A/N: As usual, Bugsie is the best. Quack Quack :P

And to J.; Mr. Butler is getting rather jealous and wondering what appeal a man in a skirt can hold ;-)

Scarlett checked her basket; she had done all the groceries including buying a pot of original Georgia cotton honey that she needed to glace the cured ham that was waiting at Tara's icehouse for Rhett's return, plus a bar of the dark chocolate they sold at O'Hanley's only – she hoped to recreate one of Henrietta's deserts with it.

She did not like to leave the farm in the middle of the planting season and the idea that she might miss her husband's arrival altogether made her feel sick from anxiety but the retailers in Jonesboro had barely recovered from the war; they only sold the basic necessities, not the more luxurious goods she could find here.

Now the only other things she needed were a few items that – next to the many sweet words she planned to say to him – would help convince Rhett of her adoration for him. First on her list were his favourite cigars; uncle Henry had told her she needed to go to Buckhead's Tobacco & Cigars situated across the Girl of the Period Saloon. She had met with Henry to discuss her plans for the cement factory she wanted to set up. She had dreaded the meeting because she had feared that he would give her an earful about running off with Rhett. But he seemed amused by their elopement and only spent a few moments telling her that this was not the best thing for Wade Hamilton's family reputation. But he was not really that upset with her; he even asked her to bring Rhett with her the next time she visited. On top of that she had been relieved to find out from Uncle Henry that Ashley had been offered a job as an office clerk at Melly's insistence. Scarlett's dreams of her future with Rhett were only clouded by the fact that he and Ashley would be living under the same roof. If Ashley accepted a job in Atlanta surely he would want to move into Pitty's home; a home that was still partially owned by Scarlett. She would have a word with Melly on the subject as soon as she got home.

Scarlett had also taken the opportunity to check out a plot of land that Uncle Henry had directed her to; it was on the outskirts of Atlanta and it seemed to be a convenient place to build a little cement factory. Of course she and Rhett needed to collect his money first in London to be able to buy the property. That reminded her; she needed to stop by the post office on her way to the train station in order to confirm those tickets for the passage on the SS Great Britain. She was grateful that they only demanded a ten percent down payment on the fair; if not she would not have been able to purchase some of her shopping today.

Scarlett noticed that she had reached the saloon and she looked around to find the sign of the tobacco shop. A rather luxurious carriage swished by and Scarlett instantly identified the vehicle; in that same vehicle Rhett and she had fled Atlanta like two thieves in the night, all those months ago. She could not see who was in it, but she had no doubt that the woman in question was ogling her with similar curiosity. Did Rhett borrow money from Johan for their journey to London or did he plan to visit that Watling creature again and obtain the money from her? The idea made her feel uneasy and she quickly decided to postpone thinking about it for another day. She was certain that once she had convinced Rhett of her love for him he would not need that woman's company ever again.

After getting the price of a luxurious box of cigars down by no less than 25 percent - something she achieved by combining her female traits with a shrewd business sense – she set out on the rest of her journey. She also needed a roll of fine Brussels lace to improve her nightgowns with. She was certain that Frank's store sold that particular item but she was not inclined to visit her former fiancé's shop for that particular purchase. However, she knew of a small haberdashery in its vicinity that would provide her with high quality lace.

Inevitably she could not help but glance at the dowdy little Kennedy store when she walked past it. For a moment Scarlett wondered how that little shop could have looked like a safe haven once. God's nightgown, what if she had married Frank! Rhett would have been released from jail in the end, but she would have probably never seen him again. She went back in her mind to that day when she visited him in her green curtain frock. It had been an awful day and Scarlett felt some of the strain she had felt then just by reminiscing about it. But in between all those memories - that still stung her to this day - she also found one of a Rhett that had been gentle and kind. Humble even or at least he had given her that impression while he had bent his dark head over her hands.

