It felt … odd. His eyes were still closed, and he was pretty sure he was alive, but it didn’t feel like his room. For a start there was movement, just beyond the reach of his understanding. And a sound, a sort of hum, that vibrated through his chest. Very odd.

“He’s awake.”

It was a girl’s voice. At least, that’s what it sounded like. Not that he’d had that much to do with girls in his shortish life, what with going into the Abbey at a young age, and before that always being somewhat awkward …

“And he’s thinking about girls.” Now she sounded as if she were trying not to laugh.

That was too much. He opened his eyes into a brightness above him that made him blink rapidly.

“You’re all right,” said a man, his accent the same as the girl’s, but his intonation professional, caring. “Just lay still.” A face swam into view. “You have a slight concussion, but that’s to be expected.”

“They were kicking you,” the girl spoke again. “Jayne stopped them.”

The man moved back, to be replaced by … “River?” he said, his voice croaking.

She smiled. “Hello, Jethro.”

“What … where …” He struggled to sit up but the man pushed him back down.

“Not yet,” he said, smiling, his almost black hair a contrast to his blue eyes. “Now you’re awake I just want to run a couple of tests before I let you out of here.”

“Tests? Out of here?” He suddenly realised just how stupid he must sound. “Where is here?”

River, her dark hair hanging either side of her face, took his left hand in hers. “Serenity. You’ve been looking for me.”

“No, I … Serenity?”

“She’s a Firefly,” came a different voice, and he looked over towards it. A man stood in the doorway, his arms crossed. He was tall, wearing a soft russet shirt that looked old and comfortable. Dark pants, somewhat tight, were held up by brown leather suspenders over his shoulders, and tucked into workmanlike boots. He wasn’t wearing a gun, but the impression, overwhelmingly, was of one at his hip. “That’s her name, Serenity. My boat.”