Emily found herself in a strange place, strange in that she had no idea how she got there: it was a fancy dining area, with lots of silver and gold lights.

"How did I get here?" she asked. Then she heard voices coming from another room. Curious, and desiring to see more, she steamed…

"Wait, how am I moving? I don't feel any steam in me. And where's my crew?!"

Her mind wandered to that time Jewelie had given birth. It had hurt, much more than her wheels had when they got flat tyres. The pain was hard to describe, but…the Stirling Single stopped when she saw who was speaking: a young girl who looked like a preteen version of Jewelie-maybe 9 or 10, Emily couldn't really tell-with two adults, a man and a woman. Emily was quick to notice something odd.

"Wait a minute, that man looks nothing like her dad," she said.

"Jewelie, we got a surprise for you," said the woman. "We have found you a husband. He's a Scottish baron from Stobo, and also your cousin."

"My…my cousin?" young Jewelie asked.

"Yes. He's the best fit to keep our family on top," said the man. "Remember, our family will eventually take the crown of Britain. You must marry into our noble family to further that goal."

"I think you guys are insane," remarked Emily. "Queen Victoria's dynasty will never fall. Long live Edward 10th."

Jewelie seemed uncomfortable.

"Ew! No way I'd ever marry my cousin!" she protested.

"The Spanish kings married between brothers to preserve the royal family. It's fitting we do the same."

"But I don't have a brother! And besides…"

"I will not tolerate any of this disrespect," interrupted the man. "You'll do as is required by society."

Young Jewelie, angered by the disregard her parents had of her feelings, grabbed a vase and threw it at them. It missed, but smashed into a wall!

"One of these days, I'm gonna poison both of you!" she shouted. Emily couldn't help but wonder what was going on. But she didn't have long to find out, for at that moment, the dream ended.

Jewelie woke up, scared and crying.

"Jewelie? What's wrong?" Conan asked.

"Nightmare. Just…a nightmare."

"Wanna tell me about it?" asked Conan.

"I… stood in a large, fancy house with two people I didn't know…I think I…I…I was told to marry my cousin…then….I threatened to…to….kill…" she couldn't finish at that point: she broke down in tears, hugging Conan tightly.

"Calm down. Nothing will happen to you, Jewels. Because I won't let it: anybody who intends to hurt you will have to go through me to do so."

Jewelie gripped him harder. For all his faults, he was the perfect husband for her.

Emily, meanwhile, was contemplating the dream she had as she was being steamed up for the day. It didn't add up: Jewelie had said she was the daughter of a cheerleader, but those two people in the dream didn't seem like they were cheerleaders. In fact…a sudden realisation hit Emily: she had seen Jewelie's dad once before, but the man in this dream didn't look anything like him. Could Jewelie have been adopted?

"Ouch! Watch where you're going!"

Emily was snapped out of her thoughts by Henry shouting: in her distraction, she had accidentally bumped into him.

"Sorry, Henry! I've been…distracted."

"We'll stop being distracted and…" The Green Engine began coughing before he could scold her further.

"You ok Henry? Want me to take your trains for today?" Emily asked.

"I'm fine, just…" He continued to cough, to the point where soot and ash poured out of his funnel.

"That doesn't sound like someone who's alright to me," Emily pointed out. Henry was coughing too much to reply. Arrangements were made for her to handle Henry's passenger duties while James was given his goods trains.

After that, she went back to her thoughts. The most worrying thing was those two wanting her to marry her cousin. She was horrified at the prospect of that. First off, it was incest: she didn't know much about genetics, but she did know it was disgusting. Second, she was 9 or ten years old, it wasn't right to marry somebody when they were that age. And third, she already had someone, but… Would they approve? Then again, this did occur when she was younger, before she met Conan.

"That said, the threat of poisoning…did she actually go through with it?"

It didn't sound like something Jewelie would do, but then again, Jewelie may have been desperate to get out of the situation by any means necessary. After all, who would want to marry their cousin at that age?

Unknown to her, the situation would become clearer later on.

