Flying Scotsman was preparing to depart the London terminal with his express when Gordon came to a stop at the platform beside him. "Morning, Gordon." He said with genuine enthusiasm. He gave his brother a quick once-over, he was covered in wintery condensation from the blizzard outside which served to obscure a few new adornments, but only temporarily. The heat from the station quickly melted the ice and snow and Scotsman noticed Gordon's new number painted along his cab. 1470. As well, the iconic golden '4' on his tender was replaced with 'LNER'. But the most interesting detail of all was the arched nameplate over his mid-driving wheels. It read 'Great Northern' in bold yellow. Impossible to miss. "You've been renamed?"
"So it seems." Gordon grumbled. He didn't mind so much his new number and the lettering on his tender, but his new designation was not well received by the former A1 locomotive. He quite liked his name.
"Well I'll still be calling you Gordon if it's all the same with you." Scotsman said with a soft smile. "Or little brother."
Gordon rolled his eyes, but he couldn't hold back his own grin. "Thank you."
"So… how are you liking it here so far?"
"It's alright. It's strange being around so many engines my size." Gordon sighed. He did his best to ignore Meredith's sweet scent wafting from his brother. He had to keep reminding himself she was no longer his partner. It was a difficult reality for him to accept considering now it was his younger brother who had a firm grasp on her. He wanted her back desperately, but she would have to come back of her own accord. He would not be forcing anything.
Flying Scotsman studied his brother's flat expression. "Should I wash myself?" Gordon furrowed his brow. "Meredith. You can smell her on me?" Gordon gave a single nod. "I'm sorry… we… uh— this morning—"
"I really don't need to know." Gordon did his best to keep his tone level, but every fiber of his being wanted to lash out. "I hope you're at least letting her sleep."
"Of course I am." Scotsman huffed. "I'm no animal."
"So you say."
The green A3 laughed. For a moment it felt like old times. There was no rivalry, no crazy love-triangles, no near-death brawls, just the two of them acting as most brothers would. However, he knew that things could never go back completely normal. There would always be that air of uncertainty between them as well as a level of untrust. Scotsman loved his brother, but he was at a point in his life and relationship with Meredith he would snap anyone who tried to get in his way. Even Gordon.
Some time had passed and the sun was completely covered by freezing clouds. Meredith was slipping and sliding all through the shunting yard as she did her best to keep up with her duties in the snowstorm. Her firebox was hot and her boiler was at temp, but she was still shivering cold. Her scar stung as her face was battered by the wind. A strong gust caused her to roll backwards. She bashed into a line of cars, derailing a couple of them. "Shit," she hissed. Her eyes were narrowed, the high winds did everything they could to force them shut, but she managed to keep them open enough to see. Though all she could see was a whole lot of dark, white nothingness. She couldn't even spot the brightly painted diesel shunters that worked alongside her. She found herself becoming disoriented as the storm picked up pace. Ice had begun to form along her footboards and it took more and more effort to turn her wheels. Alex was suddenly struggling to keep her firebox at a proper temp and just as she had passed through the gates to the yard another gale force wind blew her fire completely out. "Fuck…" Alex snapped and he tossed his shovel to the floor. The temperature in her cab had already dropped to below freezing and her crew huddled up together. It was too messy out for either of them to try and find help as the goods yard was on the outskirts of London. They would just have to hope another engine came along and quickly.
Meredith tried to move further, but she had already lost all boiler pressure and was stuck in place. The wind rattled her rivets, it made her eyes water and teeth chatter. She had never experienced a cold like that before and with the day beginning it's descent into the evening, what little light there was began to fade fast. Then there was a whistle, it's pitch was nearly carried off by the wind, but Meredith heard enough to know who it was. "Quicksilver!" She called. "Q! Over here!" She saw his lantern draw nearer and soon his face came into view through the wall of white.
"Meredith, what happened? Are you stuck?" He said.
Meredith nodded. "The wind blew out my firebox!" The loud bellowing of the blizzard forced the two to yell at each other. "Can you help me to shelter please?"
"Of course!" The silver A4 coupled up to her from the front and began to push her down the tracks. His experience meant he knew all the points and tracks by heart so he was able to simply feel for whatever direction he needed to go. He also taught himself a little trick years ago that made him capable of changing the points with his own wheels. A very clever engine indeed. He was able to bring Meredith all the way to Flying Scotsman's shed as if the blizzard weren't even an issue. He shunted her inside where her crew jumped to the shed's small space heater to defrost. They weren't out long, but their hair was frozen and their noses and cheeks looked burnt.
