Flying Scotsman sat quietly in the hoist at the Steamworks. He was in the midst of his bi-weekly deep cleanse and was nodding in and out of sleep. It was the first time he had left Meredith's side since his confrontation with Mallard and he was definitely uneasy. He wanted to be with his little engine, but knew his maintenance simply could not be neglected. It had also been a few weeks since he laid with Meredith. He wanted to give her body and mind proper time to heal but the two did partake in the occasional heated makeout. Scotsman foolishly thought it would help stave off his desires but it only made them more intense, which was unsurprising. He was proper wound up. He certainly didn't want to pressure Meredith, but his undercarriage ached violently. He desperately needed the release.

Some time had passed and the workmen had moved on to scrubbing Scotsman's underbelly. It was all well and good until they came upon his intimate parts and they required him to drop it. He felt the worker give his usual three taps to signal he needed to release his panel, but the big engine hesitated. He just knew them rubbing on it to clean would be too stimulating no matter how un-sexy the whole exchange might be. He didn't want to be known as the engine who couldn't hold it together during a cleaning. Another three taps, but this time they were a little frustrated. Flying Scotsman bit his lip and relented. He took a deep breath and did everything he could to distract himself from the unwanted tingling. He tried to focus on Dirk as he scuttled about the bay below him, but that didn't help whatsoever. Scotsman found the little German engine too enticing so instead he glanced over to Quicksilver —Spencer's slightly less stupid twin brother— as he hung from a gantry nearer the front of the Steamworks. The big silver brute was snoring loudly as his pistons were being worked on.

Scotsman's focus on the sparkly A4 did some good in distracting him… until it got time for the actual soap and water. His eyes shot wide and his wheels trembled at the slippery, delicious warmth. It felt like Meredith and suddenly his mind went to where it shouldn't have. He could hear her moans, he felt her heavy breathing hot against his face. Suddenly he wasn't at the Steamworks; he was in his berth pounding out that beautiful little engine as she begged for more. He groaned deep in his boiler and muttered a quiet 'fuck'. He couldn't hold his release back. He didn't want to. His body shuddered and he let go with a guttural sigh. This little slip was met with much annoyance from the crew tasked with cleaning the big engine, but he didn't care. He felt much, much better.

"Couldn't hold it, could ya?"

Scotsman glanced over at a smirking Kestrel who was also there for a cleaning, he was much less bothered by the warm, soapy water. "It happens."

Kestrel laughed. "Not to you."

"Your point?"

"That little titter has you frustrated, doesn't she?"

"She does not!"

Kestrel couldn't control his laughter. "Oh-ho, please! You used to be so sexed out you couldn't even masturbate yourself. Now look at you, climaxing from a scrub."

Flying Scotsman was embarrassed. His snooty A4 cousin was right. He had become so attached to Meredith he'd lost his sexual footing. He needed a way to gain back some control without upsetting Meredith too much. The last thing he needed was engines seeing him as unstable and weak. That was when he yet again spotted Dirk. He was just beneath Scotsman gathering tools with his flatbed. His curvy boiler and cab plating was a pleasure to look at and Scotsman's eyes couldn't pull away from the complex coupling system holding his drivers together. The big engine licked his lips.

"What're you suddenly so feral about?" Kestrel inquired with a curious raise of his brow.

Flying Scotsman kept quiet. He simply watched the little tank engine dart around the different repair wards and wondered if he would be just as spry pinned down in a berth. Of course, he wouldn't have to wonder for long…

Just as soon as Flying Scotsman was released from his cleaning he approached the little engine slowly. He had never really interacted with him, merely admired him from afar, but the ache in his panel returned and with Meredith not ready to resume their regular romping, Scotsman knew he had to relieve himself elsewhere. The big engine cleared his throat, startling the little guy. "Oh! Goodness, you gave me a fright! What do you need? Did the workers miss a spot?"

"Nope," Flying Scotsman turned his charm all the way up with a libidinous smirk as he approached Dirk. "But there is something I need."

"Parts? A repaint perhaps- uhh, not saying you need one of course. Heh." Dirk's cheeks were hot. He knew all about the big A3's habits and as he loomed ever closer he could feel his steam building up to excessive levels and given that he had seen just what Flying Scotsman had hidden beneath those smoldering eyes, he was rightfully intimidated. After all, he is a very small engine.

Flying Scotsman was right on the little engine at that point. He could smell Dirk's arousal which only furthered Scotsman's own. He nuzzled the little engine's cheek then laid on a quick kiss on his lips. Dirk swooned. Scotsman purred. "Let's go somewhere a little more private."

