Marilyn sobbed uncontrollably, she was shoved into her shed by Sam who was blistering mad. His nostrils flared, lips curled to reveal his menacing teeth, he bashed her buffers hard. "You stop that crying right now!" He demanded, she bit her lip and merely whimpered as her brother closed in on her yet again. "I wish you could see how ugly you are when you cry, maybe you'd do it less and I wouldn't have to suffer your noise." The male paused, contented finally to find his sister fallen silent, though averted her glassy gaze. "I'll give you one chance to answer me honestly: what gave you the impression it was okay to fuck another male?"

She hesitated, and when she spoke her words were full of fear. "I— I didn't think you'd find out."

"Oh, so you were planning to lie to me?" Sam sneered, he lifted her up to force her to look at him. "When did you become such an unfaithful whore?!"

"When did you become such a hateful bastard?!" Marilyn shouted, Sam dropped her on the tracks and slammed her buffers in. "I thought you loved me!"

"Oh I do love you, my dearest," Sam whispered. "Which is why I'm letting this little mistake of yours slide but let me remind you of something: I own you. You don't do a damn thing without my permission and you certainly don't get to fuck whoever you choose!"

Marilyn recoiled and looked away from her brother yet again. She tried to figure out exactly where things went wrong with him, why he would behave in such a beastial way, but nothing clicked. One second he was quiet, reserved, the next he was fucking her, beating her, insulting her. It broke her heart to see him devolving before her very eyes. More tears streamed her cheek, she squeezed her eyes shut when she felt Sam's nose wiping them away. "Don't call me ugly." She whispered.

"Only when you cry," he said as he pulled her against him. "Every other time you're as beautiful as the sunset. Warm, bright, fleeting, something I wish I could hold onto forever."

"Then stop treating me like I'm some pet," Marilyn warned, she accepted his embrace and allowed him to brush his nose and lips across her cheek. "If you love me so then show me respect."

"I will," Sam breathed, he kissed her cheek, then her nose, then her lips. "Once you've earned it."

His sister sighed. "How will I do that?"

"Listen to me, do as I say," he paused to steal another deeper kiss. "And fuck me as I like."

Marilyn sighed in defeat, opening herself for a messy tongue-filled embrace from her brother. He lifted her up to slide himself inside her. He whispered gently. "I hate to admit when Scot is right about something, but there really is nothing quite like feeling the warmth of a female."

Marjorie peeked inside Hayden and Alex's flat before letting herself in. The warming weather allowed her to dress lighter with only an airy shawl to shield her bare shoulders from any lingering icy chill. She dusted her heels off outside then moved down the hall, she was surprised to find none of the lights on in any of the rooms. "Hayden?" She peeked around the corner through the silent sitting area then into the kitchen. A silver kettle sat still warm on the stovetop, a small flame flickered persistently beneath and Marjorie was quick to switch the fire completely off. She then turned with a huff, propped her hands on her hips. "Alex?" She called again. No answer. She began to feel uneasy, the small wall clock in the sitting room seemed to tick louder each passing second in tune with the beating in her own chest. The woman walked slowly back down the hall towards the darkened master bedroom. "Guys, it's Saturday, we had plans for lunch." She laughed nervously. "I can't believe you forgot, though I shouldn't be surprised— you are men." Once she reached the bedroom door she hesitated. "I better not find you two naked when I open this door." It creaked open and she stood in relieved silence. "Hayden! God you about gave me a heart attack… Hayden?"

He was silent, his bare back to her, sat on the edge of his bed as he stared deadpan out the sunny window. The woman circled around to sit beside him and noticed his eyes were red with tears. "What happened? Where's Alex?"

"He left," the young controller spoke softly. He interlaced his fingers then stared at his palms. "He said he'd seen enough war and death in his time, so he left for Australia early this morning— to be with his parents."

Marjorie wrapped her arm around Hayden's shoulders and sighed. "What a coward for abandoning you like this."

"He's no coward," Hayden admitted with a slight smile. "He's just smarter than me, always has been. Maybe one day I'll learn enough to follow him."

"But for now?"

The man sighed, wiped his eyes. "For now… I embrace my ignorance." He then looked at Marjorie and smiled. "Someone has to advocate for these bastard beasts."

"And you're the best one for it," she said, giving him a squeeze. "So… still feel up for lunch, just me and you?"

Hayden forced himself to his feet and held his hand out to her. "Absolutely."

