Thanks to RosieAngelina for reviewing!
And cue the theme!
...
You know, I'm curious, were you actually there on the Island of Sodor?
That, sir, is for me to know and you to toss and turn in your bed over.
Riiiight. Shall we?
We shall.
...
Thomas sat at the very edge of Knapford Station. He was waiting at a junction for the signal to turn down. He was still in a rather brittle mood after his previous two escapades, and had taken to replacing his cigarettes with muttering wildly under his breath about just what he would do to snow if he saw it again. A bus suddenly pulled forward, ignoring the other bus that was staying in the shed, sulking.
"Hello." said Thomas, a bit put out over the way that the bus was examining him. "Who are you?"
"I'm Bertie." said the bus, with a vague hint of a accent in his voice. He was still examining Thomas, as if judging him. "Who are you?"
"I-" said Thomas, pulling himself up to his full height and hoping to gain some sort of respect in the eye of at least one non-roadian. "-AM THOMAS. I run this branchline!" He mentally noted to ask the engines to pay a toll each time they approached one of his stations.
"So you're Thomas?" Bertie said, languidly. "I remember you now. You got stuck in the snow." Thomas's smile fell, and his mood rapidly became as black as Marklin's paintwork. "I took your passengers and Terrance the Tractor pulled you out. I've come to take your passengers today."
Bertie was well versed in Thomas's history. For saying that so soon after a humiliation was akin to waving a red bus at a bull. The other bus widened his eyes at this, and he raced off to search for Marklin, to inform him.
"HELP ME!?" raged Thomas, as if seeing some insult to his enginehood. "I can go faster than you!"
"You can't." said Bertie.
"I can!" puffed Thomas.
"I'LL RACE YOU!" said Bertie, quickly maneuvering in at this opportunity to test his might. Bertie, you see, was something of a expert at this. So far, he had successfully challenged several other vehicles to races. And he had won. Now he wanted to see if he could beat the best example of the most dominant species on the Island.
Their drivers agreed to the race going ahead, for they were bored and rather wanted to liven things up. The Passengers shrugged and said "Whatever." and the Station Master agreed only to help if they made sure to keep his name out of any discussion with the Fat Controller. He said "Are you ready? ...GO!" He didn't have a starting pistol, so he just made a gun noise.
"GOOD LUCK LOSER!" called Bertie as he took off. Thomas glared in anger and followed after him as quickly as he could, with both Annie and Clarabel looking at each other in fear of what the hell was going to happen to them. He could never go fast at first, and Bertie drew in front.
"Why don't you go fast? Why don't you go fast?" hissed Annie and Clarabel. Thomas thought this rather hypocritical, but bit down his tongue. It hurt.
"Wait and see! Wait and see!" he said as he drew under the bridge used in the intro.
"He's a long way ahead!" They wailed, but Thomas didn't mind. He had remembered the level crossing.
...
There was Berite, fuming at the gates! Behind his smile of course. "CURSES!" proclaimed the bus. "FOILED!"
"SEE YOU AT THE END, LOSER!" howled Thomas in triumph as they sailed gaily through. "Bye Bye Bertie!" Clarabel added to his humiliation by blowing a large raspberry at the bus. Bertie grit his teeth, waited for the crossing gates to open and then raced on to catch up.
After that, the road left the rails, so they couldn't see Bertie. Bertie himself was going as fast as he could and narrowly avoided sending a Taxi containing the former Mrs Hatt off the side of the road.
Thomas, meanwhile, had pulled into Dryaw quickly. They had to stop to let off passengers. "Peep peep! Quickly please!" barked Thomas Word had gotten through the grapevine, and the passengers on the station were ready to leap in. As Thomas slowed to a stop momentarily, and stared at the plane in the airfield that was practicing for it's big moment, the guard whistled and he took off again. "Come along, come along!" he sang.
"We're coming along, we're coming along!" chanted Annie and Clarabel. Annie was in charge of making sure that Thomas was going well enough, and Clarabel was watching out for Bertie, and for once, Thomas wasn't needing his cigarettes, the sheer exhilaration was enough! He pulled off onto a little known track onto Lower Arlsbrough, causing a tram engine to stare in bafflement as a Steam Engine puffed through the station without stopping.
