Scarlett finished her business more quickly than she would have liked. She had tried everything to draw out the time. When she stopped by the store, she questioned her manager about everything that came to her mind. She made suggestions about random items and kept jumping from topic to topic in an effort to keep her mind turning. By the time she left, she knew the man was more than a little confused.

At Johnny Gallegher's mill, Scarlett checked over the books three times before lecturing Mr. Gallegher on his atrocious handwriting skills for a good twenty minutes. Upon arriving at Ashley's mill, she checked his books three times as well. She was lucky enough to actually have reason to check it for the fourth time. Her Ashley was very bad at keeping books.

When she left Ashley's mill, the sky was tinted heavily with beautiful pink and purple patterns. She tried to think of something else she could do before she went back to the house. She thought of visiting Aunt Pitty but decided against it. She wasn't dressed for a visit. She was sure that it had been more than a little obvious to her employees that she was lacking an essential undergarment today. She could only imagine what Aunt Pitty's reaction would be to her attire. Not to mention the fact that she couldn't bear to be in the same room with India Wilkes under normal circumstances. But to be in a room with India when she wore that ridiculous, condemning look on her face… well, that was too much to ask of her patience.

She thought of visiting Melly but decided against that too. She knew that a visit at this hour would warrant a dinner invitation. Scarlett knew as well as anyone that Ashley was barely able to feed his little family. And with Melly always busybodying about, inviting people to dinner… They didn't need someone else to feed

So she slowed her horse to a slow trot, allowing for the slowest ride possible. She rode this way for a few minutes, but her impatient nature got the best of her. Upon reaching town, she spurred her horse on toward her house.

When her house came in sight, she slowed her horse again. But no matter how slow the horse trotted, it wasn't slow enough for Scarlett. The poor animal was more than a little agitated upon reaching the house. There were probably sores in the horse's mouth from Scarlett's constant tugging at the reins for the animal to slow down.

When she reached the house, Pork was already there to take her horse. Why did she have to have such prompt servants? Now she couldn't even ride out to the stable before entering the house. She was sharp with Pork as she gave him the reins and some instruction. She realized that there was no reason for abusing the loyal servant, but didn't care.

Once she entered the house, she made a beeline for her room. If she could just get there, she could feign illness and stay in for the rest of the night.

When she finally reached her room, she swiftly closed the door and locked it. She let out a pent up sigh as she pulled her gloves from her hands.

She tried not to think about the last time they had been taken off…

She also tried not to think of the last time her bedroom door had been slammed so swiftly…She glanced at the bed—No! She wouldn't think about it!

She did notice, however, that the bed was now free of all of Rhett's belongings. As was the floor. She refused to feel anything. Walking over to the bell pull, she pulled it down and headed to her closet. She passed the opened door of Rhett's closet and skidded to a stop in front of it.

All of Rhett's clothes were arranged neatly and tidily back in their original places. It was as if this afternoon had never happened.

And then the rage came.

"I—I heard you ring Miz Scarlett…" Mammy, out of breath from climbing the stairs, stumbled into the room. Immediately sensing Scarlett's rage, Mammy readied herself for her lamb's tantrum.

But Mammy was surprised. Scarlett just stood there staring at the closet. She was breathing rather heavily and Mammy realized that Scarlett wasn't wearing a corset. She wouldn't be able to breathe that deeply with one constricting her stomach and Mammy felt a brief moment of indignation that Scarlett would forget her raising so easily. However, all of Mammy's thoughts were interrupted by a strange event, in which she was sure had never happened in the case of her mistress.

Scarlett's murderous expression changed to something akin to a satisfied smirk. She let out a small, hollow laugh. Mammy, startled by the sudden change, jumped slightly at the sound. Briefly, she wondered if Scarlett wasn't murderous but somewhat mad. But she immediately dismissed the idea. She was almost positive that it had to do with the argument that she and Mr. Rhett had had earlier… It was hard not to hear…

"Mammy," Scarlett suddenly spoke, "I am ready to go to bed. I am rather tired. Could you help me undress?"

