I would like to thank all my readers and reviewers! You guys are awesome and I hope you're enjoying the story! Next episode is going to be a bit less comedic, mostly because I really want to adapt Escape well. It's one of my favorites, and I hope you all enjoy it! But firstly, let's take a gander at Tender Engines.

Cue the theme!

...

One morning, Gordon was in the yard taking on a large supply of coal. The smell of burning harbor had yet to die down fully, which meant that he had a clothes-peg clamped firmly down upon his nose. It made him look somewhat ridiculous.

Gordon was aware that he probably didn't need as much coal as he was taking, but he felt as though he deserved it. His raise had been cancelled after a brief incident between him and the Scottish twins (the less said about which the better) and taking this coal made him feel better. He was, in engine terms, comfort eating.

"That's the third load of coal you've had today Gordon!" James scolded. "You're getting fat! You greedy guts!"

"You're on your second load." Gordon grunted. "You don't get to talk about being greedy."

"I have to keep this figure up! My body is a temple!"

"Temple of doom, maybe. Besides, I'm a actually important engine who does important things. I don't keep looking in the mirror every time it feels like one of my amethysts is coming loose. But then, I suppose if you would understand the burdens that have been placed upon my...buffers."

"Well at least I'm not fat." muttered James as he huffed away, going about his work.

"At least I'm not pulling trucks today."

"GOD DAMN IT!"

Gordon chuckled, and reveled in the small victory.

...

He didn't have long to feel good about himself. Arriving briefly at another one of the yards, he was dismayed to discover that the water towers were out of order again. The excuse given was that someone had decided that the most recent water supply was a toilet and had...er...well, let's not go into details. Suffice to say no one was keen to use the water towers until a clean supply could be established, and thus Gordon took on water from a stand-pipe.

Edward whistled to him, and Gordon half-heartedly whistled back. His clothes peg had left him in some pain.

"I wouldn't drink too much of that water if I was you!" Duck suggested, innocently. "Might give you boiler ache. Or...well, more than usual."

"PAH!" Gordon snarled, aware that getting sassed by Duck this early in the morning was something that happened to very unlucky engines indeed. "Is this 'Educating Gordon' day!? First James, now you Duck! Big engines have big needs, and little engines are...well, they're just annoying! Bog off!"

"Don't say I didn't warn you!" mocked Duck, as he hurried away. He had drunk too much the night before (alcohol, that is) and was thus a little bit giggly. It wasn't very dignified but he wanted to live a little.

...

Educating Gordon Day continued throughout the rest of Gordon's journey. The Scottish Twins ranted to him about the previous night, Percy snuck in a few taunts as he shunted Gordon's coaches and even Thomas, who Gordon hadn't even insulted, off-handedly mentioned how Daisy had gotten herself a new boyfriend since they'd last seen her.

So Gordon steamed into the yard near the Big Station, determined to get a quiet moment to himself and enjoy some peace for a change. Percy whistled to him, and Gordon let loose a whistle blast that he hoped contained all of the pent up anger that he had experienced throughout the day.

And then he spotted something odd.

Two green tenders, with no engine in sight, poking out of one of the sheds. They almost looked like Flying Scotsman's tenders, but that couldn't be it. The Fat Controller would have told him, so they could hang out and do brotherly things.

Like listen to everyone extol his older brother's virtues, and see everyone demand Scotsman's autograph, and be left alone at the end of the night with the bill while the Flying Scotsman went off with his groupies.

Gordon was a little bitter towards his brother, in case you couldn't tell.

"That's what I need." Gordon remarked to no one in particular. "Now if I had two shiny tenders, I wouldn't need to stop so often, and I'd probably be beating off girls with a stick! No more listening to silly little engines if that was the case!"

"Those tenders belong to a visitor." remarked his driver. "Apparently we're not allowed to talk to him right now."

"Why? It looks just like Flying Scotsman!"

"He's ill." The driver remarked, feeding Gordon the excuse cooked up by the Fat Controller.

