemed that Bonnie was every bit as skilled at manipulating those around her as Scarlett herself had been as a child.

Torn between annoyance and a grudging sort of admiration, Scarlett wracked her sleepy mind for a tale she could tell. The task was made harder by the fact that she was determined not to tell a story that included Rhett, yet looking back over her life she found to her considerable annoyance that nearly all the most interesting parts contained him in one way or another.

Eventually she stumbled upon the memory of the time she'd fallen out with her parents and Mammy after she'd ripped her best dress while climbing a tree and, unwilling to listen to their scolding any longer, had hatched a brilliant plan to run away from home. She would have made it, too, if only she hadn't met the Tarleton twins on the lane. They'd managed to persuade her that they should tag along, and everything had quickly fallen apart. She could still remember the look of incredulous anger on Beatrice's face when she'd caught them rummaging for supplies in her pantry. Even more vivid in her memory was the sound of the smacks she had dished out to Brent and Stu, and which she'd threatened to give Scarlett if she didn't get her 'backside on back to Tara in the next ten seconds.'

Bonnie giggled at Scarlett's impression of Beatrice and the tale of her mother's daring, her light, tinkling laughter filling Scarlett with pride.

She preened, satisfied that her story had been such a resounding success. After it was told, however, Bonnie demanded another, and then another, until Scarlett's eyes began to droop. She drifted off into a deep sleep halfway through recounting the time she'd tricked Suellen into thinking she wasn't actually an O'Hara and had instead been found by Big Sam wandering the cotton fields as a toddler and taken in out of pity.

It was some considerable time later when the front door opened and a tired and irritated Rhett Butler stepped into the hallway. He'd lost more money than he cared to acknowledge at the poker table in Belle's saloon, but it was the blow to his pride that stung the most, especially as his defeat came at the hands of that pug-faced bully Johnnie Gallegher. But damned if the man hadn't goaded him until he could scarcely think straight, let alone keep his mind on his cards!

He'd just won the last two hands and was feeling pretty pleased with himself, when Johnnie -no doubt angry at having lost most of his month's salary in little over an hour- inquired in an all too innocent voice as to how Scarlett was keeping these days. Rhett barely credited the man with a glance as he replied that his wife was as indomitable as ever. The men round the table chuckled whilst some of the girls, including Belle, offered up sly sniggers at his remark.

The pleasant, jovial mood was cut abruptly short, when Johnnie said, 'Hasn't been up to my mill lately, is all. Although from what I gather from Wilkes, she's been visiting his pretty regular.' Rhett stiffened slightly at the mention of Ashley, his inner jealousy, never far from the surface these days, rearing its ugly head and breaking through his legendary self-control.

Sensing weakness like a shark senses blood, Johnnie leapt at the opportunity to sink his teeth in further. 'Course you can hardly blame the girl. If it was a choice between seeing my ugly mug every day or staring at Wilkes's fine features then I'd pick him, too.'

The atmosphere in the room grew frosty at his words and Rhett saw Belle's painted face cloud over with fear. From the corner of her eye, she threw him a knowing, warning look. As to how everyone else reacted Rhett didn't know. He was too preoccupied with trying to reign in his rapidly rising temper to pay them any mind. Struggling to maintain his composure and reassert his suddenly diminished authority, he replied, 'While I agree with the assessment of your unfortunate visage, Mr. Gallegher, luckily for you your business acumen is superior to your appearance, an accusation which unfortunately cannot be levelled against Mr. Wilkes. If my wife frequents his mill more regularly than your own it is for this reason and this reason alone. However, if you feel you are incapable of running the business without her constant guidance then I'd be happy to let Mrs. Butler know so that she can find a more capable replacement.'

Rhett's words accompanied by his uncompromising, glacial stare proved too much for Gallegher who shrivelled up when openly confronted as bullies are wont to do and began hastily retracting his earlier statement. But while he had managed to defeat his opponent verbally, the insinuations that he had made took root in Rhett's mind, filling his head with repellent images of his wife and her golden-haired beloved. Unable to concentrate properly on his hand, Rhett lost the next five games in a row and only avoided being cleaned out entirely when Belle, unwaveringly loyal as ever, informed them that all their talk had given her a right royal headache and she had no choice but to shut up shop early tonight.

As Rhett hung up his coat and hat he wondered at how he'd managed to buck society's trend yet again by being the only man in Atlanta with a mistress who was more faithful than his wife. He was about to head up the stairs for a much-needed rest when a gleam of light emanating out from under the parlour door caught his eye and halted him in his tracks. Though the idea of seeing Scarlett -no doubt out of bed enjoying one of her solitary nightcaps- when he was in this sort of mood was distinctly unappealing, the thought that she might have had one of her old nightmares crossed his mind and, with love winning out over common sense once again, he made his way slowly to the door.

Pushing it open he felt his heart stop as he took in the sight of the vision before him. With her hair flowing freely and her face softened by sleep, she reminded him of the younger, purer Scarlett he had known before the war had hardened her almost beyond recognition. A Scarlett who still needed him. A Scarlett who could still be his. Ironic, really, he mused, how our marriage, my one last bid to win her completely, had served only to push us further apart. So much so in fact that it was only in rare, unexpected moments such as these that he caught a glimpse of the woman he loved, a woman who scarcely seemed to exist anymore. At least not for me, he thought bitterly, Gallegher's earlier comments re-entering his head and threatening to tarnish even this small moment of happiness.

'Daddy!' came a tiny, terrified voice. Startled, Rhett managed to tear his eyes away from Scarlett long enough to notice his beloved Bonnie. Guilt wracked through him as he realised that he had been so entranced by his wife that he had neglected to notice that his daughter was perched upon her knee. Now that he studied her though, her pale complexion and red-rimmed eyes made his heart lurch with a dreadful sense of foreboding.

'Bonnie, what's wrong?' he asked almost reluctantly, unable to quell the sudden fear that whispered that this was one question he truly didn't want to hear the answer to.

'Mama's dead!' his baby cried, her entire body juddering as her sobs wracked through her tiny frame.

Rhett felt the floor open up beneath him as he plummeted through a dark and endless abyss towards his own, personal idea of Hell. Dead. Dead before he'd said goodbye. Before he'd won her heart. Before he'd apologised for forcing her into this ugly sham of a marriage, or told her that he loved her. That he had always loved her, since the very first moment their eyes had met.

No. She couldn't be. The words simply did not fit together. It was impossible that someone as alive as her could ever stop breathing. Surely she wouldn't look so beautiful if she was dead, her cheeks wouldn't be so rosy, her chest wouldn't…

Her chest wouldn't be rising and falling under her wrapper. She was still alive! In a peak of madness Rhett rushed forward and took Scarlett by the shoulders, shaking her violently until she jumped in her seat and opened her glorious emerald eyes. Rhett let out a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding as he realised that she was still with him. He watched her eyes narrow in anger, and grinned brightly, too relieved to mask his reaction.

Letting loose a laugh made deep by the extent of his relief, Rhett quipped, 'My dear, never have I been so glad to see you scowl at me!'