A/N So I did exactly what I promised myself I wouldn't do...I started yet another story...however the plot bunny refused to leave me alone until I wrote it and I couldn't focus on any of my other stories so I had to write it down...I just hope you all like it...
DISCLAIMER: As you will all soon see, I borrow heavily from MM in this chapter even taking some passages directly, simply editing them, paraphrasing, or switching things around to suit my purpose...I don't normally like doing that, but I needed the scene to get me to where I veer off into what if land and I didn't see the point in reinventing the wheel and rewriting what MM did so well in the first place, but I am in no way shape or form, trying to take credit for something I didn't write...
Scarlett strode cheerfully into the lumber office, happy that keeping Ashley occupied until it was time for his surprise party gave her an excuse to be alone with him all afternoon. She paused in the doorway for a moment watching him as he worked, bent over the desk until he felt her presence and looked up, gracing her with a rare genuine smile.
"Come in, Scarlett. I was just going over the books," he said, standing and walking over to her.
"Oh, don't let's fool with any books this afternoon, Ashley! I just can't be bothered. When I'm wearing a new bonnet, it seems like all the figures I know leave my head."
"Figures are well lost when the bonnet's as pretty as that one," he said. "Scarlett, I do believe that you get prettier all the time!" He told her, taking her hands and spreading them wide so he could see her dress. "You are so pretty! I don't believe you'll ever get old!"
"Oh, Ashley don't tease me. I know I'm getting old and decrepit."
"I'm not Scarlett, even when you are sixty, you'll still look the same to me. I'll always remember you as you were that day of our last barbecue, sitting under an oak with a dozen boys around you. I can even tell you just how you were dressed, in a white dress covered with tiny green flowers and a white lace shawl about your shoulders. You had on little green slippers with black lacings and an enormous leghorn hat with long green streamers. I know that dress by heart because when I was in prison and things got too bad, I'd take out my memories and thumb them over like pictures, recalling every little detail–"
"Do you remember," he said.
And she did remember, she remembered the day of the barbeque like it was yesterday. It was the last day she could remember being completely happy, it was the day her life and world changed forever. She remembered waking up that morning with a single purpose in mind, she remembered riding to Twelve Oaks with her sisters and Pa, she remembered seeing Rhett for the first time in the entrance hall and that look in his eye as he watched her, something he had only perfected over the years, she remembered being surrounded by beaux each one of them desiring her attention more than the next and she remembered the scene in the library. That was the moment her life changed forever. A warning bell in Scarlett's mind sounded. Don't look back! Don't look back! It told her, but for once she didn't listen to it, and she allowed herself to be swept forward.
"Do you remember..." under the spell of his voice the bare walls of the little office faded and the years rolled aside and they were riding country bridle paths together in a long-gone spring.
As he spoke, his light grip tightened on her hand and in his voice was the sad magic of old half-forgotten songs. She could hear the gay jingle of bridle bits as they rode under the dogwood trees to the Tarletons' picnic, hear her own careless laughter, see the sun glinting on his silver-gilt hair and note the proud easy grace with which he sat his horse. There was music in his voice, the music of fiddles and banjos to which they had danced in the white house that was no more. There was the far-off yelping of possum dogs in the dark swamp under cool autumn moons and the smell of eggnog bowls, wreathed with holly at Christmas time and smiles on black and white faces. And old friends came trooping back, laughing as though they had not been dead these many years: Stuart and Brent with their long legs and their red hair and their practical jokes, Tom and Boyd as wild as young horses, Joe Fontaine with his hot black eyes, and Cade and Raiford Calvert who moved with such languid grace. There was John Wilkes, too; and Gerald, red with brandy; and a whisper and a fragrance that was Ellen. Over it all rested a sense of security, a knowledge that tomorrow could only bring the same happiness today had brought.
His voice stopped and they looked for a long quiet moment into each other's eyes and between them lay the sunny lost youth that they had so unthinkingly shared.
"We've come a long way since those days, Ashley," she said, trying to steady her voice, trying to fight the constriction in her throat. "We had fine notions then, didn't we?"