That was when Mammy remembered her earlier revelation, and a scowl hardened her countenance. "You and me both know, Miz Scarlett, that you ain't needin' no hep from me wid dat dress. Seein' as you ain't got nothin' underneath it." Mammy spoke with her must indignant voice.

It didn't faze Scarlett at all as she continued to try and unbutton the buttons in the back of her dress on her own. She turned towards her own closet. "You don't have to help then. I can do it myself. You just let the kitchen know that I won't be eating dinner tonight. I am not hungry…"

Mammy smirked at that. Her lamb was never "not hungry". "Dat's to bad, cuz they's made a duck and…"

Scarlett stuck her head out at the first mention of a specific food. "Duck?" Trying to act like this detail did little to sway her in her decision, Scarlett shrugged nonchalantly and declared that she didn't care before disappearing into the closet again. A moment later Scarlett walked out in her robes and headed straight to her bed.

"Pull the curtains, will you, Mammy?" Scarlett asked, pulling her bedclothes back over the mattress.

Mammy huffed. There was no arguing with Scarlett when she was like this. Mammy knew this better than anyone. She did as Scarlett asked and headed for the door.

"Mammy, save some of the duck." Scarlett said in a veiled voice, muffled by her pillow.

"Yes'm." Mammy smirked.

Dreaming was a unique thing. It prompted in the dreamer visions and feelings that refuse to be thought of candidly. Scarlett's mind was no different.

Scarlett was in a room and she couldn't see anything. Everything was blurred. She thought she might be in a parlor but something told her she was wrong. She was looking at something in front of her. Something tall, a dark shadow in the vague universe. She couldn't stop looking at it. She tried to look at the shadow and take in her surroundings too but she couldn't focus on both things at the same time She couldn't figure out where she was and stare at the obscure shadow. But she didn't want to look away from the formless looming shape that seemed to bring her comfort.

Behind her she also felt a presence. The urge to turn and inspect it was great but she didn't want to look away from the shadow. She was afraid for an unknown reason. And yet, she knew why too. She didn't know where she was and she felt alone.

She stayed this way for a long time, staring at the shadow. But she still desperately wanting to find out where she was and she wanted to turn around to see what she felt looming behind her. She was beginning to feel frustrated. Why wouldn't the shadow move? Why couldn't she just see where she was and see the thing behind her without the shadow leaving her? When her frustration started, she noticed the shadow starting to move closer to her, as if afraid to anger her. She hadn't ever considered being near the shadow. Just seeing it had been enough, but at the thought of being close to it, to feeling it…she couldn't contain her eagerness. She reached out to the shape before it reached her and she tried to grab it. Her fingers had reached it but they went straight through. As if it were a ghost. She pulled her hand back as she watch the shadow dissolve in front of her, slowly fading where her fingers had touched until nothing was left. Part of her wanted to cry. But the other part was relieved in a way that confused her. But she didn't ponder on her confusion towards her relief because now that the shadow was gone she could concentrate on her surroundings.

She was on a road. And it was dark and she could smell smoke and hear bombs. Next to her was a carriage. She could hear a baby crying in that carriage. Melanie's baby. Now she knew where she was and she was terrified.

The War. No. The War was over. It couldn't be the War. The more afraid she felt, the greater the presence behind her felt. She felt it was closer now than it had ever been and it was warm. The longer she stood there with the presence behind her, begging her to turn around and look at it, the warmer it felt. She felt it get warmer and warm, until her back felt like it was on fire.

