Mutual

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"Make up your mind to this. If you are different, you are isolated, not only from people of your own age but from people of your parent's generation and from your children's generation too. They'll never understand you and they'll be shocked no matter what you do. But your grandparents would probably be proud of you and say: 'There's a chip off the old block,' and your grandchildren will sigh enviously and say: 'What an old rip Grandma must have been!' and they'll try to be like you.

Scarlett laughed with amusement.

"Sometimes you do hit one the truth… I wonder what our grandchildren will be like!"

"Are you suggesting by that 'our' that you and I will have mutual grandchildren? Fie, Mrs Kennedy!"

Scarlett, suddenly conscious of her error of speech, went red.

"I…I…" she stuttered wondering how on earth she would be able to remedy the situation. Rhett's low, deep chuckle told her that it was impossible. He'd heard what she'd said and he intended to see just how far he could take the matter.

"Dear me Mrs Kennedy. Now I knew that you were fond of me, but to go so far as to begin to plan our future together? And you already married to another man? For shame." He chuckled again. "I wonder if you've gone as far as to plan how you intend to get rid of old Frank so that our union and eventual, thus far fictional grandchildren can become a reality?"

"Oh hush Rhett." she exclaimed, looking around as though frightened someone might have heard him. There was no chance of that of course, they were no where near town, being on their way back from the mills as they were. "You're being hateful. You know I didn't mean what I said in that way. Hell will freeze over before you and I ever have mutual anything. And to suggest that I was planning to kill Frank." Scarlett paused here and sighed slightly.

Suddenly Rhett felt penitent. The look on Scarlett's face was torturous to him. He knew her marriage to Frank was an unhappy one. The thought of an old biddy like Frank Kennedy making a woman like Scarlett O'Hara happy was laughable. Never in a million years could he even begin to understand her, lavish her, love her like she deserved.

Rhett wasn't even sure that Frank did love Scarlett. He'd been her sister Suellen's beau until Scarlett had unceremoniously spirited him away to serve her purposes. For money, like in almost all things in Scarlett's life now days, had been the driving force and only factor in this marriage. Scarlett had needed the money desperately. And that is why Rhett considered the fact that she was married to Frank Kennedy his fault.

She'd come to him first. She'd come to him to ask him for the money. She'd pretended first. Tried to play him for a fool. But after he'd inevitably broken through her façade she had begged him for the money. Actually begged. If Rhett knew one thing it was that Scarlett was a woman of immense pride, but that day, in the jail, she had disregarded her pride, thrown away all sense of self, offered herself to him for the money. And he'd turned her down. Turned her down for reasons he himself wasn't even sure of anymore. He was angry at the way she'd tried to fool him, playing on his heart as she had? He was scared of accepting her proposal, scared that if they went through with her becoming his mistress she'd find out just how much he did love her? Or the given excuse, that he couldn't withdraw on his funds? That was the one excuse that Rhett knew was a falsehood. He was a resourceful man and if he needed to get to some money he could have found a way to get to it.

But he'd refused her. And in her desperation, she'd turned to Frank. And now she was stuck in a loveless, passionless marriage again, for God only knows how long, for while Frank was no spring chicken he couldn't be expected to helpfully drop dead within a year or two.

'And it's all my fault.' Rhett thought to himself.

Rhett tried to shrug the demons of regret away from him. He wanted to continue this intriguing conversation.

"Kill him Scarlett?" he fairly bellowed. Then he chuckled again. "Those are your words my pet not mine. I merely said 'get rid of'. There are other ways to get rid of a husband than to kill him. Divorce for example. I never knew you to be capable of such violent thoughts"

"Fiddle dee dee Rhett Butler you know I could never get a divorce." she said in a very matter of fact way which pulled at Rhett's heart again. The way she had said it, it almost sounded as though she had considered the possibility herself.

"And as for violence, well lets just say that there are some things about me that you don't know and never will." She was thinking of course about the cold face of the Yankee deserter. The way his face had looked just before she'd shot him as he'd stalked towards her with menace and desire burning brightly in his eyes.

Rhett was intrigued but decided not to push the subject. Scarlett would tell him when she was ready. He knew he was her only confidant. The only one who accepted her for who she really was. And besides, she loved to talk about herself. Eventually she'd tell him everything.

