Spring had finally arrived. The island was alight with fresh flowers, green trees, and new life. Not a cloud could be found as the sun climbed higher in the sky. It was late afternoon on that brisk, warm day; Emerson was pulling into the yard at Knapford to refuel and rest. Though he simply couldn't relax. His head was swimming with flashbacks of that night on the mainland. How that silver streamlined engine derailed him and nearly killed his crew. He grumbled low in his boiler. That two-faced snake. He thought. As Emerson wasn't aware Spencer had an identical twin and that it was he who assaulted him; he could only assume it was the prissy private engine himself who intervened. He thought it so strange, he thought Spencer liked him. "Bastard." He grumbled aloud.

"What was that?" Rebecca had just stopped behind him at the water tower.

"Nothing." Emerson said though with not much confidence. "Just talking to myself."

"Oh… are you alright?"

Emerson scowled. He wanted to be left alone. "Yes, I'm fine, Rebecca, thank you." His tone was sharp and quick. The maroon Pacific had practically no remaining patience.

Rebecca took the hint and kept quiet until Emerson pulled away. He wound his way through the yard while Percy and Philip shunted around him. He located an open siding and settled himself for a nap. Normally the noise of the yard was easily tuned out for Emerson, but that afternoon the chattering, rattling, and puffing was too much. It rang through his head until he couldn't take it anymore. He lurched from the siding in a frustrated cloud of smoke and back to his platform in the station. There was no way he could relax with all the inward and outward noise.

As Emerson begrudgingly took his place on the platform, Sonny rolled up. He looked the discontented express engine over with slight apprehension. "Everything alright there, bruv?"

Emerson let out a slow, exhausted sigh. "No, it's not."

"Well maybe I could help sort whatever it is." Sonny struggled to not sound too perky. It was the first time Emerson properly acknowledged his existence.

Another heavy breath out. Emerson's face was scrunched in annoyance and his pressure was building. "I seriously doubt that."

"Oh," Sonny looked away deflated. He stared blankly at James who had just screeched into the station with his coaches. Then he glanced back at Emerson, he was still glaring at the tracks ahead. Sonny just couldn't let it go. "Come on, Emerson." He pressed. "It can't be nothing. You're putting off enough steam to run two of you."

"I said it's nothing!" Emerson snapped, silencing the whole station. Emerson was a very placid engine, he never yelled.

Sonny swallowed, his heart pounding under the large engine's fiery stare. He could feel his face growing hot from embarrassment. All he wanted to do was help, he wasn't expecting it to be thrown in his face like that. He hasn't exactly been welcomed to the railway with open wheels, but as more engines began to trust him, he felt more confident. However, in one quick move, Emerson destroyed that newfound confidence.

With another huff, Emerson stormed from the station. He ignored Sonny's pathetic puppy eyes as he rounded the corner away from Knapford. He drove down the line with little regard for his speed or where he was going. Until he heard a whistle just on the other side of Gordon's hill, then he sped up and just as he was about to crest the hill he found the owner of the whistle. "Spencer!" Emerson hollered.

"Wha- oh! Emerson! He- Hey!" Spencer's excitement quickly turned to horror as the one-off A3 crossed over onto his track, steaming right towards him. The private engine threw on his reverser but the sudden change locked up his drivers. He was stuck. "Shit! Em, stop! What're you doing?" The two engines collided and Spencer found himself staring a bristling engine dead in the eye. "What is this about?!"

"You knocked me off the rails you pompous buffoon!" Emerson snarled as he shoved Spencer backwards. "And you about killed my crew!"

"I did no such thing!" Spencer said. His words were desperate and strained. He had never seen the gentle engine so cross. "You're talking about my brother, Quicksilver! He's who derailed you, not me!"

Emerson let up, but only slightly. "Your brother?"

"Yes, my twin brother. I would never get involved in all of Flying Scotsman's bullshit!"

"You have a twin brother…" Emerson backed further away. He suddenly felt ridiculous. "Of course you do…"

Spencer shook himself off and looked Emerson over, then chuckled. "You poor sap. You've fallen for Meredith, haven't you?"

"What? No! Of course not!" Emerson sneered, returning his gaze to the streamlined engine. "Why would you say that?"

"I can only assume that's what the fight was about." Spencer smirked. "I've not been made abreast of all the details, but considering Scot doesn't get that worked up unless it has something to do with her, it's a safe guess. And I'm well aware of your… history with her." Emerson frowned. He didn't like the idea of other engines knowing the details of his private life. "Her panel isn't the only thing that's loose, pal." Spencer added with a wink.

