Author's Note: Yes, my Sunny, Funny Ficathon entry has been posted at last. I hope that it satifies. Thank you to Monsieur Andre and skyebugs for pointing out my arachronism. Oops! Enjoy Rhett's Adventure in Wonderland!


The Queen of Hearts: Of Brandy and Books

Their conversation from the night before had been running through his head all day, even while he was walking back to his hotel from the warehouse he had been conducting business in all that day. Scarlett, the widow who was still sweet and seventeen, who had a child but was little more than a child herself, was fascinating. She had been courted by dozens of bachelors, already had buried a husband, and lusted after the husband of her closest female friend and sister-in-law. Rhett wandered into a bookstore, still caught up in his musings over that belle.

And now how he wanted her. She, the woman who had no heart for the Cause of the Confederacy, who only gave it lip service because of her infatuation with a certain one of its soldiers. She, the woman whose husband was rotting in a Carolina grave. If Rhett hadn't seen the ring on Scarlett's finger and her black crepe mourning costume, he would never would have guessed that Scarlett had been married at all. Her mourning costume was just that; Scarlett's was acting the part of a widow as if she was acting in a pantomime. Except that even the cheapest actress was still better than Scarlett ever could be. In their one conversation the night before, Rhett had found more ammunition then most people could find in a year; he could get Scarlett riled. He just needed another opportunity. He would see her again soon, he was certain.

Now, to try to get her out of his head: that would take a decent distraction. Rhett rummaged through the books on the small shelf. What had he here? Alice in Wonderland. Rhett wasn't sure if it had been published yet, but he bought the slim but overpriced (and anachronistic) volume and slipped it into a pocket. Perhaps Rosemary would like it. It was nowhere near Christmas, but his sister deserved a gift now and then. In fact, Rosemary wasn't much older than Scarlett. They had the same drive and determination, but the similarities ended there. Rosemary was muscled and dark where Scarlett was pale and slim. Rosemary spent much of her days pouring over books and raging against the social constraints set for the women of their time. Yet, Scarlett was beginning to rail against them too, while still maintaining her charming and mannered ways.

After arriving back at the hotel, Rhett had a long dinner then played cards at the saloon long into the night. He couldn't possibly visit Belle when he had Scarlett completely on his mind. After losing, and then winning back, a small fortune with a straight that led off with the Queen of Hearts, Rhett retired for the night. His mind was nowhere near ready to rest, however. Sipping a brandy, Rhett slung himself over an armchair. He twisted, trying to get comfortable, but the contents of his pocket dug into his hip.

Rhett pulled the book from his pocket and flipped through it. He had not read Alice in Wonderland before--in fact, no one had. Vaguely interested, Rhett flipped through it. One illustration in particular caught his attention: Alice playing croquet with the Queen of Hearts. Nothing to remind him of Scarlett here. Or was there? Something nagged at the back of his mind, something he had said at the bazaar the night before. Now his eyelids were getting heavy—too much brandy, Rhett thought to himself before drifting to sleep.