Her heart was suddenly dull with pain, with weariness, as she thought of the long road she had come since those days. There rose up in her mind the memory of Scarlett O'Hara who loved beaux and pretty dresses and who intended, some day, when she had the time, to be a great lady like Ellen. Without warning, tears started in her eyes and rolled slowly down her cheeks and she stood looking at him dumbly, like a hurt bewildered child.
"Oh, Ashley, nothing has turned out as we expected!"
He said no word but took her gently in his arms, pressed her head against his shoulder and, leaning down, laid his cheek against hers. She relaxed against him and her arms went round his body. The comfort of his arms helped dry her sudden tears.
She was slightly surprised with her self when she realized how good it felt to be in his arms, without passion, without tenseness, to be there as an old beloved friend. But then Ashley pulled away slightly tilting her chin up with his hand so that he could gaze into her emerald eyes. Before Scarlett realized what was happening his lips were on hers and his arms tightened around her waist.
At first her mind exploded with happiness. This was the very thing that she had yearned for, hungered for, ever since that cold day in the orchard at Tara so many years ago, ever since the day she had cornered him in the library on the day of the last barbeque. But then she noticed that something wasn't quite right, her heart wasn't beating hard with passion and her body wasn't a tremble with excitement as it used to be with just his very presence. It came to her as a sudden shock that she didn't really want him kissing her at all. All she wanted was comfort from an old friend who shared her memories and her youth, who knew her beginnings and her present and could understand what they had mutually lost.
She didn't know what this meant but it deeply disturbed her as she pulled out of his embrace and turned her face away with a quiet, "No Ashley," escaping her lips.
As if he had just realized what he was doing, his arms dropped to his sides abruptly and he stumbled back a few feet stuttering an awkward apology. The very air seemed to go out of the room as they both stood there in silence, neither of them looking at each other, wrapped in a heavy blanket of tension.
After a long moment Scarlett looked up at the man standing in front of her and was genuinely surprised at what she saw. It was not her Ashley that was standing in front of her, young and shining with his golden hair bright in the sun light as he squired her about the county. This was not the boy that came riding up the red dirt road, recently home from his grand tour, that would sit on the porch of Tara with her for hours reading her poetry that she pretended to be interested in. It wasn't the same clear gray eyes that she saw when she closed her own, that were now staring ashamedly at the floor. No, this was a different Ashley, a solemn old stranger with silver gray hair. A defeated and resigned man with tortured eyes that couldn't accept the hand that fate had dealt him.
"I apologize for my actions Scarlett, I don't know what came over me," Ashley explained lamely staring at some undistinguishable spot on the floor.
He can't even bear to look at me, Scarlett realized as she took in his anguished expression, the lines of age deeply etched into his pale countenance. His reaction to her and to his own actions struck her as cowardly, but she didn't feel anger towards him for this. No, she only felt two things that she never wanted anyone to feel for her and rarely felt for anyone else. Pity and an odd sense of kindness.
"You shouldn't look back Ashley, it does no good but to tear at your heart until all you can do is look back. And if all you do is look back then you can't see the present and you can't prepare for the future," Scarlett said quietly in a rare moment insight, choosing to ignore the kiss that had transpired between them for the time being as she herself didn't know what to make of it or of her indifference to it. "The world we grew up in is gone Ashley, and no amount of yearning is ever going to bring it back and you're not doing yourself or anyone else in your life any favors by refusing to accept that."
Again they stood in silence, Scarlett staring at Ashley and Ashley staring anywhere but at Scarlett.
Scarlett found herself unable to face the harsh reality of what had become of the man she loved, she did still love him...right? The walls of the small room seemed to be closing in and the air felt heavy and oppressive and she had a bitter taste in her mouth.
"I should go," Scarlett finally said, turning and making her way out of the office. She paused in the doorway, but didn't turn around. "I trust that we never need to speak about what happened today, it was a mistake and shall never happen again." She didn't expect or wait for a response before continuing out to the lumber yard.
She was climbing into her carriage when India, Archie and Mrs. Elsing drove up, coming to collect Ashley and take him to his party. She gave a mechanical nod of greeting before giving Pork the go ahead to drive off. She sank back into her seat and closed her eyes, thankful to be getting away from the mill, completely baffled by what had transpired and only giving a cursory thought to how disastrous it could have been if the others had arrived ten minutes earlier.
A/N So what did you all think? Is it worth continuing?