"Thank you!" Meredith cooed as Quicksilver detached himself from her.
"Of course, my dear." He said with a humble smile. "You keep warm now, okay?"
"Okay." Meredith bit her lip and watched as the stately engine reversed out of the shed to once again brave the winter storm. She wanted him to stay. She felt drawn to his enigmatic nature. But she understood he was not lustful in any sense so she kept silent.
Meredith had dozed off shortly after she arrived at the shed and when she awoke, Flying Scotsman had returned and he was just starting to settle in to sleep himself when he noticed a pair of big, sweet eyes watching him. "Well hello there, baby girl, I didn't mean to wake you."
"I don't mind." Meredith purred. She then reached up and gave his lips a gentle peck. Scotsman's boiler bubbled and he didn't let her move too far before he pushed to her in a deeper kiss, quickly turning so their mouths could interlock. Meredith became giddy and giggly as he chased her tongue with his, she backed away and into the buffers. Scotsman chuckled and inched closer to her.
"Where do you think you're going, little Meredith?" His voice was playful and seductive. He loved foreplay almost as much as the actual deed and when Meredith teased like that it made the big engine ravenous. His mouth found hers once more but she continued to toy with him by keeping the kisses fleeting or merely nibbling on his bottom lip. Scot let out a frustrated growl. "Ohhh, you little-" He couldn't hold back anymore, with one swift motion he reared Meredith up enough for him to slip in. She gasped from the sudden connection but before he was able to find a rhythm she panicked.
"My crew are still in here!" She whispered, using her eyes to point to them asleep in the corner.
Scotsman followed her gaze to the dozing humans and grumbled in frustration. "So what do you suggest we do?"
Meredith pondered but only briefly, he was still well inside her and she wanted to get on with it. "Just be quiet." She said.
"You? Quiet? I don't think so." Scotsman teased with a mischievous smirk.
"Speak for yourself." Meredith murmured, she bit at his lip again. "I thought you were going to wake all of London last night."
Scotsman laughed as he kissed her, he started moving again. "I thought you liked my loudness."
"Mmm, I love it." Meredith has had many partners and Scotsman was the only one who had no reservations regarding being noisy. It was not uncommon for him to even cry out her name at the height of his finish. She felt powerful. Like she owned him and not the other way around. He may have had his fun in the past, but Meredith was determined to keep him so satiated he wouldn't think twice of running around on her. It wouldn't be difficult. She knew exactly how to make him buckle. They had started back up slowly and carefully, but Meredith didn't like it slow. She kissed Scot's face then whispered; "You better pick up the pace, big boy, I said to be quiet, not slow."
An electric wave of energy shocked ripped through Scotsman. He quickly picked up the rhythm to his usual roughness, but he could feel himself wanting to moan so he held Meredith in an insatiable kiss so he could let a few little sounds slip.
After their tiff over Scot's lewdness the two came to a bit of a… compromise. They would both strive for loyalty to each other, but if slip-ups happened it wouldn't result in the other being tossed to the curb. It seemed to have worked for him, the day Meredith caught Scotsman with the little tender engine was the last he had anyone other than Meredith. Though Meredith was not an innocent victim; despite having made up with Scot she felt spiteful and finally caved to Kestrel's advances. Naturally the dominant engine did not take the news well and made sure to remind his cousin of his place. Meredith, however, suffered from a cold shoulder that lasted only as long as Scot was able to resist her pouting. It goes without saying he didn't hold out for long.
Their not-so-quiet encounter carried on through to the morning when they were forced apart by Meredith's exhausted and disgruntled crew. Turns out neither engine were very good at keeping things subtle and the heat of their excess steam made the shed an unbearable sauna. The two humans were disgustingly sweaty and hours into their suffering they began to wish they had braved the snow with Ian and Gavin. They only kept quiet because they weren't about to break the pair apart while in the thick of it.
Meanwhile, on the other side of London nearer the terminal, Quicksilver and Kestrel were preparing for the day with their newest shed mate, Gordon. It was his first morning with the two A4's, the blizzard had died off in the night, the ground was heavy with fresh snow, but the sky was clear and bright. Kestrel woke the other two with his bellyaching over the weather and his wheels being gummed up by salt and dirt. Quicksilver and Gordon tried to ignore him, but the bastard was insistent they give him their undivided attention. Kenneth was checking Gordon's snow plow was secure when Quicksilver decided it was time to address his new bunkmate. "See much snow on that little island of yours?"
