The Thing About Today

14 February 1970

Word Count: +3,890

"Bonjour, pa'! Joyeux Saint Valentin!" piped Jacqueline.

"Bonjour, Jackie!" chuckled James as he backed into his goods train. "Joyeux Saint Valentin! Feelin' bubbly?"

Both engines were taking loads of aluminum from the works up north the Shen Valley Branch Line. James would take his load to Tidmouth while Jacqueline would take hers to Vicarstown. It was originally meant to be the other way around but Jacqueline had been insistent in swapping loads last night.

"I have a friend there!" "I haven't seen her in a while, pa'!" James quickly gave in, knowing how it felt to not see a close friend in a while. Apart from the weekly gatherings at Tidmouth, he hadn't seen Edward, one of his closest friends, in a few weeks. They didn't meet up as often as they used to years ago. Sometimes, they'd go one or two days without seeing each other and other times, they'd go weeks instead, simply because their schedules didn't line up with one another.

Besides, it was Valentine's Day. He could at least greet his friends on such a wonderful day on any chance he could get.

"Oui, pa'!" Jacqueline's cheeks burned, but the red engine thought nothing of it, laughing as he was coupled up to his goods train. Her guard's whistle shrilled. "I'm off, pa'! Au revoir!" With her boiler full of energy and steam, she headed off for Vicarstown.

"Au revoir!" He lurched forward, slightly straining as he was pulled back by his flatbeds. Right then, it didn't bother him-.

"Watch out, you silly engine!" His driver, Demian, popped his head out, shaking his fist.

Now it did, to which James snapped right back, "Shove off, will ya!"

Ever since Demian and Richard, his new driver and fireman respectively, took over from his previous crew, there was nothing but constant bickering between them. James didn't see them fit enough to understand him. They weren't the same as Mr. Quill and Mr. Turner.

They weren't them.

But, they were better than sitting in the shed, waiting to come out because no one else could take him out. Mr. Quill and Mr. Turner were well past their youth, having a hard time keeping up with the workloads. It was hard for James to admit it but they needed to retire. They deserved it after having spent so many years by James' side, tolerating him at best.

He knew that, and it was the very least he could do to thank for everything.

...

Right as James neared Knapford Station, he spotted Thomas waiting with Annie and Clarabel. From a distance, he noticed the lack impatience or cheeriness within his expression.

Curious, the red engine hollered as he slowed down, "Wonderful day, innit, Thomas?"

Nothing.

He slowed down some more, leaning to his right. "Thomas~! I know you can hear me~!"

Again. Nothing.

"Thomas-?"

"What?" grunted the engine in question.

"He speaks!" snickered James, coming to a stop. "What's up with you today? It's only morning of a wonderful day!"

"Don't say it-"

"Joyeux Valentine's Day!"

"To Lady, you're insufferable-"

That's it. Today was no day to be in a sour mood. It had to be the worst day to be so. Determined to not let his day go wrong, at least not so soon, James figured that getting to the bottom of... whatever was going on might help. "Ok. Seriously, what's got you all puffed up?" The splendid red engine looked over the stumpy blue engine, trying to spot any injuries that could imply something.

He found nothing. But still. "Did you-?"

"I'm not like you!" jabbed Thomas. "Getting into trouble every single day!"

"Hey!" he scoffed, thrown off by the sudden anger. "I was just asking!"

"I'm still waiting!" the blue iron horse snapped once more.

Confused, James stayed quiet.

"Go on! Make fun of me."

What is up with him? "...what?"

Thomas was ready to snap again but suddenly stopped in his tracks, frowning. "Wait... were you on the island last year? On Valentine's Day?"

James huffed. "'Course I was! I got stuck up in Peel Godred, remember?"

"...so you didn't hear about any rumor that happened that day?"

"I heard that something happened-" James leaned further to the right. "Not sure what it was."

"Forget what I said then!"

"Oh no, you don't!" Thomas wouldn't be allowed to leave anyways, James knew that. His guard hadn't blown the whistle, and Thomas didn't want a repeat of what happened years ago. "What spills has spilled. Fess up!"

