Thanks for the reviews for the Black Widow (she was meant to be a much more immoral "Scarlett-light", but not completely detestable). Belle and Rose …I think Anna hit it on the head when she said Belle would like the mistress to become the wife, for once. Also, Rose may have been a bit shy around her, which in some people can look like arrogance (exhibit A: Georgiana Darcy). And the widow now wants to become pregnant so he'll marry her.

I took out the intro - enough people have told me that it was too scary that I think it was...too scary. Sorry. I'll figure out a way to explore the "Demons" in a more constructive manner. For now, we'll do what I should have done in the first place ...just some nice R&S fluff. Hope you enjoy!

Atlanta- Summer of 1892

The landscape slid by beyond the windows, giving her the paradoxical sensation that she was sitting still, and the world whipping past them. She glanced at Rhett, sitting beside her, his tall frame slumped against the wall. His eyes were closed. He looked dreadfully tired.

"Are you comfortable," he murmured, having apparently felt her stir.

"I'd be much more comfortable if you hadn't insisted we leave Tara right after suppertime," she complained. "We could be in bed right now."

"I'm thrilled that you seem so… impatient, Mrs. Butler. We'll be in bed soon enough." Even his closed eyes didn't prevent his brows from rising suggestively.

Scarlett flushed. "I meant that we could be sleeping in bed by now. I don't think you're even up to …whatever it is you're insinuating!" She looked at him more closely, and the irritation faded from her voice. "Rhett. You look tired to death."

"Not sleeping for two months will do that to you," he agreed amicably, if sleepily. One black eye opened, looked at her, and closed again. "You look rather worn out yourself, Mrs. Butler."

Her vanity was ruffled, but she knew he was telling the truth. "All the more reason to stay at Tara."

He gave the merest hint of a headshake, but his irrepressible hand snaked out, and pulled her close. "I'd rather be alone with you."

She knew him too well, but she abandoned her argument. It was pointless, and he was right – they would be in Atlanta soon enough.

~~oo~~

An hour later, they walked into the opulent lobby of the National. Scarlett looked around warily …some of the best memories of her former marriage had lived in this place. But now, she had other memories – memories that were infinitely dearer, and warmer.

"The Honeymoon Suite awaits you, Captain Butler." From the look the concierge gave Rhett, the myth - or rather the scandal - of the Butler name had not faded completely over the years, and their arrival would be "out" by tomorrow morning at the latest. She almost smirked.

She watched Rhett, a bit unsure he wouldn't faint before they even made it to their hotel room. He had swayed precariously again in the lobby. But he seemed to regain some of his verve, climbing the stairs with so much energy that she was afraid he would start to whistle. Once inside their suite, she tipped the porter, and looked around. The room had been renovated several times since they'd last been here, the color-scheme now a somewhat more sedate gold-and-white. She hardly recognized it. She exhaled. Just as well.

She turned to her husband again. He was smiling at her, but she noticed he was shivering. "Rhett. Go to bed, " she said, with concern. "You're going to fall down."

"I never fall," he grinned. Scarlett did not heed him. She walked up to him and pushed him backwards, onto the covers. He was shivering harder. She felt his forehead like a sick child. He wasn't hot, or feverish ….it was probably, she thought, really complete and utter physical exhaustion. When had he really last slept? She helped him out of his clothes, swatting away his errant hand, which apparently not even near coma could prevent from trying to snake around her waist. She tucked him in firmly, and doused the light.

"Scarlett," he murmured. "Lay next to me."

She slipped out her own clothes, grateful she had dispensed with corsets while at Tara. She skipped everything nonessential about her toilette, including brushing her hair. She would untangle it tomorrow. Dressed only in her chemise, she slipped under the covers beside him. He grabbed her lithe form greedily, and pulled her close. He buried his head in her hair, inhaling her rosewater scent. She put her arms around him, and started stroking his back gently, sensing he craved touch more than anything. After a few minutes, his deep breathing showed that he had fallen fast asleep, and his shivering eased.

Scarlett, although quite tired herself, reflected for a moment. She almost laughed. Not quite the reconciliation she had envisioned, but …..

She laid back her head against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. She was home.

~~oo~~

Sunlight flooded the room when she awoke. She blinked, and experienced a moment of disorientation. She remembered she was in Atlanta. Her limbs were tangled with Rhett's, as they had been for the last eighteen years, minus two months. She had not had a single nightmare.

She pushed herself into a half-sitting position. He appeared to be still sleeping. She bent over him, staring into his familiar face. He looked infinitely better than yesterday, a lot of deep lines smoothed out as if by magic, and his skin no longer grey. But he still looked far from well.

Suddenly, swift as lighting, he had opened his eyes, grabbed her, pushed her back into the pillow, and kissed her.

"Hey!" she protested, when she could breathe again. "That was…. a nasty trick."

"Was it?" he murmured, his dark eyes gleaming. "There are several words that have come to women's mind in the past when they kissed me, but "nasty" isn't one of them."

"Conceited varmint." She smiled up at him. "How long have you been up?"

"Not long," he said. "It's almost three o'clock. We must have both been….tired."

"Three! But…."

"Relax, Scarlett. We have the Suite as long as we want it."

"But I'm hungry," she complained. She was hungry, but that is not why she had said it. She felt shy before him.

"Consistency, thy name is woman," he said. "You shall be fed, my dear." He got up from the bed, looking for his clothes.

He was as good as his word. Scarlett would never know whom he had bribed to rustle up breakfast at this hour, but she had to admit her husband was nothing if not resourceful. Within half an hour, she was consuming a large breakfast of coffee, bacon, ham, eggs, toast, and mountains of strawberry jelly.

