My Darlin' Cousin

by darthmaul90

All is well on the Island of Sodor for Erika and Gordon. But how will things get shaken up when a new locomotive claiming to be her cousin shows up on the island? Meet Daemon, the Cotton Belt #819 and an L-1 / GS-8 class Northern. My thanks to The Raging Blue Flame for letting me use her characters in my story

6. Chapter 6: Love, Rivalry & Risk, Part 2

My Darlin' Cousin, Chapter 6 – Love, Rivalry & Risk, Part 2

Puffing on a cheroot, Sit Topham Hatt sat in his Tidmouth office reviewing the sales report from the first two days of the festival. He couldn't have been happier with what he was reading. When he'd first planned the festival, he'd expected to have between eighteen and twenty thousand people in attendance over the entire four days. But if the report he was looking at was accurate, and he no reason to suspect it wasn't, then just over thirty-two thousand had already attended and they were only halfway through the festival.

With some quick mental math, Sir Topham Hatt guessed that if the current rate kept up, they'd have between sixty and sixty-five thousand attend the festival by the time it was all over… more than three times his original estimate. It all but guaranteed that the Island of Sodor would be putting on another festival like this next year. When this festival was over, he's have to talk with his "American team" about ideas and special guests for the next one.

He checked his watch. The day's festivities were about to get underway. As part punishment for their behavior the past two days, Sir Topham Hatt had ordered Hank and Connor to double-head an excursion trip to Ballahoo and back. Looking out his window, he saw the two of them in the station coupled together with Connor leading, waiting for the festival goers to board. Neither of them looked particularly happy to be doing the assignment but Sir Topham Hatt didn't care. The night before he had warned them both that if they allowed their rivalry to get the best of them just once more during the festival, they'd both spend the next two months hauling heavy rock trains out of the Ffarquahar Quarry.

Sitting his back in his chair and sipping a cup of hot, Earl Grey tea, Sir Topham Hatt thought about heading out the roundhouse to tell the other engines about the success of the festival thus far. He promptly discarded that idea. If he announced a repeat festival for next year too soon, that might prompt Hank and Connor to get disruptive again. "Better keep this one under my hat for a little while longer," he mumbled to himself. Sir Topham Hatt then realized what he'd just said and laughed at his own joke.

Well maybe he wouldn't about another festival just yet, but he would pay the engines a visit. He quickly downed the rest of his tea, crushed out his cheroot, put on his hat and headed out to the roundhouse.

Aside from the double-head trip of Connor and Hank, day three of the festival began with Rosie getting the call for the Peel Godred excursion and Erika hauling a freight photo op train to Arlesburgh. It was a job she would've rather not done, but she was willing to put up with it for the cameras. At least the short string of freight cars she hauled were for show only and therefore, empty.

People by the hundreds would follow the track in their cars to several prearranged photo spots. Erika would then go steaming by the location back and forth a few times so everyone could pictures of her. It was supposed to give the people who didn't normally see them, a chance to photograph the engines doing their "daily chores."

Hauling freight was hardly Erika's daily job, but as long as it gave the people a thrill and it showed off her Daylight paint, she was okay with it. Daemon would repeat the freight photo op this afternoon while Connor had been stuck with it on the last day of the festival. He'd complained about it more than Erika had until Sir Topham Hatt had threatened to send him back to Ulfstead Castle for the remainder of the festival. That had finally shut him up.

Daemon however, didn't seem to be too bothered by the fact that he'd be on a freight photo op. In fact, as Erika thought about it, Daemon didn't seem to be bothered by actually pulling freight trains. "Why would I be bothered by that?" he'd once said. "It work and shoot, I can haul a hundred o' them danged freight cars if I need ta."

The more Erika thought about it, the more Daemon's statement made sense to her. The every-other-day Salad Bowl Express had pretty much become his job, though it remained to be seen whether or not he'd maintain that job once the New Line was open. That was fine with Erika. Let Daemon haul freight. He deserved it.

But now that summer was full swing, Daemon was pulling the Midday Nor' Western Daylight again and that burned Erika to fire grates. That plain black engine who still had the audacity to call himself a GS-8 was pulling her train. Somehow, some way she had to get him off that train. She snorted loudly and, not for the first time, wondered what had possessed Sir Topham Hatt to bring Daemon to the Island of Sodor.

"Erika, stop it!" Samantha warned her. "Or you'll be shooting fire out of your stack!"

Erika realized that she'd worked herself up so much, that her fire was running way hotter than usual and was threatening to be sucked into her flues. That was all right to point, but if it went too far up her flues they could overheat and warp. That would certainly mean new flues and quite possibly a complete boiler rebuild. Either way, she'd be out of action for weeks, if not months.

"Sorry," Erika apologized as she calmed down slightly and allowed her fire to recede to more acceptable intensity. "I just… had something on my mind."

Samantha looked across the cab at Sarah and both women shook their heads and rolled their eyes. Erika might have though she was fooling them, but they knew what Erika "had on her mind." Samantha was getting fed up with it as well as Erika's behavior. Another incident like that and she was going to force Erika to settle it with Daemon once and for all even if she had to dump Erika's fire and lock her in a shed with Daemon until it was settled. Enough was enough.

At that moment though, Erika couldn't have cared less what her crew thought. The mere fact that Daemon was still on this island was enough to get her fire raging. But the last couple weeks, things hadn't been that good between her and "her big, strong, express" either. Just earlier this morning she and Gordon had a short time to sneak off by themselves for a make-out session… a make-out session that deteriorated into an argument right before her very eyes.

Gordon had repeated a joke to her that Daemon had told him the previous evening and she'd gotten upset about it. Looking back, it had been silly for her to get upset. The joke actually had been very funny, but just the fact that it had originated from Daemon had been enough to rile her up. Add the fact that Gordon seemed to be enjoying Daemon's company or worse, actually becoming friends with him, had sent Erika over the edge. The whole exchange with Gordon had ended with him telling her to get her faceplate out of her tender and steaming away in huff, leaving Erika sitting there crying and wishing she could take the whole incident back.

Erika would have to apologize to Gordon later, but then he'd probably ask for the umpteenth time why she was so mad at Daemon. And he'd just get pissed off again when she wouldn't answer him. They didn't understand. None of them did. So what good did it do to talk about it?

Arriving back in Tidmouth just in time for lunch, Erika was surprised to see that a huge crowd had gathered around Daemon, Edith, Caitlin, Connor and Hank who had both returned from Ballahoo not long before. She could hear music and singing. And when she finally got a good look as to what was happening Erika was floored to see Bruce playing his guitar and Edith's driver, Brett, playing a banjo for a crowd of people that had gathered around him. But what surprised Erika the most was the fact that the two of them were singing a railroad version of a popular trucking song and Daemon was singing along with them.

Daemon singing? Erika couldn't imagine anything more irritating being generated by Daemon's voice. But the gathered people as well as the other engines seemed to be really enjoying it. And as the tune went on, she found herself keeping time with the music and enjoying the performance more and more.

Westbound and down

Eighteen wheels a-rollin'

We gonna do what they say can't be done

We got a long way ta go

And a short time ta git there

I'm westbound, just watch ol' Bandit run

Old Smokey's got them ears on

And he's hot on your trail

He ain't gonna rest 'til you're in jail

So you gotta dodge 'im and you gotta duck 'im

Ya gotta keep that tonnage rollin'

Just yank that throttle back and give it hell

Westbound and down

Eighteen wheels a-rollin'

We gonna do what they say can't be done

We got a long way ta go

And a short time ta git there

I'm westbound, just watch ol' Bandit run

"Everybody!" Daemon yelled. And everyone gathered joined in. Even the other engines including Edith gave it their all.

Now old Smokey's got them ears on

And he's hot on your trail

He ain't gonna rest 'til you're in jail

So you gotta dodge 'im and you gotta duck 'im

Ya gotta keep that tonnage rollin'

Just yank that throttle back and give it hell

Westbound and down

Eighteen wheels a-rollin'

We gonna do what they say can't be done

We got a long way ta go

And a short time ta git there

I'm westbound, just watch ol' Bandit run

Now I'm westbound, just watch ol' Bandit run

A loud chorus of applause went up from the crowd as the song ended and Bruce and Brett each took a bow. "All right," Daemon said with a big smile as the applause continued. "That was wonderful. Bravo everybody. Well done."

From across Erika's cab, Samantha said to Sarah. "You get the feeling we just missed a good time?"

"Yeah," Sarah sighed wistfully.

In the middle of the crowd, Edith smiled at Daemon. "Oh Daemon, thank you for that. It was lovely." She then addressed Bruce. "And Bruce, I am very impressed. I have to confess, I thought I was the only engine lucky enough to have such a talented musician for an engineer."

That embarrassed Brett and he blushed. "Edith…" he said quietly.

Edith laughed. Poor Brett blushed whenever she bragged about him to others and the more she laid it on, the redder he got. It tickled her to no end. "You'll have to excuse my dear driver, Bruce. He gets quite shy whenever I boast about him. Which admittedly is quite often. After all, who wouldn't want to boast about someone so special? At least that's what his wife always tells me."

That just got Brett even redder as Edith had intended. "Edith, please… I'm really not that special."

A young woman with a slender body, long jet-black hair and glasses adorning her oval face wrapped her arm around Brett and rested her chin on his shoulder. "Perhaps she just finds you as handsome as I do my love," she said with an east-European accent. She then leaned in and kissed him full and hard on the lips.

In Erika's cab, Sarah's eyes widened as she witnessed the scene. "Is that Baroness Anastasia, Brett's wife?" she said in surprise.

"What? Who? I wanna see," Samantha said. She quickly crossed the cab and got a look out Sarah's window. Her eyes went wide almost immediately and she turned to look at an equally stunned Sarah.

"Dayum!" they said in unison.

"I know that you and I have got nothing to be ashamed of," Samantha said as she crossed back over to her seat. "But dayum! I can't help but wonder what it's like for him to snuggle next to that body at night."

"I'd give my right arm to have that body," Sarah confessed.

"You, me and three-quarters of the women on this island," Samantha corrected. She laughed. "Those that wouldn't are too old to care."

Sarah and Samantha laughed easily.

Erika was oblivious to the conversation of her driver and firewoman. She was more interested in what was going on with her sister and those crowded around her. "What did I miss here?" she asked.

"Oh Erika, there you are," Edith said, finally noticing that her sister had returned. "You should've been here. Bruce, Brett and our cousin here have been keeping us all entertained with music and song."

Erika bristled at Edith's mention of "our cousin."

"Yeah lil' darlin'," Daemon agreed. "We can sing a few more songs if you'd like ta join us."

"No thank you," Erika said flatly. "I'm an engine, not a songstress."

"Suit yourself lil' darlin'," Daemon said.

"Edith?" Erika asked, not quite believing what her own eyes were telling her. That Edith was willingly participating in a sing-a-long.

"Erika, this is a festival in case you've forgotten," Edith reminded her. "Don't be so dreary. Get festive. It is what is typically done at festivals after all."

"You know Daemon," Connor observed. "You've been calling yourself Erika's cousin since we've known you. I am therefore assuming that you and Erika met before you arrived here on Sodor?"

"Why yes, we did," Daemon said proudly.

"I think I speak for us all when I said that we'd all like to hear how you met each other," Connor said.

"Yeah," Hank agreed.

"I sure would," Caitlin encouraged.

"Well…" Daemon began.

Erika cut him off abruptly. "I don't think that's a story that needs to be told frankly."

"What's your problem Erika?" Edith demanded. "I personally am very much interested in how my cousin met my little sister. Unless there's something in the story that's embarrassing to you?"

"Certainly not," Erika stated flatly.

"Then what's the problem Erika?" Edith wondered.

"Edith, it's just that…"

Edith cut her short, realizing she'd made a mistake in allowing Erika to attempt any sort of explanation. "Erika, I'm going to make this simple for you… sing or listen to Daemon's story. Take your pick, but choose."