"Indeed, though I have to say, I've never experienced a blizzard quite like that." Gordon gave his body a shake, releasing the icicles that hung from his smoke shields and footplates. "My drivers locked up several times on my journeys."
"You'll get used to it." Kestrel added from his end of the shed. He took in the new engine's appearance and became curious. "Say— I thought you were an A1?"
"I was, I was rebuilt some time ago."
"Doncaster or was it freelanced?" Quicksilver inquired. He too was curious of Gordon's build, though he never would ask an engine to give the details of their mechanics. But Kestrel's unrestrained prodding provided him a more polite opening.
"Doncaster." The character in question replied. "My former controller had engineers brought in to ensure the job was done proper."
"I'd say it was." Kestrel pipped. "You look quite dapper. That color is a very handsome choice. Good judgement on Dr. Hart's part to leave you painted as such. Of course I'm partial to the BR green myself— though I think that livery suits you well."
Quicksilver nodded in agreement. "It's a shame he redesignated you, however. Would you like to be referred to by your new moniker or do you prefer Gordon still?"
"Gordon." The older engine was pleasantly surprised by his new company. They seemed civilized despite being the siblings of his foolish, lustful cousin. Kestrel was clearly a little less mature than Spencer's twin, but it was nothing too damning. He was tolerably childish.
The three express engines arrived at Kings Cross and settled into their platforms. Meredith had already shunted all their coaches into place and was bringing in Flying Scotsman's when she spotted them. "Morning, boys!"
They all offered up their own greetings and Gordon gave a warm smile to the little engine. Meredith returned it promptly. She was excited to work with him again, though she did continue to feel guilt for sticking with Scotsman instead of returning to Gordon. She did still love him, but it didn't feel the same as before. As if the fire she felt for him had died out. It was heartbreaking for her to acknowledge, but seeing him in that moment forced her to realize it.
"Excuse me, love." Scotsman's voice forced Meredith back to reality and she swiftly moved to a siding as she watched the green A3 reverse up to his coaches. He noticed her far-off stare. "Are you alright?"
Meredith quickly shook herself off. "Yeah…yeah— I'm fine. I'll see you all later." Then the little engine returned to the yard without another word to any of the engines. Quicksilver raised his brow at Scot but the green A3 simply shook his boiler. He would talk to Meredith later. He only hoped Gordon's new position there wouldn't cause her any emotional turmoil. He gave his older sibling a sideways glance and Gordon sat still as if he didn't know Scotsman was watching him.
So Gordon's new nickname is a homage to the first LNER Class A1 built called Great Northern. Since Gordon was supposed to be a "prototype" I figured it would be a nice nod to the actual engine he was loosely based off. Of course he's still Gordon to everyone but his new mainland passengers.
Pretty Katydid; well my hat's off to ya for doing that kind of work with no complaints! I just hope you're making sure to balance all that coffee with proper food. I know when I drink too much coffee without drinking I become very miserable very quickly. Lmao.
I see you've somewhat predicted my newest kink in the chain and yes, there's for sure going to be some major banter between the boys, though I don't know if there will be another battle between them. I think they've had their fun. It's time to work together even if it's begrudgingly. Lol.
I feel I need to reassure that I don't intend (key word here-- I try not to speak in absolutes) to do anything with the baby engine bit. More or less it was just another tidbit of info on my AU that you know but will never experience aside from a passing mention. However, when I write I kinda just tell myself I'm literally writing about sentient steam engines fucking so why would I concern myself with realism and logic? HAH. The only thing I hold firm with as far as realism is that my engines are limited by the scope of the materials of which they're built with. No squishing, bending, or stretching outside of what would make sense. This isn't 'All Engines Go!', alright? They're made of metal, not rubber. (That mushy animation style is the bane of my existence. I hate it.)
Well I rambled about that a little longer than intended. Oh well. I'm not trying to weird my readers out or anything, just sticking to watch interests me and hopefully keeps y'all reading! I've got some plans for the bitch-head engines (Ellis, the B17 twins, and Mallard; I gotta come up with a better nickname for them) which includes some ugly confrontations. So hopefully y'all stick around!
Anyhow, it's time to scrape together some din-din. The ice here has mostly thawed so hopefully I'll be able to make it to the store tomorrow because my pantry is lookin' SAD. Yikes. I look forward to more sort of one-sided convos with all you lovely individuals!
Much love;
Bumble