Burning…

She turned in an attempt to ward what felt like flames, and suddenly she couldn't see at all. Fear like she had never known gripped her. She needed to find light. She needed to see. She reached out, searching blindly for anything, and her hand touched something. She gripped it firmly, feeling its hardness and strength. She knew it was strong without knowing what it was, and she also knew that it was the force that had been behind her all along, begging her to turn. She felt relieved to feel it. Like she was doing exactly what she was supposed to do upon discovering it. Her fingers traced the figure in the darkness and it didn't take her long to realize that it wasn't just a force or a shadow…

It was a man.

She knew who it was. Without being told and without speaking herself, she knew. And she suddenly felt a rush of excitement and bewilderment at her discovery. She continued her exploration of what she now knew were his arms. She was so happy it was him, and yet she couldn't believe she hadn't known it before.

She could feel his happiness too, and it filled her with longing. He must have felt the change in her emotions because suddenly she was bombarded with a rush of passion and desire and he was touching her too. Pushing and tugging at her body. Bringing her closer and closer. She yielded to his warmth—he was so warm!—and raked her hands across his body possessively. Both yielding and taking at the same time.

His lips crashed into hers violently and possessively. His hands were everywhere. Everything. Oh, it felt so good! Her back, her neck, her arms, her shoulders, her chest…oh, please! Her stomach, her thighs, her stomach again, and then down…down…

Don't stop! Her body seemed to scream it over and over, as if it knew it was inevitable. But he didn't stop, and she had never been so grateful.

She was touching him too, matching his touches with her own. And she was so close…so very close, but she didn't know what she was reaching for.

It was too much and not enough and she screamed his name, pleading with him to satisfy it. To give it to her…

"Rhett!"

Scarlett was still dreaming, tossing and turning, when Rhett came in. He heard her calling for him, and instinctively thought that she was having one of her nightmares. He ran for her and scooped her body up, anticipating her tears and readying himself to comfort her.

Scarlett awoke to the same warmth surrounding her as she had felt in her dream and it matched the warmth that was seething within her own body. She opened her eyes and it was him.

Rhett was staring down at her and holding her and she had never wanted to see him, and only him, so badly.

She had never needed anyone like she needed him right now.

She attacked his mouth with her own. Moaning and grasping and fighting to get closer. She reached up and grasped his hair, pulling it roughly. She sat up and straddled him on the bed, forcing his hands on her and continued to demand, command…she wouldn't take no for an answer.

She continued to assault his mouth, still moaning into him with every brush of her tongue to his. She pulled his hair again trying to get him closer and he groaned too, sending lightning bolts of heat to parts of herself she had never known existed.

She let go of his hair and grabbed his hands and raked them over her body with her own. Savagely, she and he both assaulted her body harshly: her breast, her stomach, her thighs. Her stomach, her breast, her back, her thighs, until she couldn't take it anymore. She grasped his hand and roughly slid it in between her legs.

"Oh Rhett!" Scarlett groaned. Rhett growled and took over. He flipped her around and slamming her onto the bed, started ravishing her body roughly with his mouth, his hands. Just like in the dream, she was on fire. And the fire seemed to be spreading and building. And she knew at some point she was going to explode from the completeness, the pleasure. No one could feel this full and whole and not spontaneously combust.

She kept reaching for it and reaching for it, and Rhett kept leading her to it. With his hands and his mouth and his voice, grunting and groaning her name over and over again. And, always, when she felt too full to take it anymore, he would force her to keep reaching and she would revel in it.

She had thought that she had never felt so complete, and couldn't see how he could fill her anymore than he had. But then he filled her again, this time with himself. And the fire spiked into her stomach and forcing her body to reach again, and again. Building and filling and reaching…until she did finally explode into a million pieces.

Everything stopped. Froze. Time. Her Heart. And all she could see was his face. Still above her, still kissing her…and she was surprised to feel that she was still completely full. And it swelled within her in the sweetest way as he continued to softly kiss her face and stroke her cheeks and smile softly at her. She smiled too and said his name for the hundredth time that night, this time in a whisper. Reverence. Adulation.

His eyes filled same emotions that she had heard in her voice.