Return to Me

by She's a Star

Summary: Determined to get Rhett back, Scarlett travels to Charleston and confronts him, hoping desperately that he can still find it in his heart to love her.

Disclaimer: Gone With the Wind isn't mine. *sighs* If only.

Author's Note: I had to write this, seeing as I truly adore the movie. It's not all that spectacular, though; if you want something magnifique, read Under the Lilacs by karadarlin.

Dedication: To Rita, Gone With the Wind Goddess. :)

~*~

Scarlett O'Hara/Hamilton/Kennedy/Butler was a force that anyone with half a brain cell didn't want to reckon with. She was as reckless as she was captivating, and once she set her sights on something she wanted, there was no point in even attempting to tell her that she wouldn't get it.

Because of course, she always did.

Many could think back with amusement to when she was only sixteen, her main goal in life then being to make as many young men fall in love with her as she could at once and keep them all smitten with her for as long as possible.

Her quest for that fine Sunday afternoon was, in an ironic twist of fate, rather like those she'd embarked on back at sixteen. But this mission was also completely different from the ones she'd playfully set up for herself back so many years ago, then for the sheer entertainment value rather than any actual emotional attachment:

This time, she was positive her heart would break if she didn't once again enrapture Rhett Butler with her charms.

Of course, she'd never admit this to anyone. Scarlett didn't like to admit that she needed anyone besides herself; even admitting it in her own mind had been a bit painful.

But if only I'd admitted it earlier, she thought morosely to herself. Then I wouldn't be alone. Then I wouldn't have risked losing him...

The other side of her conscience, which reminded her greatly of her father, fiery little Irishman Gerald O'Hara, retorted passionately, Oh, don't you dare think like that, Katie Scarlett! You needn't do more than flutter your eyelashes and he'll be downright smitten with you once more!

This would have held perfectly true to her....

If it was anyone else.

But Rhett Butler certainly wasn't like any other man she'd ever known. He played the part of the suave and debonair gentleman to perfection, but his biting sarcasm and rich, infuriating laugh betrayed to those who knew him well enough that he was more scoundrel than charismatic millionaire.

Though, of course, his charm never managed to waver, which annoyed Scarlett to high heaven and back again.

"Why am I even in love with him?" she mumbled distastefully to herself, lifting her rosebud pink taffeta skirts as she climbed from her carriage.

But in her heart, she already knew the answer: she ought to be able to recite it, for Rhett had reminded her what seemed to be millions of times since they'd first met.

Because we're alike, his voice rang through her head, smooth and self-assured and, as always, including the tiniest trace of amusement. Bad lots, both of us, selfish and shrewd, but able to look things in the eyes and call them by their right names.

"Oh, Rhett," she murmured to herself, shaking her head as the bittersweet memories danced through her mind, and wondering when she'd started to love him so passionately without even realizing it.

It hadn't been love at first sight, that much was certain. Their first conversation had been hardly romantic.

"You, sir, are no gentleman!"

"And you, Miss, are no lady."

Behind her, she could hear Mammy's low, gravelly voice order her, "Now, Mis' Scarlett, you bring Mist' Rhett back to Tara! It ain' the same without 'im!"

A fond smile danced around lush pink lips as she stood up taller, straightened her ebony tresses, and, with the daintiness of the young southern belle she'd used to be, pushed open the door of the hotel. There was no doubt Rhett would be staying there; it was extravagant, expensive, and the best there was.

Rhett would settle for nothing but the best.

"Yes, Miss?" the young lad behind the front desk asked, studying her with poorly hidden admiration.

A winning smile that had won many a heart over the years blossomed on her face, and she responded sweetly, "Is there a Mr. Rhett Butler staying here?"

After briefly consulting the book recording the guests at the hotel, hand shaking as he turned the pages, the young man informed her, "Yes, Miss, he's in room 14. Should I call him down for you?"

"Oh, no, please don't bother," Scarlett said, not able to resist fluttering her dark eyelashes at the boy. He looked rather faint, and an amused satisfaction swelled inside of her. It was somehow reassuring to know that even after all she'd been through, she was still as alluring as she'd always been.

The light swish of her skirts filled her ears as she proceeded to climb the grand staircase up to the first floor of hotel rooms. She entered the hall, pale green eyes lightly studying the brass plaques proclaiming the room number.

6....8...10...12...

Scarlett stopped moving at once as she stood in front of room 14, nervousness engulfing her.

Oh, Scarlett, honestly, don't be afraid, she scolded herself. It's only Rhett...you're such a child.

"My darling, you're such a child. You think that by saying 'I'm sorry' all the errors and hurts of years past can be remedied..."

A shiver ran up and down her spine, and she inwardly cursed the memories of the night he'd left her for coming back to haunt her so undauntingly.

"He will have me back," she proclaimed aloud. "He still loves me, I know he does."

And with that, before her fear could take over her and cause her to turn back, Scarlett rapped her knuckles lightly on the door.

"Come in."

At the sound of his voice, all reason seemed to disappear without a trace, and Scarlett's heartbeat quickened to twice its normal rate.

Turn back, turn back! He'll never know you came in the first place!

No, stay! This is your only chance, Scarlett!

Turn back! There's no use risking your pride! There are other men!

Don't you love him, Scarlett?

Inhaling shakily, she turned the brass doorknob and slowly swung open the door, wishing that she could leave all worries behind in the hallway but in honesty feeling more terrified than she had before.

