Scarlett's steps were heavy and leaden when she finally returned to the hotel the next day. The new black boots pinched her toes and the demurely high collar of her dress itched unbearably. The dress was old, and Prissy had had to take it in where it had sagged at waist and bosom. She had her waist back, at least, though she was long past caring.

What a long, grueling day! Though she was saddened by the death of her aunt, sad to lose one of her last connections to her mother, the worst of it was the never-ending whining of her sister and the unfailing solicitousness of Eleanor Butler. It unnerved Scarlett. What could be her mother-in-law's motive? Given the state of her marriage - dead in all but name, and God only knew what Rhett had told her - did Eleanor think her as cold and heartless as everyone else did? Was all her help and hovering just a ploy, conducted in the hopes of seeing Scarlett falter and fail? Did Mrs. Butler think she would refuse the burdens of family in need, when she had carried them for so long? It was enough to make her head ache, too.

Crossing the elegantly black-and-white tiled lobby, Scarlett stopped abruptly.

"Rhett!" she exclaimed, shocked to see him again. He had dropped a newspaper in one of the wicker chairs before coming to intercept her. She looked around his shoulder for the man he had been with the night before, or for some other reason to excuse his presence, and saw only the slowly settling newsprint. "What are you doing here?"

Rhett touched her elbow. Without thinking, she relaxed into the light touch, shifting her weight imperceptibly to lean against his fingers. The contact steadied her, providing support she had not even realized she needed. She should step away - she would - after a moment. In this small way, it was nice to feel even briefly that she could share the strain of her day. It wasn't weakness. She was just so tired.

"I thought you might want a brandy after today," he said quietly, looking down at her. He was so close she could feel his breath stirring the hair that had come loose from her coiffure, smell the faint aroma of tobacco it carried.

"If you are going to lecture me about my drinking," she said without any force, only weariness, "I'll thank you to spare us both and just leave me alone. Why are you here, anyway?"

"To see you."

Scarlett lifted her head sharply, seeking out his gaze as she cursed herself for the sudden, immediate flare of scalding hot hope in her belly. Shouldn't she, after so many years, be beyond such things? Rhett's dark eyes were impenetrable, his face a study in blank indifference. Yet there was a small line in the corner of his mouth - and, there, the subtle movement of tightly corded muscles in his neck. But what did it mean?

"Let me buy you that brandy," he added gently.

The fingertips at her elbow felt heavy and warm through the thin black crepe of her gown. Scarlett took a deep breath and held his gaze.

"Aren't you afraid of how it will look, your wife drinking spirits in public?"

The suspicious crease by his mouth disappeared as his face contorted into a frown. "We need to talk."

The hot bubble of hope burst, and her gut clenched in fear. He hadn't mentioned divorce since the night he had told her he was leaving. After so many years, had her arrival in Charleston suddenly moved him to action? Oh, God, he wouldn't do this now, would he? Scarlett moistened her suddenly dry lips with the tip of her tongue before answering.

"Not here," she said, decisively. "There's a bottle in my rooms," she admitted. Rhett arched one black brow. "There's a private sitting room in my suite," she snapped, irritated. "You needn't worry I'll try to seduce you."

Rhett made a small bow with a mocking flourish of his arm. "After you, then, Mrs. Butler." Her agitated stomach turned over at his words. Would this be the end of her bleak time as Mrs. Butler? He trailed her as she started up the stairs. "But who's to say I would object?"

Scarlett stopped so abruptly that Rhett ran into her, his broad chest colliding with her stiff back. She heard his quiet chuckle right next to her ear. She felt his hands, large and warm, come to rest against her waist, just above her crumpled bustle. The touch, so unexpected after years of bitterness, shocked her back into motion. It wasn't appropriate to say such things, or to be seen like this, on the grand staircase of a very public hotel. Whatever Rhett meant by it, whatever he intended, would have to wait until they were safely in her room.

The decanter of brandy was placed boldly on a sideboard in the hotel room's small sitting area. It was a freedom she would never have taken when Mammy accompanied her, but Prissy was either too stupid to notice or too smart to remark on it. Rhett took a seat on the sofa, the largest piece of furniture in the room, while Scarlett discarded her hat and gloves. She had sent Prissy and the children back to the hotel hours before; no doubt all three were asleep by now in their own rooms. It would have been an annoyance alone, trying to disrobe and unlace herself. With Rhett, it was a relief not to face any of them. She certainly could not imagine trying to explain his presence to the children, not when she didn't understand it herself.