As Jewelie arrived at Tidmouth early in the morning, aboard Thomas's first train. Her mind wasn't in the right spot, however. She couldn't focus on the instructions given to her by the Fat Director, her mind was also on that dream. She couldn't help but fear she may have murdered somebody. The guilt of such proved distracting and before long, she became snappy with anybody who wanted instructions on what they should be doing, especially when they asked her to repeat. That ended with her her having the wrong engines assigned to certain trains.

Eventually, the Fat Director realised Jewelie was stressed about something and ordered her to take a day off and visit a therapist. Jewelie tried to protest, but the Fat Director wasn't having it.

"My employees need to be focused on the task and not personal turmoil," he told her. "If something is troubling you, we mustn't allow it to get in the way of doing your job."

"Sir, I protest…"

"There are NO protests," the Fat Director said firmly.

Jewelie sighed and walked away. The Fat Director shook his head after she left: sometimes, he thought, she was too stubborn for her own good. She was an effective Shedmaster, but she had a tendency to overreact, especially when it came to personal problems.

Jewelie wasn't happy, and her anger affected not only Emily, but Stuart, who seemed to become more terrified of his mother. He began crying, which worried Conan, as he had stayed home that day to look after him and made Jewelie calm down instantly.

"Oh my god! I'm so sorry, Stuart!"

She hugged her baby and began coddling him as Stuart continued to cry.

At Wellsworth, Emily ended up trying to speak to Edward, but Dante, frustrated with being stuck where he was, cut in.

"You old bugger! That should be me on that train, not stuck banking here!"

"You earned your punishment. I'm pretty sure your partner is regretting his actions," said Emily.

"Partner? I have no idea…"

"Don't play dumb with me!" interrupted Emily. "I know full well you have a water bond: I have one too. Ever since 1915 actually."

"You..have a…"

"That's right," said Emily.

"And I used to have one too," replied Edward. "My partner committed suicide, and to this day, I wonder how I survived it. I admit, I do have suspicions he managed to sever the bond, but the fact I actually felt the stab…doesn't seem likely."

Dante rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, whatever. I don't care for you and your sob stories. I've been wondering what happened to my partner: haven't seen him for almost the whole entire year since the accident."

"Today's August the 20th…and when was your accident? March?"

"No, April, or May, I don't remember," said Dante dismissively.

"Anyways, Edward, I came here to ask you: I've had this..feeling, so to speak, that Jewelie is…adopted."

"What makes you say that?" Edward asked. Emily told the K2 about her dream. Once she finished, Edward was deep in thought.

"Considering the fact those two people did indeed look different from her dad," he said, "the fact she's adopted is indeed possible. That said, would she have been in a position to run away? I mean, if her parents really wanted it to happen…and considering her young age, she could only have gone so far."

"Yeah…but seriously, marrying her cousin?"

"It must be something rich folk do. Something about blood, I don't really know," said Edward.

Dante, meanwhile, had seemingly sneaked off with Edward's next train. His mind was on his missing partner, wondering if he had been fired for his actions.

"That'd be stupid: nobody would be that heartless, we complete each other, we're brothers. Without me, he wouldn't have gotten a wife. I was the one who made him get her, in fact."

He didn't notice he was headed down to Suddery, and that Luoc was waiting at the same station with a passenger train. By the time he realised Luoc was in the same platform as him…CRASH! Luckily, nothing was destroyed, though the guards' compartment on the rear coach was damaged greatly. Dante, perched on the coach at an awkward angle was both embarrassed and furious, while the coach he had damaged just looked confused.

"Does this count as sexual assault?" the coach asked.

"Look what you've done!" roared Luoc, ignoring the question. "Now we'll be running late, and without a private area for the guard! Ugh! The only good thing: nobody was on board."

"MY LEG!"

"You were in the bathroom stupid!" Luoc snapped to the random passenger.

Dante reversed, not finding the words to reply. Or he tried to: at the acute angle he was at, it proved impossible. Luoc had to uncouple the brake coach and get out of the way with his train, leaving Dante's front wheels off the rails. Edward soon came by with the Breakdown Train.

"You know, Dante," he said, "when I allowed you to take my train, I didn't expect you to have this sort of accident."

"Wasn't my fault! The signal was green!" Dante protested.

