Blue Beauty
Story by Smirkyguy

(This story takes place four days after Dewdrop is saved from certain death after having her belly blown open by two surface-to-air missiles. She has been sleeping in peace in Luna's hangar for that duration. Her body remains outside, preserved in the deep snow of a Kansas winter.)

The door between hangar and hallway slid open. Doctor Foxworth silently entered, pushing a janitor's cart in front of him. He stopped a fair distance away from the severed dragoness head in the corner of the large room. An internal debate racked his mind. Dare he come close and wake her?

The answer came from Dewdrop, when she telepathically announced, "You may approach, Doctor. If I intended to harm you, you would already be dead."

Doc gave a sigh of relief. "I didn't know you were awake. I hope you don't mind my presence."

Dewdrop had not yet moved visibly. "Calm your nerves, Doctor. Your company is... welcome."

"Thank you," Doc replied, and pushed the cart until it was near enough to quickly go back and forth between Dewdrop and the supplies. 

Dewdrop slowly cracked her eyes open, watching the doctor's actions like a hawk. Her piercing green eyes tried to discern the purpose of the cart, without speaking a word.
"You have my permission," she stated without any context whatsoever.

"Permission to...?" Doc started to ask, but was interrupted.

"You intend to examine my condition, and then cleanse me. Am I mistaken?"

"Impressive deductive skills. Yes, that's an accurate summary," Doc confirmed.

"When you have lived as long as I, such observational skills become second nature."

"No doubt." Doc grabbed a tablet computer off the cart and got close enough to communicate with the large collective of nanites that was keeping Dewdrop alive. He pinged them, and soon he had a blood chemistry report to thoroughly examine.

"Everything seems okay enough... There's the obvious marker chemicals for cellular trauma, but not nearly as much as I would expect after only four days of healing. High blood acidity still... Immune cells are-"

"Speak in layman's terms, Doctor. Will my remaining flesh heal back to its former strength?"

"Yes, your brain and head should make a full recovery after a few weeks of rest. Though-"

"Though I will be bodiless for the rest of my existence on the mortal plane. Merely an inconvenience. I had intended to settle down in a small village during my twilight years anyway. Your laboratory, and its people, will more than suffice."

He quickly suppressed some mixed emotions. "An elder dragon...? Just how old are you?"

"Twenty millennia, give or take a few centuries. Precision is unimportant."

"I've never heard of any dragon living that long..."

"No lifeform, mortal or immortal, has approached my age. I am the eldest being to ever exist on the mortal plane."

Doc bowed in respect. "I am honored to be graced by your presence." 

Dewdrop smirked in response. "Compose yourself, Doctor. You have been deemed worthy of my approval."

"I suppose that's a good start..."

"Doctor Foxworth... Do not take for granted the fact that I speak to you, not as a pitiful mortal worm, but as an intellectual being of immeasurable promise. You, Doctor, have my admiration as a healer, one better than most. You achieved something even I could not, and applied it selflessly with no consideration for recompense."

"I don't know what to say..."

"Then do not speak. Come, touch my forehead. Let me peruse the library of memories within your psyche."

Doc slowly approached. He was nervous to share such a bond with the dragoness, but refusal was hardly an option. He gently pressed his hand to her dusty, scuffed scales. He felt her enter his mind, and he let her in. His entire life flashed by within seconds, and the bond between them turned... warm... affectionate...

"You poor, wounded soul. You've fought hard for everything you've achieved. A childhood without a father, a mother who worked herself to death to keep you safe and fed... You risked everything on that one day..."

"Yes... The investor's meeting... They gave me five minutes... I was only able to manufacture enough nanites for one nonev fox... I had no idea if the nanites were going to work on a larger animal... I had to wow the investors with a display they would never forget... I was ten thousand dollars in debt... failure meant starvation and homelessness..."

"And when you swung the machete..."

"The fox survived total decapitation, unharmed..."

The bond changed. Dewdrop was flipping through more pages of Doc's mind. His likes and dislikes. His fears and his fetishes... She paused, and blushed.

"A neck fetish? My my, aren't we the kinky one?"

"I... I won't-"

Dewdrop giggled. "Hush, Doctor. I haven't said no."

Doc flushed bright red at her reply.

"You will get the chance, in time. When my strength is fully recovered." She mimed a yawn. "My telekinetic and transformation magic is lost to me at the moment, and they would benefit your pleasure greatly once they have returned. Until then, you may... massage my sore muscles for satisfaction."

