A/N: In response to Eliot Reader's review: Michaela's livery isn't quite as silver as Spencer's—his is more of a solid color, and hers is more of a stainless steel that's so colorless, it's actually colorful (I don't know how else to explain that). If you were to watch her for long enough, you would notice that Michaela's livery is basically stainless steel-ish, but most of the time it's covered in constantly-changing rainbows. No, she doesn't have any nameplates; but yes, she might have some smart metal work. I'm not too sure what her basis is just yet, but she's definitely at least half a foot shorter than Donald and Douglas. Another thing that helps to picture Michaela is that her face is soft and innocent-looking, and she has a button nose and large dark pupils.

Michaela had been on the Island of Sodor for over a week now, and she was getting used to doing things "the Great Western way", as Duck called it. She hadn't had any accidents while shunting in the yard, such as putting things where they didn't belong by mistake, and the Troublesome Trucks were getting somewhat easier for her to handle.

*"Michaela, teach us a new song to sing today!" called some trucks that she was lining up that morning.

The iridescent engine chuckled and thought for a moment. "Alright, but only once I have you all together and ready for when the time comes for you to go."

The last two Troublesome Trucks scoffed from where they sat on a different track. "No, no, no! Teach us right now!"

Michaela frowned and went to push them onto the track with the others, but they put their brakes on and wouldn't budge. She finally rolled back and pretended to go do something else. "Alright, well… No new song for you, then."

"No, no, wait!" the two trucks called.

She smiled and pushed them over to the rest of the trucks. "Alright, I've got a good one for you guys today. It goes like this…" Michaela closed her eyes.

"Patience is a virtue

So it never hurts to

Take a little time to see

Sir Low… Sir… uh…"

She stopped. "I'm sorry… I don't remember what that fat guy's name is."

Just then, Michaela heard a car door slam nearby, and she turned to see the Fat Controller walking towards her. She smiled. "Oh, wait, I think I know what it is! Sirloin Hatt!"

Oliver burst out laughing from somewhere nearby as he entered Arlesburgh Yards, and Michaela groaned. "Why can't I get it right?!"

The Fat Controller coughed into his fist. "It's actually… Sir Topham Hatt, Michaela."

"R-right…" she stammered. "Sir Topham… Hatt."

He made a dismissive gesture with his hand. "Anyways, Michaela, I've come to see how you're doing, and aside from mixing up my name, it seems you're really getting the hang of things on the Little Western."

Michaela smiled nervously. "Yes sir, and I'm having such a wonderful time, too. I've been teaching the Troublesome Trucks how to sing, sir."

"Really?" Sir Topham raised an eyebrow in surprise. "I'd like to hear it sometime, but I have other things on my schedule for today. Which reminds me… Now that you've gotten used to your surroundings on this branch line, I have an assignment for you.

"You see, although you're a special kind of tender engine that's meant for shunting, sometimes I send engines to do other jobs when certain engines aren't available to do them, or if I think they need to be taught something. In this case, I want you to get used to the other areas of Sodor.

"So I want you to take these trucks here—" he gestured to the Troublesome Trucks that Michaela had been shunting, "—and drop them off at Brendam Docks, then take another train of goods that'll be waiting there right back here to Arlesburgh."

Michaela stared for a few seconds as she processed what the Fat Controller had said. Then she jumped. "Really? Me? Leave the Little Western and go somewhere else?"

"Yes you, Michaela. And don't you worry; it'll only be to the place where you first arrived on the island and back."

"W-wow…" Michaela honestly didn't remember the way back, but she knew that Sir Topham Hatt was counting on her to be a Really Useful Engine. She put on a solemn face. "I'll go as soon as I have these last few trucks ready for Donald and Douglas to take."

"Right." The Fat Controller turned to leave, then he looked back at Michaela. "Uh, you remember, now… it's Sir. Topham. Hatt. Alright?"

"Okay." Michaela repeated his name several times as she watched him leave, then she went back to teaching the Troublesome Trucks the new song as she shunted some other trucks into another line.

By the time the Scottish twins showed up for their next delivery, Michaela had already taught the Not-So-Troublesome-Anymore Trucks the first verse to their new song.

"Patience is a virtue

So it never hurts to

Take a little time to see

Sir Topham Hatt has taught you

And you know you ought to

Be as patient as can be

Happy waiting patiently."

Although Donald appeared to enjoy their singing, Douglas wasn't feeling too happy that morning. In fact, he wasn't happy at all.

"How are you feeling today, Douglas?" Oliver asked as he approached him.

"Och, fine, except fer this boiler-ache that comes an' goes," the Scottish engine replied.

Just then, his twin puffed up next to him, and Douglas rolled his eyes.

"Here it comes agin…"

Michaela started to teach the trucks the next verse to the song, and Douglas groaned as he backed up in front of his train to be coupled up to it. "Michaela, can ye an' th' trucks stop singin' fer jist yin minute until ah'm gone?"