Thomas' cheeks burned, glaring at James. "Mind your own beeswax!"

The last bit was sneered, taunting James for something that happened years ago. It set off the red iron horse, sending him into a flustered rage, gritting his teeth. "You-!"

Thomas' guard blew his whistle. The moment it did, Thomas fled, startling his crew and successfully avoiding confrontation.

"Thomas!" James could holler all he wanted but he knew Thomas wouldn't come back. "Damn it!"

"James, language!" Demian popped his head out, shaking his fist.

James fumed but held on. Just long enough for when his signal turned green, he jerked forward, just to show, once again, how little respect he had for the young men. Ignoring their chides once more, the red iron horse headed toward Tidmouth to finish up his job.

...

Tidmouth Yard was busy as usual, with shunters scuttling about the tracks, switching points left, right, and center. As James arrived, he surveyed the area for Stanley or any of the other shunters when he spotted Edward, who appeared to have just arrived. Odd, as James didn't recall seeing or hearing Edward on his way here.

Just as James approached his friend, he had an idea.

Maybe he knows what happened. Often seen as wise and kind, others would forget that Edward, somehow, knew every little thing that happened on the island and was responsible for any rumors spread. Partially.

As he drew near Edward, the latter piped, "Good mornin', Stanley!"

Behind the row of cars to Edward's left, Stanley replied, "Good morning, Edward!"

And like that, the older engine sat there idly, waiting to be uncoupled from his train.

But James took note of how Edward's smile slowly diminished, his face losing the soft warmth, matching the late winter cold. It wasn't a frown but it wasn't anything pleasant to signify that the smaller engine was at peace. Something must be bothering him.

"Good morning, Edward~!" James piped, startling Edward. "How's it going?"

While James was all cheery, bright as the morning sun, Edward's day began with a foggy mind, like yesterday's cloudy skies. It was full of thoughts about today, Valentine's Day. Ones that led to thinking about the red engine.

In the past, like other engines, Valentine's Day was something that Edward didn't care much for. It wasn't something he hated but it wasn't something he was interested in either. It was one of those nice holidays the passengers would celebrate, hoping on trains to visit their loved ones. Seeing them so cheery made Edward bubbly, leaving him in a pleasant mood for the day.

But, oh dear... That morning, he was bubbly for a different reason, and that reason was here. A part of him hoped to not come across the splendidly red engine today. The fear of possibly making his friend uncomfortable with his odd behavior had nagged him since December, and it chose to be his biggest concern that day.

Ever since that December, Edward's mind would return to the subject. He thought about it over and over again, thinking he had come to terms about his feelings the first night at the works. "I have plenty of time." Too much time, if anything. He wanted to understand how and why he felt this strongly for James. He didn't intend to think about the possible outcomes if he told James. Or how other engines would take it. Or how Sir Topham Hatt II would take it.

As his thoughts spiraled, Edward fell into panic and, as normal as a reaction he could have, he boxed them up and shunted them to the back of his mind.

It didn't resolve anything as, unfortunately, the back of his mind spoke the loudest.

Since then, whenever he came across James, his boiler bubbled and those thoughts screamed at him. Is this really what love is all about? People enjoy this feeling, of being on edge about someone they care about? It wasn't fear. Edward knew what it truly felt like, and this... surge of complex emotions wasn't it.

James was a dear friend that he deeply cared about. That he knew for certain. A dear friend whom he had a complicated history with. A roller coaster, if you would. When they met, he hoped to befriend him but with the way Sir Topham Hatt spoke about James...

Edward couldn't help but be envious and scared, thinking that James would replace him. In response, the little blue engine worked, grinding his wheels, close to the point of flattening them until the controller confronted him. Once those thoughts were dispelled, he focused on befriending the newcomer once more.

And yet, everything went south because, of course, what he thought would be helpful, what he believed to be for the best, wasn't.

