Another Lost Cause
by JLT
Disclaimer: I do not own the characters Rhett, Scarlett, Ashley etc. or anything dealing with Gone With the Wind or Margaret Mitchell
"Maybe it's because I've always had a weakness for lost causes, once they're really lost…"
-Rhett Butler, GWTW (movie version)
* * *
So it was true; of course it was. Only her foolish pride had kept her from believing it completely. Scarlett felt the pit of her stomach grow cold, and she briefly recalled her earlier relief when she'd believed he was at Belle Watlings. Now she felt anything but relief; she felt betrayed in a way that she couldn't ever recall feeling.
He didn't give a damn. He had simply used her, just as he would any other woman in that creatures establishment. And here she had thought- he'd even said- …and her conceit and vanity had allowed her to believe those foolish things. But she wasn't about to let him even suspect what thoughts had ran through her mind. No, by God, he would never even imagine.
Rhett stood across from her, watching her attentively, as she digested his words, watching the many changes her face succumbed to. Shock, hopelessness, anger, and confusion, finally ending in hatred.
"Pray tell me your thoughts, Mrs. Butler. I'm dying of curiosity," he drawled with a smirk.
She looked up at him, eyes sparkling with challenge. "I thought I told you that you're not welcome in my room. Get out." His brows furrowed in confusion for a moment before he scowled at her darkly.
Scarlett returned his look and spoke with poison coming across in her voice, "Why aren't you leaving? What must I say now? That I hate you, hate you with every inch of my being and that I'll hate and despise you for the rest of my life?" She continued cruelly. "Surely you must have realized that by now. So why don't you just run back and moon after your whore, so I can continue to moon after Ashley in peace." A wave of triumph washed over her as she saw the hurt and outrage pass over his face briefly before they were covered once more by his usual mask. There, I've finally wounded him; she thought with malicious joy. A smile crept to her face unknowingly. But then he did something totally unexpected. He broke into a smile also and began laughing; and not his usual sarcastic laugh either, but a genuine, warm sort of laugh. She suddenly grew uncomfortable by this; what on earth was wrong with him?- had he gone mad?
"What the hell is so damned funny, I'd like to know," Scarlett asked, narrowing her eyes at him.
"You're jealous," Rhett replied with a short laugh.
Scarlett gaped at him in horror. She, Scarlett O'Hara, jealous over a- Oh! it was preposterous! How dare he even presume- "You're drunk still. You must be. I can't possibly think of any other reason as why you would even think I- stop laughing at me, Rhett Butler!'
"Can't you, my dear, Scarlett? It's quite obvious that you're displeased with my behavior. Should I have stayed then, darling? Ah, but then you've just reiterated your plea for my absence from your bed, so then again perhaps I was in the right, after all."
"…I…what? I mean I don't care what you do. Just leave me alone."
"I will not."
"Excuse me?"
"I don't think you really want me to leave. If fact, I think you'd rather like me to stay. Tell me, Scarlett, does the undying love of the honorable Mr. Wilkes make up for the absence of me in your bed? Because if my memory- which mind you, after my escapades at Belles of late, may have been jostled it a bit,- serves me correct, you seemed to rather enjoy our -er, last meeting rather well. But then again, perhaps I've just allowed my conceit to get a hold over me once more." He looked down at her with a sense of self-assuredness that she hadn't seen in ages.
"You shouldn't say such things, Rhett…"
"I'll say whatever damn well pleases me to say. Now answer me."
Scarlett stared up at him, her mouth round as in "o" in disbelief. Good God, how did they ever come to be discussing this subject in the first place, she wondered. Oh, if only she could escape him. The thought of making a mad dash towards her bedroom door crossed her mind. But Rhett seemed to read the thought as her eyes warily glanced in its direction and he placed his hands in a firm grasp on her shoulders.
"I…I don't know what you mean, Rhett…I…"
"No? Then perhaps I ought to remind you." Abruptly she found herself in his arms once more, the hard muscles holding her tightly against him as he adhered his mouth firmly over hers. He kissed her possessively, one hand reaching up to cup her head, the other wrapped securely at her tiny waist.
At first she refused to respond, but as his tongue probed its way into her mouth, all thoughts were momentarily washed away, as she reveled in the passionate feelings he was once again evoking in her. But with these feelings of rapture also came the remembrance of all that followed. She shoved him away roughly and slapped him soundly across the face.
"You low-down, nasty thing! How dare you touch me after you've been consorting with-" she swallowed her wrath immediately as she saw the triumphant look return to his face. "I don't care what you choose to believe. I know the truth, and…"
"Ah, yes, and what truth is that, Scarlett? You wouldn't know the truth even if it landed right slap in your hands. You don't know anything unless it's dollars and cents and makes your pocket jingle a bit more," he replied bitingly.
"You don't know me, Rhett Butler, so don't presume to tell me what I do and don't know. All you know or understand is dirt, because that's all you've lived in for so long. So I'll thank you to keep your opinions to yourself."
He jerked her to him, wrenching one of her arms and twisting it behind her back. Scarlett bit her lip to hide her pain. She'd be damned if she let him know how much he was hurting her, physically or emotionally.
"Hurts doesn't it? How does it feel to have someone constantly driving you past the point of pain? Does it make you mad, Scarlett? Does it?" His face was but inches away from hers, his black eyes glowing frighteningly. "Cry out, damn you. Let me see you cry, prove to me that you are capable of some human emotion, you wench." Here he tightened his grip.
"Let go of me," Scarlett pleaded. With her other hand she tried to claw at him, but he swiftly trapped it as well. She struggled against him, only to find herself even more imprisoned by him. He was starting to scare her. That fearsome glow hadn't left his eyes, and he was staring down at her intensely, as if to hypnotize her. Finally, out of breath, and hurting too much to care, she began sobbing against his chest. Surprisingly, he released her and began stroking her hair and back, consolingly, almost as if he was sorry, almost as if he were trying to apologize for his erratic, mad behavior. Scarlett started when she felt his lips kiss her head softly, and she finally drew courage to look up at him once more. What she saw startled her far more than anything she had yet seen. He was gazing down at her with such sad, tormented eyes. She could see the battle raging within them, the violent emotions rumbling just beneath the surface.
"Rhett…?"
He made a sound as if clearing his throat and released her. "Excuse me. But I believe Mammy mentioned that Bonnie was out back playing in the yard." Rhett turned and walked away from her, avoiding eye contact.
Scarlett looked after him in confusion. What the devil had just occurred, she wondered. At first when he had entered her room, he'd stood before her, maintaining his usual coolly detached behavior- but afterwards, he'd become impassioned, angry, mocking, hateful…and tender? She could still see his troubled eyes, feel the slight trembling in his frame. What did it all mean?
Scarlett sat distractedly on the bed, pressing her palms to her throbbing head. It hurt her head far too much to continue her line of thoughts. She'd think about it tomorrow. Right now she just wanted to get as far away from Rhett as possible.
