Wrench sat at the bar stirring her drink, lost in thought. She nearly didn't notice the larger freighter engine that took a seat next to her.

The hum she heard was not the type she heard with most diesels even. The signature 20 cylinder hum of an SD45 class. She looked up with a hint of side eye.

Just as she suspected.

"Last I checked you were supposed to be resting in your shed, not in here getting tipsy."

Strike smirked, "What? You know engines, you really expect us to sit around in the sheds when our engines are adequate enough."

Wrench couldn't help but notice how he intentionally diverted away from implying his engine was in "working order". They both knew that wasn't true. Heck everyone did. How on earth would a road switcher be doing yard work if it wasn't some cover for some grave issue?

"Disappointed but not surprised. You've got some balls not turning back when you saw your own damn repair truck in here taking the evening off after working on you. You know I could just drag you back to your shed by the ear".

Strike grinned, "Only if you'll tuck me in".

If Wrench had a nickel for every time she wanted to smack him…. Can't do that now though, as annoying as he could be, he was her patient, and with his nature of injury, just a playful tap over the head could inflict some damage.

"Y'know you really shouldn't be drinking in your state". She said trying to convince the engine back home, but Strike just made himself comfortable in the bench next to her.

"I'll just have one beer and I'll be gone. Just needed to get out is all." Strike's gaze drifted from playful to thoughtful as he shifted his eyes up and ahead, looking at nothing in particular.

Wrench turned her attention to the sangria sitting in front of her at the bar, taking a long sip from the glass.

"Really I just wanted to see you…" Strike suddenly piped up.

Wrench was surprised. Was he really being that forthcoming? That's not typical from him.

"See me? Didn't you just see me while I was working on you?"

"Well yeah, but like… A more casual setting. Not in a patient-doc kinda way y'know."

Wrench supposed she could understand that. Strike seemed wary about her when she was working on him anyways. A little white coat syndrome perhaps?

Strike ordered a single glass of PBR for himself before settling in to make small talk with Wrench.

"So you've been with the old Santa Fe for a while now?" he asked

"Well yes and no I suppose, before I came back to join BNSF, I had a… different job," Wrench diverted her attention to her glass.

"Oh?" Strike raised an eyebrow.

Strike certainly wasn't pushing to know more, but she did bring it up. It was not like it was something she felt like she needed to hide or anything really. It was a job.

Who was she kidding, it was more than a job….

"I suppose you could say I, in a sense, worked for Amtrak for a time", she continued.

"Amtrak huh, I suppose they need breakdown cranes just as much as any other railroad, they buy you off Santa Fe or something?"

"Not quite, I was more hired as a private caretaker, for one of their electric engines. He was a real star on his line you know. One of the fastest engines in North America."

Strike stayed silent to allow Wrench to continue.

"I was his caretaker and trainer, having him all groomed and kept in good shape for racing and his high speed work pulling passenger trains. I was a member of a team of trucks who minded him."

"Was it a good gig?"

"I'd say so, yes"

"So why did you leave to get into working for BNSF?"

Wrench sighed.

"You see, being as much of a high status engine as he was, he was allowed a special spot in the World Championship. Between his speed and the fact he had several physical advantages over the engines from other nations, he had a very good chance of winning. He ended up making the final cut for the championship. He raced, and well… he wrecked. That was the year Rusty won."

Strike's heart sank, "He wrecked?"

Upon realizing what she implied, she quickly jumped back in to explain things, "No no it wasn't a horrific accident or anything, he was hurt but nothing I couldn't fix….. Really it was his pride that was hurt more. He felt disgraced by the results of the race, too ashamed to return home, he just sort of… left, disappeared."

Strike adopted a skeptical look, "How exactly do you go about losing an electric? Isn't he restricted to power lines?"

Wrench sighed, "As ridiculous as it sounds, it's more likely than you think"

Strike became more intrigued.

"I don't expect you've had much contact with electrics, I know I didn't before working with Electra. When I still worked for Sante Fe, I worked heavily with diesels and a few steamers here and there", Wrench continued, "When in racing mode, electrics can actually hold a charge for some period of time".

"So what your saying is, he could've ventured off the lines?"

"For a few hours yes, he could've run out of power and stranded himself on some abandoned line somewhere for all we know."

Wrench's expression grew more and more bleak as she continued.

"We did our best to look for him, unfortunately we trucks can't go far without an engine. We were forced to give up and go our separate ways…. I really wish I knew where the others were. I'm really worried about all of them, Electra included."

Strike was taken aback. He was used to Wrench's hardass demeanor. Seeing her get emotional was new for him.

"Electra didn't just take us as his minders because we were good at our jobs y'know… We had jobs before, but were left abandoned for one reason or another. Electra took us in when we had nowhere else to go. Fortunately I was able to find my way back to work for BNSF but I don't know how the others ended up."

Strike didn't really know what to say to make Wrench feel any better.

"I'm sorry", was all he could come up with.

Wrench sighed quietly, "At least I know I'm in good company".

Had it been anyone else (and the alcohol certainly helped too), Wrench would have probably never opened up about to, Strike also went through hell and back and is still going through it.

Strike only just noticed he'd barely touched his drink, though now he wasn't really feeling into drinking.

He left some cash on the counter for the tender, and got up to leave.

"Sorry I won't bug you anymore".

Clearly the small talk he tried wasn't so small.

Wrench touched his shoulder padding.

"No really it's okay…. I'm sorry I got so emotional, it's not like me.."

Strike thought a moment about what Wrench just said.

"As a repair truck, I don't imagine you like seeing rollingstock trying to hide their pain. If they're hurting, it means something's wrong, trying to hide it can turn a bad issue worse, am I right?"

Wrench didn't say anything, but Strike could tell by the look in her eyes that this was true.

"Then why try to hide yours? What does it fix?"

Wrench was silent, Strike waited for some indication of life for a while, but decided to get up and leave.

As Strike's back was turned, Wrench finally spoke.

"That certainly says something coming from you".

Strike didn't know how to respond to that, so he got moving once more and made his way back to the yard.