"Thank you, Dewdrop."

"You saved my life, you earned it."

And with that, the bond broke. 

Doc was slightly disoriented by the sudden break, but he was quick to regain his bearings. The two shared a warm smile, then Doc grabbed a bucket full of warm water and a coarse wire brush from the cart. "Lavender, lemon, or mint scent?"

"All artificial analogues, I presume?"

"The mint one is real." Doc informed her.

"Then mint it shall be." Dewdrop finally seemed to be fully roused from her long slumber. She began mimicking speech with her mouth, something she was apparently very good at.

Doc happily dumped the entire bottle of minty soap into the bucket, and got himself ready to scrub. Unbuttoned lab coat, rolled-up sleeves: he was in serious work mode.

"Such dedication. Are you sure you aren't trying to seduce me?"

Once again, Dewdrop's uncanny deductions tripped up Doc. "Am I really that predictable?"

"I am twenty thousand years old. I have lost count of the number of mortals that have tried to mate with me. Take pride in the fact that I have not immediately rejected you."

"So, I am unique enough to grab your attention. A being of near godlike status has decided that I am worth their time.”

"You seem to be finally grasping the bigger picture, Doctor. Now scrub me down, before the water goes cold."

Doc nodded in agreement. He stirred the bucket until the suds passed the brim, and got to work scouring Dewdrop clean with the steel wire brush. 

Several minutes passed. A small spot of metallic gleam had been revealed under thick layers of callused scales and dirt. It was pretty to look at from various angles. Doc knew he had to reveal Dewdrop's true appearance now, even if it took hours. "How long has it been since you were scrubbed down thoroughly like this?" he asked.

"Three centuries ago, I took care of an African village's elephant invasion. They gave me a full week of the royal treatment as thanks. That included stripping my scales clean, as you are doing now."

"I can tell you are even more beautiful under all these layers of dirt."

Dewdrop giggled in response.

Doc had revealed more of the shimmering blue scales, enough now that he could press his entire hand against the spot. The bond returned, just enough for the dragoness to telepathically express her appreciation for the effort he was putting in.

Half an hour of silent scrubbing came and went. Words were not necessary, the tactile contact and empathic messages spoke volumes. Shards of old scales, suds, wet dust and dirt littered the aluminum tiles underfoot. The iridescent sky blue scales were... flawless. Doc was lost in their beauty, determined to reveal Dewdrop’s true face to the world. 

He finally got to a point where he was within reach of her perfectly cleaved neck. Dewdrop silently reminded him of her consent to a massage. At first, he only reached over with one hand and felt the rim of her neck. His fingers reached around until they felt the soft layer of meat immediately below her armored skin. Dragons didn't have much of a fat layer, and Dewdrop had even less than that. He noted that she was not much warmer than room temperature; a reminder that most dragons were cold blooded. 

"Would you like me to raise your internal temperature a bit? It would help you heal faster."

"Ninety one degrees Fahrenheit, if the measurement has not drifted over the centuries," she replied promptly.

Doc quickly input the instructions on the tablet. Thirty two point eight Celsius. The nanites immediately began churning out more heat across her entire bloodstream.

"Oh, yes, much improved... The soreness is already easing its grip."

Doc focused his attention on scrubbing around the back of her jawline while she warmed up. "The scientific community prefers to use Celsius nowadays. I can teach you the equation to convert between the two scales, if you'd like."

"Education is a never ending pursuit if you wish to keep up with the world. Go ahead. I have advanced arithmetic capabilities, taught to me by the Greek masters of centuries long past."

Doc quickly read the equation off Google. "Open parenthesis, Fahrenheit input, minus thirty two, closed parenthesis, multiplied by five over nine, equals Celsius output."  He tried to be as precise as possible in his wording.

Almost instantly, Dewdrop stated, "Thirty two... and seven ninths. Thank you Doctor."

"It's the least I could do to help you adjust. Feel free to ask me about any new scientific advances, I'll give you the summary explanation."

"First question... What is that brick of glass and metal you keep looking at?"

"Ah, it is..." Doc pondered how to explain it to her. "It is our device for accessing the global library of knowledge. Write in any question you have, and the library sends back a picture with the answer, within less than a second. Since nearly everyone has one of these devices, they are also commonly used for instant communication when you cannot meet face to face."

"Such did not exist the last time I interacted with civilization."

"The global library was created forty years ago. Devices to access it only became pocket sized... I want to say it's been less than twenty years."

"Ask the library. I want to see how it works."

