After a few days of wintery bliss, the snow had cleared leaving the inhabitants of LNER to go about their work without the added burden of plowing through powder. One particularly sunny day, Ellis was hauling a long, heavy goods train to Manchester. She was thankful to have her plow off for good. It got in the way and added unpleasant tension to her fenders. When she arrived at the station she found Mallard snoozing loudly while he waited for his next train. He had attracted a small crowd of tourists. They were always excited to see the railways endless roster of famous express engines. Even if all they did in their spare time was sleep.

Ellis eyed the handsome streamlined engine hungrily. She did have some spare time before she had to be at Doncaster to pick up a delivery for Brighton. She slid over to Mallard and earned herself a few admiring glances. All black engines were rather rare on the railway and she was a stunning specimen. Like Meredith, Ellis had no trouble garnering the attentions of both humans and engines and she relished in it shamelessly. She gave Mallard's cylinders a tap with one of her pilot wheels. He grumbled but didn't open his eyes. "What?"

"Are you busy?" Ellis kept herself casual; there were too many people around for hot verbal foreplay.

His eyes opened to narrow slits. "Depends on what you want." The sleek K1 merely smiled and bat her eyes. Mallard raised his brow and opened his eyes completely. He understood. "No, I'm not busy."

Mallard was a right prick and Ellis didn't exactly like him, but she did enjoy his feral love-making. Of course she had to be rough herself in order to get the selfish brute to do what she wanted, but it's what made the whole experience so appealing. He didn't care whether he got his partners off or not. So long as his own needs were met that's what mattered to him. When the two hooked up there was nothing romantic about it. There was banging and swearing and insults and a lot of impassioned sighing and groaning. Luckily the shed was far enough from the platform that the waiting passengers couldn't hear much of the noise. If they did catch a sound or two they assumed it was the typical clatter of the railway and nothing more. Afterall, most people weren't aware of the full scope of what a locomotive was capable of. During that time Flying Scotsman thundered by the station and caught a glimpse of Mallard's coaches. As he continued a perfect breeze alerted him of the current romp going on nearby. He scrunched his nose in disgust. "Goddamned pig." He growled to himself while he continued on north towards Edinburgh. He wasn't close enough for the intertwined engines to hear his swears, but they were aware he passed by as they both stopped moving and held their breath.

"Do you think he heard us?" Ellis whispered. The steam around her had begun to settle, but her face was still pink with warmth.

"Doesn't matter if he heard us," Mallard said. "The bastard has a keen sense of smell. Better than most. He likely caught our scent."

"Should I be worried?"

"Last I checked you weren't a tank engine named Meredith. He doesn't care if I fuck you." Mallard grinned while Ellis scowled.

"You're such a tosser." She said

"And somehow I can't seem to keep you off my cock, you slag." Mallard hummed. Ellis felt as if her safety valve might burst.

"I'm no slag!" She hissed. "And you've no right to talk to me like tha-" Mallard was quick to cut her off with a sloppy kiss and while she still was cross about his language she just couldn't resist his pull. She still wished it was Scotsman pinning her down, but Mallard was certainly a solid second choice.

When the pair completed their little rendezvous they parted ways as if they had never even seen each other. Ellis continued her goods deliveries and Mallard pulled his coaches. The latter had just arrived at Nottingham where he found Gordon with his own shiny new coaches. The blue A4 had not yet met the Sudrian engine and was surprisingly delighted to see him. He knew of the tension between Gordon and Flying Scotsman and figured perhaps they could bond over their mutual hate of the smarmy A3. Mallard puffed himself up as he slowed to a stop beside Gordon then cleared his throat. "Ahem, hello there, you must be the new engine. Gordon, was it?"

"Yes," Gordon said with a skeptical raise of his brow. He gave Mallard a quick once-over. "Another one of Spencer's siblings I take it?"

"Unfortunately," Mallard's snobby grin dropped. "I'm called Mallard. Perhaps you've heard of me? Through your brother?"

"Sorry to say I haven't." Gordon said. Though his tone was flat he wasn't trying to be rude. "My brother doesn't speak much of the engines he works with."

"I see." Mallard was slightly disappointed, but he also felt relief. If Scotsman never spoke of him, it's likely the new engine would be more receptive to him. "Forgive me by saying so, but you're too fine an engine to have worked on such a little railway for so long. You'll serve much better here."

Gordon didn't smile, but his demeanor softened. He appreciated the sentiment, but Sodor was his home and small or not it would always be important to him. "That's very kind of you to say." He paused a moment when he noticed Mallard's front left buffer was bent. "Did you get into a crash? Your buffers are damaged."

"Oh— uhh… no, not exactly." Mallard chortled. "Things just got a little rough in the shed. Why, I'm sure you know all about that; an engine as becoming as you."

Gordon forced a laugh. "Yes, well, it's been a while, I'll admit."

