The Steamworks at Doncaster was still for once. Not an engine needing repair in sight. Dirk was busy organizing the separate work bays. There was a slight storm brewing outside and he knew where there was inclement weather, there was derailments.

Though no engines required servicing, Dirk wasn't the only one present that day in the yard. While he shunted and puffed around, Meredith was there keeping him company. After her extremely intimate kiss with Quicksilver that was followed by underhanded insults, she dipped to see her friend. The one she knew for a fact didn't see her as merely a midnight snack. She ranted to him until the sun rose and clouds formed over it. He listened quietly knowing full well all she needed was someone to vent on.

She slipped down the tracks and past a group of workmen playing cards as Dirk reappeared from the stores with a flatbed of materials meant for grinding an engine's wheels. "What do you think? Should I change my paint?" Meredith glanced at her reflection in a sheet of steel sat propped up by the tracks. Her sparkly paint was beginning to feel more and more like a target on her back. If she could be less desirable perhaps she'd have an easier time warding off her own sexual impulses.

Dirk uncoupled from the flatbed and rolled up beside her with a gentle frown. "I don't think so."

"Why?" Meredith looked away from herself and started up again with Dirk following closely.

"Being able to wear paint such as that is a privilege, Meredith. You don't want to look like everyone else. So dull and lifeless. You're not dull and lifeless, are you?" He smiled which comforted Meredith.

"I guess not." She stopped again. "But say I did. Do you think Scot would still love me?"

Dirk laughed a hearty laugh, giving her boiler a nudge with his. "Mer, that engine is obsessed with you. He would see you as the most beautiful creature in the world even if you were ugly and brown."

"So… you don't think it's just physical?" Meredith had begun to question Scotsman's intentions with her. It felt silly. Time and time again he had proven his love ran far deeper than the surface. Still, she had a hard time shaking the feeling his affections were that shallow.

"Of course not. I don't know why you're even asking me that." Dirk smiled. "Anyone with eyes can see how much he loves you."

The two continued to mingle quietly. The simple cloud cover outside quickly transitioned to rain and thunder and Meredith found herself growing sleepy. She nestled into a rear corner of the yard and dozed off while watching Dirk continue to scuttle across the rails.

When she woke up the bay was still and dark. She inched forward as she frantically looked around for any signs of life. There was no one. Not even Dirk. "Uh… hello?" Her voice was a strained whisper as she steamed forward, her boiler in knots. She had never experienced a quiet such as that. She could hear the steam flowing through her valves, the water trickling through her tubes. She didn't like it.

Then there was a sound.

She stopped, she could feel her heart pounding in her head. She wanted to scream, to confront whatever asshole decided this prank was funny, but it's like her jaw had been wired shut.

Another sound. Like something moving towards her. Something big.

Meredith began to back away until a set of buffer stops ceased her escape. She stared at the shadowy track ahead as she saw him come into the faded light. "Hello, little Meredith." Mallard purred.

"NO! Get away! Leave me alone!" She threw her weight against the wall as if somehow she could break it down. "Get away!"

"Meredith!" Another voice called as Mallard closed in. It was distant and echoey. "Meredith!"

"Get away from me!" She powered forward in a shower of furious sparks colliding with the big engine. When she opened her eyes the lights were on, but Mallard was still there, holding her by her buffers. She engaged her reverser and tried to pull away. "Go away you disgusting son of a bitch!" She snarled.

"Excuse me?" The big engine released her and she slammed back into the wall.

Meredith's eyes shot open and she put herself in his face. "Why do you have to torture me?!" She cried, shoving him as best she could. "Why can't you just leave me alone?!"

The big engine snarled steam, twisting Meredith's front buffers and knocking her to her side with a heavy bang. "I don't think you realize who you're talking to, my dear." His voice was steady, dark, and seductively posh.

Meredith blinked as the dust cleared. She stared up at the glowering engine above her and she realized he was right. She had not a clue who he was. "Y—you're not Mallard…"

"Of course I'm not you dumb cunt!" The engine growled. He shook himself off with another exhale of steam from his nose. "You'd do right to be sure you're pushing around the correct engine first little titter." He glanced down at his twisted buffers and grunted. "Ugh, I just needed my wheels grinded but now— oh, you stupid little engines— Dirk!"

The German shunter zoomed from outside, his body dripping wet from the downpour. "Yes, yes, coming!" He slid to a stop beside the blistering A4 and gasped when he saw Meredith off the rails. "What on earth happened?" A group of workmen had already begun figuring out how to return her to the tracks.