Oh God, he would have moved heaven and earth to give me what I needed and all I did that day was toy with his feelings. Scarlett had not forgotten Rhett's own exceptional cruelty that time. He had made a fool out of her and then she had sworn she would never forgive him but – oh dear – what if the situation had been reversed? What if he came home to Tara now and acted the way she wanted him to act; kind, considerate, charming like a lover should. What if he did all those things and then when she laid down her heart for him he trampled on it; how would she react? She knew how she would act; she would be willing to commit murder; Rhett's violent anger had been held under a tight rein that day and she did not know if she possessed even a shred of his self-control.

Scarlett did not realize that she had been standing in the same place for the last five minutes. Frank had meanwhile emerged from his store and when he turned around - and noticed his former fiancée across the street - he turned pale. He was not certain of what to do. She seemed rather preoccupied and looked right through him. Was she here with that Butler man? He heard rumours that she was back at Tara, married to that no-good scoundrel from Charleston but his housemaid had informed him yesterday that Butler had not returned with her. Despite the fact that she had been a widow, Frank felt that she was still so young and innocent. Maybe she had been compromised by that man and therefore forced to marry him? And now that he had gotten what he wanted he had sent her back home to let her family deal with her broken heart and shattered reputation. Well, it was of no concern to him now. He had his fill of the O'Hara girls. He was about to walk to his carriage – parked a little bit further down the road -when Scarlett finally noticed him. She smiled so sweetly to him that he could not help but tip his hat off to her. However, before he would do something that he would regret forever he turned on his heels and walked quickly to his carriage.

Scarlett let out a sigh of relief; she did not know what she had expected of the gentle Frank Kennedy, but he had been as nice as ever. His appearance had shocked her somewhat; she had forgotten how old he was and she shivered involuntarily when she realized that as her husband he would have had right to more than the occasional peck on the cheek. She felt like dancing suddenly, lucky to have escaped such a fate, to have been taken on a whirlwind adventure by a gorgeous man instead. A man she came to love in the end.

She went into the store and quickly found some exquisite lace amongst the other sewing articles. She let the fabric slide through her fingers, enjoying the texture and imagining her husband doing the same while she was wrapped in his strong arms, breathless by his ardent kisses. She blushed, feeling a little silly for having these forbidden thoughts in broad daylight but when she closed the door of the shop behind her, her mind refused to return back to reality.

While she was on her way to Bramley's liquor store to buy a fine bottle of brandy for her husband, Scarlett's mind stayed in an altogether different place. In fact it was residing in a shady room somewhere in New Orleans. A room in which she had seen Rhett at his most daring, cleaning out an adversary in a poker game. But she had lived life in the fast lane herself that day too, when she managed to avert his arrest by forcing herself on him in a way that she still found shameful but oddly exciting at the same time. Kissing a man passionately in public, with Rhett's hands roaming her body in indecent places, was something she had never expected to do. But it was then he had given her one of the most thrilling kisses she had ever received from him. Of course the danger they had been in at the time must have added to that feeling. She smiled while she recalled how hard it had been for her husband to break away from those kisses; for once the epitome of control had lost his bearings and she now realized fully that it had nothing to do with the high volumes of liquor he had drunk but had only been due to his attraction to her.

She was in the best of moods and was certain that nothing could interrupt her euphoria. However, her clouded mind collided heavily with reality when she suddenly found herself standing in front of Mrs. Merriwether. A Mrs. Merriwether with a face so sour that she wondered if she had been forced to drink a whole bottle of vinegar recently.

'Scarlett Hamilton, I would like to have a word with you,' she said, her tone polite but her demeanour – including her two hands that were placed strategically on her wide hips – spelled that she was on the warpath.

'It is Scarlett Butler now, Mrs. Merriwether, as I am sure you have heard by now,' Scarlett said, deciding that the best defence is a good offense.

'Yes, I have, as a matter of fact. And because your own dear mother is dead and Miss Pitty, not being a matron, is not qualified to… er, well, to talk to you upon such a subject, I feel that I must tell you, Scarlett, that you might have made a terrible mistake. Captain Butler is not the kind of a man for any woman of good family to marry. He is a rogue. He always has been and now he's unspeakable. He is simply not the kind of man decent people receive.'

'No?' That's strange, Mrs. Merriwether. He was in your parlour often enough during the war. And he gave Maybelle the white satin for her wedding dress, didn't he? Or is my memory wrong?'

