Duck fumed agitatedly as he crushed his scone in his palm. Gordon, taller by several inches peered down at him through a disapproving gaze.

"I'm merely saying Duck, that perhaps you Westerners wouldn't have so much trouble if you drive proper engines."

Red in the face, Duck needed to be held back under the arms by Percy who was struggling from the sheer willpower of Number 8's driver.

On the number two platform at Tidmouth Station the three had a momentary pause in their work as up the mainline a loose flock of sheep had strayed onto the line. Duck and Percy had stopped for a quick bite when Gordon had braked to the station in a huff at having been delayed. To better his mood, the Express Driver was looking for any opportunity to dispel the aggression, and Duck's recent explanation of the Little Western's exploits was just the ticket.

"I drive a perfectly proper engine! As does Oliver for that matter! It's not our fault this new crop of bussers haven't any clue for railway decorum!"

Spittle was popping from his enigmatic lips as Duck seethed in Percy's winded arms. The two weary as Percy hesitated to release his friend. Gordon sniffed.

"If you say so. It just doesn't seem very dignified to me."

"Well tell that to Oliver once he's off suspension then. He'd sure like to hear you talk him down for avoiding a near fatal crash."

Percy swiftly released Duck and stepped between the bickering duo, waving his green handkerchief wildly as he attempted a peace.

"Easy now, easy! We don't have to get personal! We've all got our work to do so why don't we focus on when we can get trains moving again!"

Gordon caught Percy's wrist, stopping the fluttering handkerchief.

"Are you a shepherd now Percy? Going to herd the flock of strays all on your own?"

Percy cocked an eyebrow. "Well I couldn't ask you to try. We all know how you handle farm animals on the line."

Gordon's face twisted in rage at being reminded of his run-in with a cow on the line several years back. He let out a sputter of profanities as he stormed his way to Number 4's cab. A tried "Disgraceful" muttered back at the two.

James tugged hard on the brake of Number 5 as the engine slammed a line of wagons into a bufferstop on an empty siding in the yard. The engine's brakes screeched as the force of the full train sent a ricochet of chained bumps along the rake. James darted his head out of the cab angrily as he hollered at the workmen on the goods platform.

"Uncouple me! I've got better things to do than fuss around with freight cars!"

"Well well well, King James is all a-bothered about doin' werk tha's beneath 'im. Cryin' shame i'nae Donnie?"

James cracked his neck from the whiplash of turning to see the Scottish twins lounging by the water tower. Just in time to hear Donald's reply.

"Heartbreakin' Dougie! Simply heartbreakin'! Oh tha' I were a better person I migh' go an' help 'im. Too bad this pie is a fineh sight than he."

Donald took a massive mouthful of shepherd's pie from his lunch pail as Douglas held his gut shaking with laughter. James was about to retort when the workman called back to him.

"All uncoupled your majesty."

The workman curtsied while the twins fell over themselves laughing. James, as red as Number 5, lobbed a chunk of coal from the tender at the two brothers. Missing dreadfully the two composed themselves and stood, hands on hips in a haughty demeanor.

"Nae Tha's no very nice King James."

"Yeh cannae be treatin' yehr subject like tha! Bound to cause a revolt!"

"God save the king."

"GOD SAVE THE KING!"

The two bowed low as the two exploded into laughter once again. James pulled the reverser hard in Number 5 causing a momentary wheel slip before it began backing out of the yard.

"Dinae fas yehrself James. We're only jokin'" Donald cried out.

"A little bit tha is!" Douglas chimed in.

James leaned out the cab, cupping a hand to his mouth.

"Well I'll tell you—"

"Hello James!"

"GET OUT OF MY FACE!"

James was started as he turned over his shoulder and saw Emily passing in Number 12 along his side. He'd directed his last words unintentionally at her in his heightened state of emotion.

"A right good morning to you to then." Emily jabbed as she flipped her hair in indignation, allowing her engine to glide past James without another word.

James stood flummoxed in his cab as his engine lazily continued backwards up the line.

"Wotcher old man! Catch!"

Rosie tossed a box of tea bags to Edward as he walked into Wellsworth's break room. The two were taking their lunch before returning to shunting the incoming goods from the harbor this afternoon.

"Rosie, wash your hands, they're absolutely filthy."

Edward smiled firmly as Rosie rolled her eyes and went to the sink. Her skin tinted several shades darker by the soot of the firebox, ebbed away in the running water at the counter sink. She hated when he was right.

"Happy now sir"

"It's for your own good. No mineral poisoning on my watch."

Edward dabbed his tea bag nonchalantly as he took his seat before the poured cup Rosie had already prepared for him.

"Thank you by the way. I appreciate this."

He gestured at his cup and Rosie grinned through her dismay at his early bereavement of her hygiene.