"Huh. His head's probably too swollen for him to do any proper work, thanks to all that praise he keeps getting." He glanced back and groaned. "Oh terrific. As if my day couldn't get any better!"

Diesel,, waiting for the boat to take him back to the Other Railway, sidled up alongside him. He smirked that oily smirk of his and glanced at the tenders with something akin to disgust. "Everyone knows that tenders are a mark of distinction, Gordon. And of the old ways that need to be torn down so that the progressive future may take hold."

"Have you been listening to more of those bloody Bolshevik engines again?" Gordon remarked. "I keep telling you, they don't really have the faintest idea of what they're talking about."

"I'm afraid that there are no amount of tenders that'll save you in the end. One tender, two tender, you'll be dragged away none the less."

"You know I'd trust you more on that score if you didn't say that every time you met a steam engine-"

"Remember the London and North Eastern Railway? All it's regions have effectively been modernized. The same goes for the London Underground, and for nearly every other line running up and down the length of the UK. Dare I mention how quickly the US has managed to overhaul their railways? Face it Gordon, this Island is living on borrowed time, and trust me, you'll be one of the first to go. Fastest and best, and pulls the express? Only one of those is true, and not for very long. We're taking over, and we don't need tenders to make us feel important."

As Diesel oiled away, Gordon couldn't help but feel depressed.

...

He felt the same the next morning, and therefore was a easy target by some of the other engines. They were really just trying to tease him back into cheering him up a bit, but it didn't help.

Though they probably would have done better if they hadn't brought Henry along. Henry, who had had to listen to Gordon's constant mood swings and angry rants for the past ten years or so. The fact that he constantly flipped back and forth between being a nature lover and a arrogant git was lost upon the big green engine.

"I'm not happy." Gordon grunted.

"You amaze me." muttered Thomas as he shunted some coaches together.

"I know, it's boiler ache!" Duck remarked brightly. Donald laughed as he puffed past, putting Gordon in a foul mood.

"It's NOT boiler ache, you silly little quacker! It's the realization of the awful truth about life and how one day all of us will end on the scrapheap!" Gordon wailed. He had not had his disposition brightened when he had looked in the paper and seen a article about a new type of engine, referred to only as a 'electric' engine. More competition was not what they needed right now.

"Of course it is!" Henry said, chirpily. "That water's terrible for you! Your boiler must be full of sludge! Have a good wash down, you'll feel a different engine!"

"And you'd know, wouldn't you?" Gordon muttered darkly. "I mean being so ill all the time. If we did have boiler sludge, we probably caught it off you."

"Oi! Cheeky."

"I've got work to do, I can't talk to little prats like yourselves!" Gordon glared at Henry. "And don't be so vulgar! I really don't need you, of all people, being on the moral high ground about my health!" And he backed down furiously into Tidmouth Station, leaving Henry to snicker away.

Duck was concerned though, despite his gentle teasing. He resolved to talk with Diesel later on.

Besides, he already had some idea of what he was going to do to break the ice.

...

"Hi Edward."

"Hey Gordon." Edward glanced to the big engine, and noticed the down expression of his face. "Why so glum?"

"Edward." Gordon sighed. "Do you think I'm...arrogant?"

Edward was immediately struck by the fact he appeared to be somewhat trapped with regards to giving a answer. Say yes, and Gordon's feelings would be hurt even more, especially given how much time it taken for them to build up a friendly relationship since the last series. Say no, and Gordon could probably tell whether or not he was lying.

He stuttered. "Er, well, I mean, why?"

"Because it's only just now occurred to me how out of date I am."

"What do you mean?"

"Oh, you know. Steam's not been the preferred choice by the world for ages now. I mean you get a couple of trains every so often in far off countries, but at the same time, our time truly has ended. The diesels are taking over."

"Not quite." Edward was disturbed by the fact that Gordon had suddenly turned into a actual thinker. Gordon had never thought on such complicated matters before. It looked like it hurt. "I mean, there are still societies set up to keep steam alive. And diesels aren't all they're cracked up to be. I heard that the electric train's making them obsolete in their own way."