Mrs. Merriwether went on to defend herself, saying that things were different in wartime. This brought her to the subject that Rhett had been jeering at the men that enlisted at the time and had only used the war for his own gain. Scarlett was actually proud of that last trait and told the old lady so. She also defended him vehemently, claiming that he did enlist in the war; that he fought in the last campaign and was with General Johnston when he surrendered and that the fact that he did not get injured was only proof of his strength and cleverness.

Mrs. Merriwether was not impressed, if she believed Scarlett at all. She went on to complain about the awful predicament she had put Frank Kennedy in. Not only had the poor man broken his long-time engagement to Scarlett's sister, she had made a fool out of him when she had left town with a man that was no gentleman to begin with.

'Frank and I would have ended up making each other miserable; we are not suited for each other. While Rhett and I are. He has never cared for you and your busybody friends, except for Melly Wilkes that is, and she happens to count Rhett Butler amongst her friends. I suggest you follow her example; when Rhett returns to Atlanta I will be walking proudly on his arm. And soon we will be living in a house so grand that you cannot even image it and if you want to be invited to any of our parties there, you better start treating me and my husband with the respect that we deserve.'

'Well, Scarlett Butler, I know the people Rhett Butler associates with and I would not want to be seen dead at such a do.'

This remark startled Scarlett for a second but she soon regained her poise.

'Well, now that I think about it, I am not sure my husband would even welcome you under his roof; as I told you before he has never cared for you and the likes of you. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have more important matters to attend to. Goodbye,' Scarlett said curtly before she headed off to the Bramley's liquor store, her good mood of moments before forgotten.

Still bristling on the inside she strutted through the store, causing the bottles to clang against each other when walking past them. This time she managed to get a thirty percent reduction on the cost of a good bottle of brandy, but that had more to do with the hard look on her face – the one you meet above the barrel of a gun, as Rhett would say – than to her charming feminine ways.

**

Looking into the mirror that the store clerk had provided him with, Rhett regarded his image for a moment.

'Alright, I will take this one,' he said, touching the rim of his new panama hat. 'In fact I think I will start wearing it immediately.'

'Shall I pack your old hat in a box for you, Sir?' the clerk asked. Rhett looked at the leather hat; he bought it in Strawbridge to fit in with the other cowboys.

'No, you can keep it or throw it away; I won't need that anymore.' He gave the man a wide grin before he went to the counter to pay for his new headgear.

While he stepped out of the door, he took in the hustle and bustle that Canal Street provided. After being stuck in a small town like Strawbridge, New Orleans' liveliness was a bit overwhelming, even for him, but that was not to say that he did not enjoy the larger crowds.

No longer hindered by the female company they kept on their first journey, Rhett and Zephyr had made steady progress. Rhett usually stopped at some local inn where he managed to replenish the diminishing stack of dollar bills by doing a bit of gambling with the locals. This had once been his way of life and he had enjoyed the roaming around like a true vagabond but these days it did not hold the same magic. And this was not only due to the fact that this time he spent his nights above the different inns solitary and at the same time more in need of a woman's touch than ever before. He had realized upon this journey that he truly was ready to settle down; for the first time he longed to have a place to call home or at least a person that would make his choice of residence feel like a home. Well, when he was done with his business here in New Orleans he would take a straight line to Georgia and find out if Tara could be such a place. A place to call home, albeit temporarily.

He observed one of the streetcars swish by and that was why he did not notice how a woman was staring at him.

'Rhett,' she hissed to him. Rhett's sharp eyes looked around until his eye fell on a woman in a blue dress, matching bonnet and hair that lighted up like copper in the sun.

'Ali!' he said before he bent elegantly over her hand.

'Oh, don't play the gentleman with me, Rhett Butler,' she said with good humour. 'I take it from your presence here in one of New Orleans' busiest areas that you are no longer in trouble with the law?'

'If only you knew the half of it, Ali.' She looked at him questioningly but he refrained from giving more details. 'Yes, I am on my way to become a respectable citizen, Ali, who would have guessed.'

