Author's Note: This is actually made accordning to my list for the ficathon. So I challenge all other participants to write the story that they imagined from their list... and for more fun take any of the other lists and see what you can come up with...

Charles Hamilton rubbed his eyes wearily for the words were beginning to swim before his eyes. HE was more emotional about going off to war than he ever would reveal to anyone, least of all his young bride. He couldn't shake the image of her brilliant green eyes brimming with more unshed tears. And she had cried much of the time since their wedding. It was so heart breaking to know how much she was going to miss him. Finally in exasperation and exhaustion he sat down the heavy tome that he was currently reading. He needed something to pass the time, something that might prove usual once fighting commenced. It was then that he noticed that the man sitting across the aisle from him looked very familiar, but he was unable to place him.

The dark-haired man with his close clipped mustache must have sensed Charles's gaze surveying him. "Can I help you?" He asked in a voice that clearly indicated that he had been raised in Charleston which was the intended destination for the eastern bound train.

"I'm sorry, sir." Charles replied contritely. "I didn't mean to stare. It is just ... you seem very familiar. Do I know you?"

"Perhaps, you seem familiar as well. Were you at a barbecue in Clayton County on the day that the war began?" He returned solemnly.

"Indeed, I was. Were you at the Wilkes that day? I'm certain that I must have run into you. But so much has happened since then, that it is no wonder I couldn't place you."

"O, indeed. Have you been quite busy... Mr... I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name."

"Charles... Charles Hamilton, sir. And yes, that was the day that proposed to my wife. We could have waited to marry, but she was insistent that we marry before I left."

"Well, then, congratulations are in order, Mr. Hamilton. Where then are you going so soon after your wedding, if you don't mind me asking?"

"I'm joining Wade Hampton's South Carolina regiment. He was a friend of my father. It only seems right that I go with him. Although I do wish that I could have waited and spent more time with my bride." He said blushing crimson at his own statement.

"What is it that you were reading?" The dark gentleman inquired.

"I'm reading Herodotus's account of the Battle of Marathon. It really is quite riveting."

"Indeed, I find that Herodotus did record several very fascinating moments in history. It is always a pleasure to find someone interested in those accounts."

"I wish that my wife felt the same way," Charles said with a hint of a laugh in his voice. "Scarlett, is constantly prodding at me, well has been for the last week, about how I always have some pointless book in my hand. But she is such a beautiful darling, that I can't help but smile at her, even when she complains."

"Scarlett, did you say?"

"Scarlett O'Hara Hamilton. I would imagine that even if you didn't get a chance to meet her, you had to have noticed her. I don't know how I ended up being the lucky one to claim her as my own. She was so beautiful that day in her white dress with those little green flowers. I'm sure that you can forgive me for my inability to quite remember you."

The gentleman smiled. "I did notice her. I would have been blind to not see her. She seems quite the charmer."

Charles smiled dreamily. "I can't wait for this war to be over. I want to be back home with her. She was just so heartbroken at my leaving. I can still see the tears streaming down her face. She couldn't even quite look at me. She just kept glancing over my shoulder." He leaned closer to the gentleman in a conspiratorial manner. "It was almost as if she was trying to see back to the day the war began. She was staring over the hills towards Twelve Oaks. She was terribly distraught. It wrung my heart to leave after so short a time together." He blushed once again, embarrassed at his disclosure to a man that was still a stranger. "Are you married?"

"No." He said simply. "I'm not a marrying man."

Charles seemed startled by this admission. "I apologize for asking questions that I have no right to ask. What did you say your name was, sir."

"Rhett Butler, at your service." He finally offered.

At the name, a light seemed to flame behind Charles's soft brown eyes. "Why, sir, I do recall you after all. I seem to remember you saying that the South could not win."

"I did indeed. And I regret that I caused such a disruption to the merriment, but I still hold those same beliefs. The South can not win. We have neither the man power, nor the industry to maintain an army for long against the vast supplies of the Yankees."

Charles stiffened with each breath that his companion offered. "I believe in the necessity of defending our right to secede. They have no business interfering in affairs that are not their own." Charles huffed.

"I'm not arguing that point. But mark my words, it is the entire south that will suffer,not just the hotheaded fools that are pushing the entire world into a fight that cannot be won. You are so excited about your new bride, but I have to wonder if you will even get to see her again. Men, boys, they will die. And it is all for stubborn pride."