Chapter Text
The sound of metal clicking and clanging as train cars are moved echoes through the yard. The hum of engines working and occasional diesel honk were the constants of this railyard. The activities were 24/7 here but that did not mean that each individual train worked tirelessly.
Greaseball leaned against the cool outer wall of a building. His surface shined in the dim light. It was sundown and the lights around the train yard had flickered on, casting dim moody glows all around. The lights slightly dancing over his frame’s chest from the vibrations from his twin motors.
Buffy and Ashley sat nearby, their eyes darting between him and each other.
Ashley played a short and silent rock-paper-scissors game with her partner in crime, Buffy, to determine who would speak to him. After some rapid fire hand gestures, the results dictated it would be Buffy.
Buffy squeezed her eyes shut as if saying ‘Dang it!’ before stepping forward into the light that washed over Greaseball. "Say, Sweet boy," she purred, breaking the silence. "We didn't come on too strong earlier, did we?"
Greaseball's cylinders pumped faster at the memory. It had genuinely been one of the more relaxing ones in some time. Splish splashing in the river with not a care. "Nah,wbabe.. That was one hell of a treat. Besides, I like attention." He winked, but noticed Ashley fidgeting with her hands.
"It's just..." Ashley started, her voice trailing off. She glanced at Buffy, who nodded encouragingly. "You remind us of someone. An old flame, you could say." She paused, trying to gauge Greaseball's reaction.
The engine's face softened at her words, and he took a small step forward. He knew better than to ask what had happened, "Is that right?” Greaseball's curiosity was ignited like a spark in a steam engine's firebox. "Another handsome engine, I bet." His raised his muscular arms to flex as he posesld confidently, exuding an air of charm and charisma. It brought up giggles from the coaches. He knew they loved that and honestly, he enjoyed making the rolling stock smile. Especially the coaches he was manufactured to be around.
"M-10000," Buffy said softly. "A passenger engine, like you. From an era of the rails that are now only distant memories. "
Greaseball's mind raced, trying to picture this mysteriously named engine. M-10000 sounded so cool when Buffy had said tbat name and it sounded even cooler in his own internal dialogue. But- Was it his outer design that stirred their memories? Or something deeper? "What is it about me that brings him to mind?" Greaseball asked, his voice a low rumble.
Ashley's eyes roamed over his frame. "Well, there's the obvious - you're both built to pull passengers in style. Streamlined diesels."
"But it's more than that," Buffy chimed in. Her eyes bright and cheerful "It's the way you carry yourself. You have the poise."
Greaseball grinned, his ego stoked. "Go on, ladies. Don't be shy."
Buffy and Ashley looked to esch other in silent communication before turning back to Greaseball. "M-10000 was different from any other engine we had ever met then and since," Ashley began, her voice taking on a dreamy tone. "He had this air of mystery and sophistication about him."
"He was smooth, both in looks and personality," Buffy added. "He could win over any passenger with just a smile."
Greaseball's blackbox fans whirred as he listened to the description of M-10000. Mentally he was trying to compile an image of the engine. He couldn't help but feel a sense of competition brewing within him. He loved competition. "Sounds like quite the engine," he said, trying to hide his jealousy. Did coaches talk about him in such a good light too? He was sure they did…
"He was quite the engine. You're right," As Ashley spoke, her eyes became distant and dreamy, as if she were lost in a memory. “But there was something else that drew us to him…and no- it wasn’t because we were made as a trainset for him."
Buffy nodded in agreement. "He had this energy, this spark that made everyone around him feel alive." She paused for a moment and pointed at him before adding, "Just like you, Greaseball."
"Your voice," Ashley said, her own dropping to a sultry whisper. "Deep and powerful, like his."
"And that swagger," Buffy added with a wink. "The way you roll into a station, all eyes on you."