Erika was furious that Edith was making such a demand of her. "And if I refuse?" she growled.

"Then I shall choose for you little sister," Edith fired back.

Everything in Erika wanted to scream at Daemon and demand to know just how he had managed to corrupt her proud sister. And she wanted to scream at Edith too for allowing Daemon to corrupt her. But, maybe that was being just a tiny bit silly. "Oh all right, fine," she gave in. "Tell the story. Just don't let it linger and let me get turned around on the table there before you get started. I want to make sure you tell it accurately."

"That's the spirit Erika," Edith smiled, pleased that her younger sister seemed to be lightening up, if only just a little bit.

"Yeah lil' darlin'," Daemon agreed. He patiently waited until Erika had returned from the turntable before he began. "Well now lil' darlin' and I met in the late spring of '54." His expression became a little somber as he uttered his next statement. "A good friend of mine was livin' out her final days. "

Dallas, Texas – May, 1954

Sitting in the Cadiz Roundhouse waiting for his next assignment, Daemon looked upon the other engines with a mixture of depression and pride. What Scarlett had told him a few years ago was coming true faster than anyone could believe. The diesels were replacing the steam engines with alarming frequency and even though their drivers assured them that there would never be a day when there would be no more steam locomotives, those assurances appeared to be backed up with nothing more than false hopes and empty promises.

So many changes had happened in the last few years, Daemon scarcely where to start. Moses had been completely bumped from the Texas Special last year and was now reduced to running light freight between Dallas and San Antonio. Jeremiah had been retired two years earlier and donated to the city of Fort Worth. Daemon hadn't seen him since the day he'd left the property. And although Maria was still running freight between Dallas and Amarillo, she wasn't running anywhere near as often as she once had been.

Daemon had also been forced to say good bye to most of his brothers. Not long after Jeremiah was retired, Cotton Belt's parent company, the Southern Pacific, had leased Daemon and several of his brothers for work on parts of the Southern Pacific system where there were locomotive shortages. Dustin and Daryl had been among those leased and they had been sent to work commuter trains out of San Francisco.

Daemon was therefore, a little disheartened to learn that his lease was taking him to the far side of Texas instead of the west coast. He'd ended up in El Paso working heavy freight on the SP's Rio Grande and San Antonio Divisions. Though he'd enjoyed the work, he'd been a little homesick as most of the other engines out there had been diesels and they hadn't been real friendly towards him. Fortunately, the lease hadn't lasted but a few months and before long, he was back where he felt he belonged. But even Dallas was starting to feel like a place that no longer needed or wanted him.

The one thing that was bright spot in the whole affair was that with SP's lease came an automatic re-classification to coincide with SP's own 4-8-4 class designations. The long and the short of it meant that Daemon class had officially changed from L-1 to GS-8 and was something Daemon was incredibly proud of.

Daemon had heard of the GS series of locomotives and their striking red, orange and black "Daylight" paint scheme… the same color scheme that adorned his friend, Trina. They were stars of the west coast, pulling passenger trains like the Coast Daylight, Starlight and San Joaquin Daylight up and down California. His driver, Howard, had even gone so far as to explain that the entire Cotton Belt L-1 series of engines was designed to be a slightly modified and scaled-down GS-1 series locomotive.

So far Daemon had never met one of his GS "cousins" and at the rate diesels were replacing steam engines, it didn't seem like he ever would. At least that's what Thibodeaux and Boudreaux kept taunting him with. Oooooh, those two really scorched his crown sheet. He'd once thought that Chief and Warrior were bad enough when it came to rude and impersonal diesels. But those two "doggone Cajun pole cats" made Chief and Warrior look like saints.

Thibodeaux and Boudreaux were twin Alco PA-1s painted in Southern Pacific's classic "Daylight" livery, yet adorned with Cotton Belt lettering and emblems. Thibodeaux wore the number 300 and Boudreaux wore number 301. The pair had arrived a few years earlier from the Alco factory in Schenectady, New York and promptly taken over the Morning Star train. The result had been Daemon getting bumped to the lower-priority and shorter distance, Lone Star train… as they never tired of reminding him.

Daemon didn't particularly mind. More than once since then he'd had to substitute for the brothers on the Morning Star who were notoriously prone to breaking down or else damaging their coaches with their carelessness. Cotton Belt management had been wondering for a while if they'd made a mistake in replacing Daemon with the PA-1 brothers, but so far had not done anything to reverse the situation. Still, he counted is blessings. At least he wasn't hauling freight day in and day out like Delaney was now doing between Dallas and Shreveport.

There had been some hidden benefits to being reassigned to the Lone Star, though. Now that Memphis was his northern terminal, he got to spend more time there and he'd gotten to know Miss Scarlett a bit better as a result. He now considered her one of his best friends and he always valued the sometimes lengthy conversations they had while awaiting their next assignments.

But the best benefit was that he'd met his one true love. His "Texas Peach" as he called her. She'd come to Memphis a couple years ago when Miss Scarlett was away in North Carolina having her boiler rebuilt. His "Texas Peach" was so stunningly beautiful that when Daemon had first seen her it had taken his breath away. He didn't know how in the world someone so classy and elegant, if a bit cranky every now and then, could ever truly love someone like him. But to her, he had always been her "cowboy."

True, they hadn't gotten on very well when they first met. But as time went on, they spent more and more of it together until they had become almost inseparable. Daemon and his driver, Howard, had even conspired to get the "little lady" assigned to Dallas for couple of weeks which was WAY outside of her home area. Daemon didn't care. The months they'd had together had been the happiest of his life.

Inevitably however, the day came when Scarlett returned to resume her normal, duties which forced his Texas Peach to return east. They'd cried together for what seemed like an eternity before she left and she swore to him that she would never love another like she loved him. Now, a couple of years later, Daemon still liked to think that was true, but he had recently begun hearing rumors that she was cavorting with other engines back east where she lived. Whether it was true or not, the end result was the same… Daemon had been quite depressed ever since she'd gone.

It was something that Thibodeaux and Boudreaux never missed a chance to tease him about and seeing Daemon's depressed expression, they did so again. "Pardon Boudreaux, but what do you tink ees goin' trough de ol' boy's head," Thibodeaux asked his brother with thick Cajun accent.

Daemon rolled his eyes. Here we go again, he thought.

"Pas grand-chose," Boudreaux replied. "An' eet doesn' matter. He ees an ol' steemehr an' derefore, belong on de scra' heap.

Daemon remained silent for the moment.

"Or perhaps he ees tinking 'bout his leetle Texas Peach," Thibodeaux needled and laughed. "Dat eastern cheri whom he still tinks loves him?" Thibodeaux laughed again.

"Ah oui, oui, oui," Boudreaux responded. "But let us not bee too hasty Thibodeaux. Perhaps his Texas Peech does really love him." He laughed. "But den, if his cheri really ees as gorgeous as he say, what does he spek? Dat she woul' wai' for him?" This brought a new chorus of laughs from the PA brothers.

Daemon's depression was turning to anger quick. Thibodeaux and Boudreaux had both met his "Texas Peach" in the course of their normal daily routine a couple years ago. They'd tried pushing her around too, and each had gotten a face full of coal dust and a couple days of sneezing fits for their trouble. They'd been sufficiently scared of her to stop their heartless taunts until she departed to go back east. Once she was gone however, the brothers wasted no time in picking up right where they had left off.

Katherine blasted her horn angrily. Thibodeaux and Boudreaux's ruthless tormenting of others hadn't won them any friends in the roundhouse, even among the other diesels. Chief and Warrior even did their best to stay as far away from the Cajun brothers as they could. "Oh will you two shut up already!" Katherine yelled. "It's bad enough that Chief and Warrior torment us all? Why do you have to be even worse than them?"

"What's wrong Katherine?" Chief asked with more than a hint of sarcasm. "They're just having a little fun."

"Oh, ho, ho," Thibodeaux chuckled. "Ah tink we have upse' Katrina here Boudreaux. Perhaps cheri woul' rather bee in de company of stea' engines? Perhaps you like monsieur Daemon een more tha' jus' friendly way?"

"It's Katherine you brainless, backwater hunk of scrap!" Katherine screamed. "And yes, I do happen to like Daemon. He's been nothing but a perfect gentleman to me and my sister since we arrived here! Not an uncouth, loud and obnoxious twerp like you and your dumb-ass brother have been."

Boudreaux was offended. "Dumb-ass broder? Cheri, ah will have you know, dat we are de fines' locomoteeves dat Alco has ever produce. Noting can pull a passenge' trai' better dan us. We are de bes'!"

Daemon had been waiting for them to boast about that and now it was time to put them in their place. "That a fact now? Let's take a good look at that, shall we? I been here for almost ten years and in that time I ain't never scratched a passenger car, dented one, derailed one or tore the couplers off o' one. On the other hand, you two dad gum careless turbocharged pole cats have scratched and dented several cars, derailed a couple o' times and ripped the dang couplers off o' more cars than I have wheels… all in the past two years. How da ya explain that?"

"Minor accidents, noting more," Thibodeaux growled.

"Perhaps," Daemon said. "But then you two also been in the shop for major overhauls three times since ya got here. Ya sure the construction crew up in Scatcandy or whatever the place is called wasn't havin' an off day when you two was built? Maybe they was "nippin' at the hooch a little too much" as Mister Howard sometimes likes ta say?"

Back in the cab, Howard and Clyde both snickered.

"Eet ees Schenectady!" Boudreaux furiously shouted.

"Yeah, that place," Daemon confirmed.

"And no," Thibodeaux came to his brother's aid. "dose who buil' us were no' tipsy as you are insinuating."

"Was I suggestin' that?" Daemon pretended to sound innocent. "All I's sayin' is that you two hot-headed nit wits ain't been nothin' but a pair o' headaches for Cotton Belt since ya got here."

"Mark mah words steemehr," Boudreaux raged. "Dere will come a day, whe' you will no longe' be needed here. An' whe' dat day comes monsieur, Thibodeaux an' I shall celebrate!"

"You're probably right about that," Daemon admitted. "And I have no doubt that when my final departure from here comes, you two ignorant fools will be blastin' yer horns loud enough for the whole danged city o' Dallas ta hear ya. But sure as the sun rises in the east and sets in the west, as engines like ya'll are slowly replacin' engines like me now, there will come a day when ya'll get replaced by somethin' better than ya'll."

"NEVER!" Boudreaux screamed. "De age of diesels has arrive! We will never be replaced!"

"Never said the diesel itself would get replaced," Daemon retaliated. "Just the diesels o' right now. It's a simple fact o' life. Change always happens, even if we don't like it. If it didn't, well heck we'd all have the looks and pullin' power o' the Stourbridge Lion."

Boudreaux looked over at his brother, confused. "What in de 'eck ees de Stourbridge Lyo'?"

"Do ah look as if ah know de answe'," Thibodeaux responded.

Daemon rolled his eyes. The Stourbridge Lion was the first locomotive to ever be operated in the United States. Every engine in America, steam or diesel, past or present, was either a direct descendant or a cousin of it. It made its historic run on Auguest 8th, 1829. Thank ya for that piece o' history Mister Howard, Daemon thought. He glanced at the other engines in the roundhouse and they were all aghast to discover that Thibodeaux and Boudreaux had no idea who the Stourbridge Lion was. Even Chief and Warrior suddenly seemed to be uncomfortable. Daemon nodded once. "Like I said, ignorant fools."

Island of Sodor – Present Day

Edith couldn't believe what she'd just heard. "Those two clowns didn't know what the Stourbridge Lion was? What, did they sleep through Locomotive Life History 101?"

"Sure as heck seemed like it at the time lil' darlin'," Daemon replied. "And I didn't bother ta tell them neither. I figured if they really wanted ta know who the Great Father was, they could go ask their drivers." He chuckled. "I don't think they ever did. Wouldn't surprise me at all if them two clumsy hot-heads went ta the scrapper still not knowin' who the Stourbridge Lion was, or that the Great Father still lives ta this day."

