That night, Geoffrey and Richard were with Luke; who was still coughing miserably in the tunnel.

"This won't do!" Richard huffed. "We really need to stop this madness, now, Geoff- before things get any worse!"

"Well, what can we sods do about it?" Geoffrey argued. "We're stuck between the Devil and the deep blue flipping sea!" Only, his statement was far more explicit.

"What are you guys arguing about?" Luke asked, coughing. He hadn't been able to pay much attention to their arguing, but he was aware they were disagreeing about something or other.

"We're not arguing!" Protested Geoffrey, raising his hands up quickly in a surrender gesture, to which Luke attempted to give him an 'oh really?' look- but merely sneezed instead. He looked out dejectedly at the snow.

"Well, Geoffrey and I were debating about getting you somewhere proper to sleep. It can't do you any good being cooped in those wretched railed warrens all day and then have to be forced to sleep here too." Richard explained.

"I appreciate the thought, but there's no point." Luke yawned. "Peter Sam told me about some engines that live on the Skarloey Railway as well as Ivo Hugh. One of them might be forced to work here and spot the shed- no, thank you very much Mr Wilson, but tunnels will do for- ATCHOO- me."

"Bless you." Geoffrey said quietly, rubbing Luke's buffer beam consolingly.

"Go raibh maith agat." Luke whispered as he sat there and shivered like a poor Dickensian wretch.

"Well, you need somewhere warm, Luke, and this tunnel is very draughty." Richard told him firmly.

"You sound like a mother hen, Rich." Joked Geoffrey. "You're worse than my wife."

"I'm aware of the draught, Mr. Wilson, and if you were both stuck here with me, I'd be more concerned about it." Luke answered, gracefully ignoring his driver's comment in favour of giving Richard his full attention. "But please don't trouble yourselves about me. You've got bigger problems on your mind, I'm sure."

"Yes- I'd best head home to the family, eh?" Geoffrey said pleasantly, rising from his perch near Luke's right buffer.

"Wait- you have a family?" Luke asked, surprised.

Geoffrey winced. He hadn't meant to tell Luke about them- as he'd just get curious about the matter and neglect everything else altogether. Besides, he wanted to keep his family in the dark about the little engine; he didn't want his children, or even Kirsty, to find out about Luke's secret, lest they unwittingly let their guard down.

"Yes, I do- I have my wife, Kirsty Mackintosh." Geoffrey explained. "We have a daughter, Alexandra Violet Heron, and two sons, Nathaniel Elliot Heron and Jack Austin Heron."

"They're just a crazy ravenous bunch of Herons that swoop in when you least expect it." Richard muttered to Luke, who couldn't help but giggle.

Geoffrey shrugged. "I'd fight for their honour, but truth has the far greater honour." He admitted.

This, unbeknownst to Geoffrey, made Luke gulp and fall silent again. He didn't speak again for the rest of his crew's visit; save to wish them goodnight when they finally went home; after they both ensured that he was as well protected against the elements as they could manage.

...

The two men had to part ways shortly after they left Luke to get some rest.

"Well, I'm beat." Richard yawned, stretching his arms over his head.

"So am I, old chap- but I'm working the late shift on the Skarloey Railway tonight." Geoffrey told him wearily.

"What do you do there?" Asked Richard, curiously.

"I clean. It's not as dignified a job as my forefathers did on the LNER, but I've got a young family to support. Or have you forgotten that already?"

"Of course I haven't forgotten!" Richard snapped. "I don't see why you think it's possible, anyway- keeping Luke a secret from your kids and your prying wife? Don't you think someone will find out sooner or later? Why must you be so bloody thick?!"

"Damn it, Richard- will you just keep my wife out of this!" Geoffrey shouted, his shoulders tense, fists forming at his sides. "What's Kirsty ever done to you?"

"Nothing- but I know she's being a right nosy little"-

CRACK!

...