Emerson's frown evolved into a full on glare. "Don't make me regret letting you go." He switched tracks and continued on down the line.

Completely oblivious to the fact he would have to pull his express soon, Emerson found himself at Vicarstown where he spotted Mallard. He furrowed his brow as he approached the mainland engine. He had not seen Mallard until that moment. The Sudrian and mainland express schedules were made certain to never overlap. As Emerson drew near, Mallard was the first to speak up after the young engine's staring had begun to rub his gears wrong. "Didn't your fitter ever tell you it's not polite to stare?"

Emerson was caught off-guard by the engine's surly tone. It was contrasting to Spencer's sing-songy speech pattern. "Forgive me," he said with a polite bow. He had parked on the adjacent track just far enough back to be able to look Mallard over. "I've just not seen you before is all."

"And I've not seen you, but you won't ever find me gawking like a curious child." Mallard was annoyed, but he was also greatly intrigued by this odd engine. "What're you called?"

"Emerson," the Sudrian express engine said with a full bodied tilt. "And you?"

"Mallard. Where's your coaches, boy?"

"I'm on break— and I'm no boy." Emerson scowled.

Mallard let out a haughty snort. "Please, the stench of your youth is overwhelming."

"Like you're much older."

"I'm old enough to tell when a young engine has been confronted with very mature problems. You really ought to practice not wearing your emotions so boldly on your smokebox."

"Are you another of Spencer's brothers?" Emerson's mind was once again spinning. He wasn't even processing Mallard's personal jabs.

"Hmph, you're slow. You may have the look of an A3, but you're so clearly not." The blue A4 grinned. "You lack dominance."

Emerson then understood that Mallard was insulting him and he puffed himself up with a glower. "I can be dominant."

"Dominant engines don't have their tenders handed to them after one swift blow, boy." Mallard pressed gravely. "I figured maybe Gordon might've taught you a thing or two, but I suppose it makes sense he didn't. Less competition that way. He's clever like that I imagine."

Emerson remained stoic. He already didn't care for Mallard. The engine was unapologetically arrogant as well as extremely patronizing. He also didn't like the flattering tone Mallard took on when speaking of Gordon. It was extremely suspicious. Emerson began to wonder if he should have simply stayed at Knapford and stewed in his anger that way. He could have avoided two very unpleasant conversations in doing so. Eventually he sighed and started back up to exit the station.

Mallard watched the young engine steam off without a word of goodbye and he smirked. He may have knocked Emerson's lack of natural superiority, but he could see the maroon Pacific's potential. Perhaps all he needed was a little push.

On the mainland the weather was less sunny, more dreary and rainy. Quicksilver had rolled into the station at York drenched and miffed. He shook his boiler, accidentally splashing a small family group standing just off the platform. They groaned and grumbled and the silver A4 offered a quiet apology before they walked away to board his train. He took a deep breath in, taking in the muggy, muddy scent of the heavy spring shower. The fat droplets of water smacked the station's glass canopy, drowning out all mixed conversations happening on the platform and in the breezeway. Quicksilver's attention was quickly stolen by the sound of Gordon coming in the opposite direction. The new express stopped just before him. "Afternoon."

"Indeed." Quicksilver said quietly. He surveyed his cousin carefully. Gordon smelled of fresh sex which made Quicksilver's lip curl. He couldn't distinguish who with, however. He just knew it wasn't Meredith. Her dewy fresh scent had become very familiar to him. "Have a bit of fun on our break, did we?"

Gordon scoffed. "Perhaps. Why do you care?"

"The odor makes me nauseous."

Gordon eased up on his glare. "What, you too good for sex?"

"No, I just don't want to smell it on every engine I come across." Quicksilver shifted his weight on his wheels. "I suppose I should offer congratulations for finally breaking the ice with Ada."

"It wasn't Ada."

Quicksilver froze, furrowing his brow. "Then who was it if you don't mind my asking?" The streamlined A4 had a hunch but he hoped with all his being he was wrong.

"Who I lay with is none of your business." Gordon snarled, he had begun to depart the platform with a hot huff of steam. "And you can tell my brother he can stop having his lackeys babysit me. I'm not going anywhere near Meredith. I'm over her."

