Hello everyone!

This had been an idea that had been trotting in my mind for a long time, that of Rhett meeting and becoming Scarlett's friend much earlier, and I wanted to explore this idea. As I'm a few chapters away from finishing A Million Nights to Get Us Back, I told myself, why not now?

Let's be clear, there is no apology of pedophilia in this story. At the beginning, Scarlett is 7, and Rhett is certainly not going to lust after a child.

Do not hesitate to tell me what you think about it!

...

Prologue

1852, Charleston.

Rhett Butler was certainly quite handsome, but people in general seldom dared say it to him as it was obvious he already knew about it. It was all in his air of self-confidence, how his head was held high and straight, his features that, despite a dark complexion, were perfectly regular and energetic, with that thin hawk nose and high forehead.

Yet, there was a savage glint in his black eyes, a malicious twitch on these full red lips that unsettled, questioned, and gave the insidious notion that he was up to mischief, and would not hesitate to use any information he had to make himself successful in whatever scandal he intended to create.

At twenty-four, he was already quite considered the rake in many states, and it wasn't just because he had been banished from West Point, then from the Paradise Lost of Dunmore Landing after a somber affair that had it all for a successful novel: a rogue, a lamb, the hint of thwarted love and violated honor that finished in blood and loss.

Not that it was the truth of it, but no one was interested in the truth of it anyway.

No. There were other things, more somber than that. But of those, no one had any proof of it, and the young man carefully kept them to himself.

To be true, Rhett did not quite know why he was in Charleston now. A foolish hope, maybe. A lost cause, but he already knew by then that he was a lover of such causes, for they certainly were the most exciting ones.

And then, there was his sister. His baby sister, little Rosemary, who he had heard would be playing in the park he was now. Little Rosemary, who was barely a baby when he left with only his clothes on his body, and the sharp sound of the pen crossing his name on the family Bible.

He had some money now, quite a lot of it from his perilous last adventure in the West, and why not see if at least he could get some little comfort out of a sibling's love that was not yet entirely corrupted by the Pater Familias?

Yet, the more he waited, the more he thought that maybe, his informers had been wrong. Or maybe, the plans had been changed, as his Honorable father might have learned of his intention.

Damn him. Damn him and his pride. Damn his mother for siding with him, for being the shadow of his shadow, and still giving the prodigal son a hope that maybe it would all be alright someday. Rhett was no child to believe it now. He did not believe in it long before the ban was erected.

Leaning against an apple tree, he sighed and dusted his elegant tailored suit, his observant eyes scanning over his surroundings, the Southern sun giving a hazy glow to the rich green grass and deep foliage of the numerous cypress and fruit trees at that end of one perfect summer day.

He was about to open a book when suddenly, he felt the pain of a round, solid object thrown at his head.

"By God," He cursed. "What in the devil…"

There again, another apple was thrown, and he could only raise his arm just in time to protect his face from it. He tried to find where could his assailant be, yet, the greenery was so dense he could only see a hint of a little yellow dress, and the tiny white hand throwing the projectiles.

"You overpassed your privilege, mister!" He heard the voice of a girl, strong and self-affirmed unlike those he had heard before. "This is my tree!"

This was no little mousy voice that pleaded and apologized, he reflected. This was the voice of a girl that was used to order and get her way.

"Is it war you're declaring on me, little miss?" He raised an eyebrow, though he was not quite sure his adversary could see it.

"I'm not little!" The girl shouted, green eyes flashing dangerously through the leaves as she prepared to throw another apple. "And I'm a lady, like my mother is."

"I doubt I'd see your mother climb trees, whoever she is. And throw apples at gentlemen."

"You're no gentleman, mister."

"An acute observation, little miss. What could have made you think so?"

"Well, you're not gentle."

"But I'm a man."

"That doesn't make you a gentleman."

"But that doesn't say I'm not."

"You're…"

"Miz Scarlett!"

The girl let out a little shriek, and Rhett looked with interest at the great big black woman that came running in a dark heavy dress and white cotton apron, a deep scowl in her otherwise good-natured face.

"Oh no. She's very angry…" He heard a whimper from the tree.

He smirked.

"I think someone is looking for you, little one," He said nonchalantly.

"Sh, silly! I'm hiding!"

"Oho! And, from whom, may I ask?"

She mouthed "Mammy."

