Sodor's New Worker (Semi-Hiatus Due to an AO3 rewrite)

Quit Your Quackin'

   The moment Bonnie was finished, she felt very light in the boiler. Realizing she had very much pushed herself too far, she opened her mouth again to ask to be taken to the works, only to heave out oddly tinted boiler sludge. Not that it was considered non-existent, it just wasn't seen that often.

   Gordon and Duck threw open the doors to the sheds to the scene, to which Gordon promptly turned away from.

"You fussy firebox." Duck sneered. "Bonnie, are you alright!?"

"I think I need to go to the works now..." was all she replied with. "I don't feel well."

"Oh, you poor gwyfyn.."

"I'm not a moth.."

"Moths are still pretty in their own way, anwyl."

   Gordon just rolled his eyes at Duck's pathetic attempts to woo her, but eventually manned up, got her on her flatbed, and took her right to the works, where Alfred was hanging in the air to make sure he didn't damage anything else.

"98462." Gordon hissed, hardly looking in his direction.

"Oh, there's the sweet little pillbug."

"Huh?" she slurred out, not exactly the most conscious engine in the works.

"You leave this innocent engine out of whatever you plan on doing." the bigger engine snapped. "She has done nothing to you."

"He ran into me......my insides hurt.."

"I know, Bonnie. You're quite innocent in this whole debacle, you just rest..and try not to throw up again?"

   Try as she may, while they were getting her off the flatbed, she hurled up more boiler sludge.

"Oh, the poor pillbug.." Alfred cooed, feigning innocence. "I gave you quite the boiler ache. Maybe it'll teach you to stay out of bigger engine's way.."

"..."

   Gordon quickly went to go find Victor and requested that she be as far away from Alfred as possible. He knew Alfred well enough that there was a good chance that he wasn't going to listen, and she was now a target to whatever went on in that maniac's smokebox.

   Even while Bonnie wasn't around, Duck's fondness for the grey engine was widely known by nearly every engine on the island. The GWR engine never seemed to correct her ways of doing things, since there was only the Great Western way, or the wrong way.

   Though, there now appeared to be a third option; Bonnie's Way. An efficient way, but also didn't always follow the rules of the rails. She knew it, he knew it, and he didn't care. All he knew is that, at times, it was better than the Great Western way.

   Problem was, he wouldn't say anything to the engine that caught his eye. Other than the Welsh pet names, he never let her on that he had any feelings for her. Even going as far to teach her Welsh just so they could talk without anyone else listening. Bonnie was his best friend. As quiet as she was, and how proud and rather loud he was, they got along great to the point he helped her manage her music hobby.