Dirk was quick to lead Flying Scotsman to a shed just barely big enough for the two located behind the Steamworks. He backed in and before he was able to catch his bearings, Scotsman's lips found his once more. This time the kiss was starved. Their mouths were locked in an embrace that lacked any sort of romantic intent. Scotsman was there for only one thing and Dirk knew, but he didn't care. The two lost themselves in the messy, moan-filled embrace. Scotsman tasted as good as he looked and Dirk could tangle his tongue with the big engine's all day, but he was quickly reminded of the express engine's true intentions when he felt himself being lifted up by the buffers. Dirk couldn't stop the breathless laugh that escaped as he felt Scotsman slide in between his axles. He was easily the biggest engine Dirk had ever been with, in every sense of the word. He found himself greatly envying Meredith once the thrusting started and the makeout continued with greater intensity. She got this every day? That lucky little whore. The little engine couldn't hold in his vocals anymore, with every breath he moaned and sighed. He savored every second because who knew when this would happen again.

Mid-afternoon in the goods yard was surprisingly comfortable. Meredith had returned from a run to Cambridge and was refueling. She still glanced around warily as diesels huffed by her. She didn't trust Mallard to continue to leave her alone as he had been and refused to let her guard down. She had finally lost the persistent numbness in her undercarriage and hoped maybe soon she would be up for an inaugural fuck with Flying Scotsman. She missed his closeness, but didn't want to rush herself though she knew her… partner(?) was growing restless. She hoped she wasn't driving him into the berth of another. With Gordon she never had to worry, but Flying Scotsman was insatiable so there was a greater risk of him cavorting with others. Not that she cared. They weren't even in a relationship… right?

"Lookin' a little haggard there, Meredith. Everything alright?" Kestrel had just rolled into the yard with another silver A4 at his side. Spencer?

"Yeah I was just thinking about your scumbag brother." Meredith spit. She still couldn't understand why Spencer was there. He was typically on Sodor during the summer months. And since when did Spencer have a number?

Kestrel chuckled. "You're such a spicy little titter, Meredith. Does that attitude translate well in the berth? It certainly must given your grip on my whorish cousin."

"Too bad you'll never know." Meredith retorted with a slight prance as she departed from the water tower.

"Never say never, my dear." Kestrel hummed as he and his silver brother followed the little engine. Then he remembered. "Oh, where are my manners, Meredith, this is Quicksilver. Quicksilver meet Meredith."

Meredith stopped, looking the silver A4 over. "Wait, you're not… Spencer?"

"Hardly," Quicksilver said with a roll of his eyes. He was Spencer's mirror image, but his voice was low and lacked Spencer's usual sing-songy ring. "He's my twin but fortunately for me, the only thing we share is our appearance."

"Oh," Meredith pondered for a moment then frowned. "How many of you streamlined A4's are there?"

"Just us, at least for this part of the Railway." Quicksilver said with a glance to Kestrel. "Dr. Hart favors our shape as do the passengers."

"Don't forget most ladies do fancy a curvaceous boiler." Kestrel chortled with a playful tap of his brother's driving cylinder.

Quicksilver rolled his eyes yet again. His desire for physical affections was even less than his green counterpart's. He was perfectly content keeping his berth empty and without the noise of another. Meredith quickly took note of the new engine's indifference as did Kestrel who gave his brother another bump. "Don't tell me this lovely creature before us doesn't get your gears grinding?"

The aforementioned gave Meredith a brief once-over. She was a very handsome specimen indeed and he may consider her should she ask, but he's not one to pursue and he'd prefer to avoid any canoodling all together. He then shrugged. "No offense, Meredith, you are quite beautiful but I'm rather solitary and prefer my space."

"And that's fine with me." Meredith breathed a sigh of relief. Finally a big engine with some decency. "Maybe you should give some pointers to Mallard."

Quicksilver sneered, he then found himself cruising steadily at Meredith's side. "That blue Neanderthal couldn't be learned a damn thing should I even want to try, though I have." Meredith liked how he talked. He spoke as a well-rounded scholar. It reminded her a lot of Gordon. Imperious but in the most endearing way. "I hope he hasn't given you too hard of a time."

Meredith chewed the inside of her cheek. Kestrel had joined them at her open side. He watched her intently. "Not anymore." Is all she said.

