Hello world of GWTW fanfiction. I have missed you. I was recently thinking about how much I enjoyed fanfiction and it rekindled my love of both writing and GWTW. I am indeed Annie3 – however, it has been so long since I last logged in that I can no longer access my account. I can think of no way to prove that this is my story and that I am myself so I sincerely hope that you will all believe me (I would never dream of continuing someone else's story, as I'm sure you all wouldn't either). This was my favourite story that I wrote and so it seemed fitting that this was the one I would attempt to continue for my return to fanfiction. I have had to create another account and so this is the one I will be posting under from now on. The first part of this story is called Mutual and is under my old login name Annie3 and can be found here; s/4000969/1/Mutual – for this part to make sense it would be best to read that one first as this is a direct continuation.

This second part is very short for three reasons: i) I have to ease back in to writing fiction, it's been a long time, ii) I'm terrified that people will not believe this is truly me coming back and so this effort will not be worth it and iii) I just wanted to gauge if there is still any interest in this story and if it is worth continuing. Please let me know. It's good to be back.

...

"Scarlett", said Scarlett suddenly and emphatically - breaking the companionable silence that had become characteristic of their carriage rides.

Rhett glanced over at her, startled. Concerned that the heat was getting to her. But he decided to remain aloof in his response for fear of upsetting her further if something was truly wrong.

"Have you taken to addressing yourself in the third person my pet?" he asked. "Have you grown so tired of my conversation that you now intend to conduct both sides?" His voice was light and mocking but his eyes were trained sharply on her face, intensely searching for signs that something was amiss.

Scarlett was pulled from her musing by the slight edge she detected in his tone. Turning to look at him she saw the vaguest hint of the concern that he was trying so desperately to mask and she let out an abrupt, merry peal of laughter.

"Oh, Rhett, I'm so sorry. You look terrified" she said, unable to hide her mirth. "How odd that must have sounded, coming out of nowhere. The problem is, you always seem to know exactly what I am thinking, so sometimes I forget that you are not completely inside my head and I just start talking from the middle expecting that you'll know what I mean."

That was not the response he was expecting, and Rhett couldn't help but feel incredibly flattered by it. He, of course, believed that he knew Scarlett better than anyone, sometimes better than she knew herself. But he did not know that she recognised that. It pleased him to think that she acknowledged the bond that they shared, and that she didn't seem to resent, indeed she seemed to take pleasure in, the access he had to her innermost thoughts. This time, however, he did not have the slightest clue as to what she was talking about. "As charming as the idea of being inside your head is my dear, I'm afraid you will have to explain this one a bit further."

"Scarlett." Said Scarlett again, leaning forward in her seat slightly and gazing out into the distance at a place that didn't actually exist. "I think her name should be Scarlett."

Again, Rhett was confused. "You think who's name should be Scarlett my pet?"

"Our granddaughter's" said Scarlett, "I think it's only fair. After all, she'll be my granddaughter, and I was named after my grandmother." This was all said in the most matter of fact of tones, suggesting that Scarlett felt there was very little room for debate on the subject. And indeed she did feel that way. She had given the matter substantial thought. More thought than she cared to admit to herself.

Rhett felt that overwhelming flood of hope that conversations with Scarlett sometimes elicited from him but worked desperately to quash it. It had been two weeks since they had had that sombre, sweet conversation about their mutual grandchildren and while he genuinely believed that she enjoyed it, she had not made mention of it since. He, on the other hand, had given it a great deal of thought and he was surprised, and keenly interested to discover that it seemed that Scarlett had too. He decided to tread carefully, Scarlett was like a landmine sometimes – one minute conversation would be progressing pleasantly and the next she would explode and that would be the end of it. But this was a topic which he desired as much information as possible on, so he exercised caution in his response – hoping that his face did not betray the way he was feeling.

"An idea worthy of your vanity my pet." he said, forcing a chuckle so that she was not alerted to how seriously he was taking the conversation. He needn't have bothered, Scarlett was still gazing into the distance, imagining the beautiful, black-haired baby that had been dominating her thoughts of late. "But you are forgetting that she will be another woman's granddaughter too."

Scarlett's brow furrowed, but she continued to gaze ahead. "Oh, fiddle dee dee, who cares about her? She's my granddaughter. Well," she continued after a slight pause that could be interpreted as coy, "she's our granddaughter."

"Indeed she is Scarlett." He said, more willing than he'd ever admit to continue to play along. "And if she's as beautiful and lively as we imagined then I can think of nothing more appropriate than for her to be named after her beautiful and lively grandmother."

There was a pause during which Scarlett continued to stare ahead wistfully and Rhett thought furiously about how to best phrase the questions he so desperately wanted answers to without putting her on her guard.

Finally, unable to machinate a way to couch it, he just outright asked the question he needed an answer to. "Have you been thinking about her Scarlett?" His voice was soft, tentative. But the question was clear.

Scarlett cast her eyes down. Embarrassed. She had been thinking about her. She wasn't certain why. Not prone to introspection she had not delved her thoughts to uncover why she had been taking such delight in picturing a child that could never be. She had been wanting to discuss this with Rhett for some time. Ever since they had had that first conversation in fact. But she had refrained. Candour was the tone of almost all of her conversations with Rhett, it was why she so enjoyed talking to him. Because she could say whatever was on her mind, knowing he wouldn't judge her the way others would. Knowing it pleased him, in fact, to hear what she was truly thinking. But this conversation, even she recognised, was somehow different. Too intimate? Too improper? She wasn't sure why, but she knew it should be left alone. But as the weeks passed and the imagining hadn't ceased, she decided she could no longer keep her thoughts to herself.

"Yes." she replied. It was barely more than a whisper. "Yes, I have." Stronger now, with more conviction. She'd started this and there was no backing out. Frankly, she didn't want to back out.

"Why?" he asked, holding his breath, his hands gripping the reins, knuckles a stark white contrasting with his swarthy tan. Cautiously, hoping she wouldn't notice, he pulled on them slightly, slowing the horse, prolonging the journey – he didn't want this conversation to end.

...

Okay, so that was the second part of Mutual. Please let me know if you think it is worth continuing.

Annie