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joezworld · 3 years

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Fools in Love (9/10)

Gordon, the spectacularly unobservant

June 17, 1985

Like most mornings, Gordon was unceremoniously ripped from his beauty sleep by the sounds of squabbling.

"I will and you can't stop me!"

"Fuck around and find out my dear!"

How unusual. It was usually James and Delta or Duck and/or Donald/Douglas. Henry and Bear were usually too friendly for even mock-fighting, let alone the legitimate anger that seemed to be colouring their tones.

"Why," he asked groggily. “Am I being woken up by you two? I thought that you’d moved beyond mere words.”

Henry and Bear, who usually communicated through a series of significant glances, looked at Gordon as though they hadn’t realized he was there.

“It’s nothing, Gordon.” Bear said after a moment of wild-eyed pause. “Just some... irritating people on the platform, is all."

Must be some irritation, Gordon thought to himself. He couldn’t remember the last time that he'd seen Bear's dander up that high.

No more words were said as his crew readied him for departure, and he could almost feel Henry and Bear's eyes on him as he left.

The arguing began anew as soon as he left the shed.

Now Gordon was concerned.

Arriving at the station brought even more worry - James had snorted out of platform two like he was auditioning to be a thundercloud, leaving a choking miasma of smoke and soot in his wake.

A crowd of people were holding signs and chanting slogans near the station Café as he backed onto his train. The Fat Controller was standing nearby, looking deeply upset, while station security tried to usher the people out. Considering the soot all over their clothes and signs, Gordon's first thought was that these people had been upset by James' departure, before he realized that these people had likely been the reason for James' upset in the first place.

Any lingering sympathy he might have had vanished as the leader of the group stood up on a box and started ranting about how the Fat Controller wanted to drive them out of the station, and they had a permit to demonstrate.

Permit they may have had, but their language was filthy. It was no wonder that his friends were upset.

Gordon decided that these people needed to leave.

The guard blew his whistle, waved his flag, and Gordon didn’t move.

The guard blew his whistle and waved his flag again, and Gordon still didn’t move.

“Is something wrong, Gordon?” Asked the Fat Controller as he noticed Gordon’s uncharacteristically slow start.

“No sir, but I wouldn’t stand there if I were you.”

The Fat Controller looked behind him. The crowd of people were about ten feet back and few feet behind him, slowly being shoved backwards towards the exits by the station staff.

He looked in front of him. Gordon’s blowdown pipe was slowly dripping with water.

“I can’t recommend that, Gordon.”

“Please move, sir.”

There must have been a look in Gordon’s eye, because the Fat Controller actually did move, waving off the station staff as he did so. The group of angry people relaxed slightly, not realizing that they were now alone on a section of empty platform.

The guard, who saw the Fat Controller move away, waved his flag and blew his whistle a third time.

Gordon didn’t move, but his fireman jumped when he saw the pressure in Gordon’s boiler skyrocket.

“Cripes!” He shouted, and pulled on the lever to blow off steam.

Chaos ensued as steam roared out of Gordon’s boiler and into the station. Inside the enclosed building, it was so loud and so steamy that not even Gordon could hear or see anything, and men outside the station started running towards it, thinking that something had gone dreadfully wrong!

Eventually, the thunderous noise died down, and Gordon was able to see again.

The Fat Controller, who had jumped into his cab as steam filled the building, poked his head out into the open air. His suit was soaked from the residual humidity, and his hat was ruined.

The wall directly opposite Gordon now had a circular spot about a meter wide that was noticeably cleaner than the rest of the wall from where it had been effectively steam-cleaned.

The angry people were angry no more - now they were frightened, soggy, and deaf. None of them were seriously hurt, but they still beat a hasty retreat from the station, leaving many of their signs behind.

Speaking of which... now that the steam had cleared away James’ soot, Gordon could now see what their signs said.

What an odd cause, He thought to himself. Why would they be against happy people?

----------------------------

February 14, 1987

They were at it again.

Bear was being even more unusual than normal. He’d woken up at the crack of dawn, raced out of the shed at maximum speed, and seemed intent on setting a land speed record for pick-up goods.

Delta had seemed to be her usual overbearing self, but as the day had gone on she’d become more and more anxious. In the interest of being a good friend, Gordon had asked her what was wrong, only for her to tell him that she was "just excited, nothing to worry about and no offense but I don’t think that you’d understand.”

Gordon would have said that something had gotten into the diesel fuel, but BoCo had been similarly puzzled when they spoke at the junction. “I don’t know what’s gotten into them - it’s like they’ve got a hot date or something.”

“A date? With whom?”

“Search me. But half of my passengers are acting the same way - it is Valentine’s Day after all.”

"But that’s a human holiday. Why would they care?"

That also didn’t explain James, whose obsessing over his paintwork had reached new heights of neurotic.

"You will polish my tender until you can see your face in it! Understand?!" He shouted at the workmen.