Quicksilver's boiler rumbled in annoyance. He watched the last of Gordon's coaches pass through the station then drove off himself after his guard blared the whistle. Scotsman's brother may not have given him a straight answer, but Quicksilver didn't need to hear it to know. He continued on with his passenger run racking his brain for how he would break the news to Scotsman. It was just the scenario they wanted to avoid, but between his work and watching Meredith when Scot wasn't available, Quicksilver had let Gordon slip through the cracks. He was disappointed. He had expected much more from the distinguished A3. Though it was only safe to assume there was some deep-seated resentment fueling Gordon's actions.

As Quicksilver came to his final stop back in London he noticed Meredith nestled in the first platform. She was dripping from funnel to footplate in rainwater which meant she had just come in not too long before. She greeted him with a warm smile that he returned quicker than most. "Shouldn't you be out in the yard?"

"I needed a break from the rain." She said with a shudder. "And the gross diesels. They don't stop talking about how sparkly I am."

"Need me to rough them up a bit?" Quicksilver winked playfully.

Meredith giggled. "Actually yes, but only if I can help."

"Well how about I hold them down and you have at 'em?"

"Seems fair." Meredith removed herself from her corner to the track beside Quicksilver. There was a platform between them before which she hated. She didn't like having to talk over the waiting passengers. It felt rude. She looked his sleek boiler over. The way it glistened from the wetness was distracting. She licked her lips. "So… what're you up to after this?"

"I have some business I need to tend to." Quicksilver said with a raise of his brow. He recognized the hungry look Meredith wore as her eyes darted across his build. He felt his mouth run dry as he did his best to ignore it.

"What kind of business?" The little tank engine leaned close, her eyes were wide with curiosity and Quicksilver couldn't help but think how those big eyes would look staring up at him while— no. Stop. The big engine took a deep breath to compose himself.

"Nothing you need to concern yourself with. Your partner and I just have some things to discuss." Quicksilver made sure to emphasize 'partner' in an attempt to remind Meredith of her commitment to another.

"Right, right." Surprisingly, she understood the message and reigned herself in. While she was a little disappointed Quicksilver didn't whisk her away to a private corner, she appreciated his prudence. It was exactly what she needed.

Spencer's twin smiled. "I'm flattered you'd think of me that way, truly, but I'm not about to let you throw away a good match."

Meredith's cheeks burned hot. "I— I'm sorry." She grit her teeth and looked away from him. "I hope I didn't make you uncomfortable."

Quicksilver gave Meredith a gentle nudge. "Of course not and maybe if things were different I might've considered humoring you."

"Might have?"

"I'm not trying to look desperate." He chuckled. "I like to court someone before jumping into a berth with them."

Meredith's smile returned. "Why couldn't your brothers be more like you?"

"I have wondered that my entire life."

"Don't change, please." Meredith said. Suddenly she felt extremely sad. She thought about how Emerson had talked about her when he confronted Flying Scotsman. It broke her heart to hear someone who she thought was her best friend speak of her like some sort of fuck toy. In a way it had diminished her self-esteem, it made her wonder if it was possible to have a friend that didn't want to sleep with her.

Quicksilver bumped her again. "Hey, you don't need to worry about a thing. I'm dead set in my ways."

"Good…"

Hello, all! Again, kind of a short chapter, but I'm trying not to dwell too hard on it but my brain likes to do this thing called 'overthinking' and it causes me to spiral.

Pretty Katydid; trust me when I say I think about ALL of that nonsense whenever I'm writing the steamier scenes. It's hard to focus on that while keeping things spicy but I do my best to balance it all out. Making it somewhat mentally feasible while not writing it so stiff, ya know? It's a true balancing act. Lmao. It's kinda why I wrote that part about their first time. It kinda helped explain it in my mind and then I realize that Gordon might have noticed that she didn't feel so... small after their first encounter?? Because his younger brother kinda loosened her up a bit.

As far as ladies go I have a plan for a couple little Scottish girls (not siblings, just friends) but I'm just not sure when to throw them in...? Still working those details out.

Also yay for Emerson and his new trauma! :DDD Even the sweet, perfect bean wasn't safe from the Bumble Effect aka 'I Gotta Traumatize My Characters Because Life Sucks And I Have Issues'.

The Valentino Era is amazing. I wonder what this era would be? I'll have to ponder that one for a bit. I'll admit I do miss the more sleazy Scot, but he's going through growth so I must hold fast for the plot.

Anywho; it's late. I gotta go to sleep so I can wake up and keep doing life or whatever. Y'all are amazing.

Peace and love;

Bumble