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Greaseball cruised up to Dinah as the celebrations began to die down and the track marshalls took over the track, ready to clean up after the race. The diesel locomotive was grinning ear to ear as she approached her girlfriend, she might not have won - but there was always next time, and she wouldn't let her loss ruin her bravado.
Rusty had won one race, and Greaseball had dozens under her belt.
"So, Dinah," Greaseball started, leaning casually against the track barrier beside where Dinah was sitting on a barrel, the dining car fiddling with her wheels, "I was thinking you could come with me to the after-race party tonight. Could be a date night, you know."
Dinah, busy cleaning her wheels from the dust and debris of the races, paused mid-swipe. She blinked at Greaseball, tilting her head as if she hadn't heard right.
"Date night?" Dinah asked, lowering her cleaning rag slowly, her eyes narrowing in confusion. "I didn't know you had a girlfriend."
Greaseball blinked.
"But... you're my girlfriend, Dinah?"
Dinah raised an eyebrow, her hand settling on her hip as she leveled an unimpressed look at Greaseball. "And what makes you think I’m your girlfriend?"
Greaseball’s grin faltered. “Well, I just thought because, y'know… we’ve been hanging out and all. And you're… my girlfriend?”
They'd been girlfriends for ages? What was Dinah talking about?
Dinah sighed, hopping down from the barrel and and crossing her arms. "Greaseball," she said, voice steady, but with a hint of amusement as a smirk pulled at the edges of her lips, "a girlfriend is someone you care about, someone you treat with love and respect. And after how you treated me during the championship race... well, let's just say that's not how you treat a girlfriend. Not one you want to keep, anyways."
Greaseball’s grin disappeared entirely, replaced with an awkward smile. "Uh, I’m... sorry?" she offered with a shrug, but it came out like more of a question than an apology. She had already apologized, anyways. "So... is that a no, then?"
Dinah shook her head, her expression softening into something like pity mixed with mild exasperation as she rolled her eyes. "If you really want to call me your girlfriend, Greaseball," she said, starting to walk away, heading towards the exit of the race track, "you're gonna have to do a lot more than just an 'S. O. R. R. R. Y.'"
Greaseball took a step forward after her, confused. "But... what do I gotta do?"
Shouldn't Dinah want to be her girlfriend?
Everyone wanted to be Greaseball's partner!
Or at least... she had thought they did.
Dinah stopped and glanced over her shoulder, a small smirk tugging at her lips. "You’ll have to earn it. And what that means, you can figure out."
With that, Dinah turned and rolled off, leaving Greaseball standing there, completely bewildered. The other coaches, who had witnessed the entire exchange, giggled as they passed by, shooting Greaseball amused looks.
Greaseball scratched her head, frowning as she tried to make sense of it all. Earn it? She’d said sorry, hadn’t she?
What else could Dinah want?
"Well... if I’m gonna earn it," she muttered to herself, tapping her wheels thoughtfully on the track as she paced back and forth, "I gotta go big. Something impressive. Something that'll convince her I'm the best girlfriend ever."
Her eyes lit up as the first idea came to her.
She could work out more! Yeah, that had to be it! Dinah would love a girlfriend who looked strong, toned, and unbeatable. Someone that could totally beat up anyone that was rude to her. Greaseball flexed her arms and smirked. She'd do even more laps, lift heavier, get so jacked that Dinah wouldn't be able to resist her! She'd be pumping iron day and night until Dinah was ready to be her girlfriend again!
"Yeah, that’ll do it," Greaseball decided with a confident nod. "Once she sees me in top form, she'll be back."
Because, who wouldn't want to be her girlfriend then?
Greaseball certainly couldn't imagine anyone who wouldn't.
The plan was practically foolproof.
But then another idea hit her, causing her to skid to a stop. What if it wasn’t just about looking good? What if Dinah wanted proof that she was still a winner? Especially after the disaster of Rusty winning the championship, maybe Dinah was embarrassed of Greaseball now, too embarrassed to be the girlfriend of a loser.
Greaseball grinned widely. Of course! She could win the next big race - blow everyone out of the water and make Dinah proud. Nothing would say 'I’m the greatest choice of a girlfriend ever' like a victory lap with the championship trophy in hand while the crowd was cheering her name. Maybe she could even dedicate the win to Dinah. Yeah, that would impress her for sure!
Greaseball puffed out her chest at the thought, already imagining Dinah’s smile as she hoisted the trophy, the dining car leaning forward to plant a kiss on Greaseball's cheek.
But as she rolled forward, she paused.
What if… what if the trophy itself was the key? Her mind wandered to the row of gleaming trophies that she kept neatly organized and polished in her train shed. Dinah didn’t have any of her own - so Greaseball could give her one of hers! Yeah, nothing says 'I love you' like giving someone your hard-earned prize, right?
She rolled in a tight circle, already daydreaming about the moment she'd present the trophy to Dinah, and how touched she'd be by the gesture. "It's gotta be one of the big ones," Greaseball said to herself, planning it out. "One of my championship ones. She’s gonna love it."
The sound of giggling from behind her broke her thoughts. The other coaches were huddled together, watching her and whispering between themselves. One of them, Belle, glided over and smirked as she rolled to a stop in front of Greaseball.
"You alright there, Greaseball?" she asked, a teasing lilt in her voice. "You’ve been muttering to yourself for ages. Missing a certain dining car?"
Greaseball straightened up, crossing her arms defensively as she sniffed haughtily. "Just, y'know, thinking about how I’m gonna win Dinah back. How I'm gonna be the best girlfriend ever."
Belle raised an eyebrow, amused. "Oh really? What’s the plan?"
"I’m gonna work out more, win the next big race, and then give her one of my trophies," Greaseball said, ticking off each point on her fingers, her tone brimming with confidence as she explained her plan. "That’ll do it. She won’t be able to resist. I'm gonna be the coolest and bestest girlfriend ever."
Belle blinked.
"Wow, Greaseball… that’s…" she seemed to struggle for a moment, bit her lip, and then promptly burst into laughter, raising a hand to cover her mouth as she laughed.
"Brilliant, right?" Greaseball interrupted, flashing a proud grin.
"Oh my Starlight. No," Belle said, shaking her head with a grin as she shook her hands emphatically. "Greaseball - that’s not what she meant at all!"
Greaseball frowned, "What do you mean? She said I had to earn it."
"Yeah, but she didn’t mean winning a race or giving her a trophy," Belle said, still giggling. "Dinah doesn’t care about all that stuff. She cares about you. She wants you to be nicer, more thoughtful - you know, be a better girlfriend."
Greaseball stared blankly for a long moment. "...nicer?"
"Yeah," Belle said with a shrug. "She just wants you to treat her like she matters, like she's your girlfriend too. Like you love her."
Greaseball rubbed the back of her neck, utterly perplexed. "But... that’s it? Just be... nice?"
"Pretty much," Belle said, spinning on her wheels to rejoin the others, who were still snickering behind her. "Good luck with that!"
Greaseball stood in stunned silence.
No trophy? No winning race? No new muscles?
"Just... be nice?" she muttered to herself again, as if trying to wrap her head around the concept. "That's..."
She hadn't thought of that.
She glanced toward the direction Dinah had gone, feeling a little unsure now. Maybe she didn’t need to win another race or pump iron... Maybe Dinah just wanted someone who actually listened to her, who supported her and didn’t treat her like an afterthought.
Weird.
"Huh," Greaseball muttered, slowly beginning to roll off towards the direction Dinah had went. "Well... guess I can try that."
She'd keep her plans in mind, though. As backups. Because they were totally great.