The pair strolled along London's streets talking and laughing loudly for quite some time until they found somewhere to eat. A small pub located outside Westminster Palace with a perfect view of its towering clock, Big Ben. Marjorie had never seen the landmark so close and kept glancing over at it throughout their meal as if it would sprout legs and run off to never be seen again. Hayden watched her in bemused silence while he repeatedly stabbed at his roasted chicken with a fork. He knew he needed to eat, the hunger pangs were enough to bring on mild nausea, but every time he went to take a bite his throat closed. He felt defeated, and hungry. "Goddammit," he grumbled, he tossed his fork onto his plate and crossed his arms.

Marjorie looked at him, her cheek fat with mashed potatoes. "You really should eat," her voice was muffled from the food. "You're not going to do any good starving yourself."

"I know," the man said, he was watching a couple a few tables down. They talked quietly, smiling as they did so, their conversation likely mundane and uninteresting, but their eyes were invested and the controller envied them. "It'll just take some getting used to I guess."

Marjorie spun her fork around on her near empty plate. "You know, I had a boyfriend once."

Hayden raised his brow and a smile teased his cheeks. "No? You?"

"I know, I know, seems impossible, which in reality it is. No man likes a working girl and especially a working girl who knows more about mechanics than any average man." She laughed and took a sip of water. "But one man did, oh he was my world. Left fresh flowers on my kitchen table every morning, made my coffee, listened to my railway drama with what seemed like genuine interest. Then one day the flowers began to die, the coffee pot collected dust, and my words fell on deaf ears. When I finally confronted him on the shift in attitude he simply told me that I was too much for him and that I should consider staying home." She exhaled, took another drink. "I told him to go fuck himself and that night he packed his things and I never saw him again. From what I've heard he'd met a pretty pair of legs willing to lower herself enough to marry him then proceed to punch out a couple of kids. They live in a nice house, have nice cars, nannies. All things I could've had maybe, but I wasn't willing to be less, I wasn't willing to diminish myself to be easily swallowed. I would've rather seen him choke on every last bit of me."

The controller blinked, he took a bite of chicken and found he suddenly remembered how to swallow. Marjorie watched him for a moment then tilted her head with a playful grin. "I think I'm ready to head home."

With a mouthful Hayden snapped his fingers at a passing waiter and made a gesture for him to bring their check once he turned around. When he brought it Hayden just slapped one-hundred pounds in the lad's hand as he stood. "Keep the change." He said as he grabbed Marjorie's hand and pulled her towards the exit. The waiter watched them leave before he glanced to the money and pocketed what remained after their tab.

"Are we counting down the days, my love?" Scotsman hummed into a phone's receiver held by a visibly uncomfortable yardsman.

"I'm counting the seconds." Meredith's thickened voice replied from the other side. "I miss you so much, I just want to see you."

"As do I," Scotsman watched a stone-faced diesel roll by. "I'm sorry I've neglected to call you recently, things have been… hectic."

"So I've heard…"

Scotsman noted the shift in her tone and sighed. "Are you upset with me?"

"Of course not, I just wish I were there."

"You will be soon, and when you are you will not leave my sight."

"Or your berth," Meredith teased.

"Expect to live there the first few days you're home," Scotsman breathed. He moved closer to the phone to whisper, his hot breath burned the poor worker's hand. "I plan to ride you until my boiler runs dry ten times over."

He heard the little female's body shudder. "Save yourself." She whispered back. "I want you to be nice and riled, just for me."

"Oh I think I can do that," the male shook himself to work off his building pressure. "Give you a nice soak with what I've built up, though you know what that means?"

"What?"

"Means you have to save yourself for me," Scotsman growled. "Keep that valve nice, tight, and shut until time comes for me to fuck it."

He knew Meredith was shocked by the request, but she as well was tingly with excitement. Time was closing in on her to return home and even though it would be difficult to stave off the Union Pacific's randy collection of big bad boys, it would well be worth it. "Well, I'll see to that, in the meantime I'm due for a wash. Try not to imagine me all sudsy and slippery, yes?"

Scotsman clenched his jaw and smirked. "Oh I'll imagine it, but that's all I'll do."

"I love you, big boy."

"And I love you, my dirty girl."

There was a small giggle and the line hung up. The LNER male then sat quietly staring at the phone after the worker quickly clicked the phone onto its dock and scurried away clutching his freshly blistered hand. Scotsman puffed at the little man then urged himself back to his platform at Victoria where he was surprised to see a rather chipper Hayden waiting to greet him. The engine narrowed his eyes at the human dressed in his old driver uniform. "What are you doing? I thought you were off this weekend."