"Right, right, you were Meredith's old flame." Mallard gave Gordon's footplate a friendly bump. "I hope you're not still hung up on her. Sure she's a right beauty, but Scot's got a deadly hold on her. Learned that one the hard way. Still— I got a few good bumps in. A proper tiger that little engine. I—"

"Can we stop talking about Meredith please?" Gordon snapped. "I know you're just trying to be friendly but I'm really not the gossiping type."

"Sure, okay." Mallard rocked awkwardly on his wheels. "I'm sorry, I'll admit I can get ahead of myself."

"It's alright." Gordon sighed, he really wasn't interested in hearing about all the engines that slept with Meredith. It made him jealous. He wanted her so badly. "I just miss her."

"Yeah…" Mallard couldn't help but feel some sympathy for Gordon. He must have really had feelings for that little engine to be so bent out of shape talking about her. Though he also thought Gordon to be rather foolish. Engines didn't need relationships. It just added too much baggage. Keeping things purely physical was easier. No attachment necessary.

Gordon watched the traffic along the road beside the track. All the vehicles moved smoothly over the pavement. Some had just a driver, others were packed full with families or a group of friends headed to lunch. They all rushed by without a care in the world. The sun was out, the air was clean, dry, and cool— there was very little noise outside of the occasional car horn or calling steam whistle miles away. It was the perfect day to be out and about and people certainly were. Gordon found that while he sat at the platform, many passengers stopped to admire him. Some even took pictures. He wasn't used to that sort of attention, but the mainland was home to many fans of rail and they marveled at the first A1 ever built even if he was overhauled into an A3. The spirit remained. Gordon couldn't help but smile.

"Like I said," Mallard spoke up after watching his cousin's reception. Gordon glanced over at him. Mallard too was smiling, but his carried darker undertones. "You belong here."

"Hayden, where exactly are you taking me?" Alex trudged along behind his friend as they shoved their way through thick brambles and bushes. They were a good few miles outside Hatfield and were following an overgrown branch line. The rails were rusted and the sleepers were rotten and crumbling. Hayden trekked forward as if he didn't even hear Alex complaining behind him. In his hands he held a piece of parchment that would lead them to their destination and he was much too excited for chatter. Alex sighed after a branch gave his face a good flick. They were both dressed casual but certainly not proper for a hike through the woods. Both wore slacks and boots. Alex's white button-up was dirty but lucky for Hayden he was smart enough to wear darker colors. They disguised the dirt better. Somewhat. Alex was a little cross at how they were spending their free time. Meredith was at the Steamworks having her boiler flushed and cleaned out after taking on muddy water and he would have much rather spent the time they had indoors. But Hayden is persistent and doesn't know how to take 'no' for an answer.

Finally they came to a clearing, still surrounded by forest, there was a small abandoned station. The windows were boarded and the steps over the track were rusted and falling out. The bushes that sat at the entrance had taken over the steps and there was substantial water damage to the roofing. Hayden was glowing. "It's perfect!"

"You and I have completely different definitions of perfect." Alex crossed his arms as he watched Hayden frolick towards the dilapidated structure. "So… why did you bring me to see this…?"

"It's our new home!"

Alex had begun to follow Hayden, but he stopped mid-step. "Our?"

"Yes! I've purchased it from Dr. Hart. We're going to rebuild this into the perfect engine-friendly home! I mean… look at all this track! Meredith would be able to visit us right at home!" Alex was speechless. He wasn't sure what shocked him more. The fact Hayden spent real money for scrap or that he wants them to live together and rebuild said scrap. Hayden trotted back over to Alex, clapping his hands on his friend's shoulders. "I see that you're worried, but you gotta trust me on this."

"I haven't even said if I want to move in with you." Alex said, keeping his expression flat.

"Well?"

A sigh. Alex glanced around. It would give him something to do in his off time. He was rather tired of sitting around rereading the same old books. "Fine, fine. Besides, I doubt you can afford all the renovations on your own."

Hayden threw his arms up and whooped in excitement. He then grabbed Alex's hand and pulled him to the station. "So I was thinking of a more open concept." They stopped in the breezeway. "Of course we need to close this in but if we take out the walls to the ticket booth that could serve as the kitchen and sitting room. The office is huge!" He pulled out a set of keys and unlocked the door to the stationmaster's quarters. It opened with a creak to a dusty, plant-infested office. "There's a bedroom in the back." Hayden stepped inside, climbing over the furniture stacked by the door. "I didn't know they had bedrooms."

"Well it depends on if the station had to be manned twenty-four hours." Alex said. He stepped to the desk, picking up a faded photograph. It was of Flying Scotsman. He looked different. Younger and without his smoke shields. He lacked the aura of self-importance that he presently boasts. His smile was humble as he looked through the camera lens. It must've been around the time he was first built. He didn't even have his second tender or a number.

"What's that?" Hayden had just come from inspecting the sleeping quarters when he saw Alex studying the photo.

"Oh— it's Scot." Alex handed his friend the photograph.