Geoffrey wiped the blood off his knuckles as he watched his colleague stumble to the ground, gingerly clutching his nose to try and stem the blood gushing out.

"What the hell, Geoff? This isn't like you!" Richard protested, but his voice sounded different. He cursed, realising his friend had broken his nose. "Why did you do that, anyway?"

"Rich, you just about insulted my wife; whom you normally regard as a sister." Geoffrey pointed out. "And, friend or not; anyone who so much as attempts to insult Kirsty gets a slug on the nose from me. That was part of my wedding vows, remember?"

"Yeah… never had I seen Father Gilligan so startled." Richard recalled, chuckling. "You're not supposed to incite violence on holy grounds, mate- even if it's in honour of someone else."

Geoffrey chuckled. God, where had those carefree days gone? He wondered. It had been just grand, him and his new bride, along with one of their closest friends, laughing and singing and having fun; both on adventures, and in the pub.

Now, his happiness had sunk to the bottom of the ocean when the yellow engine fell in; he was keeping his beloved engine's existence a secret from Mr. Percival- heck, even his own family; and now Kirsty was starting to suspect something was going up.

"Geez, I'm sorry, Rich. I didn't like you calling my wife a- well, whatever you going to call her." Geoffrey apologized. "I want to help Luke, God knows I do- and yet, things don't feel the same anymore." He apologized, offering a hand to his fallen friend.

"I get it, mate- apology accepted." Richard replied, wiping his nose on his sleeve before replying, sheepishly, "And I'm sorry, too- for nearly insulting Kirsty. You do know I respect her, right?"

"Course I do," Replied Geoffrey, and the two men shook hands in reconciliation before Geoffrey helped his friend to his feet. He offered the younger man a handkerchief to wipe the blood from his nose.

"Here."

"Thanks mate. And for the record- I seriously have nothing against Kirsty; despite what I said. But she's been sending letters again, hasn't she?" He asked as he carefully cleaned the blood from his philtrum.

"How do you know that?" Geoffrey asked, surprised and curious at his friend's deduction. "And since when could you deduce like Sherlock bloody Holmes?"

"Well, your wallet- you always keep a fiver sticking out of it for emergencies. Only you dropped it this morning, and it wasn't there." Richard replied.

"How would you know I never bought a tea or a coffee with it?" Geoffrey challenged defensively; though a small part of him retained that boyish curiosity at learned how Richard knew that without him even mentioning it.

"You hate tea, you're fussy with how your coffee's prepared, and you've vowed to eat every meal she makes you until your deathbed." Richard rattled off, smirking triumphantly.

Geoffrey sighed in defeat. "You know me too well, pal. Jack got a hold of his mum's letter before she could post it this morning, and I paid him for his services."

"So are you going to tell her about...?"

"Are you flipping crazy? I don't want her to persuade me to give Luke up for a job I can get paid for. Granted, he may not have been the engine I've always dreamed of driving, but I've grown fond of him- he feels like family to me now."

"Me too," His fireman agreed. "He's the closest I've got to a family- since my brother moved to Canada and my sister to Wales. And don't even bring up my mother." He added warningly.

Geoffrey nodded sympathetically. He was well aware his best friend and fireman had had a horrible childhood; one he did not wish to relive anytime soon.

"Aye- but you could always marry, you know." He pointed out teasingly, hoping to lift the mood a little bit.

"No thanks- I can manage without a wife and kids – otherwise they'd drive me nuts all the time!" Richard answered.

"What, even mine?" Geoffrey asked, in a mock hurt voice.

"Well, I'll say this- sometimes, they're the specialty, and other times they are the exception." Richard replied candidly. "But, nonetheless, I consider Luke, you and your family more than enough for me to be happy."

Save for a remark on how touched Geoffrey felt at this sentiment, the two men said nothing as they trudged through the thick wintery hell, where they suddenly saw, by lantern's light, Skarloey ploughing through with some empty trucks to return to the quarry before he could go home for the night.

