It�s dark in space. Blacker than the blackest black.
It�s close in the enviro-suit. Hard to breath the stale, recycled air.
He�s trying to breathe, trying not to hyperventilate. Trying to imagine warm arms around him, holding him against the bulk of Serenity. But the arms aren�t, they�re not, they�re pushing him away, hoping that he will hit the floating derelict.
And suddenly, he�s flying free for just a moment�
Until the palpable, inaudible thud, and Mal�s there, voice crackling with laughter across the comm, �Nice trip, doc?�
Simon closes his eyes, and relaxes into the arms that caught him.