A/N okay, I wrote this in my head when I was lying in bed trying to sleep. On paper - er, screen - it doesn't seem as good, but then it probably only seemed good to me in the first place 'cos I was zombified at the time. Ho hum. A little backstory, which isn't needed, but may come in to play if I decided to write more in this time frame: We are about 4 years post BDM and the Alliance is holding onto power by the skin of their teeth. It isn't a WAR as such, but an outbreak of terrorism, and of course, Serenity are caught up in it, but they have NOT repeat NOT joined any kind of army. Tee hee.

Erm, Henry is a real bear - my friends. He is small and brown, and you know, a bear. My OWN childhood toy is Bunny, but I felt giving him to Simon would be a bit, well, gay.

So, with no further ado, enjoy. Oh, and bear in mind I NEVER write action on account of the fact that I CAN'T. So this is a lil outta my comfort zone.

Comment. Please?

Something, For Sure

Simon fell on his back. Hard. His head cracked against the gritty ground, hanging awkwardly off the end of Serenity’s ramp. The sky was grey and stained red. Red with blood. So different from the blue sky of Osiris he remembered. He gave himself a moment, a split second in time to wallow in the pain, to lose himself in the stars that had erupted in front of his eyes. It was a trick he’d learned as a surgeon, where a split second was all you had to make a life or death decision. Let the fear envelop you. And then let it go.

His body had barely come to rest on the ground before he was moving again, rolling on to his belly and crawling. He grabbed the pistol that had slipped from his hand and elbowed his way backwards, never leaving the ground. A hand grabbed him and yanked him back, helping his progress considerably. He found himself once more crouched behind a rusty crate, bullets flying over his head.

“Gotta say, doc, you’re impressin’ me more n’ more by the minute,” Mal told him, a roguish grin on his reawakened features as he release