Traintober25 Day 18 Official
Day 18-Bond
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When Casaandra rolled into the yard with the 5:45 passenger train from Harwick, all of Tidmouth sucked in a breath. For she was not in North Eastern Green, North Western Blue, or even London North Eastern Apple Green, but instead freshly painted Gilded Great Western Lined Green gleamed under the evening sun.
From her siding where she was observing the comings and goings of the station yard with James and Rebecca, Mallard laughed delightedly and asked a passing porter to bring her some popcorn to enjoy with the coming show.
Soon enough, as Gordon rolled into view, heading to take the evening express, he stopped abruptly at the sight of Cassandra.
She smirked challengingly, daring the pacific to say something.
Gordon rolled forward until he stopped on the line beside hers, a few feet in front of her, his London North Eastern Apple Green gleaming brightly in contrast to her more muted Great Western Green.
“Might I ask a favor of you Cassandra?” The express engine asked politely.
The tank engine looked at him curiously, “you may.”
“I am aware you don't enjoy these events and the attention they bring to you these days, so I won't ask you to attend, but it would mean a great deal to me if you would allow me to introduce you to my other family while they are here.”
In the quiet after his request Mallard could be faintly heard saying, “blast it! Who coached him!?”
Cassandra snorted at the A4’s clear disappointment, “I'll make some time for you Gordon. I'll even attend some of the events if I'm able.”
“Thank you, that means a lot to me.” Gordon said with a sincere smile.
“I am surprised you didn't make a fuss about my livery,” Cassandra teased.
“I spoke to Toby earlier for advice,” Gordon admitted.
Both NWR engines ignored Mallard’s swearing about ‘blasted meddling tram engines!’
“Besides,” Gordon said with a smirk, "it's only fair to allow the Westerners a win every now and again.”
“Oh is that so?” Cassandra raised an amused eyebrow.
“Of course,” Gordon's smirk grew, “they never officially claimed the speed record," he purred, “so it's only fair to let them have a few wins here and there.”
Across the yard, the listening Western engine's faces went from curious to thunderous as Mallard cackled.
Gordon rolled smugly off to collect his coaches, while Cassandra shook her head.
“Well,” she sighed, “so much for a quiet event.”