Disclaimer: All recognisable characters belong to HiT Entertainment. The characters Jim and Ellie belong to Speckless Nougat. All other OCs belong to me.

Chapter 1 - Jock's Injury

It was almost summertime on the Island of Sodor. All of the engines were working very hard as they helped to prepare the island for the rush of holiday visitors. However, not many of the engines were looking forward to the summer. More passengers meant more work, and more work meant less time to rest. Despite that, they didn't complain. Well, none of them except for James… And Gordon… And Percy… And…well, I think you get the picture.

On the Arlesdale Miniature Railway, Mike was the only engine complaining about the coming summer crowds. And he didn't let any of the others forget it.

"Frank should do some more of the work around here, so I don't have to take passenger trains!" he grumbled.

"Frank already does his fair share of hard work," Bert admonished him. "We all do."

"Perhaps it's time our owners built another engine," Jock suggested. "After all, I can't be expected to do all of the heavy work around here. And with Rex currently out of service while he undergoes his overhaul, it would be best to have another engine here as a spare just in case."

The other engines agreed. However, when they asked the Small Controller about the possibility of having a new engine built, he quashed the idea.

"Rex will be back at work before the holidays," he assured them. "I'm sure you'll all be able to manage our extra visitors. You've always managed them perfectly well in the past."

Disappointed, the engines got back to work. They had to ensure that the railway was looking its best for the summer visitors.

…

However, just a few days later, disaster struck. Jock was shunting together his train of coaches for his next journey, when he heard a loud 'crack' and a clatter. Less than a second later, something solid whacked him hard beneath his frame.

"Ouch!" Jock yelped. "What happened?"

"It sounds like you've broken a crank pin," Jock's driver said as he cautiously applied the brakes. He got down to look. Sure enough, one of Jock's side rods had come loose, and it had become jammed up underneath his running board. The driver instinctively reached out to remove it, but Jock yelped again as soon as he touched it.

"Ow! No, don't touch it!" Jock exclaimed. Now that the shock was wearing off, poor Jock could feel the full extent of his injury.

Jock's shrieks of pain soon brought the Small Controller running to the scene. He looked extremely concerned when he saw the extensive damage done to Jock's frame.

"I'm so sorry, sir," Jock apologised through his tears.

"It's all right, Jock," the Small Controller assured him. "This wasn't your fault. But I think we may have to try and find a spare engine after all now. I'll just go and arrange for one of the other engines to push you into the workshop."

…

Inside the Works at Crovan's Gate, Jim Pearson, the foreman, approached a team of workers around Oliver. They were talking and laughing with the Great Western Engine, who'd arrived at the Works only about an hour earlier for some minor repairs to his spark arrestor, and a fresh coat of paint.

"Ellie?" Jim called as he climbed up inside Oliver's cab.

Ellie Briggs, who was, unofficially, Jim's second-in-command, promptly jumped down off Oliver's front running board. 'Jumped' was probably the wrong word to use though, considering Ellie's age, but she was still fairly agile, and strong enough to climb all over the engines whenever she needed to.

"Yes, Jim?"

Jim reached into a special slot just below the roof inside Oliver's cab, which contained the Great Western engine's log book. All of the engines on Sodor had log books, carried inside their cabs. Even though the engines could usually tell the fitters what was wrong with them, the log books were an invaluable record for diagnosing when a problem first began. Since none of the engines ever enjoyed going to the Works, some of them were in the habit of trying to hide problems from their crew, or downplaying the problem. That was exactly what Oliver had done. As Jim glanced through Oliver's log book, he noted that Oliver had been suffering from steaming difficulties for the past couple of weeks. Sighing, he shook his head in disbelief.

"You probably wouldn't have needed to come here, Oliver, if you'd told your crew as soon as you were feeling poorly. It doesn't take long to change a spark arrestor in the yard. It could've been done by a couple of fitters one morning, and you would've been back at work that afternoon."

Even from inside the cab, Jim could feel that Oliver was genuinely ashamed. "I'm sorry. It won't happen again."

Until next time… Jim thought as Ellie joined him inside the cab. "Ellie, could you please organise your team, and get started on Oliver's repairs?"

"Of course. I was just doing that…" Ellie faltered.

"Until you were distracted, right?"

"Uh, yeah." Ellie chuckled sheepishly. She took Oliver's log book from Jim. "Sorry. We'll get started on it right now."