'Well, not me, that is for sure,' she laughed. 'Is Scarlett with you or have you gotten tired of married life already and decided to take a trip to get away from it all.' She said it in a joking fashion but Rhett could tell that the idea did not please her at all.

'You met Scarlett, Ali; do you think a man can tire easily of her?'

'No, I guess not,' she said, smiling.

'Scarlett is at home with her son. When I am finished here I will be joining them.' Ali started giggling.

'What's so funny about that?'

'Oh, there is nothing funny about it, Rhett. It was the look on your face. I swear I have never seen a man more enchanted with his bride than you are, my friend.'

Rhett smiled a bit sheepishly.

'How is Tom? Did he recover well from our, er, last encounter?' He knew he should not sound so smug about it but next to marrying Scarlett, beating Tom Walker by playing a dirty card trick on him, must have been one of the most satisfying things he did while being on the run.

'Tom is doing very well for himself, that little card game barely dented his fortune.' Ali said while she put her chin up. Rhett smiled at her.

'Well, I am glad to hear that, if only because I would hate such a pretty lady as you to go without a few fine dresses and such.' He let his eyes sweep over her womanly figure and to his delight he saw the blush on her cheeks deepen.

'I guess a drink for old-times' sakes is still out of the question?'

'Tom included? Yes, I highly doubt he would appreciate that.'

'Well, if it is all the same to you, Ali, do not tell him or anybody else that you saw me here today. I am here to do some business and I would hate for anybody to get wind of it.'

'Still wheeling and dealing, Rhett? I thought by now you would have made such a fortune that you would not have to work a day in your life again if you did not want to. You always said you would.' Rhett gave her a smile but his face revealed nothing else.

'Well, who is to say that I have to work. Maybe I just enjoy this particular bit of wheeling and dealing, my sweet Mrs Walker.'

They both chatted some more before Rhett told her that he was late for a meeting and needed to go. He promised to look her up the next time he was in New Orleans and then went on his way.

**

Rhett had been sitting in a corner of the bar for a few hours already and just when he started to think that he gambled wrongly, he saw the man enter the room. He seemed to be coming from upstairs, which would explain for his long absence earlier that night. Rhett remembered from his blockading days that The Parrot & The Plank used to be Eugene Sparrow's favourite establishment and realizing that he had been with a girl upstairs all this time triggered a forgotten memory. During the war there had been the case of murder in this same establishment. One of the whores living above the saloon – a petite French brunette – had been found strangled one morning. Back then, during the broiling time of war, the murder had remained unsolved, but Rhett was sure that Eugene Sparrow had been one of her regulars. His hand clenched more tightly around his glass of bourbon.

The little bastard must have been getting away with this sort of behaviour for years, he mused. It was time somebody put a stop to it.

Abruptly he got up, let a few dollar bills fall on the counter and retrieved his hat – all in one motion – before he left the premises.

Rhett had already finished the best part of his cheroot when he finally saw Sparrow's stocky frame emerge from the saloon.

Thinking himself alone, he tugged at his suspenders, farted and subsequently let out an equally loud belch. Then he went on his way. Rhett stood in the shadowy corner for a while longer to see which direction Sparrow took and then he started walking briskly towards a street that lay parallel to that one. Rhett – graced with long legs - was not only faster but also in better shape because he could hear Sparrow wheezing from a fairly large distance when he met up with him.

'He looks like one of those fat pigs that Henrietta keeps in her backyard,' he softly said to himself while he watched the other man approach.

'Mr. Sparrow!' Rhett's voice suddenly echoed through the dark night. 'What a surprise to meet you here!'

Eugene's step faltered. He looked uncertain of what to do and cast a longing glance into the direction of the bar he had just left. The hour was late; there was not another soul in sight. Carefully he glanced up into Rhett Butler's face. A face that seemed kind; devoid of the harshness he had often seen on it in the past.

'I was hoping to run into you,' were Butler's matching friendly – and surprising – words.

'Yes, don't look so amazed, my friend, 'Rhett continued, before Eugene could utter a word.

He tapped Eugene amicable on his shoulder and gave him an almost invisible nod, indicating that they should progress their journey together. And somehow Eugene's feet made the decision for him when he fell into Butler's pace alongside him.