"Change of plans," Hayden popped up on his toes as he spoke. "You and I will be working together for the rest of today."

Scotsman tightened his brow and frowned. The man smelled fresh like he had just stepped out of the shower, his cheeks flushed and he smelled of earthy cologne, but once the engine took a deep breath and broke through all the masking scents, he knew, and he smiled. "You fucked that pretty American girl, didn't you?"

Hayden fumbled immediately and loosened his tie as he checked to make sure no passengers were listening. He then stepped closer to his engine and dropped his voice. "Do you have to be so crass all the time?"

"It brings me joy watching you squirm, boy." Scotsman growled with a toothy grin. "What happened to your yellow-haired lad? Grow tired of cock, did you?"

Hayden made a flurry of odd gestures in an attempt to silence his engine. "You have to be quiet about that, Scot! That sort of thing may be fine in your world but in my world I can be thrown in jail for it. Have you forgotten?"

"Well that's a pity," Scotsman huffed, he looked away disgusted. "You humans are so ignorant, why care so much about how your brothers and sisters pleasure themselves?"

"Because humans are nosy creatures, just like you lot," Hayden said with a hateful finger towards his engine. "And by the way, what do you intend to do to Emerson? I heard the whispers and Micah informed me of your little confrontation with him and Sam over Marilyn."

"I'll see to it he suffers greatly for what he did to my daughter once he's released."

"And I will see to it that you do not lay a rivet on him," Hayden hissed. "You've known Emerson for quite some time, does he really come off as the type to assault a female?"

"He comes off as the type to repeatedly undermine me and I will not have it any longer! He will be punished!" The green A4 bristled and the passengers gathered to board his coaches had begun to whisper nervously amongst each other.

Hayden looked over his shoulder at the crowd then back to his engine, he spoke ever softer at that point. "When Meredith came back I planned to panel you and forbid you from seeing her, if you'd like me to hold off on that then you will hold off on your ego-fueled justice."

Scotsman snarled smoke. "You will do no such thing!"

"I won't if you leave Emerson be!" Hayden hollered back, the murmurs behind him hushed.

The large male stared at the crowd, then at his controller. He glared hard, hoping it would somehow crush the pesky human's skull. He hated him. "Fine, I'll leave him be." Hayden nodded and went to take a step, Scotsman continued to speak and the man froze. "But should he step out of line again, I'll kill him," he paused to determine his controller's eyes were his. "And you."

The rest of the day Hayden drove Flying Scotsman in terrified silence. Gavin tried multiple times to strike up conversation but each attempt was snuffed. Eventually he grew bored and pulled a book from his satchel and stuck his nose in the ink while Hayden drove his engine. All stops went off without a hitch, passengers were satisfied despite the rocky start, but Hayden could hardly move his arms and legs by the time they returned to Victoria for Scotsman to be dismissed, but fear managed to fuel him enough to climb back down onto the platform and wave the green engine off. Scotsman left slowly with a satisfied grin, content that he no longer had to worry about his controller's grip.

"What do you mean you have to save yourself?" Cameron whimpered while he watched Meredith finish shunting the last of her freight for that morning. "That's three whole weeks with no sex, can you even do that… you little vixen?"

Meredith turned around and faced her pouty Big Boy, she kissed him on the nose. "You're cute when you whine, you know that?"

He groaned and locked her wheels onto his platform, taking her mouth despite her very minute protests, and when her lips were nice and wet he stopped, looked her in the eye. "So you'll even deny me a bite of that sweet undercarriage of yours?"

Meredith felt herself crumbling under his hooded stare. She cursed under her breath and hem-hawed for a moment. "I suppose if you're not actually fucking me."

"Only with my mouth," Cameron whispered, sending hot shivers down Meredith's body. He moved her over to a spur out of the way of any early traffic and out of sight of any younger eyes coming to the station before he rolled her all the way up onto his platform.

"I still can't seem to get used to the view up here," Meredith giggled as she stared down the length of his body and tender. "I do quite like it however, considering what it means for me."

Cameron smiled though she couldn't see, eyed the tight slit of her valve before he ran his warm, wet tongue over it as slowly as he could manage. Meredith wiggled and moaned then shut her eyes to zone out as her senses seemed to brighten with every stroke of his tongue. He picked up his rhythm and began to spread her with his mouth. While the male had hoped the oral would be enough for him, the sighs and whimpers shaking her body as he kissed on her caused the pressure in his boiler to nearly burst its seams. "Mer—" he sighed, his mouth still pressed to her sex. "Mer, I need to be inside you."