Doc sat down close to Dewdrop's eye, so she could watch his every action on the tablet. The two quickly found out about the Nokia 9000, created in 1996.

"This is an alarming level of progress in only one century. Anthro civilization is nearing the singularity, and I nearly missed it because I was hibernating away some battle wounds."

Dewdrop paused.

"You need my guidance now more than ever. I have a lot to think about."

"As your doctor, I must insist that you first take the time to fully recover."

"I... must agree with you on that point... I am in no condition to guide a civilization through the ascension like this. I... depend on you, Doctor." 

"I will act as your right paw when the time comes. Believe me, I understand what is at stake."

"I am inclined to believe you. You do not strike me as the common rabble. You see what others do not."

"The singularity is still estimated to be forty years off from today. We have plenty of time for you to heal, with my help."

"Then I submit myself to you. I... believe you were in the middle of bathing me?"

Doc looked over at the bucket. It was definitely cold by now. He brought out his phone. "Tony, could you deliver a fresh bucket of hot water to the southwest corner of the hangar? Yes, right now. The filters can wait until after." He hung up and pocketed the phone. "He'll be here in ten minutes."

"Then I ask that you spend that time caring for my exposed flesh."

"I can do that, yes."

Doc scooted himself over to fully access Dewdrop's neck meat. The nanites were suppressing any formation of inflammation, infection, scar tissue, or crust, so the meat was as fresh as if it had never been cut. As he touched the exposed flesh, the telepathic bond reconnected stronger than before, and he expressed all of this information to her.

Then, Dewdrop did something Doc didn't quite expect, she accessed his vision. She was now looking at herself through his eyes.

"Curious how you look inside?" Doc asked.

"It is a new sight for me. I have decapitated other dragons in battle, yes, but it was bloody, and it was fatal."

"Then I will give you the full tour."

He pressed his hand into her upper neck muscles. Soft like any raw meat from the store, yet fully attached to her spine and scaled skin, like a support structure. She contracted her neck, and the meat sunk inward, pulling on connections that no longer existed.

"I see now why I can no longer effectively bend my neck..." she commented.

Doc moved his gaze down to her spinal column. An issue quickly became apparent.

"I am dripping fluids," she noted.

"Yes, cerebrospinal fluid. That needs to be plugged before your brain completely dehydrates."

"Use a glass cap," she demanded.

Doc suspected it was for his viewing pleasure as much as it was for her health. He instructed the nanites to form a temporary dam deeper inside, and continued downward.

"The clarity is wondrous. I can see every vessel and tunnel in great detail." She swallowed, and a splurt of saliva shot from her esophagus, onto the floor.

Doc's arousal shot through the roof. There was no way he could hide it with the intense bond they were sharing.

"So, that's the one you like. Most neck eroticists go for the airway due to its stiff ridges... I wonder why you turned out different?"

"Maybe because I still care about my partner's comfort. Semen in the windpipe is not exactly the most pleasant sensation, nanites or no nanites... Why exactly do you know so much about neck lovers?"

"I've met dozens of them, of varying species. I even helped a few fulfill their fantasies, via illusory telepathy."

"Did you ever anticipate you'd be doing it for real?"

"Expect the unexpected, Doctor. Always expect the unexpected."

The door to the hangar slid open. A tiger dressed in navy blue janitor's overalls walked in carrying the requested bucket of water. He whistled an unknown tune as he approached. "Here ya go boss. Steaming hot cleaning water, just like ya asked." Tony looked at the mess of flakes and dirt on the floor. "Want me to come back later and sweep up?"

"Yes, just as long as you don't disturb Dewdrop."

Tony did double finger guns, "Tk tk, you got it boss!" And walked off to resume changing filters.

"He's the cleaning master?" Dewdrop asked telepathically.

"He's good at it, and enthusiastic about it. Do you really need more from a laborer?"

"Usually not. Those two qualities tend to define the hardest workers. I may have a few uses for him."

Now that Doc had fresh water, he quickly got back to work scrubbing down Dewdrop. More and more gleaming scales were revealed as the minutes went by. Again, the pair were content to just share a wordless emotional bond. The debris pile grew. Doc had taken note of the fact that the freshly grown scales underneath were completely impervious to the coarse wire brush, so no matter how hard he scrubbed, she would be fine. They probably contained metallic compounds, which would explain the iridescence. Maybe Dewdrop would let him test one...

"You have an entire dragon body worth of scales to test. Use those, not mine."

