A/N: This is my first foray into Gone with the Wind fanfiction since, I believe, 1997 (when I was about ten :)). I'm pretty excited about it! :)

Yes, this story is a modern day one, for various reasons, specifying which would make this note way too long. No, it's not a play-by-play retelling of the book. However, Scarlett is still pining for Ashley, and Rhett is trying to get her for himself (and we all know why :)).

Chapter One: Encounters

Scarlett O'Hara congratulated herself. How stylish could someone be for a hike? Well, not much, that was for sure. But how hot? Well, certainly not hotter than her. She threw yet another sparkling smile at the mirror that covered an entire wall of her spacious, bright-colored bedroom.

Her raven-black hair was seemingly carelessly tied into a high ponytail, referenced in women's magazines as "the sexy style which is a must-have for this spring" or something along these lines. The pale green tank top which matched her eyes perfectly and the black denim micro shorts hugged closely her more-than-well-placed curves. She put her hands on her waist, and a smug grin revealing her perfect teeth crawled upon her face. Ah, all those hours on the treadmill had definitely paid off! Her waste was abso-fucking-lutely amazing! For a moment, she wondered idly how many girls in the entire States had waist measurements comparable to hers. The only downside, if there was one, to having such an unbelievably slim waist was the fact that the rest of her frame was equally petite. Scarlett often regretted not being taller. But, on the other hand, being five feet three and so slender, she could always tell men how fragile she felt beside them. On such occasions, she never failed to add how safe she felt beside them at the same time. This was one of the tactics that had never let her down.

"Men are so simple that it's fascinating," she thought, sinking into a hot pink bean bag and putting a pair of white Wayfarers at the same time.

Yet, she had to admit that there was a man that wasn't an open book to her. Each time she thought she had him finally figured out and that it was just a matter of hours or even minutes when he would fall down on his knees (okay, okay, that part was maybe exaggerated in her imagination a bit) and profess his love for her, he would hide himself in his shell again and she would stay alone, puzzled and frustrated. And that hurt. It wasn't that he didn't feel anything for her. He did. He had to. No man remained indifferent to her charms. Ever. Especially if she consciously used them to her advantage, as it was the case when it came to him. Ashley Wilkes, however, somehow always managed to wriggle out of her grasp…

"But today he won't! Today's the day," she said sottovoce, glancing at the clock on the opposite wall. Those Tarleton brothers were late again. She ought to have known better than to ride to the meeting point with them. Granted, they were late about a minute and a half, but still...

She puffed her breath out. Then she effortlessly focused her thoughts on Ashley again. Yes, the day finally came. They had been dancing this strange one-step-forward-two-steps-backward dance long enough, ever since he came home from his PhD studies in Philosophy at the Sorbonne. Scarlett, for one, loved seduction games, but this one was dragging on for too long. If she was in love with him and he was in love with her - and they were, she nodded to herself approvingly - what was the point in waiting any longer? She wanted him now, without any further delay. And she, as anybody who knew her could confirm, was the kind of a girl who achieved anything she set her mind on, especially if it involved a man-

The sudden squeal of tires just outside her window made her jump a little. The sound obviously meant that Stuart and Brent arrived at last. She knew she was right when she heard the doorbell. She didn't hurry downstairs, though. No, if they were late, they would have to wait for her at least a few minutes. To tell the truth, she would have kept them waiting even if they had come in advance. She simply was like that - she liked to feed men's anticipation and then show up enjoying her brilliant looks and the effects they had on them. But this time she didn't wait long. The Tarleton twins weren't important right now. And their admiration for her person was not subject to change, at least not in the near future, anyway. Today they were only a means for her to get to her golden-haired knight, and she was eager to see him as soon as possible, so she fairly swiftly danced down the stairs, waving hi to Stu and Brent.

"No wonder you two failed all your exams this term," she said between the light kisses she planted on their cheeks, "I bet you were late for them, too."

The boys, well, men actually, were three years older than Scarlett - which made them almost twenty-eight - but were still in their third year at law school. As a matter of fact, this was the third law school they'd attended, as the first two kindly asked them to find a university better suited to them.

"Ha-ha, very funny, Scarlett," Brent Tarleton remarked in a somewhat caustic tone, but the look on his face was that of pure adoration. He bowed a little, not wanting to miss a perfect opportunity to peck her on the cheek.

Next to him, Scarlett's youngest sister Carreen, who was home from college on spring break, silently watched as a strand of his red hair and then his lips brushed against Scarlett's magnolia-white skin. Then she turned away on her heel and left for the living room, again in silence. She hated herself for being such an unattractive and unnoticeable little thing. Brent had been talking to her so nicely and warmly before Scarlett entered, and he sounded genuinely interested in her plans to get a master's degree in Music Performance… But, of course, as soon as her oldest sister showed up, she became as interesting as that little spider in the far left corner of the hall. And she found it natural - Scarlett was thin in an appealing way and had no freckles all over her face. And she was full of life, and… Oh, but Scarlett also knew how much she liked Brent! Why didn't she-

"He again ditched you as soon as she appeared, huh?" Carreen's other sister interrupted her thoughts.