"I didn't know that about them," Erika admitted and snorted loudly. "It's infuriating, idiotic and completely disrespectful that they didn't know who the Great Father was."

For a moment, the American engines gathered had a moment of silence in honor of the Great Father.

Edith broke that silence. "So… how does all that factor in to how you met my sister?"

"Well later that day I headed over ta the rack ta top off with fuel and water," Daemon explained. "When I got there, I met up with my old friend, Trina. Now as some o' ya might remember from one o' my previous stories, I was right concerned about her because she hadn't been feelin' too well, not very well maintained and SP management seemed content ta just let her run 'til her firebox fell out. Well there at that fuel rack, time and lack o' care finally caught up ta her."

Dallas, Texas… May, 1954

Daemon was concerned as he steamed towards the water tower to fill up. An emergency call had come through to the roundhouse a short while ago saying that Trina had broken down and was not likely to be repaired in time to take the southbound Sunbeam to Houston the next day. So despite being a Cotton Belt engine, Daemon had gotten the call to take her place. His call had irritated Thibodeaux and Boudreaux to no end and they'd protested it vehemently, to which Cotton Belt's controller had told them to shut up and "just to concern themselves with not derailing the Morning Star."

Daemon had barely heard the complaints of "those no good Cajun bushwhackers." All he'd cared about was finding out what had happened to Trina. And as he approached the water tower, he got his answer. Trina sat on a track to one side of the tower, a huge pool of steaming hot water mixed with smoke all around her. Her face was a twisted mask of shock and unbearable pain.

It soon became apparent why. Sticking out of the right side of her boiler at a crazy angle was one of her drive rods. It had punctured right through, severing most of her boiler flues and dumping most of the contents onto the ground. Her crew had then hastily dumped her fire right down onto the track to prevent a complete explosion of the firebox and a maintenance train was on an adjacent track spraying cold water under her firebox to keep the ties beneath from catching fire.

A signalman up ahead motioned for Daemon to keep moving and he kept a close eye on the big Northern as he slowly pulled up next to Trina, making sure he didn't strike the rod fragment sticking out of Trina's boiler. Daemon was aghast to see that most of the rods on Trina's right side were broken or gone. Nearby, the Cotton Belt controller was yelling furiously at Trina's driver and fireman, pointing at her boiler every now and then and slapping his fist into open palm.

"Hmph," Howard grunted. "Looks like those two jerks are finally getting what they deserve."

"What d'ya mean Mister Howard?" Daemon wondered. His answer came in the form of Cotton Belt's controller loudly announcing to both of the hapless men before him that they were fired and to immediately leave the railroad's property.

"That's what I mean Daemon," Howard said. "Those two have been very careless in how they handle their engine and they've been told more than once that if they didn't start appreciating the power and mechanics of their engine, it was liable to backfire on them. Looks like that's now happened.

"Howard's absolutely… ouch… right Daemon," Trina said in a pained voice.

Still stunned by what had happened, Daemon asked, "What happened lil' darlin'?"

"A driver headspace failure is what happened," Trina gasped. The pain was so intense and shocking, she couldn't even cry at the moment. "Those damned… idiotic morons! I warned them they were starting me…" she paused to take a deep breath, "starting me up too fast. But they… they didn't listen. Just told me to shut up and let them drive me."

"What?" Daemon was shocked and pissed at how her crew could be so careless with how they treated her. "What did they do ta ya?"

"My drivers…" Trina gasaped. "My drivers started to slide… run wild. But they didn't shut off my steam. Don't know… ahhhhh… why they didn't. But my drivers… kept spinning. Way too fast. My rods gave out. Fatigue cracks in the metal. And… well… yeowch… you can see what happened.

Daemon was appalled. "How could they do that ta ya Trina? I thought our crews was supposed ta take care o' us?"

Trina laughed despite the white hot pain she was in. "Oh Daemon… I've always loved your naiveté. Yes, they're supposed to do that. But not all engines… ouch… have as nice or kind a crew as you have with Howard and Clyde.

"I'm sorry to say that she's right," Howard agreed. "While it's not uncommon for young, new engineers to make mistakes in proper handling of a locomotive, in time they learn how it's done and become quite good at it." He sighed heavily. "But then you get the occasional crew like those two who just never learn and don't care to learn."

"Did you make mistakes when you was younger Mister Howard," Daemon wondered.

Howard laughed. "Daemon, I made some fine ones in my earlier years. Nearly got myself fired a couple times too. I didn't join the railroad at age 17 knowing everything about the job Daemon. I had a lot to learn. Still do and my fortieth anniversary with Cotton Belt is next month."

Wayne rolled up in front of Trina, shocked at the damage that had been done by her careless and now unemployed crew. "C'mon old girl," he said reassuringly as he coupled up to her cowcatcher. "Let's get you over to the shops."

A flurry of thoughts went racing through Daemon's mind as Trina was towed away and Clyde began filling his tender with water. Would she be all right? How long was it going to take for her to get repaired? So many steam engines had been retired and scrapped by now, he'd lost count. No, they couldn't scrap Trina. She could still be useful. A little repair work and little paint and she'd be as good as new.

Daemon was still telling himself that back in the roundhouse later that night when the Cotton Belt controller came to visit him. "Daemon… I uh, I just wanted to let you know that SP doesn't have a spare engine out here at the moment. They're sending an engine out from the west coast to take her place for a while but it'll be a few days before she gets here. So they've asked us for help in the meantime. Until Trina's replacement gets here, I'm pulling your brother off of freight. He'll be taking your place on the Lone Star while you fill in for Trina on the Sunbeam."

That didn't sound too bad to Daemon. "Oh, well Delaney will sure enjoy bein' on a passenger train again."

The controller nodded. "Once Trina's replacement gets here though… Erika, I think they said her name was… it'll be back to business as usual. Delaney will be on freight and you'll be on the Lone Star."

Well, it wasn't what Daemon had hoped for, but at least Delaney would get a few days on a passenger train again. "What's gonna happen ta Trina?" Daemon asked. "They gonna repair her, right?"

The look on the old controller's face told Howard, his driver, that the situation was a lot more bleak than it first appeared. But the old man did his best to sound optimistic to the concerned engine. "All I can say for sure Daemon is that if she were she a Cotton Belt engine, she'd be repaired no question. But she's not Daemon and you know that. She a Southern Pacific engine and I cannot speak for their management."

Translation: Hope for the best but don't git your hopes up, Daemon thought. He nodded slowly. "All right, sir. Thank you." The Cotton Belt controller nodded once to him and was just about to leave when Daemon stopped. "Uh, excuse me, sir?"

"Yes Daemon?" the Cotton Belt controller answered.

"What can ya tell me about this Erika gal who' supposed ta be comin' here?"

"Well, Erika's a Northern type like you Daemon," the old controller answered him. "A GS-4 class. Number forty-four forty-nine I think they said. She has streamlined skirting similar to Trina and she also wears the Daylight colors that Trina does."

Daemon smiled. "Erika huh? And a real GS class engine? Here? Wow. Guess them two oily Cajuns was wrong 'bout me never gittin' ta meet one o' them."

The old controller laughed. He knew all too well of Thibodeaux and Boudreaux's reputation in the roundhouse as well as their performance reputation, neither of which were particularly good.

"Why mus' dere be anoder stea' engine doing dis work?" Thibodeaux demanded. "Cotton Bel' needs to get demselve new PA-1 locomoteeves. Dey can do de job. No' some ol' steame' dat ees goo' for noting sept scrap!"

"I'd watch my tongue if I were you," the controller warned.

"What do you mea' monsieur?" Boudreaux wondered.

"I mean your performance records to date have only been slightly less irritating than your accents," the controller stated flatly, giving the Cajun brothers both a hard stare. "So don't you two try to lecture me about what this railroad needs because you two just might find yourselves on a dead line sooner than you think."

The Cajun brothers were horrified by that possibility. "Zut alors!" Thibodeaux exclaimed.

Satisfied that he'd shut them up for the time being, the controller turned back to Daemon. "And don't forget Daemon, being that you are officially as GS-8 class engine now, that makes you and Erika cousins. So I expect you to treat her like family."

The look of elation on Daemon's face that appeared was one the old controller hadn't seen in a long time. "Well dump my fire an' call me a ballast scorcher! Yeah, I guess it does! Tarnation, I can't wait ta meet the lil' darlin'!"

"That's the spirit Daemon," the controller told him.

For the next three days, Daemon dutifully pulled Southern Pacific's Sunbeam from Dallas to Houston and back, taking a few minutes out of every day to visit with Trina in the shop and check on her condition. The huge piece of her rod that had punctured her boiler had been removed along with several pieces of bent metal and all of her damaged flues. But it didn't appear that SP management was working that hard to get her back on the tracks in a great hurry.

Daemon's depression at seeing his good friend in such a state was partially offset by the knowledge that he would be meeting his cousin, a real GS class engine, soon. He wondered how she would be. Would she be friendly and nice? Cold and aloof? Silly and insane? Well, Daemon didn't care. She was family and that was all that mattered, particularly when family seemed to be in rather short supply these days.

Sitting in the roundhouse the evening before Erika's arrival, Daemon was so excited, he thought his boiler might burst. "I gotta admit Delaney," he said. "I'm really lookin' forward ta meetin' Erika tomorrow."

"I know that," Delaney replied. "So does everyone else. Ya been sayin' it practically every few minutes since the controller said she was comin' here."

Daemon laughed. "I guess I has been overdoin' my excitement just a mite, ain't I?"

"Ya think little brother," Delaney replied. He laughed as well. "Aw well, no real harm done I suppose. And I gots ta admit, I's lookin' forward ta meetin' the gal myself."

"I sure hope she's nice an' all," Daemon said.

Island of Sodor – Present Day

"So you were really looking forward to meeting my sister," Edith smiled.

"Aw you bet lil' darlin'," Daemon said. "Meetin' my cousin was all I talked about for days. Almost drove poor Mister Howard plumb crazy."

Edith and the other engines present all laughed. All that is, except Erika herself who wore a face that looked to be longer than the last day of school.

It was en expression that did not escape Edith's notice. "So… how well did your first meeting with my sister go, Daemon?"

"Well, not as good as I'd hoped," Daemon. "But somewhat better than some others I've had over the years."

That's what I was afraid of, Edith thought. Oh Erika.

"So don't keep us in suspense," Connor encouraged. "Tell us about it."

Dallas, Texas – May, 1954

A loud, deep whistle startled Daemon awake in the Cadiz roundhouse the next morning. "Wha -? What the? What's going on here?" he said as he was rudely jolted from his slumber.

"Well it's about danged time ya woke up over there Sleepin' Beauty," Delaney grumbled from three stalls over. "It's Erika. She's here. Be on your best behavior now."

Fully waking up in the span of half a second, Daemon said. "She's here? Now? Oh wow. Tarnation, I sure am glad I woke up. Is my hair straight?"

"You're an engine ya daggoned idgit," Delaney reminded him. "Ya don't have hair!"

"Oh…" Daemon said somewhat embarrassed at his momentary lapse in mental capacity. "Right."

To Daemon's right, Thibodeaux, Boudreaux, Chief and Warrior all laughed at him earning them all scowls from most of the other engines

"Focus now boy," Delaney told him.

Daemon watched with nervous anticipation as Erika steamed into view, her Daylight colors accenting her streamlined skirting and shining brightly in the Texas morning sunshine. Sitting atop 80 inch drivers, she was big; bigger than Daemon or Delaney and most of the other engines in the roundhouse. As she steamed towards the turntable, Daemon got a good look at her face and it's youthful, yet dignified regal features. It gave her an air almost of royalty.

Up until that moment, Daemon couldn't have imagined a Daylight engine looking prettier than Trina. Yet now with Erika before him, that notion was blown away faster than soot and ashes were blown out his stack. "Oh wow," Daemon said under his breath. "Look at her. She sure is purty, ain't she?"