"Well, if there is a violent streak in you my dear Mrs Kennedy, more violent than vase throwing that is, I certainly hope it is a trait that will not be inherited by our charming grandchildren you just mentioned."

"Oh Rhett." Scarlett pouted. "Please can't you forget I ever said that? I'm so embarrassed. It was just a slip of the tongue."

"But I don't want to forget it Mrs Kennedy. It's such a charming ideal."

Scarlett sighed, frustrated. This conversation wasn't at all to her liking. Though they rarely were when Rhett was leading them. He was always trying to extricate information from her, always trying to make her say something she shouldn't. It angered Scarlett almost as much as it invigorated her.

"Please don't call me Mrs Kennedy Rhett. Do I call you Captain Butler? I thought our friendship reached beyond the barriers of formal addresses."

"You're right Scarlett, and I'm sorry." Rhett apologised looking into her sparkling green eyes with a quiet softness, letting his guard down for once. In truth he felt terrible. It was mean of him to constantly remind her of the trap which was her second marriage. A trap he himself had ostensibly laid for her.

Scarlett caught his look and was confused by it. It was the same look she'd seen in his eyes just before he'd seen her hands at the jailhouse.

"Besides." Rhett continued quickly, noticing that Scarlett had seen the way he'd looked at her and hoping he could distract her from deciphering it's deeper meaning. "Two people who share grandchildren should most certainly be on a first name basis." Rhett pushed the topic again.

"Oh Rhett, why can't you let it go?"

"As I told you Scarlett, I think it's a charming ideal. Besides, you're the one who initially wanted to imagine what they'd be like. Why don't you let yourself do it? Just for fun. I fear you're ruining your brain using it only to think up ways to make money and not at all thinking just for the fun of it. Go ahead. What do you think they'd be like?"

"Well…" Scarlett began, reluctant to have this conversation at all but aware that Rhett wouldn't let her rest until she'd played along. 'Besides, it's nice to dream sometime' she reasoned.

"Well, they'd most certainly be beautiful." she began tentatively.

Rhett let out a short bark of a laugh. "My, my Scarlett you certainly do have faith in your own good looks. I knew you were vain my dear but did it ever occur to you to be prudent about voicing your opinions about it?"

"You asked me to imagine Rhett and that is what I am doing. Besides, it wouldn't be just me would it. According to your reasoning then a grandchild is most like it's grandparents and since you are the supposed grandfather of these children then it would be up to you too and you know that you're more handsome than should be allowed you devil."

Rhett felt pleasantly flattered but refused to let it show so he merely scoffed.

"Pray continue then Scarlett."

"Well," said Scarlett, on a roll now, perhaps it was kind of fun to imagine. She wasn't maternal and she didn't care much for babies but she had to admit that the image of the imaginary child she was creating in her mind was an endearing one.

"Well, she'd have black hair, because we both do."

"She?" interrupted Rhett.

"Yes, yes she's a girl, were you imagining a boy?"

"I wasn't imagining either Scarlett, I wouldn't dare to dream. It's you who bought the topic to light."

Scarlett's brow furrowed slightly, there was something about the phrasing of that sentence that didn't quite sit right with her. But she chose to ignore it, caught up in the moment as she was and unwittingly using rather interesting phrasing of her own, beginning to say things like 'because we both do', unconsciously allowing herself to think of Rhett as the father of her offspring and subsequent grandfather of theirs.

"Oh, but wouldn't she be lively Rhett? You're so full of life, and I'm not one to sit around either. I wonder what colour her eyes would be? Do you think they'd be green like mine or would your black eyes overpower the colour?" She looked at him and Rhett could see that, incredibly, she expected an answer. She was actually taking this game of make believe seriously, well at least a little bit seriously.

"I hope she'd have your eyes Scarlett." He said softly. So softly that Scarlett had to lean closer to hear what he was saying and Rhett shuddered a little at their proximity. "Because they are such beautiful eyes and if she were a grandchild of ours then she, like you, would know how to handle them and use them mercilessly to her advantage."

Scarlett giggled merrily, feeling young and carefree again for the first time since returning home to Tara. When Rhett was being nice he surely was fun to be around. When she thought about it seriously, which she did seldom but often enough, she became aware that Rhett was her best and only friend. Certainly she had a lot of acquaintances, but none whom she could talk to like she could talk to Rhett. Why this conversation would sound positively unseemly in polite society.