From mistrust on Edward's end to selfishness on James', it was a relationship that others deemed to be a waste of time. It's not worth saving, he was told. You're both too different! They've heard their fair share of advice.

But with time, the pieces found themselves and they were able to rebuild from there. It was a beautiful way to think of their bond when another engine would remind him of how James could be.

Could. A keyword perfectly describing the splendid red engine in his books.

James could be vain. He could be selfish. He could be rude.

But James could also be kind. He could be selfless at times. He could admit that he was wrong and work to make up for his mistakes. He could very well be confident and, at times, be correct to be so. Edward's seen it. Others have definitely seen it, yet some see past it and focus on what screams the loudest. They didn't care about James' good traits.

He did. He admired the way James was, confident in his strides and willing to do what it takes to make up for any wrongdoing of his. He accepted James the way he was, and he didn't want him any other way.

Noticing how seconds of silence were about to turn into minutes, Edward shook away his thoughts, shunting them away once again. The cerulean engine looked over to his side and piped, "Mornin', James!"

"Another clay delivery?" James eyed the clay trucks trailing behind the other as he approached him, stopping so his buffer beam lined up with Edward's. It meant that their smokeboxes didn't line up as James' was further pushed back than Edward's. He wouldn't see his face, and it worked well in Edward's favor as he was sure that his face was still burning. "Is there a project going on?"

"Ah think sae?" He wasn't exactly sure but he had noticed the sudden rise of materials being delivered to Tidmouth. "Most o' the supplies ah bring thae days ur bein' taken up th' Little Western. I huvnae been able tae ask Duck or Oliver aboot it, though."

"You usually know everything," noted James. From an outsider perspective, it was an insult, but he knew Edward would catch on to what he was laying down.

He did, proven by the sudden quirk of his eyebrows. "Curious aboot somethin'?"

James stayed quiet, meticulously choosing his words. Yes, Edward loved to "chit-chat" but he had some restraints. Some. "Thomas was acting weird this morning. I don't think he likes Valentine's Day. Do you know why?"

Again, quickly falling into their personal routine, his skeptical expression sharpened. "'N' whit wid ye dae, if ah told ye?"

"Nothing, nothing!" reassured the red engine. It was a strict expression Edward bore. This was his son they were speaking about, afterall. How the small tender engine could intimidate in an instant, James couldn't figure out. And he probably never will. "Just curious."

"Mmm, alricht then... Ye say he diz'nae like Valentine's Day?"

"Yes! From the sounds of it."

There was hesitation then. "Ah-" Guilt bubbled within him. "It has somethin' tae dae wit' what happened last year. Ah'm... surprised ye ne'er found oot, seein' how oot o' hand it got-"

"Ok!" His interest very much piqued. I knew something happened! That little rascal! "I'm not leaving until you tell me everything."

Ah- "...everythin'?"

"Everything!" he smirked.

It was enough to lighten up his mood, but he wouldn't look directly at James. "Well, th' twins started teasin' him 'n' Rosie that mornin' aboot thaim possibly bein' together. Frae thare, it got oot o' hand. Thomas wasn't tae happy aboot it. Wit' how he reacted, he hurt Rosie in th' process. They reconciled by th' end of th' day but other engines continued tae tease aboot it." It was when he looked back at James, who simply stared at him with interest and confusion. "Again, ah'm surprised ye didnae hear aboot it."

"That makes two of us," he huffed. "But I don't get it-"

"Whit dinnae ye get?" He wished it wasn't what he thought it was.

"What's so bad about Thomas and Rosie being together? They're friends, aren't they?"

Oh dear... "No, James. Ah-"

But, alas, his persistence naturally flowed, letting his logic spill. "We're friends," he emphasized, unaware of the way Edward's freckled cheeks furiously burned. "We're together-!"

"James!" he squawked before quickly shutting his mouth, face burning. Everyone else in the yard stopped and stared at the two, including their crews. They'd gotten into their own conversation but his outburst caught their attention and concern.

"Is everything alright?" Edward's driver peered out of the cab windows.