"Happy to help. Do you have a moment Edward, I need to ask you something."

He'd been reaching for the daily paper across the table before retracting it in attentiveness.

"Of course! Ask away."

Rosie sat opposite, her tea bag sat unused by her cup of steaming water as she tugged nervously at the deep red handkerchief tied around her neck.

"How– I don't want ter come off in the wrong way Edward, but how…"

She trailed off embarrassed. Edward, completely taken aback, stared at her intensely. However when he prompted her his words word gentle and encouraging.

"It's alright. It takes a lot to put me off."

He chuckled slightly which seemed to relax Rosie into a place of more complacency. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, exhaling through her mouth before resuming her eye contact. Determined flickers of ambition dancing in her irises.

"Fine then, I'll spit it out. How does someone like me take over your branchline."

Edward didn't react, but he was caught off guard. The silence between them was palpable. Rosie's bravado shirked as her next words didn't command the same confidence as before.

"That is to say, when the time comes, how do I ensure I can be front runner to succeed you?"

Edward felt more relieved by this rephrasing. This wasn't a usurp, but guidance for apprenticeship. He scolded himself mentally at having his doubts and let a kind grin surface as he picked his next words with care.

"Rosie you are already going above and beyond what is expected for a branchline operator."

Edward took a sip of his tea. From over the brim of his cup he could see Rosie still didn't seem satisfied. Replacing his cup on the tea plate, he cleared his throat and continued.

"What I mean is, you need to continue the effort. Reliability and genuine investment go a long way. With the twins now handling freight and you running 37 as pilot, I'm able to upkeep passenger services for the Suddery branch. But that's really all I do. Our branchline is a team effort. Same goes for Thomas' Ffarquhar line. Without Toby, Mavis, and Percy all doing their fair share, the entire section of the railway would be useless."

Rosie's brow furrowed as she contemplated this. She could tell Edward was dancing around her real question. She plucked her tea bag off the table and dabbed it intentionally in her cup, eyes pressed on the center of her rippling beverage. Edward took another sip, patiently awaiting her response.

"You're right. And I really appreciate you saying that… But Edward, you just proved my point. Thomas' branchline, Edward's branchline. Each stretch of track has a driver and engine of notoriety that identifies it…. How can I get there?"

Edward snorted into his tea. It all made sense now. She was looking for a legacy, namesake. Not necessarily a change in jobs. As much as he'd be happy to let her manage passenger services, it seemed she was after something a bit less tangible.

"If it was a matter of inheritance or succession, then this branchline would be all yours." Edward laughed. He replaced his cup and continued on. "But I'm not sure that's how it works."

"Well then how does it work?"

Edward scratched his chin mindlessly, his eyes closed in thought before meeting her anxious gaze.

"I haven't a clue."

"...what?"

"I'm really not sure Rosie. You can see the connection between the lines being identified by the engine and driver who see the most people through commuter trains, but even when I'm doing goods work I guess I don't lose my branchline. I just don't think I have an answer for you."

"BUT YOU'RE OLD! You're supposed to know!"

Rosie clapped her hands to her mouth as Edward roared with laughter. Lightly pounding his fist on the table as he doubled over in unabashed glee.

"Edward I'm so so–"

"Don't you even! I needed that!"

The man wiped a rogue tear away from the corner of his eyes as he smiled to Rosie.

"Being old doesn't mean you know everything." Just that you don't have as many chances to learn it all."

Rosie propper her head on her arm as it rested on the table. Her other hand lazily running the spoon in her cup undisturbed around the rim of her tea. Her entire worldview shook.

"Then what's the good of getting older?"

Edward let out a long sigh before picking back up his cup, anticipating a sip.

"You get branchlines named after you."

Night fell hard on the mainland. Dark billowing clouds shielded the light from the moon as shadows from the enclave of trees above the smelters yard cast long disturbing shadows. The only break in the darkness harrowing from a dimly lit oil lamp sat in the middle of a hidge-podge campsite. An old apple crate acted as seating as the owner of the camp peered over the shrubbery nearby. Vigilantly watching the workmen walking up and down the line of warped metal machines at attention on the sidings. Marking paints in hand they designated specific options for each individual engine with an undetermined fate.

Apprehensively, eyes watched as one of the workmen scrawled in chicken scratch on the side of a boiler with burst superheating tubes.

'Scrap'

Y'all gotta stop! You're too nice! Reviews the same day the chapter is posted is some kind of privilege for sure! Glad to see you're well Kudo Yuichi and FurryFoxFires ! It was lovely to see responses from you!

I'm glad I'm past the pleasantries of introductions for this story and can start really fleshing out concepts I've had in my docs for months at this point! Going to be getting some new characters soon and expounding on the arcs of others'.

As always, thank you everyone for reading =) I always appreciate it. All the best! -REN