Carreen looked up and saw Suellen sitting in a chair next to her old Steinway, a mixture of bitterness and pity on her face. For, Susan Elinor didn't love her older sister Scarlett much. She envied her for various reasons – her beauty, her popularity, her clothes. And her being Pa's pet. That was why Suellen loved to gossip about Scarlett behind her back, and now she saw another nice opportunity to do that. She was also a bit content because she was not the only one from whom Scarlett had - inadvertently or not - taken a (potential) suitor. But she also pitied her baby sister Caroline Irene a little because she knew the feeling all too well... Ah, luckily, she had Frank now! And he'd never trade her for Scarlett. He was a real man, one who was able to see behind the appearances… What Suellen would never willingly confess was that Scarlett would never look twice at Frank Kennedy, who was a bland fellow, much closer to his forties than thirties.

"Scarlett is so insensitive," continued Suellen after a moment of reflection, her eyes glimmering with the need to trash-talk her absent sister, who hadn't borrowed her that strapless emerald-green mini dress last weekend.

But Carreen, as usual, wasn't in the mood for such talks.

"Please, not now, Suellen." was all she said before sitting at the piano and starting to play a piece her musically inept sister recognized as something by Beethoven… or maybe Mozart. Well, some dead guy, anyhow.

When Scarlett and the twins made it to the hike meeting point, her eyes started franticly scouring the crowd for Ashley. She was hoping to find him right away and persuade him to stay with her under a sunshade, drinking lemonade sold by the scouts and enjoying the not too hot weather. He was the only reason why she came in the first place. He'd sounded so enthusiastic about this whole thing that she pretended she adored hiking, too. The truth was that she was horrified at the thought of trekking through the woods for more than a few hours, sweating, getting muddy and being attacked by all sorts of insects. The days she'd spent climbing trees with Ashley and other boys from the neighborhood were a distant past, and she couldn't remember when she last was in the woods. Working out in her air-conditioned home gym, devoid of bugs and other nasty creatures was bearable. Actually, it occasionally felt great. But this… This was a whole new ballgame.

She noticed that Stuart Tarleton was telling her something, but the words never reached her brain. She was still searching for Ashley, certain that she could never miss him - she would know him among a million. He was so elegantly built, so tall- For an instance, from the corner of her eye, she spotted another tall man.

"God's nightgown!" she murmured under her breath.

That despicable Rhett Butler had the most irritating habit of appearing everywhere, out of nowhere. She hated the way he looked at her - like he saw right through her… and right through her clothes. Nevertheless, she took her time to appraise his built. The pair of jeans which didn't look indecently expensive, but which she pegged as custom-made at The Stronghold, and a plain black T-shirt looked deliciously on him. And the black Aviators he sported fitted him more than well… Scarlett almost hated him for looking so good when he was such an utter jerk.

She saw him taking his sunglasses off and looking in her direction. He nodded in greeting, and - although she couldn't see the expression in them from that distance - she felt as if his coal black eyes were boring holes inside her. Oh, he truly was insufferable, so rude, such… such a varmint!

Infuriated, though not precisely sure why, she used the fact that she was still wearing sunglasses to pretend she was looking elsewhere. After all, they even weren't exactly colleagues, and she had no slightest intention to let him take away from her valuable time with Ashley. Ashley… She still couldn't locate him among all these people.

As if on cue, he appeared right behind her.

"Katie!" Mr. Wilkes greeted her more calmly than not, and Katie Scarlett rushed to skillfully offer her cheek for a kiss.

Had anybody else called her Katie, she would have barked, but he was allowed to use her childhood nickname. It dated from the time she'd hated Scarlett, as the only nick other children could think of was Scar. Today she adored the exoticness and femininity of her, technically, middle name, and she had long ago forbidden everyone to call her Katie. It sounded so childish and so inappropriate for such a pretty and successful young woman.

As Ashley proceeded to exchange greetings with the Tarletons, Scarlett suddenly found herself eye in eye with a person whom she hadn't thought she'd meet that day, and whom she certainly didn't have any desire to meet. Equally petite ("But without any curves whatsoever," Scarlett thought evilishly.), Melanie Hamilton was staring at her with her big brown eyes.

"Hello, Melanie," Scarlett forced herself to say, trying hard not to roll her eyes. She simply couldn't understand why Ashley was constantly dragging this lifeless, mealy-mouthed pain in the ass with him. Okay, okay, they worked together at the college, but - great balls of fire! - didn't she have any other… acquaintances? "Well, probably not," malice spoke into her ear again.

A huge, warm smile lit up Melanie's indistinctive features as she shyly returned the greeting.

Not having enough nerves to continue any kind of conversation with the little house mouse in an ill-fitting grayish tracksuit, Scarlett turned to the object of her dreams.

"Ashley, I have to talk to you about something," she said sweetly, taking off the sunglasses, so that she could bat her eyelashes at him.

"Me too, Katie, me too," he retorted, smiling irresistibly, as Scarlett thought, and her heart began to thump against her ribcage so violently that she even failed to notice the warmest of looks he cast not at her but at Melanie.

A/N, part 2: As I often say… Please tell me how you like it so far. Tell me if you love it. Tell me if you hate it. Tell me if you're indifferent to it. Tell me if you notice a typo. Tell me if you notice anything awkward. Tell me whatever you like, via a PM if you don't feel like leaving a review. If you don't, I cannot improve.