The iridescent engine complied when she realized what he had said, and her eyes trailed to the ground. "Oh, okay… s-sorry…"

Donald backed in front of Douglas to be coupled up to his brother. "Och, dinnae pay any attention tae Douggie; he's jist in another bad mood today."

Douglas inhaled sharply as he glared at his twin. "'Jist in another bad mood today?' Ah am verra tired, because ye kept me up all night talkin' about shooting stars after ye thought ye saw yin!"

Donald immediately snapped back, "Ah did see a shootin' star last night! An' ye kept yerself up last night tryin' tae prove me wrong, more like!"

Michaela watched them argue with visible concern on her face. "Um, guys? H-hello…"

Douglas bumped into Donald from behind. "Nae true! Ye kept me up!"

Donald reversed into Douglas. "Nae, ye kept yerself up!"

"Nae, ye did!"

"Nae, ye did!"

Michaela backed away and watched them helplessly from a short distance. Oliver was shunting some cars onto the track next to her and noticed the look on Michaela's face as her eyes darted anxiously back and forth between the twins.

"Oh, don't worry. It happens all the time," Oliver explained.

Michaela glanced back at the twins, who were still hitting into each other with every accusation that came out of their mouths.

"Ah told ye already!" Douglas was saying to Donald. "Th' only wish ah'd ever make is tha' there'd be nae more shootin' stars tae make wishes on! They're a waste o' time!"

Donald bumped into Douglas. "But tha's a waste o' wishes!"

"...Seriously?" Michaela asked Oliver.

"Yeah. They'll get over it soon enough; they always do."

"How long is 'soon enough'?"

"Um… maybe a day. Give or take. Anyways, it'll be fine… so long as they manage to get their jobs done without any confusion and delay."

The iridescent engine's eyes flicked back to Donald and Douglas.

"Anyway, ye shouldnae have said tha' tae Michaela! Ye ken that singin' is th' yin thing tha' keeps the lassie calm an' happy when she's working!"

"Och aye, an' ye ken that ah need mah sleep if ye want me tae be able tae tolerate her singin'!"

Michaela popped her lips and went to be coupled up to the freight cars that needed to be taken to Brendam Docks. "Okay then. I will just… go do what Sir Top Hat asked me to do. Leave them to sort it out among themselves…"

And with that, she puffed away, leaving the Scottish twins to fight with each other in the shunting yard.

The two brothers finally stopped arguing after a few minutes, just long enough to get moving and take their trucks along the main line. After several moments had passed in silence between them, Donald spoke up. "Ye ken, Douggie, Michaela looked verra sad when ye told her tae stop singin'."

Douglas sighed. "Ah ken, Donnie. So whit?"

"Ye should apologize tae her."

The younger twin's voice trailed off as he spoke. "Ah suppose so…"

Donald rolled his eyes, agitated by his brother's behavior, but didn't say anything else.

Michaela wasn't sure if she was going the right way, but every time she asked her driver, Kennet kept telling her that they were on the right track to Brendam Docks.

As she puffed along, the Troublesome Trucks burst out into song, singing the second verse of the song that Michaela had tried to teach them earlier.

"Don't get too excited

Just try staying calm

Thinking for a minute

Saves you so much harm."

"Michaela, what's the next part?" several of them asked.

The iridescent engine kept her eyes on the rails. "I'm sorry… I just don't feel like singing right now."

"Aww…" they all complained in unison.

Michaela was still as silent as ever on her way back from Brendam Docks.

"Hey girl, what's the matter?" Kennet asked when they had passed through Wellsworth. "Usually you're always singing when you're not talking to someone."

She sighed. "If my singing is bothering people, then they don't need to hear me."

He leaned out of her cab and patted her side. "Come now, you're not still thinking about what Douglas said to you earlier, are you? I'm sure he didn't mean it like that."

Before Michaela could answer, she suddenly heard the voice of another engine singing nearby. As she rounded the bend she saw Donald puffing along by himself without a care in the world.

"Should auld acquaintance be forgot

And never brought tae mind?

Should auld acquaintance be forgot

And auld lang syne?"

Michaela shyly pulled up next to him and listened to him singing until he finally noticed her.

"Och, Michaela! Whit are ye doin' here, lassie?"

She avoided eye contact with him as she spoke. "The Sir Topham guy sent me to Brandon Docks so I could get used to the rest of Sodor."

"Ye mean 'Brendam' Docks? Aye, tha's a good place tae git used tae as any on the Island o' Sodor." Donald's voice grew softer. "By th' way… Ah'm sorry about whit happened earlier with me an' mah brother, especially when Douggie told ye tae stop singin'. Did he apologize tae ye yet?"

"No…" she responded after Kennet had translated for her.