Hayden took it carefully. The material was one wrong move away from cracking. "Wow. He looks so different."

"He looks less like an asshole."

"Well… fame changes a person— or in this case, an engine." Hayden flipped the photo over then furrowed his brow. On the back there was writing. It read 'Gavin — 1923'. "His name is… Gavin?"

Alex took the photo back and laughed. "I think I prefer Scot."

"Me too." Hayden set his paperwork on the desk and watched Alex saunter to the bedroom. He followed him then propped himself against the doorframe. He watched Alex run his hand over the dusty mattress, he then pushed down on it and it let out a horrid squeak from the rusted springs. "Will definitely need to replace that." Alex let out a small laugh. He gave the old metal frame a solid shake. It creaked and squeaked but held firm. Hayden was hit by a sudden wave of nerves, his stomach fluttered. "What— uhh… what're you thinking about?"

"Oh, just wondering if it'll hold."

"Hold? Hold what?" Hayden blinked. Alex raised his brow and smiled. "Oh."

The sky was painted in shades of violet and amber. Engines and people alike were beginning to wind down for the day including Gordon. He had just settled into his birth when Quicksilver and Kestrel arrived. Kestrel, as usual, was chatting away. "Gordon!" The blue A4 called as he reversed into his berth. "How was your day?"

"It was alright. I met your other brother, Mallard I believe." Kenneth had begun to tinker with Gordon's pilot axles and the big engine started. He wasn't expecting to feel his driver poking around.

"Ugh, that no good waste of iron." Kestrel spat. "I suggest doing your best to keep away from that one. He's vile."

"He seemed decent enough to me." Gordon was puzzled. He thought Mallard was alright. Even gentlemanly despite his clear lustful nature.

Quicksilver shook his boiler. "He's good at talking an engine up, but trust us when we say you're better off distancing yourself from him."

Gordon considered the engines' concerns. It didn't seem like mere petty sibling rivalry. They were both steely in their comments about their brother. Eventually he nodded. "Very well."

The streamlined brothers both smiled. They were happy it seemed Gordon had some sense. Then Kestrel pipped up. "So see any engines that may scratch that itch if yours?"

"What itch?" Gordon grumbled. He didn't like Kestrel's troublesome smirk.

"You know exactly what I mean. C'mon, mate. It's not good to carry such tension on your wheels. You'll snap an axle riding around like that."

"I don't know what you're talking about." Gordon stuck his nose in the air. "I'm perfectly relaxed, thank you."

"You're also a terrible liar." Kestrel continued with a laugh. "We know you're hung up on Meredith, but she's Scot's now. Might as well find someone else to relieve yourself with."

Before Gordon could offer a rebuff another set of pistons puffed up to the shed. It was Spencer. He heard Gordon had moved in and needed to see it for himself. "Well as I live and breathe, if it isn't the old slow coach himself."

"Hello, Spencer." Gordon huffed. "What do you want?"

"Just thought I'd stop by— say hello. I heard mention of Meredith. Are we all sharing in stories of the little engine? I heard Kestrel here managed himself a lay with her finally." Spencer shot his green counterpart a sideways glance and the aforementioned engine scowled in response. "All that's left now is Sir Stick In The Mud."

"Spencer, you are repugnant. Gordon has no interest in discussing the affairs of his former lover and we should respect that." Gordon passed Quicksilver a thankful smile and Spencer's twin returned it.

"Whatever," Spencer sneered. "Doesn't matter anyway, Scot's gonna hog her until he gets bored with her."

"I'm not so sure he will." Quicksilver said. "I've never seen him so smitten."

The three brothers continued to argue and debate over how likely Flying Scotsman was to remain with Meredith. Gordon tuned them all out. He didn't want to hear what they had to say about his own brother or Meredith. In that moment all he wanted to do was fade away with the day's sun and disappear into the night sky. He began to seriously question whether his relocation was the best choice.

Man I don't have much to say this installment. I've been feeling on and off like crap. My case of COVID was very mild but it still took a lot out of me. *sigh*

Pretty Katydid; well I'm glad I continue to stump you! It's pretty encouraging to hear that I leave y'all confused. Lol. I just hope it's nothing too bad.

Regarding Gordon's appearance; he's the exact same, same dark blue, all that. Only thing that's changed is his number and the new nickname. And yes he's still got his blinkers like Scotsman. I have this silly idea that anytime Scot grows tired of a conversation he just slides them forward to remove himself from it. Lmao. Just seems like something he'd do especially with Kestrel or Spencer. In my mind Gordon leaves his locked forward unless he's with someone he likes talking to, otherwise the other engine is just forced to look around them. Idk why but I feel like what helps make Scotsman so handsome are those smoke shields. Like his face is attractive too, but they just round out the whole look in my opinion. I also find it funny that Scot looks and even acts like he's older than Gordon. Like when I found out he was younger I was shook. Lol.

Well, that's enough from me. I'll see you wonderful people next time!

Much love;

Bumble