Equally concerned and confused, James inched closer, his smokebox lining up with the other's. He saw how pitch black his freckled cheeks became, and how those bronze eyes refused to look right him. "W-We're fine!" he hollered, refusing to look away. "We're fine."

He noticed how a smile, a grateful one, peaked out, only to quickly disappear. I'm in the clear. Maybe.

"...Is it wrong?"

The small cerulean engine shook as gently as he could on his chassis and cleared his pipes. "That's not-" This conversation needed to end. Now. "Ah meant in a romantic wey. Th' wey th' controller 'n' his wife ur!"

"Oh!" His eyes widened, finally understanding the situation. "That makes a lot more sense," he hummed. "...Are they?"

Edward's eyebrows quirked.

"I'll take that as a no." James heard Edward sigh, one that wasn't meant to be heard. "...Did that bother you?"

The smaller tender engine didn't answer, his eyebrows pinched and appearing bothered.

"...so would it be bad for us to be together that way?"

There wasn't any indication of hope in his tone. Only curiosity.

I'm a fool.

Closing his eyes and sighing once more, Edward replied, "Na, it's nae that." Lies. "I just... Ah still feel awful for whit ah did." Not a complete lie...

"What did you do?" Didn't sound like he believed him, his words carried by a playful tone.

"Ah didnae ken whit wis goin' oan either, 'n' it started oan ma line." Lip line crumpling into a frown, the memory came back to him. "Ah didnae mean tae add fuel tae the fire but ma comment upset Rosie. We came across each other at Wellsworth, 'n' she told me that Thomas wis actin' rather rude that day. She thought 'twas because he didnae like her. Ye remember how those twa were whin thay met, dinnae ye?"

James hummed, and Edward continued. "Ah thought somethin' similar happened but ah knew Thomas wasn't lik' that anymair. Ah told her that 'twas strange 'n' that ah thought Thomas really liked her." His nose scrunched up as he frowned. "Ah didnae mean it romantically."

"Is that what you were so upset about then?"

Wait- "Ye clocked?"

James scoffed, insulted. "Course I did." You're my close friend. "If you're upset, I can tell, even without your nose scrunching."

His interest was piqued. "...How exactly kin ye tell?" He looked over, gaze locking with James and paying close attention to how the larger engine responded.

The prideful engine carefully picked his words. "Well, you have this..." he muttered some gibberish, "-presence to yourself. That's as best as I can explain it."

"Ah think ah git it." He wanted to know a little more. He didn't expect an observation from James. It just doesn't happen often. "What kind o' presence?"

The large red engine's pride started to lift up. The small blue engine noticed how James looked around, his eyes calming down from being on high alert. Everyone else must've gotten busy once again. Edward didn't know as he couldn't pull his gaze away from the other engine, carefully observing him. "It's..." his face, in turn, started burning, "-welcoming. It's nice to be around... That day, it didn't feel the same. You were putting up that front but I- it was easy to tell that you were upset about something."

The smaller engine didn't miss the switch up, but he decided to not address it. "Ah didnae mean tae worry a'body." He saw James' smile. A rare one. One that was soft, appreciative, and genuine.

Once Edward realized where his mind was going, he cleared his throat, returning to the original conversation. "Ah said sorry tae Rosie afterwards. She forgave me but ever since then, ah still feel guilty for whit happened. Tis silly, ah ken that, but wi' how Thomas has been actin'-"

"Well, that's on him!" he exclaimed, earning them looks once again. This time, Edward ignored them. "He's not that young engine who constantly followed you around the yard once upon a time!"

"That ah ken-"

"So what gives? You didn't start the rumor, did you?"

"Na, but it did oan ma branch line."

"But did you start it?" he insisted.

Edward hesitated but relented. "No." His partial lie was starting to fall apart. This conversation should've ended a while ago.

"See? Problem solved. So what gives?"

"...I didnae really look forward tae today."

"What? Why not? You didn't mind it before? Was it really because of that?"

"Aye," he quickly replied. "It hud me thinkin' 'n'- well- ah rather nae think too much aboot it." Finally, a decent truth. Not the complete truth but it was still true nonetheless.