"Still though..." Gordon stared off into the distance. "I feel old."

"Oh no doubt." Edward nodded. "Feeling my age now as well." The guard's whistle drew his attention. "Sorry Gordon, I have to go! We'll talk later!"

Gordon whistled halfheartedly as Edward hurried off. He hissed mournfully as he backed down onto the train. James rushed past him with another express train, and let out a mocking laugh.

This was not what Gordon needed. S

"Cheer up Gordon." said the Fat Controller, who feared that extended company with Gordon would convince him to slit his own wrists out of sheer depression.

"Sorry, but I can't. Is it true what Diesels says?"

"Which is?"

"That diesels are taking over?"

Hatt clicked his teeth. He had hoped to spare the engines the knowledge of what was happening outside the Island, but it was becoming increasingly hard to do so. He decided to go for a brief attempt at comfort. "Don't worry Gordon, that'll never happen here. For one thing, you have any idea how costly it is having to get all those newfangled whiz kids to fork over their little toys? And then when you get them, they don't even work properly. No, steam's always going to be the best option for me, you've got no reason to panic."

Gordon nodded, deciding to drop the subject. "Just one other thing sir. This visitor who totally isn't the Flying Scotsman-"

"Sorry Gordon, due to reasons beyond our control he's still hiding in that shed like the Phantom of the Opera, and won't see anyone."

"-but why does he get two tenders again?"

"Are you seriously telling me that you have tender envy?"

"Sir, I understand that you get a lot of comments about your own weight-"

"Okay, just to end this conversation, Scotsman has two tenders because on his line, there is a long distance between coal and water depots."

Gordon looked blank.

"He's unfit."

Gordon felt much better at the problems that his brother was facing, aware that he was being the pot in the pot-kettle conversation, but not caring, he puffed off with the express train.

Hatt, meanwhile, congratulated himself on being such a wise father figure, turned around and walked into a lamp-post.

"Who put that there?!"

...

"Yes, I've just seen him at yon branch-line. Probably be heading ta the docks later." Donald rolled his eyes. "Though as ta why ye wish ta talk to him is beyond even meself."

"Well, he came over here to insult my friends for one thing." Duck smirked as Donald burst out laughing. "Yes yes, I know. But despite his arrogance, I can't help but like Gordon in a odd way. I also don't appreciate his threats. But there was something else. I just want to make sure that Marklin isn't using Diesel as a sort of cover story. I mean, really, we've let him have the run of the whole Island. I can't help but panic over the idea that he may try and talk to other diesels in the same way he did to Mavis and induce a riot."

"Aye, tis a bad thing indeed." Donald glanced back, spotting a familiar shape coming. "Ach, here comes the big green goblin."

Duck suddenly grinned mischievously, in it's self a rare sight. "Want to see how far we can trick him?"

"Percy's rubbin off on ye...let's do it!"

Henry had been complaining all morning, after briefly spotting the Scotsman hiding in his shed. Suddenly, his own jealousy and tender envy was aroused, and thus, when he banged the trucks out of the way, he was in the midst of yet another tirade, probably caused by stress and the lack of proper water. It had this effect upon engines.

"I always work hard enough for two tender engines! I deserve another tender! I deserve much more than that, but a tender will do for a start! What's that?! Speak up, it's rude to whisper in front of me! It's the law!" Duck had just whispered something to Donald, and then immediately looked innocently over. "What were you saying? An insult? Were you trying to insult me?"

"Henry, would you like my tenders?"

Henry looked at Duck for a moment. The gears in his head were certainly turning, but they weren't making the connections with that statement. At last, he spoke. "Yours? What do you have to do with tenders?"

"All right!" Duck feigned hurt. "Deal's off! I shall take my wares elsewhere to someone who wants them!" He turned to Donald. "Donald, would you like them? I get the feeling they would suit you!"