Greaseball's engine purred at their words. He couldn't help but wonder about this M-10000, a ghost from their past that he reminded them of. “Tell me more.“
And so Buffy and Ashley regaled him with stories of their adventures with M-10000 - the luxurious trains he had pulled, the glamorous events they attended - all while Greaseball listened intently, picturing himself in M-10000's place.
Both of the coaches liked the way the gears in his mind turned. With their age and experience they could practically see into his pretty head. “I know you’re new but I just know that you have exactly what it takes to take on the mantle of those wonderful passenger engines of the past.”
Ashley walked around Greaseball who by know had moved well away from the roundhouse wall, “Can you imagine? Flexing your diesel muscles...” She raised her arms and posed, “wooing the passengers with that irresistible Daylight charm. Getting that taste of glory that your kind of engine deserves." Ashley leaned in, her voice dipping down to a huskier tone. "But you know, Daylight," she said, her eyes dipping down to examine the whole of him. "There's something M-10000 didn't have that you do."
"Oh?" Greaseball's curiosity was clearly piqued as he met Ashley's gaze. "And what would that be?"
Without missing a beat, Ashley gestured towards his muscular arms. "Strength," she said. Then, her gaze moved up to meet his eyes again. "And a spunky personality."
“And something else. They called M-10000…Little Zip and…you’re no ‘little zip’…“ Buffy giggled, raising her eyebrows as her eyes landed below his belt.
And that he noticed clearly and treated her to gyrating his hips. He blew a kiss at her.
"Dating him however..was like dating a very attractive statue," Buffy added, her expression bright and playful despite her biting words. She leaned against a nearby stack of crates as she folded her arms across her chest. “Somehow all that poise and charm went away when it was time to rock us like a ship on the ocean. Do you know what coaches want?“
Greaseball’s expression was one of curiosity, his eyebrows shooting up. "Well, ain't that the million-dollar question? Do tell, doll."
“I want an engine that's warm. Knows how to perform. A lotta power.” Ashley stated confidently.
“A lotta speed.“ Buffy ran a hand up Greaseball’s side.
“I…definitely understand and you know- I don’t mind being that for you both..“ Greaseball was feeling quite flustered by now.
"Good," Buffy replied, looking pleased. She stepped forward and patted his arm reassuringly, "Because I think you could give us all of that and much more."
Greaseball then faked a yawn and stretched his massive frame. He knew what they were up to but he didn't exactly have the time for it. Not when he could be a tease, "Well, ladies, duty calls. These carriages won't wash themselves." He winked, grabbing a soapy sponge and sauntering towards the line of coach carriages.
Buffy and Ashley sighed. They had worked themselves up with their flirting and with no pay out. No matter. They settled in for the show.
As he began to work, his powerful arms glistened from the soapy water, they watched with complete attention.
"Would you look at that," Buffy whispered, her voice barely audible over the splash of water. "The way he moves..."
Ashley's eyes were glued to Greaseball's form. "Mmhmm. Reminds me of how M-10000 used to polish our carriages up."
Greaseball, knew of their scrutiny and sang softly as he worked. His rich voice carried across a melody about open rails and endless horizons. A pure and honest trainsong. He moved with fluid grace, despite his stature, each movement precise and calculated.
"That voice," Buffy sighed. "It's like rich gold honey."
Ashley nodded, transfixed. "And those hands. So strong, yet so gentle on our vintage carriages."
As Greaseball reached up to scrub a particularly far spot, his back arched, showcasing the intricate design of his interlocking and sliding panels his sleek exterior. The coaches' eyes widened, drinking in every detail. Every angle and curve of his frame. Every stripe on his legs, the girls counted them up. Those same stripes curved perfectly around his ass.
"Oh he knows how good he looks for sure…" Ashley whispered.
Buffy shook her head. "What a sight. No wonder Golden Spike slips up and calls him Delight."
They continued to watch in silence as Greaseball, still singing, moved down the line of coaches, leaving a trail of sparkly and shiny coach cars...