"So you don't like the roses all over the place neither?"

"Ah mean... th' roses ur beautiful oan thair own..." he hummed, hesitating to continue. "I like th' white ones."

James smirked. Gotcha! "But Valentine's Day is about the beautiful things! You've said so yourself that it's to appreciate them!"

The urge to just smile started to bubble up, but he opted to roll his eyes playfully. "Ah meant relationships-"

"And your smile's one of them!"

A squeak was hummed and his steam pressure rose as he tried to suppress the silly smile showing up. The smile James just complimented.

He failed, letting himself grin, his crooked lip line curling up and his overbite showing. His soft chuckles quickly became squawks, and he was blushing quite furiously. James turned him into a giddy, flustered mess, and for the moment, he did not mind. The same went for how proud James was becoming capable of making him smile. It was happening more often as they grew closer...

"...so is it bad for us to be together that way?" To Edward, no. He would be perfectly happy if they were.

But what about you? He continued to smile and chuckle as he gazed at James, thinking, Do you feel the same, dear? He just wanted to ask how he felt about such an idea.

But I can't. James had just grasped at the idea of how love worked, beyond platonic relationships. It wasn't fair. It would be cruel and selfish to just ask and tell him, expecting an answer from someone who, just moments ago, didn't think about the mere idea of romance between engines happening.

"We're friends." "We're together-!" "Well, is it wrong?" To be friends, no. Yet in the early age of steam engines, it was considered taboo by railway boards and engines themselves, being seen as a distraction from work. Would engines being together be a problem?

It would. Here he was experiencing the pinning, and he could tell it would become a problem.

So maybe it would be. Maybe it is best to keep it down, his gaze behind fluttering eyes intensified as he laughed, It's best for you, dear.

He wasn't about to drag James right along, possibly into something that could ruin their friendship or him.

Keep it down.

"Ye think tis beautiful?" asked Edward, once his laughter died down. He felt his crew start to work with his gauges, readying him for the return trip to his branch line. "Is it really?" he asked again, timidness and disbelief peaking through.

"You don't believe me?" James mocked, yet blushing furiously. "I don't just go around complimenting everything, you know?"

"Och, ah know," he teased. A small pleased smirk formed, passing off as his typical soft smile. "I ken."

Ready to tease back, James opened his mouth, only to be interrupted by his crew. "Let's get going!" yelled Demian.

The red iron horse loudly groaned and rolled his eyes. Normally, Edward would say something but he let him have it this time. He'd seen the way James' new crew were and understood why James reacted so poorly. He just hoped they could get along sooner rather than later.

"Ah shuid git goin', too," chuckled Edward. "Heaven's kens whit Bill 'n' Ben ur up tae, 'n' ah cannae be leavin' Ryan oan his own wi' thaim." Not after last time, the poor dear.

The bit of humor was enough to cheer James up. "I'll see you around then! Bye, Edward!"

"Bye, James!" With two whistles and a wheesh from releasing his brakes, Edward was off. A part of him was sad to leave, but another was glad. The giddiness bubbling within his boiler persisted throughout their chat, gradually raising his steam pressure. A sensation once unpleasant was now welcome. Very welcome, indeed.

He was curious as to why his crew had made no mention of it. They were suspiciously quiet.

As he got back on the Main Line, he began to wonder, Is this what a fluttering heart feels like? Is this what they call 'butterflies'? He heard that expression many times these days. The feeling was soothing yet uneasy, the latter of which becoming infrequent.

"Lovesick, ah truly am," he whispered as he puffed away, shocked at how loud James and his crew's bickering was but unaware of how his own crew whispered to one another.

Back in the yard, James and Demian bickered about, the latter ready to use stronger language. Richard stayed in the engine's cab, watching with disinterest. His mind was busy with another thought. Unlike the clueless red engine, he wasn't convinced of Edward's reasoning. I'll make a note to tell James, he decided as he poked out of the cab, ready to separate the two. But first, work.