Delaney was also awestruck by Erika's beauty. "Oh my, my, my… yes she is little brother. She is most definitely a right fine sight for these old, tired eyes."

Thibodeaux and Boudreaux of course, had to ruin the moment. "Why did dey was' dis pain' scheme on a steemehr?" Thibodeaux demanded.

"Agreed dear broder," Boudreaux said. "Eet ees too fine a pain' scheme to be on noting but a diesel!"

Daemon whistled loudly, stirring up a large cloud of steam and scorching Boudreaux's roof. "Hey, watch eet!" he yelled.

"Shut up you two," Daemon warned.

Thibodeaux, who had not been steam cleaned, keep running his mouth. "Or you will what old timer?"

For an answer, Daemon whistled loudly again, further scorching Boudreaux and pissing him off. He turned to his twin brother. "Now ah tell you to shu' up before he streeps de pain' off mah roof!"

Katherine leaned in slightly towards Daemon. "Nice one," she whispered. "Thanks."

"Don't mention it," Daemon whispered his reply.

Meanwhile, Erika steamed onto the turntable and spoke aloud, though from her words it was clear she was not that thrilled about the assignment she had been given. "What a quaint little… hovel this is."

Daemon ignored her words and introduced himself. "Well good mornin' lil' darlin'," he said proudly. "My name's Daemon. And on behalf o' the Cotton Belt railroad, may I be the first ta welcome ya ta Dallas."

Erika was so focused on her own displeasure of having been ordered to leave California for "the Lone Star State" as it was put to her, that she completely missed Daemon's grand introduction. She looked blankly at the Daemon and asked, "Did you say something to me?"

Daemon glanced over at Delaney, caught off guard by Erika's revelation that she hadn't heard a word he'd said. "Uh, yes lil' darlin'," he said, a little slower this time. "Welcome ta Dallas. My name's Daemon."

Erika's eyes narrowed. "Little darling?" she growled. "Why do you call me that?"

"Why I call every lady I know lil' darlin' ther elil' darlin'."

"Well don't call me little darling," Erika lectured him. "It doesn't suit a GS-4 class passenger engine. And I don't like it. And as an engine belonging to your railroad's masters, I do believe that I am entitled to a little more respect than that, don't you?"

That statement got on everyone's nerves, even Thibodeaux and Boudreaux. All of the engines gave her dirty, unfriendly looks making Erika a little nervous. Who did this upstart, this… this West Coast Diva, think she was?

"No more respect than any other engine around here… once they've earned it," Daemon told her. What was with the hostility? Wow. Erika may have looked pretty but her behavior so far was anything but.

"I've been pulling the Coast Daylight up and down the California coast line for thirteen years now," Erika boasted. "It is touted as America's Most Beautiful Passenger Train. I think that alone earns me respect."

If Erika was expecting to rally the other engines in the roundhouse to her line of thinking with that statement, she was doomed to disappointment. And Daemon let her know it. "Good for ya lil' darlin'," he said. "But the problem is, ya ain't on the west coast anymore. Ya in northern Texas now and we does things a little differently out here."

"I told you not to call me little darling," Erika grumbled.

"Then how do ya suppose I should address my cousin?" Daemon asked. "I'll be danged and boiler washed if I's just gonna call ya 'hey you' all day long."

Erika looked like she'd swallowed some of the oil that burned in her firebox. "Cousin! What are you talking about?! I have no cousins!"

"Sure ya do lil' darlin'," Daemon insisted. "All o' us Cotton Belt northern types is cousins to the SP northern types. And some o' us, myself included, was recently leased by the SP and reclassified from L-1 ta GS-8. That makes us cousins lil' darlin'!"

Erika was enraged. "Why would I ever consider a country bumpkin like yourself my cousin? It's unfathomable and inconceivable! No… you are not my cousin. Never have been and never will be." She started laughing. "And as for being a GS-8… you're not streamlined and you don't wear Daylight colors. You could never be a GS class engine, even if you wanted to. You don't fit the role."

Delaney leaned in a little closer to Daemon. "Ya get the feelin' little brother, that old Erika here missed the company memo about bein' on their best behavior," he said quietly.

"Tarnation, it sure as heck seems like that don't it?" Daemon whispered back. To Erika he said, "Well now lil' darlin', in my opinion, ya don't have ta have fancy schmancy colors ta be called a certain class. After all, ain't the GS-1s standard steam engines without colors and streamlinin'?"

Every engine in the roundhouse looked at Daemon in surprise and awe, some too stunned to believe he'd just challenged Erika to give a retort to that. They began wondering if Erika would answer it, but as much as she wanted to, Erika couldn't. Daemon was right about her GS-1 brothers. It didn't stop her from issuing a loud, angry report on her whistle though.

Didn't think ya had a smart-aleck answer for that one, Daemon thought as Erika "blew off some steam."

Before hostilities could escalate further, the Cotton Belt controller arrived. "Ah good Erika," he said. "Glad to see you're getting to know everyone."

"Actually, I haven't been formally introduced to most of them," Erika admitted. "We've been…" she glared hotly at Daemon. "discussing a few things."

"Well, that's good isn't it," the controller said, totally ignorant of what had been developing in the roundhouse less than two minutes earlier. "Now were you briefed as to what you'd be doing here before you left California?"

"Yes," Erika said. "I was told I'd be running the Sunbeam between here and Houston some two hundred or so miles south of here."

"Correct," the controller said, pleased that SP management had actually done what they had promised. "Daemon has been running that job for the past few days and tomorrow you'll double-head with him so you can get familiar with the route. After that you'll be on your own."

Oh wonderful, Erika thought unhappily.

"Daemon, I expect you to do a thorough job showing her the route," the controller said. "I know you've only been working that route a short time, but you still know it better than Erika does. Nevertheless, I want you to escort Erika over to the shop later so she can meet Trina. She worked that line longer than anyone and she could point out things for Erika to watch for that maybe you can't Daemon."

"Yes sir," Daemon said. "I'll take good care o' my cousin. We'll head over ta the shop after I introduce her ta everyone."

Thibodeaux couldn't resist one last jab. "An' cheri… do try no' to derail on your firs' day."

His comment was met by two angry whistles from Daemon and Erika, which ended steam cleaning Boudreaux's roof and face. "Will you shut up!" he yelled at his brother.

"Why shou' I shu' up!" Thiboudeaux retaliated.

"Because e'ery time you ope' you mout, ah get a face full o' steam," Boudreaux yelled back.

"You shu' up," Thiboudeaux yelled.

"No, you shu' up broder," Boudreaux shouted.

Daemon rolled his eyes as the brothers continued their battle. It was going to be a long summer.

Island of Sodor – Present Day

As Daemon finished his story, he glanced at Erika. "So then lil' darlin', did I git the story right?"

Everything in Erika wanted to scream at Daemon that he'd screwed it all up. That this was wrong and that was wrong and she'd never said that and how could he describe her in that way. But in the end, she didn't have a thing to say because he'd been completely accurate in his description of the events. "It was fine Daemon," she mumbled.

That's what I thought you'd say, Daemon thought to himself.

"Wow dear sister," Edith said. "You really didn't endear yourself to those engines in Dallas, did you?"

"No I suppose I didn't," Erika quietly admitted. "I wasn't happy about being sent to Dallas in the first place and then Daemon calling me "lil' darlin'" and "cousin" just threw me over the edge. Still, my behavior was inexcusable and definitely not what it should've been that first day. But as time went on, they forgave my silliness and I made some good friends there." Erika wondered if Leo, Southern Pacific #982, would ever get a chance to do anything more than just sit on a lonely piece of specially built track in front of a baseball stadium.

"And what about Trina?" Caitlin asked. "How did you find her?"

Erika couldn't help but laugh. "I'd heard of the P-14 class engines before, but I admit it was still a little unnerving to meet a "mini-me" face to face at first."

Daemon laughed. "When they opened the shop's doors for her, lil' darlin' took one look at Trina and got this completely shocked expression on her face. Dangnation if that weren't the most priceless thing I ever seen. Just sat there with her mouth agape and her eyes bigger than her faceplate!"

Erika was irritated by Daemon's description, but the other engines, including Edith, all laughed. Erika decided to downplay it a little. "Yes," she admitted. "Not one of my finer moments in life, I can assure you."

"So what did Trina have to say to that?" Edith wondered.

Again Erika laughed. "She said, 'You know, that's the expression I imagined you having when you first saw me, but the length of time you've had it is getting a little ridiculous.'"

That brought a whole new chorus of laughs from the engines and people gathered around them. "Oh the amount of money I would've paid to have been able to have seen that one," Edith teased.

Erika got serious. "I don't know about that Edith," she said. "While I was stunned at seeing a, more or less, smaller version of myself, I was also stunned and horrified at seeing her injuries. While the side rod had since been removed from her boiler, the damage to it had not been fixed. I hadn't seen injuries like that since… since Elena."

Edith became a little somber at the mention of her deceased sister. "Perhaps Erika," she said quietly. "Still, unlike Elena, Trina's damage was not caused by her own arrogance and hubris. It saddens me greatly to know that a crew could treat an engine so badly and cause so much damage to it."

"Rivalries and tempers aside, I think we've all been very lucky to have had crews over the years that have taken such good care of us," Connor commented. "I wish that was true of all engines… steam, diesel and electric alike."

The other engines all nodded in agreement.

"So what about Trina," Hank asked. "Did Southern Pacific repair her?"

Daemon's expression grew sad and he slowly shook his head. "Naw," he spoke quietly. "They never did. 'Bout five weeks after lil' darlin' here arrived, Southern Pacific officially retired Trina and sent her away shortly thereafter. None o' us ever saw her again. She was a damn good friend and I still mourn her loss."

For once, Erika agreed with Daemon. "Me too. Even though we only had a few weeks together, we forged a very strong friendship in that time. By the time she left, I viewed her as a baby sister."

Edith smiled sadly as she could see the distress in her sister's eyes. "I wish I could've met Trina too Erika," she genuinely said.

"You would've loved her like a sister Edith," Erika said. "And she would've loved you like a sister too."

A single tear fell from Erika's eye.

Later that afternoon, Daemon was working the freight photo op train between Tidmouth and Arlesburgh. "Remember Daemon, keep it natural," Bruce told him as he passed a large group of photographers. "You're supposed to be acting as if you're doing you're normal work. Not posing for the cameras." He shut off Daemon's steam and applied the brakes.

"I know Mister Bruce," Daemon assured him. "I'm sorry if I've over-done it on one o' these here photo passes."

"Nah, you've been doing just fine," Bruce said. "I just thought I'd give you a reminder incase the cameras started to get a little distracting."

Daemon chuckled. "In case I got a little too big for my boiler? Is that what you're tryin' ta say Mister Bruce?"

"Something like that Daemon," Bruce admitted.

"Well don't ya worry none Mister Bruce," Daemon proclaimed. "I's too much of a down-home country boy ta git that big of a head o' steam in me. Tarnation, can ya imagine how I'd feel if that happened? Be like how you feel when ya git indigestion."

In the fireman's seat, Mike tried to stifle a laugh and failed miserably.

"Har dee har har," Bruce sarcastically fired back at Daemon. With a smile, he shook his head. "Let's just back you up so we can do another run-by."

Bruce slowly reversed Daemon back toward a point around a curve far out of sight of the cameras where he could build up a good head of steam. That way, when he started up and stormed around the curve in full view of the photographers, he'd be blasting a huge cloud out of his stack. Though it wasn't particularly efficient in terms of fuel consumption, it always gave the crowd a thrill. Add to the fact that he was a big American engine and the crowds were wowed that much more by his presence and physique.

As he waited patiently to start his next photo run-by, Daemon looked up the track at the curve. Just beyond it, the throngs of people waited for him to go thundering by again. He enjoyed showing off what could do for people not familiar with steam locomotives and railroad operations. But it also made him a tiny bit sad and he sighed deeply.