Jim's mobile phone rang then, making Oliver jump. He shuddered once he realised what the loud noise was.

"Don't like those portable phone things," Oliver mumbled. "What was wrong with the old phones you people used to have?"

Jim ignored Oliver's complaints, and he answered the phone. "Jim speaking…uhuh. I see… Well, if I leave now, I can be there in about half an hour. All right. I'll be there as soon as I can." After Jim had hung up, he climbed down from the cab. "Ellie?"

"Yes?"

"I'm going to have to leave you in charge for a couple of hours."

"Why? What's happened?"

"Jock's had an accident, and they need my expertise and advice to make him comfortable until he can be repaired."

"Oh no! How did it happen?"

"I understand that one of his crank pins broke."

Oliver winced in sympathy for the little engine. "I had a crank pin break once, when I was young, long before I came here. They're extremely painful."

"Which is why I need to get going. I'll just grab Jock's blueprints, and then I'll be on my way. You're in charge, Ellie."

Ellie nodded, and she turned her attention back to the workers around her. "Now…"

"Can we raid Jim's office while he's gone?" one of the female workers asked. "I've heard that he keeps bags of chocolates behind a false wall in his bar fridge."

"Maybe later," Ellie replied with a wink. "Right now, we do have much more important things to do."

"What could be more important than chocolate?"

Oliver cleared his throat. "Uh, me?"

Ellie couldn't contain her laughter a moment longer!

…

Meanwhile, inside the small workshop at Arlesburgh, Jock was concentrating on taking one deep breath at a time. It was the only way he could manage the excruciating pain he was in. He wished that he could talk to Rex, but the little green engine was in a coma (and in pieces), due to his heavy overhaul. Jock sighed unhappily. He hated seeing one of his friends like that, but he knew that these men only pulled engines apart to fix them up. It wouldn't be long before they put Rex back together again, and then he'd be able to get back to work.

One of the fitters came over to Jock. "Easy Jock," he soothed. "I'm afraid we can't do much until you're cool, but we can remove the damaged side rod, if you'll let us."

"Will it stop the pain?" Jock mumbled.

"No, but it should ease it a little."

"All right then."

The fitter pulled on a pair of thick leather gloves. Another fitter came over to help. Together, they yanked Jock's broken side rod off. Jock screamed.

"You said it wouldn't hurt much!" he shouted as he gasped for air.

"How should I know? I'm not an engine!"

If looks could kill, the fitter would've been fried in an instant. Unfortunately for the Small Controller, he chose that precise moment to enter the workshop.

"I heard a scream. Is everything all right in here?"

"That was me," Jock said bluntly.

"Oh. Well, uh, the Works' foreman is on his way. He should be able to do something to make you more comfortable."

"Taking me to pieces would be a great start!" Jock spat. "I wouldn't be able to feel anything then."

"Don't tempt me!" the fitter retorted, pointing a spanner directly at Jock's nose. The miniature engine snorted, and he screwed up his face. If his aim was to look cranky, he failed miserably. Being a miniature engine meant that nearly every expression they pulled ended up looking cute.

A car raced into the yard then. "Hopefully, that'll be Jim," the Small Controller muttered, and he hurried out of the workshop. He returned a moment later, followed by Jim, who was carrying Jock's blueprints. Jock had only met Jim a few times over the years, but he'd playing a very important role when Jock was built. In fact, Jim had been the very first person Jock had seen when he'd woken up for the very first time. Even so, the foreman always put Jock on edge. For some reason, he always felt intimidated by the man. Maybe it was because Jim knew every single aspect about Jock, both inside and out. That made Jock feel somewhat conspicuous whenever Jim was around him.

"All right then, Jock," Jim began as he placed Jock's blueprints down on a nearby workbench. "Let's see what you've done to yourself…" He whistled shrilly when he saw the extent of the damage to Jock's frame. "Wow! I haven't seen damage that bad since Edward shattered his crank pin…"

Jock rolled his eyes. "Are you gonna help me, or just stand there goggling?"

"Now, Jock…" the Small Controller said warningly. "Just because you're in pain, there's no need for rudeness."

"Don't worry about it," Jim replied dismissively. "He's actually quite tame compared with the verbal abuse some engines give us in the Works." He turned to face the small team of fitters. "How are you planning to repair him?"

The fitter who'd removed Jock's damaged side rod stepped forward. "We were planning to cut out the damaged area of his frame, and then weld a new section into place."