After dropping the ugly black bonnet on a small table, Scarlett's hand went automatically to her throat. She caught herself before she unbuttoned the high collar, remembering she wasn't alone. It would be a relief to get out of this dress, but it seemed that freedom would have to wait.

After pouring two glasses of brandy - her own not as full as it might have been, had she been alone - Scarlett crossed the room to offer one to the silent Rhett. She intended to move away, to take a seat on one of the two uncomfortable chairs, but his hand caught at her skirts.

"Sit here."

Warily, Scarlett complied. She took a nervous sip of her brandy, eager for the muffling warmth to spread through her and quiet her fears. Hoping, too, that it might provide some measure of courage, for her own stores felt exhausted.

Rhett seemed disinclined to speak. He sipped his own drink and watched her. Her already raw nerves scraped uncomfortably under her skin. Could Rhett never behave like an ordinary man?

"Really, Rhett," she said at last. "Won't you tell me why you're here?"

"Because you invited me up?" he said, his eyes dancing. Oh, he was as terrible as ever! Scarlett was almost tempted to stick her tongue out at him, a childish impulse she had thought long gone. Even Suellen couldn't provoke her to such displays anymore.

"Don't joke," she chided instead.

Rhett tossed back the rest of his brandy with a practiced gesture and grimace. He sat forward, sliding the glass across the table, then braced his arms on his thighs. Scarlett tightened her grip on her own glass, feeling the slick of sweat coating her palms. Now it would happen - she should have put up with Suellen at their aunts' house, or paid for Sue to stay in the hotel - if she had stayed out of sight, if Rhett hadn't seen her-

If Rhett hadn't seen her, then what? Another three years, another ten, of silence? No, she wouldn't think about that. But she would not let him divorce her, no matter what.

"I couldn't stop thinking about you."

"What?" Scarlett set her own glass down abruptly, suddenly afraid it would slip right out of her clammy hand.

"After I saw you last night. I knew you were in town, of course - my mother - but I hadn't expected to see you." Clearly, you hadn't wanted to, Scarlett thought, unable to look at him. "But as I always feared would happen, now that I have-"

Scarlett flinched at the touch of warm skin brushing against her cheek. Rhett dragged his thumb along the soft curve of her cheek, then pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. Scarlett's heart hammered painfully in her chest.

"Look at me, Scarlett." Oh again, it was so tempting to be childish, to shake her head and pull away. But Rhett's voice and touch acted on her like a magnet, and she was powerless to resist the attraction.

There was a queer light in Rhett's dark eyes, strange and unnervingly familiar. Confusion paralyzed her, and impression and memory passed too quickly through her brain to be grasped or understood. His thumb, finely textured but not rough, smoothed across her cheek again. "I still carry the color of your eyes in my mind. It's good to see them again."

The compliment stung like an insult, breaking the spell that had kept her frozen. Good to see her again! He had stayed away for three years - he had only seen her by accident, not design, because she couldn't bear to squeeze herself into the crowded house on the Battery. She opened her mouth, ready to light into him, but Rhett moved too quickly. "Oh no you don't," he said in a voice so low it was nearly a growl. The hand by her face moved swiftly to cup the back of her head. Wrapping his other arm around her waist, he hauled her against his body. Her skirts tangled around her legs, neatly trapping her. Rhett's mouth found hers, his lips slow and searing as they moved against her own. It had been years since she had been kissed like this - not since the night of Ashley's party, so very long ago.

It was too confusing. Seeing Rhett again, for the second time in two days after three years with only the most cursory correspondence between them. Being kissed by Rhett for the first time in too many years to count! Could it mean anything at all?

Scarlett decided she did not want to know. This was what she had wanted, wished for, for the last four years. If this was goodbye, if it was a dream, a mistake - she could worry about that later. This was something she had lost before she even knew what she had. Even if this was goodbye, she would reach out with both hands and take it, not throw it away.

Perpetual anticipation's a delicate art,
Playing a role,
Aching to start,
Keeping control
While falling apart.

- A Little Night Music, Stephen Sondheim

I'm sorry, everything has been so busy. In the time I have I mostly use my phone and tablet for internet, and with the rating on this story I don't want to grab the updates on my work computer, but then I never take the time to boot up my personal computer. But I finally am getting around to the next part. Thank you all for the reviews! I hope I don't disappoint you. This is a SHORT story so we will roll through it pretty quickly, perhaps shallowly, but I do hope it's an enjoyable treat nonetheless.