"Ain't fitting making me run so, Miss Scarlett!" The woman shouted as she continued looking, her sharp eyes glaring at each corner with a look that promised severe punishment.

Through the foliage, Rhett saw the girl's eyes widened as he made the gesture to come to her mammy. "Oh please, mister, do keep the secret, I beg of you! If she finds me, she's going to whip me!"

"And you deserve nothing less, little lady," Rhett answered cheekily. "A good whipping for a very bad girl. In fact, I'd be tempted to do it myself."

"Oh, you!"

It was with great fury, the girl heard him call her mammy, and she seemed very determined to stay safely hidden up there. But it was also with a deep surprise that she heard him leading the black servant elsewhere, and even if the huge and imposing woman narrowed her eyes at him, she nonetheless followed the given direction.

After a few minutes, as they could not see the mammy anymore, the girl said in awe. "You've helped me…"

"I like to think that I can keep little girls' secrets," He said quietly. "Now, tell me why you're hiding."

In her voice, he heard such an indignant tone he wanted to laugh. "That's Suellen's fault. She told Mother I had been swimming with the Tarleton twins the other day in my shimmy, and now I can't do anything fun! And here, I thought in this new city, I'd be let at peace!"

"Oh, the deep sufferings of childhoods, of not getting what one wants…" He jeered lightly.

"Exactly!" She cried with insistence. "And what was I supposed to do, die of heat and boredom like the other girls, when the boys could jump in? Fiddle-dee-dee, that's too unfair!"

"My dear, you're a girl of rare spirit."

He was about to guffaw when suddenly they heard a bigger voice, deep and with a strong Irish accent.

"Scarlett, get down from here this instant, and stop bothering every gentleman you find!"

The girl froze, and Rhett realized it must be her father.

Yet, in her jitteriness, she lost her balance, and she tried to regain it by gripping at a few branches,

Rhett was at first amused, but then he heard a crack, and a little cry that sounded like a mew, and suddenly, by some incredible reflex he didn't know, he caught her in his arms, the fluffy skirts of her dress almost knocking him down.

She let out a surprised "Oh", before flustering.

She must have been ten, or maybe less, Rhett did not quite know. There was something in her that hinted at a more mature state of mind than what was expected for such a small child, and a wilderness in the eyes that caught him unaware. She was not what was accepted as beautiful, for her features were not regular as they could have been. She had a pointed chin, and her jaw was a bit too square, and her straight black hair, though beautiful by itself, was not fashionably curly. There was still the plumpness of her childhood, yet there was a potential in that girl that he cynically observed would turn many heads later.

However, it was more the wilderness of hers that attracted his sympathy from the first, like a lost memory of his careless youth. In that, he felt a kindred that he did not analyze at first. For then, the father's girl was already by his side, and he had to hand her to who claimed her.

This was a little man, yet heavy as a barrel and with the presence of a larger one. His clear blue eyes were hard, but when they rested on the girl, there was a warmth in it that alighted his round, amicable face.

"There's my Puss, climbin', and hidin' like a true wildcat!" The man bellowed joyously, as he gathered her into his arms. "Well, my lass, you're in a right state! You're lucky this man caught you up!"

"He's lucky I haven't knocked him down on the way!"

The father roared in laughter, and Rhett couldn't help an amused grin as well.

"And who are you, my boy?"

"Rhett Butler, to serve you," He answered with an ironic bow.

The man grinned, and shook his hand enthusiastically, as he put down the girl.

"I like you. Gerald O'Hara, and this is my lass Scarlett. Come to dinner tonight. I want to know who saved my Puss."

"But Pa!" The girl protested.

"My girl, he saved you, and you better show him how grateful you are he did, or, by the name of Gerald O'Hara, I swear I'll make you hide for somethin'!"

Little Scarlett pouted and crossed her arms in protest. There, her father raised her chin and gave her a most warning glance, that was softened by some tenderness that provoked what looked a little like envy in Rhett's black heart. She faltered and nodded.

"So, it's settled," Said Gerald grinned, before turning to the younger man. "You're coming tonight."

At this, Rhett nodded, befuddled, yet he could see that Mister O'Hara would not accept any refusal to his suggestion.

And anyway, he was already quite curious at what he may find.

Gerald O'Hara was so content with this new encounter that, when his wife learned of it and strongly objected, he did not waver and instead was even more determined to get his way.

And thus, was the beginning of the end for Rhett Butler, whose life was suddenly caught in a greater wind than had been expected.