Jim shook his head. "That won't do. Maybe in the old days you could've gotten away with it, but even an engine as small as this one carries half of their weight on their frame."

"Who are you calling 'small'?" Jock sniffed.

"Jock, if you don't shut up immediately, I'll stuff a rag in your mouth!" the Small Controller threatened. Gulping, Jock promptly bit his tongue. Amazingly, that seemed to ease the ache in his frame.

Jim resumed talking. "For Jock's future benefit, you'd better do the job properly now. His boiler will need to be lifted and placed into a new frame. We can build his new frame at the Works, but it'll take us at least two weeks, depending on what other emergencies crop up."

"So, what you're saying is that Jock will be out of service for at least a month?" the Small Controller asked.

Jim nodded. "At best. I'd be guesstimating at least two months though."

"Two months?" Jock exclaimed in despair.

"I'm sorry, Jock," Jim told the little engine sadly. "We'll get you back to work as soon as possible though."

"And in the meantime, we'll be down at least one engine for the start of the summer holidays," the Small Controller mumbled to himself. Then, louder, he said, "I'm driving to Knapford to talk to Sir Topham. I should be back in about an hour."

…

Inside his office at Knapford, the Fat Controller was busy doing paperwork, and munching on a cinnamon doughnut, when the Small Controller knocked on the open door. Looking up, the Fat Controller smiled as the taller man entered the office.

"Fergus! It's good to see you. Come in, please, and take a seat."

"Thank you, Sir Topham. I hope I haven't disturbed you, because I've come to see you about a very serious situation that has developed."

The Fat Controller put the remains of his doughnut back on the plate. "Go on."

"I don't know if you've heard the news yet, but in case you haven't, Jock broke down earlier this morning."

The Fat Controller was immediately concerned. "I'm sorry to hear that. Will he be all right?"

"I believe so, although he is in a great deal of pain. He's being well looked after though. Jim Pearson is looking after him now. I'm sure he'll let you know if we need to send him to your Works, but I think the men I have should be able to repair him, under Jim's guidance. But what this means is that we're now down two engines, and with the summer holidays fast approaching…"

"I see what you mean," the Fat Controller frowned. Then he sighed thoughtfully. "What we really need is another engine for the Arlesdale Railway."

"I agree. But there are very few fifteen-inch gauge engines left, and those that are for sale are very expensive to purchase. Maybe we could hire one for the summer?"

"We could…" the Fat Controller paused as he pulled a small catalogue out of a drawer. "But you might like to see this first. It was sent to me just the other day by a friend of mine," he said, handing it over. The Small Controller began thumbing through it.

"This is just ex-army stuff up for auction from a deceased estate," he said, stating the obvious.

"Take a look at what's on page five."

The Small Controller turned to the page. He was surprised by what he saw. Astonished, he glanced up at the Fat Controller.

"We could go to London the day after tomorrow," the Fat Controller decided. "I'll let Sir Handel Brown know what's happened, since we'll need his co-operation if we're going to make a joint purchase."

The Small Controller frowned as he looked at the catalogue again. "It might be best to bring Jim along too. He'll be able to give us his expert opinion on its condition."

The Fat Controller nodded in agreement. "No doubt he'll want to bring along Ms Briggs with him."

"Who?"

"Mr Pearson's assistant. I think her first name is Ellie, or something like that. Surely you've met her?"

The Small Controller shrugged. "Probably, but I'm not great at remembering names. So, I guess we'll be catching the eleven o'clock express to London the day after tomorrow then?"

"Yes. The auction starts the following day, so we should have plenty of time to relax, and maybe we could do a bit of sight-seeing in the capital."

"Great! It's been years since I last went to London. Never liked cities much, but I could get my wife a nice gift from Harrods."

"That's settled then!"

The sound of a noisy argument outside caught both of their attention at that moment. The Fat Controller groaned audibly, and he stood up to leave.

"Excuse me, please. When I hear Thomas and Gordon raising their voices, I know that something bad is about to happen…"

Grabbing his top hat, the Fat Controller hurried out onto the platform. The Small Controller watched what happened next from the window. But he needn't have bothered. The Fat Controller's booming voice could be heard loud and clear.

"THOMAS THE TANK ENGINE! Stop teasing Gordon, and get back to your work! Those trucks aren't going to shunt themselves!"