"Well blow me down!" said the tram engine.
"Hurry hurry hurry!" panted Thomas, his face turning red. Then he looked ahead as he pulled back onto his branchline. There, ahead, was the bridge. And on it was Bertie, gleefully laughing and tooting triumphantly. "Oh dearie me, oh dearie me!" groaned Thomas, he wanted to say much less nice things, but already he was panting and sweating.
They pulled along the Windmill, and Allcroft nudged Mitton as they passed. Grabbing their camera, they took another video for the intro. But what they didn't caputre was the dialogue.
"I...I can't-" Thomas coughed. He felt ill, the trouble done to his boiler was coming back to haunt him.
"Steady Thomas!" said his driver. "We'll beat Bertie yet!" The Fireman shook his head, and the driver clocked him in the face to be more supportive.
"We'll beat Bertie yet! We'll beat Bertie yet!" echoed his coaches. Thomas focused ahead and growled through the pain.
"We'll do it! We'll do it!" They turned the corner and- "OH BALLS. THERE'S A STATION!" They pulled into Elsbridge and Thomas wheezed in agony. As the passengers climbed out, some looking rather ill, his driver raced to the water tower, now put back into order.
And then Thomas heard Bertie, who was lounging up on the side of the bank of grass. "Goodbye Thomas. You must be tired. Can't stop, we buses have to work you know!" And he left with smugness.
"You-" Thomas was so out of breath that he couldn't muster a insult. "Oh dear!" he howled. "We've lost! I'm sure of it! WE'RE DAMNED!"
The driver paused, and then grinned. "You'll like this." he promised. As he connected the pipe up, Thomas frowned at the feeling. It was...it was...
"ALCOHOL!" he cried in joy. He felt much better after his drink. The signal dropped and he was off. "HURRAH! WE'RE OFF! HURRAH! WE'RE OFF!" He called. Several neighbors rushed to complain about the noise.
Nothing happened until they reached the River Els, and even as Thomas grimaced in memory of what had happened, he heard a impatient "Honk Honk!" and there, fuming with rage, was Bertie, staring down a traffic light. He watched as Thomas passed him once more. The light turned green, and he started with a roar as he chased after Thomas.
But even as they passed Terrance's field, Thomas now reached his full speed. He put on more and more of it, causing Clarabel to whoop with glee and even Annie cracked a smile. Bertie tried hard but Thomas was too fast. He took off, racing towards the Hackenback Tunnel, and imagining that he was plowing through snow, Thomas raced on through, whistling into the tunnel triumphantly as he plunged in. Bertie was left far behind, panting up the hill desperately.
"I'VE DONE IT! I'VE DONE IT!" panted Thomas.
"You've done it hooray! You're done it hooray!" cheered Annie and Clarabel.
"WE ARE SO FIRED! WE ARE SO FIRED!" screamed the fireman, as they reached the last station and braked to a stop. Seconds later, a very stunned Bertie joined Thomas.
Everyone was there to celebrate Thomas's victory, but they gave Bertie a cheer too. Bertie sighed. If nothing, he was a graceful loser. "Well done Thomas." He said through gritted teeth. "That was fun. But to beat you over that hill, I'd have to grow wings and become a airplane!"
Thomas laughed despite himself, then instantly demanded that his pipe be prepared for him.
...
They now keep each other very busy. They often talk about their race, and Bertie can often be seen mouthing the words 'rematch soon, old chum'. Both are now good friends, though they'd kill you if they mentioned it. But Bertie's passengers don't like being bounced like peas in a frying pan, and the Fat Controller has warned Thomas not to race at dangerous speeds. For fear that his ex-wife would kill him.
So although they'd like to have another race, I don't think they will, do you?
...
Elsewhere, Marklin nodded as the Other Bus told him everything. He ordered the other bus away, and turned to look at the three main engines, who were looking angry and ranting about Thomas.
"This-" he said. "-should be interesting. Maybe I too shall get my own branchline, ya?" He sighed. "Just got to sit back...and watch the firevorks.