"Oh, oh tha's verra kind of ye, but I wouldnae deny ye the pleasure or deprive ye of the honor!"

"It is a great honor." Duck agreed with great solemnity. "But, I mean, I can't merely use them for myself, being only a tank engine and therefore having no need." He glanced out of the corner of his eye towards Henry, and was amused to see a look of alarm beginning to spread over his features. Now for the killing blow. "Perhaps James would-"

"I'm sorry I was rude!" Henry hurriedly remarked, terrified at the thought of James having even more ammunition to lord over him with. "How many tenders do you have exactly? And when could I have them?"

With the practice of a snake-oil salesmen, Duck considered in a flash. "Er...six, and you can have them this evening! If you're good!"

"Six lovely tenders!" Henry practically exploded with joy as he ran off, laughing.

Duck and Donald held their composure until he went around the corner, before bursting out laughing.

...

Diesel stood in the less populated area of the docks, waiting patiently. The boat would be arriving in a matter of minutes, and then he needed to get n position so that Big Mickey could lift him up.

So when he saw Duck idle up alongside him, he groaned. "Listen, if you've come to gloat-"

"I've come to ask how you are."

"Ha! There's a laugh! You don't care a jot, do you?"

"I care when you're hurting my friends. When you're insinuating that you've come here to threaten them." Diesel looked at Duck's eyes and saw only a cold disconnected glare. "When you're beginning to incite hate speech against steam engines, see that's what really getting my gander going. When you're trying to suggest that you're going to lead a army of diesels to take out my friends, when you come back here after all the shit you caused in 86, never mind that you weren't yourself back then. You threatened me in more ways than one-"

"What are you talking about?"

Duck mentally noted that it was clearly Marklin who held the relevatin about who he really was, and that Diesel absolutely had no idea. "Never you mind. So here's what you're going to do. You're going to get on that boat. You're going to go to the Other Railway, and you're going to stay there. If I see you back here ever again, if ever try and make sure that any of us on this Island are attacked, I'll make you regret that you ever put wheel to tracks."

Diesel was deathly pale.

"Now run along. I think that's your boat."

Diesel tore away and rushed to the crane.

...

All day, Henry was excited, babbling away about it to anyone who'd listen. Thomas, Annie and Clarabel, Jem Cole driving the Sodor Maid down the canal. He rushed into the yard that evening, as Duck casually rested on the turntable. "Think it'll be all right? Really?" This was the umpteenth time he had asked.

Duck grinned, making sure to keep his face hidden from Henry. "Of course! Let me take you to them!"

...

"I don't see why we have to be here." Gordon muttered rebelliously. Edward, who had been let in on the secret by Donald, merely smiled and made a noise that indicated he should watch.

James, Thomas, Donald, Douglas and Percy had all gathered around Tidmouth Station to see what was going on. They thought at one point they heard a very loud scream of outrage. The engines moved into position to get a good enough view.

Duck came first, whistling cheerfully.

Henry came second.

He did not whistle cheerfully.

He tried to ignore the sensation of just what he was actually pulling behind him, trying in vain to ignore the massive smell that arose from the six old, scrapped, dirty tenders that were filled to the brim with boiler sludge. He tried not to vomit. Laughter broke out, and he tried his best to keep calm.

"Had a wash out, Henry? You'll feel a different engine now!"

Henry wasn't sure, but he swore that this voice was Gordon's. It probably was. Karma works like that on the Island of Sodor.

...

The docks were dimmed. Workmen were still busy, but there were areas that were now almost completely devoid of any activity. This worked to Duck's advantage as he slipped into the shed and sidled up alongside the two tendered engine. "Apologies for the lateness, sir. Had to deal with making sure that Diesel got home without telling anyone."

"Not to worry. I should apologize to you, Duck. I have been later than I expected. Truro filled you in?"

"Yes sir."

"Good. Now." The Flying Scotsman's powerful face swiveled to Duck's, staring deep into his eyes "Let's talk about how the mission is progressing."