"You okay there old boy?" Bruce asked him, a bit concerned.

"Yeah, I'm fine Mister Bruce," Daemon said quietly. "I was just… lettin' my mind wander a bit."

Bruce knew what that meant. "You're thinking about her, aren't you?"

Daemon chuckled. "Ya mean my little Texas Peach? Yeah I was thinkin' about her. I wish ta dad gum heck she could see all this. Tarnation, I wish she was here now. But so much time has gone by I don't know how she'd feel about me now. I still love her more than any other engine I ever seen, but does she still feel that way about me? Would it be the same as it was nearly 60 years ago between us or would it have changed somehow? And would that change be for better or for worse?" He left out a sorrowful blast on his whistle. "Ya think she'd like it here?"

"I guarantee you she would Daemon," Bruce said. "And as for how things would be between the two of you, if she showed up here today she'd be all over you before you could finish saying, 'Hello lil' darlin'.'"

"Doesn't seem like I'll ever know for sure," Daemon said. "But I sure hope ya right Mister Bruce." He shook his mind out of the past and let out a couple more pronounced and confident whistle blasts. "C'mon! Let's git this photo special rollin' now, ya hear?"

Bruce laughed. "Yes sir," he said as he pulled back Daemon's throttle.

Rounding the curve and thundering past the crowd of photographers again, Daemon couldn't remember a time when he'd felt more alive than now. It sure beat all those years sitting with no fire, no steam and depressed in the Pine Bluff shops. Engines were built to run, not sit in a museum. Though he was grateful for all of his locomotive brothers, sisters and cousins that had avoided the cutter's torch, Daemon couldn't help but feel a twinge of pain knowing that most of them were not enjoying the good fortune he was.

His "Texas Peach" would be proud of him.

The night after the third day of the festival had ended and the engines were all resting comfortably in the Tidmouth roundhouse, Erika rolled in after topping off with fuel and water and receiving a nice, if somewhat cold, shower. As she settled into a stall next to Gordon, she heard the strumming of Bruce's guitar coming from Daemon's cab a couple tracks to her left.

Though he'd long shut Daemon shut down for the night, for whatever reason Bruce had elected to stick around. He was now contentedly playing his music and singing to himself about love and tunnels and other things that Erika didn't quite understand. After the short sing-a-long she'd participated in earlier in the day, she had to admit that Bruce was very good at working that instrument.

In Erika's cab, Sarah and Samantha quickly worked to get the Daylight engine shut down, though it was clear to Samantha that Sarah was perhaps a little more interested in listening to the music than shutting the engine down. Still, Sarah was a professional and completed her job without doing anything that might later endanger them or Erika.

"See you tomorrow pretty lady," Samantha told Erika as she climbed down from the cab.

"See you tomorrow," Erika responded back.

As they walked towards the parking lot, Samantha outlined the expectations for the final day of the festival. "Now tomorrow is the big one," she said. "The excursion all the way to London and back. We need to be here by 5 am and Erika needs to be ready and coupled on to the train with Daemon by 6:30. Departure is at 7 and it's a six hour trip from here to there. If all goes well, we'll have an hour and a half to get Erika serviced, turned and back on to the train with Daemon for the 2:30 departure to Ulfstead Castle."

Sarah nodded. "I'll be on time," she assured Samantha. She stopped as they started to walk behind Daemon's tender and looked in the general direction. Up in Daemon's cab, they could still hear Bruce playing and singing.

Samantha gave Sarah a wry smile when she glanced back in her direction. "Well what are you waiting for?" Samantha demanded. "Go on." Samantha flicked her wrist in the direction of Daemon's cab. It was a clear sign to Sarah that if she wanted to get some alone time with Bruce, there wasn't likely to be a better opportunity than now. As if further prompting her, Samantha stepped out the door and into the parking lot before Sarah could say anything.

Looking back in the direction of Daemon's cab, Sarah suddenly found herself flooded with conflicting thoughts and emotions. Should she? Shouldn't she? What if he rejected her? What if he wasn't all that he seemed to be? What if she ended up rejecting him? As Sarah began to give herself a headache, she finally said to herself, "Ahhhh hell, nothing ventured, nothing gained. So here goes nothing."

Still in Daemon's engineer seat, Bruce finished up the song he was playing and checked his watch. Mike had long left the roundhouse for home and like Sarah and Samantha, they needed to be back early to get Daemon ready for the London excursion. He was just putting his guitar back into its case when he heard someone clapping down below. He looked and smiled when he saw it was Sarah standing by Daemon's ladder.

"Very good Bruce," she said. "I'm impressed."

"Thank you," he responded.

Sarah glanced over at the ladder. "May I?"

"Please do," Bruce encouraged. "I'd be disappointed if you didn't."

With a deep breath, Sarah climbed up and accepted Bruce's invitation to sit in Daemon's fireman seat. Looking across the cab at him, she suddenly felt like an idiot because she couldn't think of what to say next. "So… uh… h-how long have you been playing?"

Bruce laughed to himself. He found the way Sarah always seemed to stumble over her words whenever they were together very endearing. He decided to have a little fun with her. "Tonight, or overall?"

Sarah laughed. "Well overall of course."

"Since I was about eight," Bruce replied. "The sound of it coming from my home used to drive the neighbors crazy and my parents as well."

"I bet it did," Sarah agreed. "And where exactly is home?"

"Somewhere between Kalamazoo and Timbuktu," Bruce replied.

The answer confused Sarah. "Huh?"

Bruce laughed. "That's what I tell Daemon anyway whenever he asks me."

"Oh," Sarah laughed.

"Camden, New Jersey."

"Wow," Sarah said. "Rough place."

"Yes it was," Bruce agreed. "And being the second oldest of eight kids with an alcoholic father and a promiscuous mother made it that much rougher."

"Mmmm," Sarah winced. "Yeah I'm sure it did."

"How about you?" Bruce wondered. "Where's home?"

"Chicago," Sarah said. "Specifically Palatine, one of the north western suburbs."

"The Windy City," Bruce said.

"Oh yeah," Sarah smiled. She sighed. "I miss it there. If it wasn't for this, I'd probably still be there."

"Is that where you got started firing steam?"

"Mm hm," Sarah nodded. "At the Illinois Railway Museum."

"Ah," Bruce smiled. "You got started on Maude then, didn't you?"

"Yeah," Sarah smiled back. "How do you know about Maude?"

"I fired Maude a couple times in my early days as well," Bruce confessed.

Sarah was surprised. "Really?"

"Yeah."

Maude was a "Russian" Ye class 2-10-0 decapod type originally built by Baldwin for railways in Russia in 1918. But due to the lack of money as a result of the Russian Revolution, the sale of 200 of them was never completed and they were re-gauged to American standard and sold to American railroads. Maude had ended up on the Frisco and carried the number 1630. During her nearly 40 year career she had worked as a mixed traffic engine, hauling both freight and passenger trains until her retirement in the late 1950s. She was one of the first steam locomotives acquired by the Illinois Railway Museum and now served as one of two operating steam engines on the property. Though five of her sisters had also been preserved, Maude was the only one still operational.

"Anyway," Sarah said. "I was working a boring job as a clerk at a dentist's office throughout high school and college. But on my weekends, I volunteered at the museum. When I was in high school, I just basically worked as conductor or the station agent. But I never missed a chance to be near Maude and I was forever grilling her and her driver, Dan, about how she worked and what it took to operate her. Finally just after I graduated high school, Maude told me, 'Look if you're going to be constantly asking questions about what it takes to operate me, you might as well learn how to do it yourself. So get your butt up in the firewoman's seat and get to it'."

"That must've been a welcome change of duties," Bruce said.

"Oh you have no idea," Sarah said. "I've always been fascinated by trains. You know I had a Lionel train layout when I was a kid? Still do actually."

"No kidding," Bruce said with a laugh.

Sarah nodded. "It's all in boxes now but back then… oh it was beautiful. By the time I graduated high school, I had four steam engines, one diesel switcher, about forty or so freight cars, one passenger train set and enough track and buildings to have a rather nice twenty by twenty foot layout."

"That's impressive for Lionel scale," Bruce observed.

"Yeah," Sarah agreed. "My friend used to razz me about it all the time. While they were out at the local boutiques buying blouses, skirts, pants, purses and shoes, I was down at the local hobby shop buying my next freight car or bundle of track or building or whatever. I also used to walk down to the old Palatine suburban depot and sit for hours just watching the Metra commuter trains and North Western freight trains roll by. Drove my mother nuts, but at least they always knew where to find me if I was out too late."

She and Bruce laughed. "Sounds like something my older brother was familiar with. Though I confess, I never had a model train when I was a kid."

Sarah looked upset. "No?"

"Nope," Bruce confirmed. "Any extra money we had usually found its way into my father's drinking glass. Sometimes even money we had that wasn't extra. I have some HO stuff now, but that's only been accumulated in the last few years. My fascination with trains started as a way to escape the alcohol-fueled insanity that permeated my house when I was a kid. On Saturdays I'd ride my bike across the Delaware River into Philadelphia and watch the train action there. Either that or I'd catch Amtrak to either Atlantic City or New York and take in the railroad action there."

"Oh wow," Sarah said.

"Hell, Spring Break of my senior year while most of my friends were down in Miami, Florida, I hopped on Amtrak and took it all the way to Buffalo with my then-girlfriend," Bruce said. "Spent three days at Niagara Falls."

"Why only three?" Sarah wondered.

Bruce chuckled. "It was all I could afford on the piss-poor wage Old Man Brown paid me for working at the local pizza joint," he replied.

Sarah laughed. "And the girlfriend you were with? What happened to her?"

"I married her," Bruce said. "And then I divorced her five years ago. She told me to get married to a locomotive."

Sarah laughed even harder. "Not a railfan I'm guessing," Sarah said.

"It wasn't just that," Bruce said. "My interest could've been cars, sci-fi movies or thoroughbred horses. She just didn't want to share it with me. She wanted someone who got excited about everything and nothing at the same time. If you ask me she wanted someone boring. And she got it. She's now living with a guy who's quite a bit older than her. Some college professor at Princeton. I call him Nikita because he reminds me of Khrushchev."

Sarah laughed even harder and more than before.

"I can't think of a better cure for insomnia than to sit and listen to that guy talk for five minutes," Bruce continued. He snapped his fingers. "Lights go out just like that. I've often wondered how many of his students have nodded off by the time he gets to the end of one of his lectures."

It took Sarah several minutes to finally stop laughing and for a while, Bruce joined her in her laughter. When she finally managed to compose herself she asked, "I take it you've met him before?"

"Not by choice, but yes," Bruce admitted. "My ex and I have a son together, Sean. He's nine now. Were it not for him, I would've distanced myself from my ex as far as I could've before the ink on the divorce decree was dry. But I love my boy very much and I am very much a part of his life. Last time I saw him, he told me he wanted to be a locomotive engineer just like his old man."

"Ho, ho," Sarah erupted. "I can only guess how well that went over with his mother."

Bruce closed his eyes and shook his head. "You have nooooooo idea." They both laughed again.

Changing the subject, Sarah asked Bruce about his tan beret. "So what's with the fancy head ornamentation anyway?"

Bruce was confused. "Huh?" Then it dawned on him what she was talking about and he pulled his beret from his head. "Oh this? This actually belonged to my older brother. After the September 11th attacks, he joined the Army and eventually became a Ranger, hence the tan beret. I almost joined with him but he asked me not to. He said that if something ever happened to him, I'd then be the man of the family then but if something happened to both of us the family couldn't survive. Turns out, that was good advice. He was killed in Iraq in 2006. I wear this in his memory." He put the beret back on his head.

Sarah's heart broke. "Oh Bruce, I'm so sorry." Almost instinctively, she walked across the cab, knelt beside him and reached forward to clasp Bruce's hand in her own. Immediately she was encouraged by the fact that he didn't pull away from her. She decided to test it a little further and gave it soft, gentle squeeze and she smiled when it was returned to her. "I don't know what to say," she said.

