A deleted scene from the fic-in-progress that demanded to be brought to life as a drabble. Sorry, readers - just be glad that I'm sparing you the dirty song that goes with it...


Oiling the dragon

Across the table, the other woman started to snigger, then guffaw. Loudly. "Seriously?" she eventually gasped out between some sorely-needed breaths. "You've seriously never heard anyone..."

I'm afraid I couldn't help snapping at her. "Look, it seemed like a perfectly reasonable request at the time."

"Oh, sure. What did he say? That he could use an extra pair of hands? That he'd let you ride it afterwards? That he'd show you the length of his, ah, flame?"

"Argh! All he said was that he needed to oil his dragon. What was I supposed to think?"

Laughter, again.

Fardling Weyr euphemisms!