"The little dewdrop picked a losing fight." The big engine grumbled with a smirk that made Meredith's mouth run dry. The parallels to Mallard were impossible to ignore. The same garter blue paintwork, the same blood red wheels, and the same deceptively gentle features. But who was he?

Dirk cast a worried stare to Meredith and she looked away. "I— uhh.. I thought he was Mallard."

The little black engine couldn't help but chuckle. He looked over the new engine's buffers with a smile. "No, no, this is Bittern. His identical twin."

"How identical?" Meredith continued to study Bittern's expression, but all she saw was over-saturated confidence dusted with lustful desire.

"I can always show you." Bittern purred.

Meredith curled her lip in response as she was hauled back onto the track by a compact crane.

"Awwh," he continued with a mocking pout. "My brother must have really offended you."

"You could say that." Meredith mumbled. She was surprised Bittern wasn't aware of the full extent of Mallard's actions. Wasn't he curious about why his own twin suddenly vanished? Or perhaps he was merely playing dumb to get a rise out of her.

Dirk put himself between the big engine and Meredith so he could inspect her as well. Luckily it was only her paintwork that suffered from her jostling. "Looks like you'll just need a re-paint, Mer. I'll go ahead and gather the supplies and clear out a private room. Bittern," he backed up beside the A4. "There's a gantry setup at bay four if you wouldn't mind heading that way. We'll sort your wheels and mend your buffers. Sound good?"

"Mmm," Bittern's voice vibrated his boiler. He finally pulled his gaze from Meredith as he slinked across the yard and out of sight.

Meredith looked at Dirk. "He seems… pleasant."

"He's not." Dirk admitted with a shake of his boiler. "But he will leave you alone. He's an unapologetic flirt, but he at least knows how to stay away from engines who say no."

Meredith should have felt relief, but with all the mental noise relief wasn't possible. She decided to keep quiet as she was prepped for her repaint.

A few hours passed and Meredith's base coat had been applied. While the workmen mixed her usual paint she stopped them. The supervisor approached the engine and listened intently to her request. He nodded and strolled into his office. A few moments later he appeared again giving Meredith a thumbs up and she watched the workmen as they hurriedly packed away the pearly paint.

Mallard had managed to wander all the way to Scotland. He continued to hug the coastal cliffs; careful to avoid any main passenger lines. He left Ellis back at Scarborough. He grew weary of her constant bitching and the sex had become rather dull.

His paintwork had started to chip and peel. It itched him horribly, but there was no way he could return to Doncaster for a repaint. He simply suffered, sometimes holding in his steam long enough to vibrate his boiler to relieve the irritation, but he had to be careful not to hold it too long. Too much pressure and he could blow himself up.

He came to a stop at the top of a steep cliff. The buffer stops that once sat at the end of the rails had rotted away and he was able to put himself close enough to see down the several hundred foot drop.

He watched the rough waves crash through a forest of towering rocks, worn down to points by the constant abuse of the water. He smiled as he imagined pushing Flying Scotsman off the rails and onto those rocks. His frown quickly returned however. He had to figure out a way to coax that damn engine all the way out there. Somehow.

Mallard locked his jaw as he pondered his options. He could always use Meredith, but he knew there was no way he'd be able to get close enough to drag her himself. He would need the help of another. An engine close to her. An engine with their own vendetta against Flying Scotsman.

He shook his boiler, cursing quietly. "Damn this paint," he groaned to himself. He then wondered if perhaps another Steamworks would be willing to repair and repaint a helpless, homeless engine.

Mallard grinned from buffer to buffer then backed down the hill. He had a long journey to make.

On Sodor, the weather was comfortable with not a cloud in sight. Emerson was resting at Knapford while he watched Sonny assisting Thomas with shunting a train for Henry. The little tank engine would occasionally glance towards Emerson with an awkward smile. It made Emerson's heart race seeing Sonny. What started out as a sort of friends with benefits arrangement turned into something more. Something he didn't even have with Ryan.

"Watch out, Sonny!" Thomas called out after a car slipped from his coupling.

"AH!" Sonny yelped before quickly dodging the loose car. It clambered onward before knocking into Henry's brake van, startling the heavy engine.

"What was that?!" Henry cried. The sudden jolt nearly caused him to fly out of his paint.

Thomas winced. "Sorry, Henry! I— Slipped." He laughed awkwardly then stopped when he saw Edward eyeing him with a disapproving scowl.