"Was it really? Did you SEE the signal be green?" Edward questioned.

"I did. It was," said an embarrassed signalman. "I switched it to red after Luoc passed, but for some reason, it didn't change. I must've been so busy I forgot to inform Wellsworth."

"Well, the mill is not too far away, Dante. You still want to take the flour?"" Edward asked.

"Uh…yes."

"Well, let's see how much damage you've obtained from this collision first, then we can decide."

As it turned out, he was undamaged, or at least was still able to run. He went down to Brendam to collect trucks of flour. Or at least he intended to. He was stopped by the stationmaster before he could.

At Tidmouth, the Fat Director and Lord Harwick were discussing plans with the board for another pair of stations at Tidmouth. The stationmaster then came in.

"There's been trouble at Suddery," he said. "Dante's crashed into one of the coaches on Luoc's train."

"Botheration! And we were so close to finalising plans for the new stations at Tidmouth too!" The Fat Director gave a groan of exasperation. "Right, I'll be on my way."

When he arrived, Dante wasn't very cheerful. The Fat Director listened to the Suddery Stationmaster, then spoke to his driver.

"Is there any particular reason for why you let your engine do this sort of thing?" he asked.

"Well," said the driver, "he was on his best behaviour the last couple o' weeks. Figured he…"

"Figured he what? Wait, you hesitated there. Is there something you aren't telling me?" the Fat Director asked.

"He deserved something other than shunting. He's an express engine. He told me so…no…He threatened to paint my mail black!"

"What's so bad about that?" asked the Fat Director.

"You know exactly what's bad about having mail get painted into black!" snapped the driver.

"Gee, if you were being blackmailed, you should've just said so," said the Fat Director. "Now, what was he blackmailing you with?"

Dante gulped: he knew what was coming. So he ran away.

"Wait, how is he moving without a driver?" asked the Fat Director. "Hang on, where is the fireman? Oh god. Alright, tell me what he blackmailed both of you with, driver."

"He said he'd tell the police something I did…regarding…Oh what the hell, there's no point in hiding it: I once did the daughter of a rich family, got her pregnant, then ran away here to avoid marrying her once it was known. He learned, and now I work as a replacement driver."

"Right, we'll soon put a stop to this blackmail: Dante doesn't control you, you control him. Now, you're coming with me to find Dante and you're going to yell everything you hate about him to his face."

Dante had managed to go as far as Kellsthorpe, before he ran out of coal. He had to leave the train at Wellsworth, but right now, he cared only for not getting found. It was no good though: because he was blocking the main line, he had to be moved into a siding, where the Fat Director and his driver were waiting.

"Dante," said the driver, "you are a…a…VIOLENT SELFISH BASTARD WHO SHOULD BE SCRAPPED! I FUCKING HATE BEING YOUR REPLACEMENT DRIVER, AND I HOPE YOUR NORMAL ONE RETURNS! YOU'RE AN UGLY PIECE OF METAL WORTH MORE AS SCRAP, YOU FUCKING…POMPOUS…BASTARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRD!"

Dante was left speechless! He then regained his composure.

"So, I guess you won't mind if…"

"I already know," said the Fat Director. "The police have been duly informed, and he will go in for a year under crimes of impregnating a 16-year old out of wedlock."

"WHAT?!"

"I told them myself," said the driver. "After telling the Fat Director. They agreed to let me tell you off before I got hauled away."

"But…but…"

"But nothing," said the Fat Director. "Engines on my railway do not blackmail their crews. Since what you did is way too severe to simply overlook, I am sending you to the one place where you can't cause any trouble: Ulfstead, as a static display in the Earl's museum."

"No! I beg you! Please! I didn't intend harm! I just wish to work with my partner again! You can't do that!"

"As General Manager, I can do it, and I will," said the Fat Director. "From this day forth, I want no more chances with you."

And so it was arranged: against Dante's protests, he was sent to the Earl's museum. At least, so intended by the Fat Director. He never expected Dante's regular driver to barge into his home at midnight around a week later, looking enraged.

"You…imprisoned…my…ENGINE!" he roared.