"Hey, do you guys need a lift?" He called.

The two looked at one another before giving their response in a grateful affirmative.

"Very well, then. But I can only go as far as the Depot." Skarloey answered. "I can't stay out here; it will get worse tonight!"

"That's fine!" Replied Richard. Geoffrey cursed.

"Good show- just let me drop these off and I'll get you to Crovan's Gate Station before you can say 'Blue Mountain!'" Skarloey said kindly. "Hop on, gentlemen!"

"Who assigned you to cleaning, anyway?" Asked Richard in a whisper, as the two friends climbed onto Skarloey's footplate.

"An old acquaintance." Geoffrey muttered.

"Just tell him you can't make it."

"It's not that, mate- I was asked to clean Lakeside anyway. But I live near Crovan's Gate Station, remember? How am I supposed to get home in this bloody storm?" Asked Geoffrey in exasperation.

Richard had no answer to that.

...

Skarloey's crew were very hospitable to Luke's crew, and soon they were warmed up again- thanks to the delightful combination of Skarloey's roaring fire and a flask of delicious hot cocoa.

"Ah, that's better..." Geoffrey sighed, allowing himself to relax by the fire despite his difficult predicament.

"So, what's the news on Luke?" Skarloey called back.

"He's sick again. He got stuck in a snowdrift last night and remained there until dawn." Geoffrey explained, before he could stop himself.

"Why was he out last night? What were you doing?" Skarloey asked

"... Okay, if you must know, we were rescuing Smudger from the shack- erm, shed on the Mid Sodor Railway." Richard explained, annoyed at his colleague's slip up.

"But that's madness! Mr Wilson, I thought you were a man of God- given common sense! What happened, man?" Asked Skarloey with a shocked concern.

"Outvoted," Growled Richard. "Geoffrey's a bad influence on Luke- they're both stubborn and lack common sense at the best of times."

"Oh- like you're a better influence on him, Richard!" Geoffrey fumed. "You've got a foul temper and almost called my wife"-

"Gentlemen, please!" Skarloey thundered. "Now is not the time to quarrel!"

"Sorry Skarloey!" Both men chorused in alarm, before turning to the old engine's crew.

"How often does he get angry?" Geoffrey asked curiously, though with a tremble in his voice.

"It's very rare, actually," Mr Rose, Skarloey's fireman, answered. "But when he does get cross, it's usually for someone else's wellbeing- but it's a bit confusing. Gotta warn you, though- ever since this whole 'keeping Luke a secret' business came around, he's been way too quick to lose his temper."

"You're telling us," Muttered Richard, sardonically; just as they suddenly heard a loud 'CLANG!' and Skarloey quickly-and involuntarily- ground to a halt in the middle of nowhere.

"What's wrong, old boy?" Mr Wendell called.

"I can't move!" Skarloey replied. "There's something blocking the line ahead of me!"

Puzzled, Mr Wendell hopped down from the cab and looked around for the source of the blockage- but all he could see was a massive snowdrift in front of them. They attempted to dig the snow from the front, but they only achieved limited success.

Then there was trouble. A tree branch hanging above the old engine snapped and suddenly crashed into his boiler, causing snow to slip down his funnel. Skarloey shivered as the cold, damp snow crashed down his funnel until it plopped onto his fire, quickly extinguishing the burning coals inside.

"Well, it looks like we're stuck here tonight." Mr. Rose observed, causing Mr. Wendell to swear a muffled curse.

Geoffrey and Richard groaned. This was the second time they had been caught in a snow related accident with an engine- worse, they happened over two days in a row!

Meanwhile Skarloey looked up at the stars, silently hoping that a friend would come along and rescue them- heck, he wouldn't have minded Duncan or Sir Handel teasing him at this point; but, surprise, surprise, no one came.

Skarloey and the four men were alone and frightened; stuck in the middle of nowhere, freezing half to death, and unable to contact help or find a way to move.