Donald looked upset, then he took a deep breath and tried to smile at Michaela. "Ye ken… believe it or nae, when Douggie's in a good mood, he likes tae sing, too."

Michaela braked for a split-second with surprise. "What? Really?"

"Aye. He's verra good at it, tae, but he doesnae believe me when ah tell him tha'."

The iridescent engine smiled a little as Kennet translated the last few words for her, then she perked up as a thought occurred to her. "Donald…? Could you teach me the song that you were singing just now?"

He beamed. "Of course, lassie!"

Douglas puffed into the Arlesburgh shunting yard, upset with his twin for making him be the one to take the next goods train that was headed for Arlesburgh. He knew why Donald had told him to do it, but he wasn't ready to face Michaela just yet. Sure, Douglas was still upset with his brother for keeping him up late the night before, but now he realized that he shouldn't have lashed out at Michaela earlier. He just wasn't sure how to say it at the moment.

Douglas tried to drop off the flatbeds and leave before the iridescent tender engine could spot him, but just then he heard a female voice singing quietly from somewhere nearby. The Scottish engine moved silently through the yard until he saw her organizing the trucks by herself in a corner.

Michaela didn't seem to notice him as she gently pushed a sleeping truck next to another and sang a tune that he was all too familiar with.

"We two have run about the hills

And picked the daisies fine

But we've wandered many a weary foot

Since auld lang syne."

Douglas listened in surprise as she sang the chorus to "Auld Lang Syne" with perfect pitch. Every note Michaela sang was spot-on and beautiful—it was truly music to his ears.

Michaela switched onto another track and went to push some regular trucks into a line. Douglas noticed, for the first time, that when Michaela's buffers met those of the trucks, she winced at the contact. It was barely noticeable, but she did it, and Michaela didn't look comfortable at all when it happened.

She's sensitive tae bein' touched, he realized. Nae jist that, but when ah told her tae stop singin' earlier… She's verra sensitive in general. All of a sudden, Douglas felt awful.

Michaela looked up when she saw the Scottish engine approach her. "Oh… h-hi."

Douglas wasn't really sure what to say, so he asked her, "Where did ye learn tha' song?"

Michaela avoided eye contact with him and rolled back and forth a little. "I heard Donald singing it and asked him to teach me the words."

Again, Douglas wasn't sure how to go about this, so he decided to apologize to her later once he knew the right words to say. "Ah like it," was all that he managed to say.

And he puffed away, feeling very awkward indeed.

When Michaela puffed into Tidmouth Hault Sheds later that night, Douglas was waiting for her.

"Douglas? Why are you still awake?" she asked.

He took a deep breath. "Michaela, ah'm sorry about whit ah said tae ye earlier today. Ah didnae mean fer ye tae stop singin' at all… In fact, ah really like hearin' ye sing." Douglas winked. "Particularly when ah'm in a good mood."

For the first time since earlier that morning, Michaela smiled wide and felt very happy. "It's okay. I know you were just tired, and you're not the first person I met that ever got upset when they didn't get enough rest."

Douglas smiled back, and the two sat in silence for a few minutes before he finally spoke up again. "Michaela…?"

"Yes?"

Douglas closed his eyes. "If ye want tae sing a song right now, ye can…"

The iridescent engine knew what he was really asking and cleared her throat.

"I know how the moon must feel

Looking down from the heavens

Smiling at the silly things

We put ourselves through

Missing magic each day

And not seeing the wonder

That's how the moon must feel."

When Michaela glanced over at Douglas, he was sleeping peacefully in his berth next to her. She smiled to herself and continued to sing.

"I know how the moon must feel

When he makes someone happy

That's the feeling I will feel

When you smile at me

I'll be floating on air

I'll be beaming with wonder

That's how the moon must feel."

When the sun rose the next day, Michaela yawned and opened her eyes to find Douglas watching her with a shy smile.

"Good mornin' tae ya. How did ye sleep last night?"

She squinted as her eyes adjusted to the light outside. "Not as well as I hoped, actually…"

Douglas's smile fell. "Och, really?"

"Yeah. Somebody kept me up all night because they were **sleep-whistling."

All the other engines in the shed immediately began to blame each other.

"It wasn't me. Must've been Duck."

"Actually, I'm pretty sure it was you, Oliver!"

"Nae, it was ye, Donnie."

"Douggie, everybody knows it wasnae me! It was ye!"

Michaela struggled to keep in her laughter as Kennet and Sam arrived and began to get her fire going. She didn't really care who had done it, just so long as she was in a good mood for the rest of the day—and she was.

A/N: And so it begins... The ship between Michaela and Douglas, that is.

*Michaela's strategy for handling the Troublesome Trucks is very similar to that of Salty's, and that would be by singing.

**Sleep-whistling is basically the engines' version of snoring.