'My wife has told me all about you,' Rhett said, causing Eugene to stagger slightly.

'Your… Your wife?' was all that he could stammer.

'Yes, my wife.' Butler answered, raising his eyebrows slightly when he turned his head towards Eugene. 'I know I was kind of short with you that day that I was held by the Yankees back in Texas; let's say that I have had better days.' Rhett let out a dry chuckle that made Eugene believe he truly regretted that episode. 'But now I appreciate all the things you did for her. 'After that Rhett remained quiet and Eugene felt the need to make a similar gesture.

'Well, Captain Butler, all I did was showing your wife some kindness. After all, we were all strangers in that faraway Texan town…'

'Yes, I know just how kind you were,' Rhett said, his face unreadable in the light of the street lantern but a spark in his dark eyes made Eugene draw back somewhat. 'And that is why I want to put some business your way,' he continued in a velvety voice that belied the menacing look he just gave Eugene.

'Some business?' Eugene said, his surprise evident in his own features.

'Yes, I want to extend a hand as it were; I know things went horribly wrong between us during the war – business-wise that is – and as a way to make it up to you I would like to make you part of a rather lucrative deal I made earlier.'

Eugene hesitated only a moment before he let go of his reservations – greed winning out - and asked Butler what particular kind of business he was talking about.

'Oh, not here,' Rhett said while looking around with clear concern on his face. 'It is my experience that New Orleans has eyes and ears everywhere. Let's walk a bit until we reach the less urban part of town.'

Eugene noticed that Butler was leading him towards New Orleans' large harbour. A place he probably knew well from his days as the Charleston Neptune; the most daring blockade runner the South had ever seen. He saw it as a sign that Butler had been sincere when talking about making amends. He could hardly believe his luck; not only was Butler offering him some profitable business, he also seemed to be unaware of Eugene's private visit to his Strawbridge home. He had fled Texas as soon as he learned that Scarlett Butler survived their encounter. But it seemed Butler's wife had not been able to identify him or maybe she had been too frightened of her gorilla-like husband to tell him the details.

It remained a fact that Butler did not hang for his crimes despite all Eugene's efforts in securing that sentence. Eugene regretted that fact tremendously. However, misleading Butler regarding the intimate knowledge he had of the man's wife was almost as satisfying

Eugene felt so pleased with himself that he noticed too late that the dock seemed rather abandoned. On this cloudy night and with streetlights absent it also lay practically in complete darkness. He thought he could feel wooden beams under his soles and when he listened closely all he could hear were the thunderous waves that seemed to be all around them now.

Butler had not spoken for some time now. He could not tell his mood; he was only able to see the man's massive silhouette but that was hardly a reassuring sight.

'I think we have left the houses far enough behind us now, Captain Butler, ' he quipped nervously. 'I am ready to talk some business now.'

'Is that so?' Butler retorted, a note of indifference in his voice.

'Yes, I certainly am, ' Eugene said, doing his utmost to keep his tone friendly. 'If you don't mind me asking, Captain Butler; where in God's name are we?'

'Oh, I doubt if God will give you the answer to that…' Rhett mumbled. 'So you want to know where we are?' Rhett said, louder now.

'Yes, I don't think I have been in this part of the harbour before. And, if it is all the same to you, since it is a rather damp and chilly night; I would prefer it if we could discuss this over a glass of whiskey or at least anywhere…'

'No!' Rhett's voice cut through the darkness, his tone suddenly as cold as the foggy air surrounding them. Eugene was shocked into silence.

'I will tell you where we are, Eugene.'

Sparrow could see Rhett's bulky shape shift and soon the tall man stood right in front of him. The pale moonlight reflected in the water and Butler was close enough for Eugene to make out his features.

His breath caught when he noticed the eerie shadow that lay on Butler's face.

Suddenly this look changed; Butler seemed to be smiling. However, it was not a pleasant smile.

'We have arrived in hell, my friend,' he said merrily. 'And I am no angel of mercy. In fact; I will be the one to cast your soul to Satan. Where it belongs,' he added with some satisfaction.

It was only then that Eugene noticed the gun in Butler's hand.