That night, the sheds were tense, even if there wasn’t any reason for it.

Delta had come back on Bear's evening train - the Hymek himself was nowhere to be seen. Gordon considered it a good thing that Henry was in Barrow that night - he had a tendency to get lonely when Bear was somewhere else, and Delta and James were decidedly on edge all evening.

Without either of the big green engines, the sheds were somewhat emptier than usual, a sensation that grew more and more pronounced as engine after engine left for late-night trains.

Edward left for his late night local around 9, and was followed by BoCo half an hour later.

Percy, who had been sleeping in the sheds most of the day, was practically shooed out by a strangely apologetic James, and huffily left for Elsbridge with a goods train.

A visiting diesel was going home to London, and had been rostered to take the night express all the way to the capitol. When the Class 50 left a few minutes after Percy, Gordon became suddenly aware that the shed was empty aside from himself, Delta, and James.

"How strange," he remarked. "Normally we're all here by this point in the evening."

"I agree," Delta said quickly. "Especially considering that you have to go take something soon as well. I can’t remember the last time the big shed's been this empty."

"What train?" Gordon raised an eyebrow. "I have no trains tonight."

"What." James didn't phrase it as a question.

"Was there something I missed?"

"I thought that you'd have a train tonight." James said, looking panicked.

"I don't do night runs if I can help it James, are you two feeling alright?" Both red engines were looking increasingly alarmed.

"What about the Flying Kipper?"

"I assumed that Henry would take it."

"Henry's in Barrow!"

"Hmm. Why don't one of you take it?"

"Can't." | "We're busy." They said simultaneously.

"Doing what?"

"Not that." James said quickly.

Gordon was about to argue further when James’ crew wandered into the shed.

“Alright boyo! Time for the night mail! Let’s get rolling!” His driver said with way too much joviality for the late hour.

James looked horrified. “Night mail? I can’t take the night mail! I’m not in steam!”

A small wisp of smoke curled out of his funnel as he said that. His crew stared at it.

“Gordon will take it!” James pressed on in desperation. “He likes running at night!”

Gordon, who did not like running at night, and was enjoying the pleasant sensation of his fire slowly burning out, was appalled. “I most certainly will not!” he said indignantly.

-----

“Mate, you need to work on your negotiating skills.” James’ fireman said to Gordon as the blue engine was coupled to the mail train.

“I didn’t hear you jump to my defense.” Gordon muttered darkly as he shivered in the cold February air.

“‘Course not!” The fireman said. “You think I want to spend all night in James’ little phonebox of a cab? I’ve got so much more room in here!” He swung his shovel around for emphasis, causing a massive CLANG as he accidentally smacked it against the cab wall.

“Good for you...” Gordon grit his teeth and waited for the signal to drop. The sooner this was over the better.

-----

Two hours later

Fortunately for Gordon, the midnight run was more or less flawless - he had a green signal the entire way across the Island, and aside from having to slow down for track workers outside of Maron station, he made good time into Barrow.

Passing his train off to the yard shunter, Gordon eagerly awaited his berth in the shed. Perhaps he could get some answers out of Henry as to why -

“Sorry mate - not going in ‘ere tonight.” Groused a diesel multiple unit that was sitting astride the points leading to the shed.

“I beg your pardon?” Gordon was not amused.

“Beg all ye like - teh basterds in ‘ere told me to sod off.” The Pacer was no happier than Gordon as he explained. “Said the shed was closed and made me sit outside in the freezin’ cold. Wankers...”

“Who told you that?” Gordon was unaware of any engine who would willingly block the shed - except Duck.

“Some Green bloke.”

“Henry?”

“No, not the kettle! Some other berk - a ‘eritage diesel or some shite like that.” The railcar shivered. “Big, Green, looked ancient, told me to keep out and make sure nobody else came in.”

“And you did what he said?” Gordon was rapidly losing patience with the railbus.

“I wasn’t gonna, but...” The Pacer trailed off guiltily and looked down at his buffers. Gordon followed his gaze and saw that the little multiple unit had derailed on the points.

“I see.” Gordon sighed. He wanted to blame the Pacer, but clearly there was some sort of preserved diesel who was truly to blame.

“At least it isn’t bad outside other than tha cold.” The railcar said, trying to be cheerful.

Gordon stared murderously at the sheds. It had snowed six inches overnight.

To make matters worse, he was now being roped into the morning express - a duty he usually cherished, but would prevent him from knowing the identity of the blasted diesel that had kept him from his warm shed.

Gordon had not been gone more than ten minutes when the shed doors opened and a diesel rolled out of it.

“Oh look Henry, it snowed last night!” Bear called back into the sheds.

“SHOVE IT UP YER INTAKES!” Yelled the Pacer from underneath his snowbank.

#ttte gordon #sodor #ttte #OC: Delta #ttte Bear #ttte James #ttte henry #valentines day #snow #sodor shenangians #fools in love #gordon doesn't notice anything #fic

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