"Imprisoned? What are you talking about?" asked the Fat Director.

"I heard the reports. Sent to a fucking museum?! He's my partner, and I will sue you for imprisoning him!"

"You are being melodramatic."

"I AM NOT! I can feel him, how he wants to move, to roll along the tracks, to feel the fire inside. Dante needs to be out there running like he's meant to be, not rusting away in a museum. I can feel his sadness, I feel cold inside. You have no right to torture him like that. Release him, or I shall sue you."

"You're in no position to sue me anyway," said the Fat Director. "You don't own Dante. Besides, if you say you two are bonded, the court will just think you're crazy."

"So, you have no feelings? You don't care for what he feels? We were sorry for the pullman incident, and we were changing, making the best of our new situation. And then you changed me for another driver, kept me away from him. And now you keep him locked up. I can hear him cry for me, full of despair. He just wants to be free, do things like we did it back in the Furness and LMS. Everyone liked our stunts. And there's strong legislation against you. You could lose the railway."

"I think you'll find once they learn about how he blackmailed his temporary driver, the law will agree I made the best decision."

"That law says: "Retiring sentient engines against their consent, no matter the circumstances, except if the engine's life is in danger, is unacceptable.'"

"It also says exceptions can be made for acts of crime," the Fat Director responded.

"It was a minor act of crime. He blackmailed someone who is a criminal, so the judge would rule that against the law. And charges of slavery would ruin your fucking life."

The Fat Director wavered, thinking about all he'd been told. It was clear Dante was suffering. All the same, how could he trust Dante not to blackmail anybody else? The man before him was crying, not trying to hide his pain. If the others found out…could he ever regain their trust? He didn't know what to answer with.

"Look, Dante currently can't be trusted: if he blackmailed one driver, who knows who else he could blackmail?"

"If I drive him, he'll behave like he did on the Furness. The main problem is you're too strict. He just likes having fun. He holds grudges, but…" the driver broke down in tears.

"Look, Randall, strictness is something needed on all railways, not just mine. If the directors at the Furness were ok with letting him show off, fine. But if I were to return him to service, I'd need guarantee he'd behave. He nearly crashed on his first day, and don't forget the Seven Oaks-like accident with the Northern Pullman. I can't just let him off the hook like that. I need proof he'd work and behave. Not run around carelessly like a headless chicken."

Randall began thinking of something else to say. He could feel Dante, crying in the museum, to the confusion of the other engine living there.

"What's up with you?" she asked. Dante couldn't answer. He just called for his driver again, this time out loud.

"Brother!" he wailed. "Tell him I'm sorry! I don't want to be here forever! Let me out! Please!"

The driver began crying harder. Although he felt sorry for Randall, the Fat Director stood by his decision. He'd have to wait until he felt Dante could be trusted.

"At least, you cruel bastard, don't keep me away from him. Even if he won't go anywhere, I at least want to be able to see him."

"Then head over to Ulfstead, plain and simple," said the Fat Director.

"I will, but there is something you have to know, Sir Topham Hatt. You could never understand our bond. The more time he's there…the less alive he will be."

"Oh I think I do understand," said the Fat Director, "especially since I know of two other employees who are bonded to two of my engines: Conan and Jewelie Owens."

"Try separating them from their partners, lock them up. See what will happen…"

"That already happened when they went to London for a few days," the Fat Director interrupted. "Both engines were fine, the only issues with Thomas were the poor treatment other crews were giving him. Yes, he was worried about them, but no crippling anxiety. Emily also handled herself fine during that time."

"Fine. My union with Dante is different, but I shall not take any further time of yours. I bid you a good evening."

Randall turned and walked away…and tripped down the stairs as he did so.

The Fat Director sighed. He wondered if he was a hypocrite. Then again, the only other option for Dante would be sending him to a scrapyard, which just wouldn't do. One of these days, he'd have to find a place where he could send engines who broke the law, if only temporarily. Perhaps he'd try to make connections with the Longmoor Military Railway, or at least any military railway that used standard gauge rails, then lawbreaking engines could easily be whipped into shape. If Dante really changed, he'd welcome him back with open arms. Until then…