"That's fine right there Sarah," Bruce smiled. "And I appreciate it. Thank you."

All right, enough of the small talk, Sarah thought. Time to find out once and for all if there's something here or not. Emboldened by her success, she said, "You know Bruce, we've known each other for a little while now and I like you."

"I like you too Sarah," he replied.

He didn't seem to be getting the message. "No I mean I really, really like you."

It took Bruce a second, but his eyes widened a bit and his lips curled into a sort of smile. "Oh, that kind of like."

Sarah inched her way closer to him and looked him in the eyes. "Yeah," she confessed. "That kind of like. I have a friend who owns a retreat cottage on the ocean in Wales. And I was wondering if, maybe later this summer, you'd like to go there with me? Get away from it all so to speak? Just you and me Bruce. Just you and me." She lowered her gaze towards the ground. "If you want to that is."

Bruce smiled and took a deep breath, the strawberry scent of whatever shampoo Sarah used becoming a relaxing balm to him. "I'd like that very much Sarah," he said.

His acceptance came as a complete shock to Sarah and she looked up at him suddenly with wide eyes. "You… you would?"

Bruce nodded. "I would Sarah, very much," he reiterated. "You see, when I said I liked you too Sarah, I also meant that kind of like."

Sarah was now supremely confident that Bruce was talking to someone behind her. Get a grip girl, she told her herself. She shook her head a bit to be sure she wasn't dreaming. "You… you did?"

Bruce pulled Sarah a little closer. "I did Sarah. And perhaps we can discuss the details of this little adventure after the festival concludes… over dinner and wine?"

A beaming smile made its way onto Sarah's face. "Yes Bruce," she nodded eagerly. "We can."

"It's settled then," Bruce said. He leaned in and kissed Sarah full on the lips marveling at how she tasted as fresh as a clear, mountain stream. It took Sarah all of half a second to respond as her arms coiled around him and she put all the passion and fire she could into the kiss. Her entire body tingled with pleasure and her mind was completely lost to the moment. It was the most electrifying kiss of her life, one that she would brag about to her grandchildren decades from this moment.

Just when it seemed the heat would become too much for her, the kiss broke and she slowly backed away from Bruce. Even so, her arms remained coiled around him and her mind was still swimming happily in the sensations she had just experienced. Finally, she managed to open her eyes. "Oh wow," she whispered.

Bruce smiled. "A little teaser for next time Sarah," he said.

Sarah nodded dumbly, her mind still half gone.

Bruce stood up from the engineer's seat, Sarah finally letting go of him. He gave her a second, shorter kiss. "Good night Sarah," he said. "I will dream of you tonight."

"Me too," her romance dulled mind said. It wasn't until some minutes later when she heard Bruce's truck pulling away from the roundhouse, that she finally regained all her senses. She gasped loudly and her hands flew up to her mouth, covering it. Oh my gosh! Oh my gosh! Oh my gosh! I don't believe this, she thought. I told him how I felt and he feels the same way about me! This couldn't be more wonderful! And oh my gosh, what a kiss!

Squealing in delight, Sarah leaped and danced around Daemon's cab as giddy as a kid out of school for several minutes. Finally she flopped down in the engineer's seat, letting her mind sail away in the thoughts and passions that surrounded it.

Unfortunately, her suddenly drop into Daemon's seat nearly woke him up. "Zzzzzzz… wha? Huh?... zzzzzzzz," he said and promptly went back to sleep.

Yikes, that was close, Sarah thought as she regained control of her thoughts again. She looked at her watch. It was getting late and she wasn't doing anything useful by hanging around here. With a new spring in her step and a joyous reason to look forward to tomorrow, she climbed down from Daemon's cab and left the roundhouse.

"You GO girl!" a voice called out behind when she was only three step out the door.

It startled Sarah and she whirled about in all directions, trying to find who had said it. "Wha-? What the?"

Samantha stepped from the shadows, a huge smile on her face. "I can't stand it Sarah. That took some balls!" Samantha then teased Sarah with a distorted version of her own words. "I really like you Bruce. Later I'd like to go this little cottage I've got, just you and me and my lingerie." She looked at her firewoman with a coy smile and began tapping her foot. "So when's this little adventure of yours taking place Sarah? And why do I get the feeling you won't be getting much sleep when it does?"

"You were listening in the whole time?!" Sarah yelled.

"Duh," Samantha said. "No way was I going to miss this one. I wanted to see if you'd finally make the big play for him that you've been dying to make all this time. And you did! It's fabulous. You and Bruce are the new power couple around here now."

Sarah got nervous. "Uh, I don't know about that Samantha," she said. "What if Bruce decides in the end that we should just be friends?"

Samantha snorted and laughed loudly. "Whatever! Things been moving a little fast for you Sarah? Have you totally forgotten that he said he felt the same way about you? He is all yours Sarah. Stick a fork in him, 'cause he's done!" Samantha stepped a little closer to Sarah. "Now come on," she encouraged. "I've been saving a special bottle of hooch for this moment. It's time to celebrate!"

"Are you sure about that?" Sarah asked.

"Oh yeah," Samantha said. "This one's going in the history books."

The next morning, on the final day of the festival, Sarah was amazed that she could stand, much less do her job. Whoa. Whatever that hooch was that Samantha had given her the previous evening was the strongest stuff she'd ever had. Her mouth tasted like the inside of an unlaundered sweatshirt and her head felt like Erika had just run over it.

She tried taking off her sunglasses, but the bright light of the sun forced her to put them back on. "Ooooh," she winced. Note to self, she thought. Don't celebrate like that with Samantha again.

With the final day of the festival came the big excursion to London and back. But if they were to make it back to Ulfstead Castle in time for the big conclusion, they had to get underway soon. Daemon was already up and steaming by the time Sarah and Samantha showed up. "I was beginning to wonder if you two were going to show up at all," Erika complained. "We don't have a lot of time to get ready before the excursion to London departs."

"Sorry about that old girl," Samantha apologized. "My fault entirely. I convinced Sarah to do a little more "celebrating" last night than she probably should have."

You can say that again, Sarah groaned to herself. Ouch.

Erika frowned. "Is there something I need to know?"

"No Erika there isn't," Sarah quickly said. "Let's just get you steamed up and ready to go."

Erika was about to quiz Sarah a little further when Daemon rolled up next to her. "Good mornin' lil' darlin'."

Erika whistled in exasperation and rolled her eyes. "If you say so."

"Aw now don't tell me you gonna have water in your dad gum cylinders all day long?" Daemon grumbled.

"If I choose to Daemon," Erika fired back. "It's my right."

"What in the daggone tarnation is wrong with ya?" Daemon asked.

"If I choose to be in a bad mood Daemon, that's my decision and my right," Erika said triumphantly.

"Fine," Daemon said. "Why in the heck would I wanna bring myself down ta that level anyway?" Moving on he asked, "Ya wanna lead this trip, or should I?"

"You should know by now that I always lead Daemon," Erika growled. "And so too shall it be the case with this trip. I'd sooner have Joshua leading me than you."

Joshua was the modern SD70ACe painted in Southern Pacific heritage colors. Erika had met him once the year before coming to Sodor. Though he was diesel, he was at least a respectful one and seemed to actually be in awe of the stories Erika told him about her days as a passenger engine in California. While Erika would hardly call Joshua a friend, she didn't have any animosity towards him either.

"Suit yourself lil' darlin'," Daemon said. This was getting ridiculous. He'd been here on Sodor for four months and Erika still had problem with him. Well Daemon had almost had it with Erika's foul attitude towards him. Sooner or later he was going to have to confront her about the source of her anger and if Daemon had his way, that would come a lot sooner than later.

Daemon ran down to the switches ahead of Tidmouth Station, then reversed and coupled up to the train. Erika followed suit, coupling up ahead of Daemon. As the crowd of passengers began to board, Sir Robert Norramby climbed up into Daemon's cab. "Top of the morning gentlemen," he said cheerfully.

"Good morning sir," Bruce and Mike said in unison.

"You going to ride up here with us again today?" Bruce asked.

"No, no," Sir Robert aid. "I shall ride in the carriages today. But I just thought I'd stop by and wish you all a pleasant journey."

"Well thank you sir," Bruce said. "We hope you enjoy the ride."

"Oh I will, trust me," he said with a jovial laugh. "Will either of you be lunching with us today?"

"Uh well, I can't speak for Mike," Bruce said. "I, on the other hand, already have plans."

"Mike?" Sir Robert asked.

"Well as I one of us has to stay here and monitor the engine while we're parked, that will have to be me seeing as how Bruce already has plans," Mike replied. "But thanks all the same."

"Very well then," Sir Robert replied. "Rain checks all around. Right. Well, as I said, have a pleasant journey and I'm off to go say good morning to the ladies."

"You do the same Sir Robert," Bruce replied. "Enjoy the trip."

Mike eyed Bruce with suspicion. "Just what lunch plans do you have?"

"Truthfully speaking, possibly nothing," Bruce admitted. "But either way, certainly nothing that involves his grace."

Sometime later as the last of the festival goers boarded, Sir Topham Hatt arrived on the platform and spoke to Sir Robert. Whatever they said to each other was lost amid the noise to both engine crews. Samantha leaned out window and looked back down the platform. The conductor and car attendants were making their final checks in preparation for departure. She grabbed her radio. "Looks like we're about ready to go," she said. "You boys ready?"

"As ready as we're going to be," Bruce replied.

"Try not to slow me down Daemon," Erika grumbled.

"Don't ya worry about a thing lil' darlin'," he replied.

Even Samantha and Sarah were tiring of Erika's attitude towards Daemon. "Erika, behave yourself!" Samantha griped at her.

Down on the platform, the conductor blew his whistle, signaling they were ready to leave. Sir Robert Norramby hopped on board at that instant and made a mental note to himself. The next time he was on one of these excursions, he was going to shout "All Aboard," before the conductor blew his whistle. After all, it was an American excursion. Might as well do things the way the Americans did.

Samantha blew Erika's whistle while Bruce simultaneously blew Daemon's. "Here we go," Samantha said as she yanked back Erika's throttle. Amidst a cloud of steam, noisy stack chuffs and cheers from dozens of railfans on the platform, Erika and Daemon started the London-bound excursion out of Tidmouth Station.

After crossing over to the mainland and stopping for their first photo run-by just outside of Barrow, Erika and Daemon pulled the excursion east over a long bridge across the River Leven and then skirted the coast line along the Kent Channel before turning south to their second planed photo run-by near Manchester. After that it was south to Nottingham for a third photo run-by and then southwest Coventry for a fourth one before turning southeast to King's Cross Station in London.

Thousands of people lined the tracks the entire way to see the big American steam engines in action, many of them having never seen one, let alone two, before. Men and women alike filmed the train trackside and many proceed to jump in their cars and chase after it once it had gone by. Children sat atop the shoulders of their fathers waving madly as the big engines thundered by, and covering their ears in nervousness every time their deep "demonic" whistles blew.

London was unlike anything Daemon had ever seen before. "Wow," he said as they steamed through the heart of the city. "Would ya look at this place!"

Even Erika was in awe as she had never been to London before. Though it was far ahead and somewhat obscured by other buildings in the area, she could just make out the Big Ben clock tower and the Houses of Parliament on the other side of the River Thames. To the left of that she could see the very tops of the towers that gave London's famous "Tower Bridge" its name.

Approaching King's Cross Station, the track pattern forced Erika and Daemon to divert to a northbound line and then back the train in. The entire trip, including the run-bys, had taken just over six hours and both Erika and Daemon were beginning to feel it all the way into their drivers. As there were no proper steam locomotive facilities nearby to service them, special arrangements had been made to refill their tenders with fuel and water pumped in from tank cars parked on an adjacent track.

Daemon had never been inside such a fancy train shed before. With its high arched roof and Victorian-style decoration, he felt like he'd just stepped back in time over a hundred years. "Aw look at this lil' darlin'," he couldn't resist saying. "Did ya ever see anythin' more beautiful in your life? Sure as heck beats them covered platforms back in Dallas, that's for sure."