"Oh Rhett how you do run on." she exclaimed batting her eyelashes and making an exaggerated mockery of her own Southern Belle tactics. This made him laugh. His warm laugh, his real laugh. A laugh that Scarlett did not hear from him often, usually he offered a drawling mirth or a biting mockery of a laugh. His real laugh was a sound of comfort to Scarlett.

Suddenly Scarlett frowned slightly. "But I suppose," she began and Rhett could see that her thoughts were disturbing her. "I suppose that she wouldn't be accepted by everyone either. She'd be so headstrong," she continued at an alarming pace as though she needed to get all these thoughts out before they consumed her. "She'd do whatever she wanted just like you do and everyone would condemn her for it. Oh how horrible for her." she exclaimed, slightly startled herself at how real this conversation was becoming.

Rhett smiled at her warmly, determined to put her fears at rest. "Come now Scarlett, you and I don't find life that bothersome do we? We have our own fun and be damned to those dislike us for it. I know you feel it keenly now my dear, you've only recently dispensed with your own place amongst Atlanta's finest, but take the advice of a veteran in the subject, it does become easier with time. And I wouldn't worry about it for the sake of our imaginary grandchild, with the combined charm of you and I, I'm certain that no one would be able to resist loving her no matter how she acted."

Scarlett giggled again, her mind set somewhat at ease. Perhaps Rhett was right, perhaps it would become easier with time to deal with the fact that everyone looked down upon her. At least she had Rhett to talk to about it. Suddenly she became acutely aware of the important role Rhett filled in her life. If she didn't have him she'd have nobody to talk to.

'I'd probably go crazy then' she thought to herself.

"Rhett," she began hesitantly, playing with the folds of her lap robe, refusing to meet his eyes. "I… well… that is to say… I want to thank you. For being here for me to talk to I mean. For not judging me the way everyone else does. I know you like to tease me." she said, finally meeting his eyes, gaining a little confidence, "but despite that I can't help but feel that you do truly like me, even of only a little." she smiled rather sheepishly.

Rhett stared into those eyes that he had only recently accurately described as beautiful and said in the most serious and tender voice Scarlett had ever heard him use "Yes Scarlett I do like you."

"Well good," said Scarlett brightly trying to lighten the suddenly serious mood, "because I'm rather fond of you too."

"I'm glad."

They drove in companionable silence for a time, each consumed with their own thoughts. Scarlett, coming to grips with the new light in which she was seeing Rhett Butler, and Rhett allowing himself to build up the hopes he'd once had with regards to Scarlett O'Hara.

But then Aunt Pitty's house came into view and the mood turned dark. Their moments of pretty imaginings were over. They both had realities to live. Scarlett had to go home to a husband whom she did not love, and Rhett had to watch her do so.

"Rhett" said Scarlett suddenly. Anxiously, grabbing his arm and turning to face him, refusing to look into his face, aware of the shamefulness of what she was about to reveal.

"Rhett, I'm going to have a baby. Soon."

"I know you are Scarlett." he replied, sombrely, sadly.

"It won't be anything like our granddaughter." she said miserably but with a brave attempt at a smile as though she was trying to pretend what she was saying was a merry joke.

"No. I don't think there could ever be anyone quite like our granddaughter." he replied just as deadpan as she.

"Well, goodnight Rhett." she said, climbing out of his carriage and unknowingly lifting her chin and squaring her shoulders, preparing to brave whatever comments Frank or Aunt Pitty might have about the way she was conducting herself in her condition.

Her actions panged in Rhett's chest. "Goodnight Scarlett." He said, preparing to drive away.

"Oh Rhett" she cried out, calling him back. Rhett whirled around in his seat. "She doesn't have a name."

Rhett smiled sadly to himself. The situation was a hopeless one. Scarlett was married, it was all his fault and there was nothing he could do about it. But maybe, despite what he'd said to Scarlett earlier, he would dare to dream, if only a little.

"We'll decide on that next time my dear."

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This story was just a bit of fun. The words in italics in the beginning are all Margaret Mitchell's but I felt they were necessary to lead into the story, especially for those who love the movie but haven't read the book. This is one of my favourite moments in the book and I think it is far too understated and I couldn't help but think there was real room for a story here. Currently this is a one shot, but after finishing it I can't help but think there might be room for an actual story here. Please, if you've read this, let me know what you think. I'm rather nervous about posting it but I want to know how it is received. Thank you for reading.

Annie