"There's more in the kitchen," he said. She stuck out her tongue at him. She felt ravenously hungry. Rhett, too, was eating more than his usual allotment. When they were full, he cleared their plates, undressed, and slid back into bed with her.

He looked thoughtful. "I guess we both haven't been eating well."

"I guess," she said, suddenly shy again. He leaned over her, pulling up her chin.

"Promise me."

"What," she said, feeling if anything even more inhibited than before.

"Promise me you'll never leave me again," he said, softly. "My heart may not be able to take it next time."

Guilt flooded over her, thinking how worn out he had looked. Still looked, if she was honest with herself.

"I didn't mean to hurt you," she whispered. "I just…"

"I know you didn't," he said, simply. "God knows I've run away too many times myself - and rarely did I do you the courtesy of leaving a letter, telling you when and where you could see me again. I didn't mean to upbraid you. Just to state a fact. " He inhaled, quickly. "My health is not what it used to be, and not having you next to me does terrible things to my sleep."

She attempted to explain, in fumbling words, how she had felt. "It was as if I was ...frozen. After Ella's miscarriage, this numbness just fell down on me. I couldn't feel anything. I think I never understood what it was like, for you after Bonnie's death. I never understood how you could …..just leave like that. Now, I do." Her green eyes pleaded with him.

"Then one good thing came out of it all," he said, softly, stroking her face. "And now?"

She gave a half-hearted attempt at a giggle. "I felt irritated when I realized I missed you sleeping next to me. And even more irritated when you didn't come first thing in the morning."

He laughed, and she let the sound wash over her. "Irritation is a start. Anything else that you might want to share... with your loving husband?"

Hesitatingly, she told him about the nightmares, and Will's words. Her revelation at the grave.

"If I hadn't wanted to live up Mother's ideal, I would probably never have fallen for Ashley," she explained, thoughtfully. "If I just could have accepted myself, and not tried to be like her. It was... such a waste. Especially now that I know what happened."

He nodded, thoughtfully, perhaps a bit surprised at her introspection. "Yes. That makes a lot of sense." He yawned.

She laughed. "I'm glad I'm such entertaining company, Captain Butler. You can barely keep your eyes open."

He smiled rakishly. "Sorry. I seem to be showing my age."

"It's all right," she said, softly. "I think we should just….rest. You do look so… tired, Rhett." An idea struck her. "Wait here." She hopped out of bed, rummaged through the closet, and withdrew a bottle of oil from her luggage.

He eyed it with interest.

"Lay down, and open your robe," she ordered. With a salacious grin, he complied. She started rubbing the oil over his dark, matted chest, and his eyes started to gleam even more appreciatively. A bit too appreciatively. "No hands," she told him, firmly. "This is a relaxing massage."

"But I am relaxed," he told her, his hand once more snaking up her thigh. She shivered involuntarily. "It's you that seems somewhat ….. tense, Mrs. Butler," he added with fake concern, while he continued to stroke her leg. "Perhaps you should lay down?"

"Rhett, I ….."

He half-rose, catching her hand in mid-motion, stilling it. "Scarlett." All mirth had vanished from his face. "Please. Let me…touch you. Let me make love to you. Now. Not later. Being so far away from you made me want to crawl out of my skin, and now ….I can't get close enough," he said. She stared at him, and her heart almost stopped at the expression on his face.

"Rhett." She couldn't bear that look. She kissed him gently, and then rested her full weight on his chest. "Is this close enough?" she whispered. His hands were now touching her all over, hitching her nightgown up to somewhere above her shoulders, relentlessly drinking her lips. He finally hosted himself up again, and pulled the nightgown completely off in one smooth movement.

"No," he said, as he slid himself over her warm, welcoming body. "Not yet."

~~oo~~

"I guess I should see about dinner," he said, when nine o'clock still found them drowsy and entangled. It was pitch-black outside again. They had slept throughout most of the day. When they were not making love.

She smiled up at him, perfectly content. "I guess you should." She stretched, luxuriously. "I wonder why no one came."

"I gave strict instructions that we should not be disturbed."

She rolled her eyes. "I should have known."

He pushed back her black tresses, and gazed intently into her eyes. "I love you."

"I love you too," she said, blushing, suddenly sounding as earnest as a schoolgirl. "Even when I was numb. I always saw it, underneath all that ice. Like a river frozen at the top, with fish underneath." She laughed with some embarrassment, for she was not usually given to metaphors. "But I knew it was there."

"Me, too," he said, softly. When she looked at him, questioning, he added, "When I left Atlanta. Your frozen river is actually a beautiful, and apt, analogy. There were still emotions …" he caught himself, and started over, "there was still love underneath, but I believed the top would never thaw out again. That any feelings would remain eternally encased in a thick sheet of ice."

"It's good that you were wrong," she whispered.

He pulled her close. "I was wrong." His hands were absentmindedly stroking her hair. "I've been….happy these last eighteen years, Scarlett. Happy with you. Happy with our family. And happy with the decision I made to stay. If I had the choice, I would go through it all again– even the blackest moments – to be here with you, today. To be …..a part of our family. Our life together."

"Even…."

He did not flinch. "Yes. Even that." He was caressing her face again, and his voice was gentle. "I would rather have known Bonnie, and lost her, than never to have known her at all. As we've both now seen, learning to live with pain, and appreciating one's blessings, as hard as it is - is preferable to the pain of not living."

She was crying. Thick, cascading drops coursed over her cheeks. He stroked her tears with his thumb, and kissed her, until she smiled at him.

"Now what about dinner?" Revelations were still hard for him. They always would be. But he was trying.

She smiled more broadly, pulling him down on her. Her searching lips found his. "No," she murmured. "Not yet."