Dewdrop was apparently listening in on his thoughts. It startled him. "Sorry... I forgot that you'd donated everything I couldn't save."

"Dragons do not believe in ritual burials. The victor gets everything, to do with whatever they see fit. That includes limbs lost in battle."

"I can see how that makes sense. Though, completely disowning your entire body seems a bit... extreme?"

"It served its purpose for twenty thousand years, and now it has a new purpose." Dewdrop paused. "I can sense your unease on the subject. If you wish, I shall give my own opinions on what I want done with it."

"Please do."

"Give the meat to your cook. If necessary I can teach him techniques for cooking dragon meat properly."

"Acceptable, do continue."

"The skin can be sewn into armor for your soldiers. The bones can be ground down into a potent bonemeal.”

"And your organs...?"

"Inedible in their current condition. Use them for education. Study them. Write about them for the global library. Then use them as fertilizer."

"That all works. Thank you."

"Thank me, by letting nothing go to waste."

He nodded. By now he was around to the other side of her neck, scraping clean the last patch of scales. Again, he reached over with one hand to feel the edge of her neck. 

Dewdrop pushed into his contact. "I still have yet to receive that massage, Doctor."

"Patience. There is much to clean, and far more to discuss." 

"It doesn't all need to happen in one day. You may take a break. You have proven your dedication to me."

The last bit of callus fell before Doc's mighty brush. He stepped back to examine his work.

She was absolutely stunning to look at. Beautiful, gorgeous, captivating. Words did not suffice. Trying to describe her with them was a sin of understatement. It was better to just bask in her image.

"Like what you see?"

Doc could only reply with a slow, careful nod.

"Then you've earned your reward. Come, claim it." Dewdrop wiggled side to side in a seductive fashion.

Doc was entranced. Enslaved by his more primal urges, he walked forward and knelt down behind her. 

"Don't lose control now, Doctor. This is just a massage, nothing more," she reminded him.

He pressed both hands into her upper neck musculature. Warm, moist, soft... and so much larger than any other neck he had touched, except maybe Luna's. He began gently kneading away her tension and aches.

The trauma of telekinetically ripping her own head off with no medications still stung at her subconscious, and she had to remind herself that what had happened was the best case scenario. Any delay would have meant permanent brain damage, or worse. She was alive, and predicted to make a full recovery. That was all anyone could've asked for.

She focused on Doc's hands. On her own meat.

While she wasn't actually feeling the acute pain of severed nerve fibers (Thank you nanites!), the chemicals associated with cellular decay were saturating everything, causing them to randomly fire off weak pain signals. In short, everything ached. Especially her neck.

But as Doc's kneading squeezed acids and enzymes away from her sensory nerves, they calmed down. The toxins leached into her blood vessels, where an army of nanobots was eager to break them down into far nicer, beneficial compounds. 

Doc was moving his efforts down to either side of her centrally-located spine. Muscles that once worked to let her look left and right were now gently purged of waste and decay. Slowly he moved down. His hands met her major arteries, the contents of which were mostly reminiscent of liquid mercury. Her remaining blood volume was barely enough to elicit a reddish hue. He pinched them. The pliable, thick walled vessels squeezed shut, and the nanites reacted by retracting inward. He let go. The nanite mass bounced right back as if nothing had happened. He did the same with the nearby veins. Their thinner walls gave little resistance, but again, not a drop was spilled.

He massaged downward, until his hands gradually met in the center. Her esophagus and trachea. They looked so enticing...

"Don't get any ideas, Doctor. It's just a massage, remember?" she had to remind him again.

"Right... Feel any better?" He broke out of his trance.

"Markedly better. Your fingers are a blessing. However, I wish to rest for now. Go, tackle your daily challenges with confidence and vigor. Do so with the knowledge that I owe my life to your intelligence and quick thinking. You have my favor. I anticipate your return tomorrow morning."

"I'll see you then." Dewdrop needed rest, and he wasn’t fond of keeping her awake too long in her current condition. He stood up, and gathered the used cleaning supplies. He left without a further word or gesture to her, but a proud smile still graced his maw.

His thoughts drifted as he pushed the cart down the hall. Another life was saved, but this one was objectively far more important than any other. She had chosen his lab to be her final home, and he was probably her favored method of interacting with the world as a whole. The pressure was undeniable, but he kept calm. There was much to do, but first and foremost, he was her doctor. He had to ensure her recovery went without issue. He added the glass plug to his to-do list, and parked the cart in the nearest storage closet.