"I can't," her mouth said no, but every bit of her screamed yes.

"You can't drop that no sex bomb on me without first letting me have a farewell fuck." Cameron mumbled, huffed steam at her valve then made a decision on his own. He wiggled his fender until Meredith dropped down with a yelp and as she rolled he slipped his rod out and hooked her slit with it.

"You beast!" She spat, but the longing in her eyes betrayed the anger in her voice. Her undercarriage was on fire by that point.

Cameron smirked while he snaked himself the rest of the way into the little female. "Indeed I am," he purred then slammed her into the stops.

Suds plopped to the ballast stone from Marilyn's footboards as cleaners lathered her up for a needed detail. It was warm enough to be washed outside again and she was happy to watch the wind ripple the trees as she was scrubbed down. Her work day was long and monotonous, nothing of true excitement happened other than a passenger losing his lunch inside one of her carriage. That was enough to make her paneling crawl in disgust. It distracted enough from the rough sex of that morning, though her lip was sore from where Sam had nearly bit right through it. He had a thing for tasting her blood, and tiny scars had begun to accumulate across her delicate face because of it. She didn't mind too terribly, the licking was nice, the biting not so much.

She heard another large engine pull up beside her and hesitated to look, but when she did she was surprised to find Bittern standing there, assuming he was there for a wash as well. The young female swallowed and smiled as best she could at him. "Evening," she said. "Come to get all that salt and grime off your gears?"

"Yes," he looked at the line she was on. "I can come back when you're done."

"Oh! No, there's plenty of room," she offered with a more genuine grin. "I don't mind, it's getting late, there's no need for you to be kept up longer."

The blue A4 was apprehensive but shrugged and pulled into place in front of his superior's daughter. He tried not to look at her too much, she was very pretty, and wet.

"This isn't too intimate for you, is it?" Marilyn teased, the men began to spray Bittern down with a powerwash to break off the harder buildup along his footboards and fenders.

Bittern raised his brow and finally looked at her. "Not at all, is it for you?"

"Not at all," Marilyn repeated with a slight bat of her eyes.

The male felt himself heat up from his wheels to his funnel. Something about her seemed to hook engines in instantly, just like Meredith, regrettably he was one of the few who had never known the little tank engine.

Marilyn could tell she was beginning to get the stalwart male hot and bothered and decided to dig a little deeper. "You're very handsome, Bittern." She said, her tone whispy and seductive. "Though I've come to learn most of you A4's are. That Quicksilver, he's a real stoic brute, those are the ones to look out for—" she paused to lock eyes with Bittern. "The quiet ones."

He swallowed, his heart raced, he was one sweet word away from pinning the young female down in front of the workman surrounding them. "And why is that?"

"They're like a Rolls Royce, they don't advertise their product, but when anyone sees them on the street with the Spirit of Ecstasy perched atop their shiny bonnets they know it's peak luxury, nothing else quite like it," she made sure there were no workmen in front of her before she rolled forward into the sweating male's buffers. "I bet you ride as smooth as a Rolls too." Their mouths teased to meet and Bittern's boiler rumbled. The men around them realized what was happening and did their best to finish the wash before the two made anymore moves then scattered back to their shed to shut down for the evening once the two were well rinsed off.

Bittern couldn't help but chuckle at the humans. "Seems they don't wanna stick around."

"Mm, their loss," Marilyn mused with a soft smile. "So whatcha think, handsome, wanna let me take you for a test drive?"

"I don't do test drives," Bittern replied with a wink. "You gotta be in for the long ride."

"How long?"

He leaned closer, just enough for their lips to once again brush, he spoke soft from deep in his throat. "Long enough for you to take that whore valve back to your murderous cunt of a brother and let him ride."

Marilyn backed off immediately and stared wide-eyed at the male, his nostrils flared in anger. She tried to find something to say, but all words escaped her, instead she flipped, her eyes darkened and she slammed into Bittern with a furious snarl. He absorbed her blow with ease and grabbed her buffer pads with his. "Okay, now I'm a little turned on," he jeered with a laugh. "You've got some fire in ya, baby girl. Too bad mine's stronger." He shoved her back and into the buffer stops at the end of the spur. "You and Sam may have your father fooled, but not us," Bittern announced as he closed in on the young female, shaking from the pain in her crushed tender. "The second we prove your brother's crimes I'll have Sam's head for Kestrel and you… you will die the same way Mallard did, crushed, your face torn by my teeth."