Rhett was standing in the corner, a cigar held carelessly between two fingers. He seemed to be studying one of the paintings on the wall, and made no hurry to turn around and look at her.

Scarlett wasn't complaining; it gave her all the more time to instruct her knees to stop threatening to collapse from under her.

"Mrs. Butler."

He'd known it was her.

He'd known she would come for him.

Of course.

"Rhett," she returned evenly, glad that her voice sounded cool and unfeeling rather than possessing all the nervousness that had taken over the rest of her.

He turned around slowly, casually, with all the infuriating self-confidence in the world.

Scarlett didn't know whether she wanted more to slap him or kiss him.

"So you've found me," he drawled, sinking easily into an armchair, eyes dancing with mirth as they pierced into her.

"It wasn't hard," Scarlett retorted irritably. "All I had to do was find the first ridiculously overpriced, overly glitzy hotel I could, and there's no doubt you'd be there. I'm surprised you don't have a girl to match."

With a hearty chuckle that sent tingles of annoyance throughout her body, Rhett announced, "I'm not one to be unfaithful to my wife, regardless if she returns the favor or not."

"Oh, Rhett," she cried, torn between anger and affection. "You know I would never be unfaithful to you! I loved you all along!"

"Well, my dear, you did a fantastic job at hiding it," he declared, taking a drag on his cigar.

"Rhett, I never cared for Ashley!" she proclaimed, tears of emotion springing to her eyes. "I didn't even know him, not really; I didn't understand him! Not like I understand you."

"Oh," Rhett said nonchalantly, standing from his chair and coming towards her. "So that's what you're looking for? Understanding? As if it could take place of love in our marriage?"

"You're terrible!" Scarlett announced. "I do love you, Rhett. We belong together! How many times did you tell me that? I swear, I can't even count them!"

"People change with time," Rhett responded with a heavy sigh, now so close that Scarlett couldn't help but long to feel his arms around her. There was a security in his arms that she could get nowhere else: it was thrilling, exciting, and yet nothing could comfort her more.

"Oh, Rhett, you haven't changed!" Scarlett said passionately, resting her hand on his arm. "You couldn't have changed, not after you loved me so for so long!"

"I wouldn't bet on it," Rhett said shortly, his eyes boring into hers.

"Oh, why must you do this to me?" Scarlett asked miserably, tears beginning to spill down her flawless cheeks. A wry smile twisting up his lips, Rhett pulled a handkerchief from his jacket and handed it to her. She accepted it, then dabbed at her eyes softly.

With an audible sniffle, she continued. "Rhett, all you ever seemed to want was for me to love you, and now that I'm telling you that I always did, you won't even listen!"

"Do you want to know why I'm not listening?"

"I know why," she sniffled, face buried in the small bit of white fabric. "You told me, remember? You don't give a damn."

"No," said Rhett. Scarlett looked up to see his eyes twinkling with the ever-present laughter, and a strange sort of compassionate yearning that she hadn't experienced before and didn't want to again surged through her.

"No," Rhett repeated, louder this time. "I'm not listening because I don't want to throw my heart back to be ripped to shreds."

"Oh, Rhett, you know that I'd never do that to you!" Scarlett protested desperately. "I only want to love you, not to hurt you-"

"Do you know what it's like, to love a woman so much that you'd do anything for her, all the while haunted with the knowledge that she loves another man? Another man who would never even give her the time of day?"

"You'll never know how sorry I am for that! Rhett, I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry!" Scarlett began to cry again, but she still kept her eyes fixed on him. "And I know that 'I'm sorry' doesn't mean anything, but I swear it, Rhett, I'll never hurt you again! I'd rather die than hurt you."

He smiled, a bitter smile that pained her heart for a reason she couldn't begin to fathom.

"I can't bring myself to believe that," he announced. "Scarlett Butler, you wouldn't die for anyone or anything in the world."

"But I would!" she argued passionately. "I would, Rhett, I would!"

As her own words echoed through her mind for a moment, she realized with shock that they were true.

He furrowed his brow, an expression that Scarlett couldn't even begin to read taking over his face. After what seemed to be a lifetime of silence, he replied.

"My dear, I want to believe you," he said, voice so smooth that it seemed to caress her soul. "But..."

"But nothing, Rhett!" Scarlett exclaimed at once. "All I want is for you to return to me!"

He studied her solemnly for a moment before his soft, rolling laughter filled the room. It grew louder, and Scarlett felt her cheeks light up in embarrassed indignation.

"What?!" she asked defensively.

Shaking his head, he responded laughingly, "Mrs. Butler, I don't think it's possible for me to ever stop loving you."

With that proclamation, Scarlett's heart seemed to soar, and without pausing for a second, she flung herself into his arms.

"Oh, Rhett!"

Her lips found his instinctively, and as soon as they joined together in a passionate kiss, fireworks seemed to explode around them. Even the few stolen kisses she and Ashley had shared had never given her such an intoxicating sensation, and somewhere in the back of her mind, she'd always known that Rhett was the only one she was meant to kiss.

As they pulled apart, Scarlett rested her head on his shoulder and whispered softly, "You know what, Rhett?"

"Hmm?"

Voice small, timid, and very unlike her own, she responded, "You know, I reckon I never really loved Ashley."

Rhett's response came in the form of laughter; warm, affectionate, and teasing, and in a moment, the sweet peal of Scarlett's own joined his, ringing throughout the room.

FIN