Erika ignored him only because she was too much awe of what was around her to respond. Edith had told her about King's Cross Station and how gorgeous it was before. But now, sitting in its shed for the first time, Erika thought her sister's words didn't do it justice. It was more beautiful than she could've imagined and it almost seemed the type of station to be tailor-made for a Daylight engine. She sniffed sadly. "You would've loved this Elena," she whispered. "You would've loved it."

In Erika's cab, Samantha placed a hand on her growling stomach. "Ooooh man, am I hungry. Hey Sarah, why don't you head on back and ask the boys what they've got in mind for lunch. Maybe one of us can make a run to Wimpy's or something. I'll keep an eye on the fire."

"You got it," Sarah said. She climbed down from Erika's cab and walked back over to Daemon. Climbing up into his cab, she found Bruce and Mike discussing that very subject. "Looks like you read our minds. We were wondering what you guys wanted to do for lunch. Should one of us make a run somewhere?"

"Not necessary," Bruce said, his plan coming together like clockwork. "Today we shall dine at the Coal Scoop Café."

Sarah wrinkled her brow in confusion. "Sound good, but I've never heard of the place."

Bruce hopped off his seat and lifted it up so he could get into the storage compartment underneath. "That's because you're standing in it," he said.

Sarah was even more confused now. "Huh?"

Bruce pulled a large cooler out of the storage bin beneath his seat. "To dine at the Coal Scoop Café, you need only two things," he said. He reached behind his seat and took a shovel down from the peg it normally hung on. "A clean coal shovel…" Bruce then made a grand sweeping gesture towards Daemon's firebox. "and a roaring firebox."

Sarah's eyes widened. "You can't be serious."

"Sure I am," Bruce said. "Steam railroaders have done this for over a hundred and fifty years. 'Where this is a clean shovel and a live steam engine, railroaders shall eat hot food.' At least that's what my uncle always used to say. Learned all about this little trick of the trade firing Brent up in North Freedom, Wisconsin." He reached into the cooler and pulled out four baseball sized wads of tin foil and placed them on the small shelf just above Daemon's firebox door. As he slightly opened each one to vent, he added, "Although admittedly this does work a little better on an actual coal-fired engine."

"So what are those then," Sarah asked.

"Potatoes," Bruce said. "Wrap 'em foil, add some water, oil and seasonings, put them on this here shelf like so… they'll be steamed, soft and ready to eat in no time."

"Unbelievable," Sarah said. She turned around. "Mike?"

Mike just spread his arms wide. "Hey Bruce taught me about all this. We do it all the time."

"Mm hm," Bruce agreed. Next he pulled half a stick of butter out of the cooler, put it in the bowl of the shovel and then set it just inside the firebox to heat it up. Within minutes, the butter was melted and sizzling and Bruce was placing four homemade hamburger patties in the shovel bowl. Placing it carefully back into the firebox, he waited for it to cook.

Way up at the front of train, Erika's nose was suddenly assaulted by the scent of spices and cooking meat. She looked around but didn't see any formal restaurants nearby. She sniffed the air again. Definitely beef. "What is that?" she asked to no one in particular. "Daemon, do you smell that?"

Daemon got a whiff of the air and smiled. "Mmmm. Well ain't that a hoot? Smells like the Coal Scoop Café is open for business," he said.

"What?" Erika asked.

"Aw that just means Mister Bruce and Mister Mike is cookin' up some goodies for lunch," Daemon explained.

That sounded strange. "Okay but… what are they cooking with?" Erika wanted to know.

"Well what d'ya think they cookin' with lil' darlin'?" Daemon asked. "They's usin' my firebox ta cook whatever it is they's cookin'."

Erika was floored. "Are you kidding me?" she said.

Samantha had been listening to the exchange between the two engines and now leaned out her cab window to look back at Daemon. "I was about to ask you the same question," she said.

"Naw," Daemon said. "They does this kinda thing all the time lil' darlin's." He smiled. "If Mister Bruce is cookin' up some goodies for him and Mister Mike, I bet he'll cook some up for you and Miss Sarah too. Mister Bruce is real thoughtful and generous like that."

Samantha smiled as she got another whiff of what Bruce was cooking in Daemon's firebox. "It sure does smell good," she said.

Within a few minutes, Bruce had produced four perfectly cooked to medium hamburgers. Using a metal spatula to remove them from the shovel, Bruce placed them on the buns he'd stowed in the cooler and went back to cooking as Mike dressed the burgers. "Hamburgers a la Daemon," he said. "The house specialty."

Sarah laughed as Bruce proceeded to cook a few strips of bacon for the burgers followed by four plump sausages. In no time, they were hot and sizzling and added to the meal. "So what else to you cook in there?"

Bruce tossed an assortment of sliced peppers, onions and carrots onto the shovel and set it back inside the firebox. "Not much beyond what you've seen already. It does have its limitations. But we also cook eggs, pork chops, steak, fried potatoes on occasion and chicken." Pulling the vegetables out of the firebox and gently scooping them off with the spatula, he said, "Don't ever try this without having a good metal spatula handy. You can guess what will happen to your hand if you don't."

"Yes I can," Sarah agreed.

Lastly, Bruce served the now cooked potatoes that had been slowly roasting above the firebox door and gave Mike a look that said it was his cue to exit. "Um," Mike said with a knowing smile. "Why I don't go take these plates up to Samantha? I'm sure she's hungry like the rest of us."

Bruce nodded in appreciation. "I'm sure she is. Thanks Mike."

"Mind watching Daemon's fire for me Sarah," Mike asked.

"Only if you watch Erika's for me," she insisted.

"Consider it done," Mike said as he made his exit.

After he'd left, Sarah gave Bruce a coy look and tapped her foot. It actually made Bruce a little nervous. "What?" he asked.

Sarah smiled. "Bruce, I've known you for a few months now and in that time, I've never seen you do anything like this. I therefore, have to suspect that there is some ulterior motive that led you to cooking at the Coal Scoop Café today."

Bruce returned her smile. "Guilty as charged," he confessed. "Truth of the matter is I wanted our first date to be one that only true railroaders could have and appreciate."

Sarah felt her heart swell with pride and affection. "Aw Bruce," she said. "You didn't have to do all that."

"I know," he said. "I wanted to." He pulled her close and gave her a deep kiss before turning his attention back to the cooler one last time and extracting a bottle and a pair of plastic wine glasses. "It's hardly appropriate and rather dangerous for us to be drinking actual wine at the moment," he said. "So I thought some sparkling grape juice would be an acceptable substitute."

Sarah laughed. "That would be wonderful Bruce," she said. With that, Bruce served her and they settled in to enjoy their "Daemon cooked" lunch. She bit into the grilled burger and smiled. "Oh wow, that's really good," she said.

"I thank you for that," Bruce said. "I know that it's not much, but… it's a first date."

Sarah reached forward and touched Bruce's face. With an affectionate smile, she said, "Best first date I've ever had Bruce. Thank you so much."

"You're welcome."

All too soon, the passengers had re-boarded and it was time for the excursion to head back to Sodor. Making only two photo run-by stops along the way near Coventry and Nottingham, the train crossed over the Channel Bridge into Vicarstown and passed through where it started in Tidmouth before heading up the Ffarquahar Line to Ulfstead. With thousands of people lining the streets to greet Erika and Daemon as they arrived, the train stopped at its final destination in Ulfstead Castle precisely at 8:30 pm as planned.

All of the other American engines were already there and grand feast of American style barbecue was served to the excursion's passengers and anyone else who turned out for the last night of the festival. Sir Topham Hatt was there along with his wife, Lady Hatt, and of course Brett and Baroness Anastasia were there too. Even Yvette Fowler had made a rare appearance for the last event.

Before getting something to eat, Sarah made a check of Erika's running gear. As she walked around in front of her, Erika spoke to her. "Sarah, can we talk a minute?"

"Sure Erika," Sarah said. "What's on your mind?"

"It's about you and Bruce."

Sarah pursed her lips. She suspected this conversation would be coming sooner or later. "I thought it might be," she confessed. "Before you get started Erika, I have to say that your grilling of him over his intentions a couple days ago was not appreciated."

"I'm sorry Sarah," Erika apologized. "I'm only concerned about you and your well-being."

"I understand that Erika and to a point, I do appreciate it," she replied. "However, you know the rules as well as anyone. Stay out of your crews' personal lives unless specifically asked."

"Do you love him Sarah?" Erika asked.

"I don't know Erika," Sarah truthfully answered. "Only time will answer that question because it is way too early in our relationship to know. But I do know this, I am definitely "in like" and I am very much enjoying getting to know him better. And that lunch date we had in Daemon's cab today was the best date I've ever had in my life."

Recalling her own years of loves come and gone Erika asked, "Then what am I not understanding here Sarah? Aren't you afraid of getting hurt by him?"

Sarah smiled. Time to play relationship counselor. "Of course I am Erika," Sarah confessed. "Anyone with a heart would be afraid."

"Then why take the risk Sarah?" Erika wondered. "Why take the chance of getting your heart broken?"

Again Sarah smiled and climbed up onto the porch just under Erika's faceplate. "Because Erika," she said. "If I do not take the chance; if I do not risk getting my heart broken, then I also close my heart off from the ability to love. So many people today think that you can have one without risking the other and that's just not the case. Love and risk of rejection and betrayal go hand in hand whether you like it or not. And if you think about it Erika, you did the same thing when you fell in love with Gordon."

Erika did think about it for moment. And as she considered her firewoman's words, a great truth dawned on her. "You're right Sarah," she said. "You're absolutely right. I never thought of it that way before." She smiled at her firewoman. "Thank you Sarah."

"You're welcome Erika."

Bruce suddenly appeared next to her holding a plate of steaming hot food out to her. "Thought you might be hungry," he said.

Rescued by Bruce yet again, Sarah thought. "You read my mind Brucey," she said.

His face twisted in confusion dumbfounded wonder and he presented her with his best "What the heck?" expression. "Brucey?" he asked her.

Sarah glanced at Erika and immediately the two of them broke down in a fit of laughter leaving poor Bruce further confused. "Bruce," Erika said. "I hope you'll accept my humblest apologies for "grilling you" as it was put to me about your relationship with Sarah. It's not my place to get in the middle of that. And may I also say that I hope you get to have at least half of what Gordon and I share, because if you do, you'll be deliriously happy with each other. So again, I'm sorry."

Bruce nodded to her with a smile. "I accept your apology Erika. Thank you."

A moment later, a grand fireworks display began over the town, the sky becoming a fiery rainbow of colors and patterns. Sarah leaned back against Bruce to watch, quietly sighing with content as he wrapped his arms around her.

All of the engines stared up in awe at the display. "Wow," Daemon said. "Makes ya proud ta be an American, don't it lil' darlin'?"

For the moment, Erika forgot about the anger she still felt towards him. "That it does Daemon. That it does."

"Ya as homesick as I am right now lil' darlin'?" he wondered.

Erika didn't want to admit it, but she was a little. Even though Sodor had been very kind to her and she wouldn't trade what she had now for anything, especially her relationship with Gordon, America was still her home and she missed it. "Maybe just a little Daemon," she confessed. "Just a little."

When the fireworks display concluded, Sir Robert Norramby and a local band led the crowd in the thundering version of "Happy Birthday Dear America" before Sir Topham Hatt took the podium to make a speech. "Thank you all for coming this evening to the last event of our American Steam Days festival. We couldn't have done it without you."

There was a loud applause from the crowd and the gathered engines all blew their whistles.

"It's been an extraordinary four days for us and one of the best festivals the Island of Sodor has ever hosted," Sir Topham Hatt continued. "I'd to thank all of you for coming out over the past few days, to meet and get to know our friends from across the ocean. They have a special place here on the Island of Sodor, as well as a special place in the hearts and minds of us all."