Luckily, James whizzed by, pulling Edward's attention from the clumsy blue tank engine. The brilliant red engine stopped to give his partner a kiss on the cheek before continuing on to the platform with his coaches. Edward's face heated up until he noticed all the little engines watching him. Then he frowned. "You should all be working, not watching me."

Thomas and Sonny exchanged a quick glance before they both continued on with their shunting. Henry had already departed by that moment, leaving Emerson to sit alone on his siding watching as Edward picked up another train of scrap for the scrap yard. He enjoyed watching the little engines work. They were so innocent, so full of a light that the larger engines he's known seemed to seriously lack.

Then Emerson peeked over at the station where Rebecca sat with Sam. They were talking quietly to each other. Every few words Rebecca would giggle like a little love-struck school girl. He didn't blame her. Sam was a very charming engine. They were sweet together. He tried not to wonder how their intimacy worked. It would likely cause him to throw a rod.

For a brief moment the Sudrian express engine was able to forget the drama that plagued his mind. He was able to focus on all the goodness his quaint little railway brought. For the first time in a long time Emerson felt full. He was able to allow a genuine smile to sneak across his face as he relished in the peace of the day. Then he shut his eyes and with a calming breath in, succumbed to sleep.

Flying Scotsman arrived back at London late. He had completed his final run for the day and was ready to dry off in the warmth of his shed. He hoped maybe Meredith would be up for a ride but he wasn't going to hold his breath. He hadn't seen her since the day before and he had a sinking feeling she was avoiding him. Of course he understood she had been through some troubling events, but a selfish part of him wished she would push it aside for just one night. It had been a few months since her incident. Scot was more than restless.

Quicksilver and Kestrel both slid in beside Scot. All three of them were sopping wet. The rain had picked up as the day went on and it was practically a tsunami outside.

Scot took note of Kestrel's sour pout and snorted. "What's got you so put off?"

"Bittern's back." Kestrel grumbled.

Quicksilver shook his boiler. "You knew Dr. Hart needed an engine to fill Mallard's spot. Who better for that than him?"

"Literally any other A4." Kestrel huffed.

"They took him off the Eastern line?" Scot inquired with a slight tilt.

Quicksilver nodded. "Last I heard he was at the Steamworks having his wheels grinded. But I've not seen him out yet."

"Hmm." Scotsman furrowed his brow. He didn't know too much of Bittern, but what he knew wasn't entirely negative. Aside from his attitude. He noted Kestrel's excess steam and decided to change the subject. "Have either of you seen Meredith? I'm afraid she might be avoiding me."

The A4 brothers exchanged a glance then Quicksilver spoke. "I saw her while I was at York." He paused, carefully picking his words. "I'm surprised she's not sought you out."

"How so?"

"Well she's had a bit of a… makeover." Kestrel did his best to keep from grinning, but a snarky half-smile escaped.

Scotsman stared at Quicksilver. His lieutenant smiled. "I think you'll like it."

After a quick bit of idle gossip the three engines departed for their sheds. Scotsman's boiler bubbled nervously. He wasn't sure how to handle the idea of Meredith sporting a new look. She would be beautiful to him regardless, but he wondered what might've prompted such a change.

As he approached his yard he could see light coming from his shed. His nerves intensified. He tried to focus on something else as he drew closer, but the rainfall resulted in the world around him being completely dark and all that caught his eye was that warm, yellow glow.

He stopped at the door, watching the water drip down the old wood. He took a deep breath before nudging it open. As he rolled in he blinked several times while his eyes adjusted, but once he was able to focus on Meredith, his breath caught in his throat.

Gone was her pretty pearly paint. Instead she sat proud in BR green, the same shade as Scotsman. Her letters hand painted in gold, lined with red. The only bit that remained of her old livery was found in the delicate outlines around her black piping. Even her nameplate was painted to match his with the cast-iron sand-blasted in red and the lettering vivid gold.

Meredith gave her stunned lover a meek smile. She breathed in sharply as he remained speechless. "I'm sorry that I've been distant and that I've not been the best partner, but I— I thought that maybe if I had myself painted to match you it would be sort of a way for me to completely dedicate myself to you." She paused for a moment. Scotsman still sat in the doorway, the rain poured behind him, his expression completely unreadable. Meredith decided to keep talking. "So I— I thought maybe this could be my way of sort of… proposing? I know engines don't actually get married like people do but… I don't know," she shrugged. "I figured this could be a close second."

The two sat in tense silence for seemingly forever, then Scot began to roll forward. His eyes darted all over Meredith, taking in everything about her new look. She watched him nervously, still unable to make out what he was thinking.