Quicksilver narrowed his gaze then glanced to Kestrel who merely shook his boiler. The former then understood and decided it was best to drop the conversation. Meredith had picked up some speed. She had work to do and she felt uncomfortable being sandwiched between the two A4 even if one was well-intentioned and the other possessed a minimal sense of restraint. "Well, gentlemen, if you don't mind; I have a journey to York to make."

"York! How convenient, that's where I'm to make my next express run. Shall we go together? I'm always in search of more civilized company." Quicksilver said with a snarky side-eye to a deflated Kestrel. He was due to Manchester which went the complete opposite direction.

Meredith halted then reversed up to her train of apparel. She wasn't against the idea of having someone to talk to and she did like Quicksilver. "Sure!" She was coupled to the train and started back up again with an excited hiss of steam. "Meet you at the station?"

"It's a date." The silver engine said with yet another glance to his now fuming brother. Meredith was quickly out of earshot and the A4 smirked at Kestrel. "Are you taking notes?"

The journey to York with Quicksilver was beyond pleasant. The two joked and mingled like old friends. Meredith felt she was in some parallel universe because even though the engine sounded nothing like Spencer, his appearance and even his body language was hauntingly similar. Funny how siblings work like that.

The two arrived at the station right on time despite Quicksilver having to greatly reduce his speed in order for Meredith to be able to keep pace. Meredith delivered her cars while Quicksilver delivered his passengers. That was when Flying Scotsman rolled up. He glanced between the two engines as they both giggled stupidly. They had yet to notice the favored LNER express had pulled in. Scotsman furrowed his brow then coughed, silencing the two fast-friends' chortling. "What's got you two so giddy?" He did his best to hide his annoyance, but for some reason his face would not cooperate. He looked proper pissed.

"Oh we were just sharing our drivers' ultimate screw-ups." Quicksilver chuckled. Scotsman's displeasure was not lost on him either. "Meredith here was just telling me about how her driver once wedged himself between her axles. Beautifully nimble humans are."

Meredith giggled. "Yes, and a little silly." There was a swift kick to her firebox, but it only made her laugh harder. "Relax, Hayden, we're only teasing." There was an irritated huff from her cab but no right words of dissent. Meredith giggled again and she looked back to Scotsman. He was mad and she loved when the big engine was mad. It made her boiler bubble with arousal. "Hey, Scot."

"Hmph."

"This was my last delivery for the day." Meredith said with a playful bat of her eyes. Quicksilver glanced between the two engines and sighed. He understood that he was just banished to the sidelines. Pity. He enjoyed Meredith's presence.

"I'll leave you two be. We'll have to do this again, Meredith." He said with a final departing whistle. Meredith gave a half-hearted peep of acknowledgment as her and Flying Scotsman continued their sensual stare down.

Scotsman's guard had waved the big express engine on and as he pulled away from the station he gave his little lover a naughty grin. "I expect to see you in my shed as soon as I get back, little Meredith."

As expected, Meredith waited patiently at Scotsman's shed. The sun had already disappeared behind the trees and very little light was left to leak in through the cracks in the walls. Soon after more tense silence she heard him approach. The door swung open and she saw his salacious grin as he inched towards her. "I think someone needs a little reminder of who she belongs to." Meredith shivered in hot anticipation as their lips brushed ever so gently. Scotsman let out a slow breath. "Now tell me; are you mine?"

"I am." Meredith sighed, she tried to kiss him but he pulled back and sat just out of her reach. "I'm yours." She repeated with great conviction. Her undercarriage was radiating and screaming for him. "Please."

"Please what?" Scotsman purred as he dragged his mouth over the edge of her chin. He was dying to fuck her, but he loved the way she squirmed and begged.

"Take me." She breathed. He had begun to lift her at this point. "Please…"

The big engine let out a throaty chuckle then finally gave into her wishes. He overtook her mouth with his and pushed her into the buffer stops with a hefty groan. He loved his Meredith but he loved her ever more intensely when she was at his mercy in his shed.

And I'm back! Sorry about the bit of a break, I've been a little under the weather. *sigh* I still am but I knew I needed to get something out so this chapter is nothing but self-indulgence on my part. It helps distract from the sickness. *sobs*

Anywho! Thanks for the continued support and all the love! I'll see y'all in the next installment!

Much love;

Bumble

P.S. Dirk is a DRG (Deutsche Reichsbahn) Class 80 tank engine if you need to look up a reference for him. Such a cute little engine I have to say. His basis was used strictly for shunting so he's a small boy -smaller than Thomas's basis I believe, I could be wrong.

S is for the simple need; E is for the ecstasy; X is just to mark the spot; Cause that's the one you really want