Once more Mal found himself standing in the cargo bay doorway musing out into the whiteness, cursing the fact that he had to venture into it. Footsteps and voices coming from the catwalk overhead told him Simon was about to join him, and he turned his head to at least greet him with a glance. He arrived together with Zoë and was giving her his last instructions.

"Keep an eye on his breathing and his temperature," Mal heard him say as they came to a rest next to him. "Now, the fever's there for a reason, it'll help him get better sooner, but you should check it regularly and if it gets much higher, give him this."

He put something small wrapped in white plastic in the palm of Zoë's outstretched hand, and there was pause as she studied the tiny object. She then glanced back up at him, still not revealing any emotion whatsoever. "Does this go where I think it does?" she calmly asked.

Mal shuddered, thinking for a moment that he might have drawn the longest stick after all. Simon looked both embarrassed and apologetic at the same time. "Er, yes," he admitted.

Zoë remained collected as always. "Lovely," she dryly responded and just turned to face Mal instead. "Good huntin', sir, and be careful, both of you."

Mal nodded. "We'll be on radio, if the weather allows it. If you haven't heard from us by tomorrow morning, take the shuttle and do a sweep-over."

"Will do."

"Tomorrow?" Simon repeated, eyes wide with worry.

"Having second thoughts?" Mal asked, then punched him lightly in the back. "We'll be fine. Let's get goin'. We only have a few hours of so-called daylight left."

They stepped out into the snow and as Zoë closed the door behind them, they started trotting their way through it. Mal threw Simon a sideways glance and noticed that the doctor for once had dressed correctly for the occasion. He was wearing his thickest wool coa