Amid the applause and whistles, Sarah turned to look at Bruce. She twitched her eyebrows a couple of times at him and smiled. Bruce turned slightly red with embarrassment, but laughed at the gesture.

"With that being said," Sir Topham Hatt went on. "All of you now please join me in a warm thank you to our American engines and crews because without them, this festival never would have existed."

More deafening applause and whistles, perhaps the most enthusiastic of which came from Sir Robert Norramby as he stood leaning against Daemon's left cylinder.

"Alas, all good things must come to an end I'm afraid," Sir Topham Hatt said. "So too it must be for this. I therefore hereby declare the American Steam Days Festival officially closed."

A collective "Awwwww," was heard through the crowd.

Sit Topham Hatt then made his grand announcement. "However I invite each and every one you here, as well as every other railfan and enthusiast around the world, to come to the Island of Sodor next July when we shall celebrate… the Second Annual American Steam Days Festival!"

His announcement that the festival would be repeated next year drew the loudest applause of all from the crowd. Every one of the gathered engines blew their whistles in rapid succession. They'd done it! The festival would be repeated.

"Yeeeeeeeahooooooweeeeeeeeee!" Daemon yelled happily. "We did it lil' darlin'! We did it!" He blew his whistle in joy numerous times.

Erika could help but laugh in happiness too. She glanced up at the sky and for a brief second, she could almost feel every other engine she'd ever known joining in their celebration. Yeah Daemon, she thought. We did it.

Sir Topham Hatt wrapped up his speech. "And now everyone please… there is still plenty of good food and music to enjoy. So please do and get as many more pictures of our American friends while you still can! Good night everyone and we'll see you again next year!"

As Sir Topham Hatt stepped down from the podium, the band began playing again. Bruce offered his hand to Sarah. "May I have this dance?"

Sarah smiled and accepted it. "You may absolutely have this dance dear Bruce."

He chuckled. "Thank you. That sounds a lot better than Brucey," he teased. Cheek to cheek with each other, they laughed as he began to lead.

The next morning dawned bright and sunny, but a tad bit depressing for the engines of Sodor. The festival was over and it was now back to business as usual. Still, the memories of what they had experienced during the short four day celebration would live on in their minds forever. And there was still one more trip that, although technically part of the festival, was nevertheless sold out… Edith's return trip to the mainland. She was triple-heading one way with her coaches along with Erika and Gordon as they pulled the morning Nor' Western Daylight to Barrow. From there, she and her coaches would continue home as Erika and Gordon returned to Tidmouth. As Diesel and Percy went about getting the coaches ready, and Diesel constantly grumbling about it, Edith had a few final words with Daemon.

"I'm going to miss you Daemon," she confessed. "Though our time together so far has been short, I think we've built quite the friendship and, dare I say, family connection in that time?"

Daemon chuckled. "I's real glad ya think that way lil' darlin'," he said. "Because I think so too. And I'll be boiler blasted if I ain't gonna miss ya like the dickens too lil' darlin'."

Edith laughed. Despite his country-ness, Daemon really did have his own kind of charm and wit. "Daemon, I have to confess, if you weren't my cousin and if I didn't already have my little steam puff over there…" She nodded in Henry's direction, who blushed profusely.

"What?" Daemon asked.

"Well," Edith said with a smile. "Under different circumstances, this old city girl might just have been persuaded to fall for a country boy."

Erika overhead and wondered how humans felt when they suffered indigestion. Because she was certain it was close to what she was feeling right now.

Daemon laughed. "Same goes for me lil' darlin'," he said. "And I confess, it wouldn't be the first time a city girl was charmed by this here country boy neither."

Now it was Edith's turn to laugh. "When I'm back this way you'll have to tell me all about your Texas Peach."

"I'll do that lil' darlin'," he agreed.

Edith rolled forward and gave Daemon a kiss on the cheek. "I look forward to seeing you again soon Daemon. So take care of yourself now."

"You too."

"And uh, do me a favor?" Edith asked. "Be patient with Erika. She's a kind woman, a strong woman, but a bit stubborn. And right now, I think she may be a little lost and confused. I don't know. But in any case, watch over her for me will you?"

"Lil' darlin', I been doin' that since the day I got here," Daemon told her. "Ya don't worry none about that, ya hear?"

Edith nodded. "All right Daemon. Thanks."

"Ya have a safe trip now lil' darlin'," he said.

As Daemon backed away, Henry rolled up to take his place the look of sadness on his face clear as day. "I can't believe you're already leaving. We had so little time together this visit."

Edith started getting overcome with emotion. "I know my little steam puff," she sniffed. "But I'll be back soon. Ms. Fowler and Brett are always bringing me here, you know that."

"I know," Henry said. "But even so… it doesn't make it any easier when I have to say goodbye to you."

Tears formed in Edith's eyes. "Oh Henry," she said. "My little steam puff." She rolled up as close to him as she could and kissed him several times before she rested her forehead on his. "In all my life, I never imagined that I'd ever fall for someone like you. And now that I have so completely and hopelessly, I can't help but wonder how I ever lived without you."

Henry, emotional basket case that he always became whenever he was forced to separate from Edith, began bawling. "Me too Edith," he said. "Never in all my life thought I'd ever fall for a big, beautiful American girl."

Seeing Henry cry like this always broke Edith's heart. "Please my little steam puff, don't cry."

"I can't help it Edith," Henry wailed through his tears. "Why must you leave? Why can't Sir Topham Hatt let you live here?!"

"Henry we've been through this a million times," Edith explained. "If it was up to Sir Topham Hatt, I'm sure he would. But Sir Topham Hatt doesn't own me. Yvette Fowler owns me and Brett retains managerial control of me."

"Then tell them to bring you here to live!" Henry screamed.

"Henry please," Edith begged, her own tears now starting to come. "Please don't make this harder than it already is. Maybe one day things will be different, but for now, it is what it is and nothing you or I do will change that. We're engines Henry and we live by a different set of rules and acceptable behaviors than humans do, as much we try to live just like them."

Henry nodded sadly. "I know beautiful," he sniffed. "Dammit, I know that. I just wish it wasn't the case."

"My little steam puff," Edith tried to smile. She leaned in and kissed him long and deep. Back in her cab, Brett chuckled and shook his head. This was not the first time he'd seen engines behave like this, but until recently Edith had always a little too proud to be consumed by romance. Then, bam… she'd met Henry and all that had changed. Looking across the cab at his fireman and newly appointed apprentice firewoman… Brett's own wife, Baroness Anastasia… he couldn't help but laugh and shrug.

What was he going to do? Tell Edith she couldn't have boyfriend? Yeah. That would go over real good with her, not to mention his own wife. As for the overly-emotional Henry, well he was ever grateful that he didn't have to deal with that. An occasionally overly-emotional female engine was bad enough but a grossly over-emotional male engine was too much. No thank you very much, Brett thought.

He looked across the cab at his wife and she batted her eyelashes at him. Just then, a sudden flare up in Edith's firebox got their attention. The kiss between her and Henry was turning into a serious make-out session. Even so, Brett was content to let them carry on for a few more minutes. Eventually though, he had to pat Edith's throttle, signaling her that it was time to go.

Reluctantly, Edith pulled back away from Henry. "Goodbye my little steam puff. I love you and be careful."

"I will beautiful," he said through his tears. "I love you too. And you get yourself back here to me as soon as you can."

"I will Henry," she promised him. "I will."

At Tidmouth Station, Erika greeted her beloved Gordon as they prepared to take the morning Nor' Western to Barrow. "Good morning my big, strong express," she said.

"Well," Gordon teased Erika. "If it isn't what's-her-name?"

Well at least he was joking with her instead of arguing with her. That was a good sign. "Ha, ha Gordon," Erika said sarcastically. "Maybe you'd like to pull the express alone again today?"

"No, no, not at all," Gordon said quickly. "I was just teasing you. I've actually been rather lonesome doing this all by myself the past few days."

"That's better," Erika said with a coy smile. "And I admit I've been rather lonely without you around the past few days as well."

Gordon nodded with a smile. "Well, that's good then. As they say, 'absence makes the heart grow fonder' or something like that."

"Well then I can assure you my big, strong express that my heart has grown that much fonder being separated from you these past few days," Erika said.

"So has mine my beautiful Daylight," Gordon confided. "So has mine. Shall we get started?"

"Of course," Erika said. There was a job to do after all.

Although Erika's demand to be the lead engine whenever she double-headed with anyone else was largely granted, on this particular occasion it was not. As Edith would have to separate from the train in Barrow, it only made sense to couple Edith in ahead of Erika and her coaches in behind the regular express coaches. That would make the switching maneuver in Barrow easier and they wouldn't have to disassemble the Nor' Western Daylight to do it.

All during the trip to Barrow, Edith and Erika barely spoke to one another. Though the festival in general has been a pleasant experience for Erika, the one dark spot in it had been the apparent souring of her relationship with Edith. It gnawed at Erika because it wasn't all that long ago that the miracle of miracles had happened when she'd gotten Edith back. She didn't want to lose Edith again, and most certainly not over someone like Daemon.

In Barrow, the switch maneuver was completed quickly and Edith along with her train were spotted on the track next to Erika and Gordon. Though Erika had a little while to wait before they were cleared back to Tidmouth, Edith had only a few minutes before she'd be given a clear signal. She decided, win or lose, to give Erika one more lesson.

"It's been good seeing you again Erika," she said.

"You too Edith," Erika replied tersely.

"Look Erika," Edith began. "I know you don't approve of my friendship with Daemon or that I call him family." She exhaled heavily when Erika didn't answer. "The problem Erika is that I don't care. I'm too damned old to continue clinging to whatever rivalries, jealousies and frustrations consumed me in the past. And so are you Erika. Do you realize that if we were humans at our ages we'd be nothing more than two little old ladies sitting our front porches watching the world pass us by? And that's happened to us both once before. Nowhere is it written that it couldn't happen again. Yet here we are. Alive, in good health and doing what it is we were built to do."

"What's your point Edith?" Erika said flatly.

"You're my sister Erika," Edith said. "And I love you. I always have and I always will. I don't know what it is you're so angry at Daemon over Erika. But whatever it is, let it go. You've been holding onto it for sixty years and I'm willing to bet that that's fifty-nine and a half years longer than you should have. Continuing to hold on to it like that security blanket that Linus always clutches to isn't going to bring you true peace or relief. If anything it's going to continue lying to you until it drives you mad."

Erika considered her sister's words. "I don't know if I can let go," she said slowly.

"Then what is it that you're so angry and upset about," Edith asked her. "Daemon has no idea."

"Yes he does," Erika corrected.

"No he doesn't!" Edith said firmly. "Good Lord Erika, you've held this thing, whatever it is, over his head for six decades and you can't even bring yourself to tell him what he's accused of? What's wrong with you Erika? If you're going to continue on this pointless path of accusation, anger and misery, then at least have the courtesy to tell Daemon what it is he's being accused of. He has a right to know at least that much."

Erika didn't respond to that.

Edith waited for a couple moments, hoping Erika would say something. But when Erika didn't, Edith sighed in resignation. "Very well Erika," she said in a much calmer tone. "I can't force you to do anything you don't want to do and I'll do you the courtesy of not bringing this subject up again. What I will say is that all I can do is advise you. And right now my advice is for you to let it go whatever it is. Make peace with it. You've held on to it for far too long. And I also hope that you do so before something dreadful happens to either of you. Because while there are four GS series locomotives left now, sooner or later there will come a day when there are none. Now that day might not be today, tomorrow or a hundred years from now. But that day will come Erika. That day will come."

The signal ahead of Edith turned green and Brett blew Edith's whistle.

"Good bye Erika," Edith concluded. "I'll see you again very soon. And I love you very much my sister."

And with that, Brett hauled back on Edith's throttle, starting off for home.

A faint smile crept onto Erika's features as Edith departed. "I love you too Edith my sister," she said as the last car cleared the train shed.