Marilyn was mortified, she watched Bittern as he left her damaged and stranded on that siding, stuck in the dirt.

"I'll see they all rot!" Sam barked, he swung the door open to Flying Scotsman's shed, satisfied to find his father already awake, though furious he seemed. "Bittern attacked Marilyn!"

"What?!" Scotsman's firebox blew to life.

"Yes! She's headed to Doncaster as we speak, her tender is badly damaged and her front fender is bent and cracked," Sam started to reverse out the door. "I'll see they're all scrapped!"

Scotsman followed his son and did what he could to try and soothe him. Though he too was upset, he wondered if there was more to the story than an outright attack. Bittern for the most part was passive. "I'm sure there's a reasonable explanation, let's just find Bittern and the others and sort it out."

"I'll sort him out alright," Sam growled, taking point in front of Scotsman. "I'll sort it out that he has his head on a spike!"

Quicksilver and Edgar already knew to expect a gathering after Bittern was quick to inform them of the incident. They all huddled outside Doncaster in an old carriage yard just south of the works, they waited in uneasy silence until they spotted two sets of headlights coming towards them, one much faster than the other. Quicksilver recognized Sam first and moved to the front, the two collided in a shower of dust and sparks, the silver male barely able to hold off the fuming youngling. "We're here to talk!" He snapped, then rolled him back towards his father. He then glared at Scotsman. "Learn to control this boy before I do it for you!"

Scotsman moved ahead of the young male, passing him a warning glare as he did so. "He still has some rough edges I need to smooth out, he'll calm down in time."

"How am I supposed to be controlled when my sister continues to be targeted by you streamlined motherfuckers!"

"Sam! That is enough, hold your tongue or go back to your shed!"

Sam reluctantly relented to his father's demands and sat silent though he managed to find Bittern's eyes and held them like a vice.

Scotsman approached his lieutenants and their brother, he scanned Bittern for damages and only noticed a slight nick in his right buffer pad. "Sam tells me you attacked Marilyn, I'd like to believe it wasn't as simple as that, you're a smart male and seem to have a modicum of respect for females. Please explain what happened, honestly."

Bittern glanced to his brothers and they both nodded for him to give his story. The blue A4 straightened himself tall and spoke firmly and honestly. "I had gone to the wash down just south of Hitchin, Marilyn was there and offered that I join her to save my having to wait. I did so respectfully but the entire time she underhandedly propositioned me, while I appreciate her beauty and in a moment wanted to humor her, I simply couldn't bring myself to be physical with my brother's killers. I called her out on this subject and she advanced me. The damage I dealt was minimal and necessary, I do not apologize for my self-defense."

Scotsman did his best to remain calm, but the fire in his boiler threatened to burst his valves and come out his throat. "Killers?! Why, it's one thing to accuse my son but now you're slandering Marilyn as well?! Have you lost your damn minds?!"

"That girl means trouble, she fucked Kestrel and Mallard, now they're both dead, Emerson will likely follow suit given her track record. Only reason Sam hasn't keeled over yet is because he's the devil himself." Bittern stared Scotsman down the entire time he spoke, unwavering in his words and not at all willing to take any of it back. "If you have any respect for us at all you will disown these creatures and recommend their immediate removal from this railway."

The air around Scotsman's boiler warped and rippled as his entire body heated up past even what he could handle. His throat burned and his eyes watered, though he was past pain, he was boiling, ready to burn anyone within striking distance. "I trusted you, for all these years I trusted you with my life and now you repay me by trying to taint my line with your disgusting lies and accusations?! No, I will not disown them and I will not have them removed. Bittern, you consider yourself lucky I respect you enough to believe your self-defense story. Marilyn has been through a lot and I could see her lashing out after hearing such words towards her. Though I don't blame her for her attack I also don't blame you for defending yourself and I appreciate you doing so in the least destructive way possible. I will let this slide— for now. I would also urge all of you to reconsider jumping to conclusions about my children without hard evidence and the next engine to bring it up to me again with no proof in hand will meet their maker, understood?"

All the A4's glanced at each other, unsure of what to make of the turn, but soon they all quietly agreed to make no further comment on the situation involving Marilyn or Sam until they knew for certain they could make Flying Scotsman believe them.