Meredith opened her mouth to speak more but was cut off by Scotsman shoving his tongue against hers. She sighed in relief as she turned herself deeper into the kiss. She was anxious about the possibility of him completely rejecting her gesture, but that anxiety was quickly released by his voracious makeout.

She lifted herself up as Scot pushed her backwards. He broke their embrace for a moment, catching his breath. "I hope you got plenty of rest today," he said with a deliciously deviant smirk. He stole another wet kiss as he connected to her with a satisfied rumble of his boiler. He caressed her cheek with his lips, then hovered over her mouth. "We've got quite a bit of catching up to do."

Meredith smiled mischievously, dropping herself suddenly, shoving him deeper and catching the big engine completely off-guard.

"Damn…" he breathed in sharply through clenched teeth. His face was completely flushed and they hadn't even started. He shoved Meredith up into the wall and as he started in with starved vigor, she began to move herself, adding a new level of intensity to the already heavy encounter.

Scotsman's moans were nearly as loud as Meredith's. He forced her into deep kisses just to try and muffle his vocalizing. She had never ridden him like that before and he was out of breath straining to hold back a release already.

He slowed for a moment so he could pull her into another sloppy kiss. "I fucking love you." He sighed. Meredith giggled, he sounded so visceral when he cursed.

She nuzzled his cheek, then ran her tongue along the tight space between his smokebox and fenders. He shivered and moaned. "Christ…"

His sounds only furthered Meredith's own excitement. She wanted to make him weak. In a quick and sudden motion she pushed him backwards then wrapped her mouth around him.

The sounds that escaped Scot's throat at that moment were feral and unhinged. All the ways she moved her tongue caused him to quiver non-stop. He was out of breath, unable to even focus his vision so he closed his eyes until he teetered the edge of orgasm. When he reached that cliff he pulled her up and onto his lips again, slipping back into her undercarriage and pounding her until she was a wiggling, sweating, screaming mess.

They stopped only for a moment, but never separated. Scot gently laid kisses all across Meredith's face as she worked to catch her breath. He then kissed her lips, chuckling softly. "Alright," he whispered while he slipped back inside her causing her to gasp. "Break-time's over."

Another sexy one, you're welcome. Lmao. I'll admit I try to avoid being too graphic unless it's a significant moment just because I feel like after a while it gets exhausting and repetitive. Sometimes we gotta just pull it back and chill for a minute. Lmao.

Secondly; I need to point something out that's been bothering me. It's strange and I'll go ahead and warn whoever is reading that you're about to be fed some information you may or may not have wanted. BUT I wanted to discuss... parts. Specifically... sex parts. So, imma be for real, I can not sleep peacefully thinking there's someone out there imagining my male engines with nothing but a massive version of a human... penis. *cough* so I need to elaborate. They do NOT look like that- at all! Think more along the lines of perhaps a cetacean's equipment. It comes to a bit of a point... but it's not sharp? Kinda snakey, not at all that weird looking honestly. It matches the color of their undercarriages so like black, gray, silver, etc. And as far as a female- well remove the protective covering and it's just a line. Nothing protruding or anything. Just a little slit. *shrugs* simple.

So that's that, I'm sorry, but I'm not. I needed to put that out there for my own peace of mind honestly.

Pretty Katydid; Yeah, idk, I have a hard time writing the A4's nice. Their appearance is so strong and imposing it's difficult to imagine a 'gentle' A4. But I'm glad we can agree on the whole female engine thing. Again, I think I may be a little sexist but larger engines in general I have a difficult time imagining as female depending on the class. But wholly agree that if an engine has an obviously masculine name they should be addressed using masculine pronouns. I watched a video on the real The Flying Scotsman and hearing them all refer to the engine as 'she' and 'her' made me feel strange. I didn't like it. SCOT'S A DUDE, DAMMIT.

I decided to go easy on Em this chapter because he's in for it in the future so... a little buffer to just worsen the blow I suppose. Heh. Also, Kestrel I've decided is probably the closest I can get to having a 'nice' A4. Aka, he's more or less just dumb and childish until it comes to those he 'loves' or cares about. Ya know.

I've gotta start pooling together ideas for another installment as this one is reaching its climax and end, so bear with me as I work through that and finish this. I don't think I'll cut it as short as last one, but we'll see how things go.

Anywho, I hope y'all are continuing to enjoy! I'm loving the reviews and feedback! It means so much to me! Welp, I gotta go wash my hands after typing that last part so I'll see you all next chapter!

Much love;

Bumble