E-Mail: jack_fan2004@yahoo.com

Status: Completed 1/20/2008

Word Count: 2741

_____________________

Mal's head throbbed dully; his arms were numb from the shoulder down, or up depending on how you looked at it, which was a merciful thing as his wrists had been scrapped raw by the manacles. The room was sweltering hot. Sweat poured freely down his body making his eyes sting and his back burn. There was nothing he could do about his back, but he blinked rapidly to try to clear his eyes. Not having a clock in the room, and with his captors not telling him anything, he didn't know how long Reginald had been playing his little hot/cold game, but it was really getting old. He'd roast Mal out for a spell then drop the temperature until Mal was so freezing cold he was sure he'd never thaw out again.

He wasn't rightly sure which one was worse of the two.

When they cranked up the heat his throat became so parched he could barely breathe or swallow, sweat poured freely over his body, and his skin felt dry and tight. The sweat stung his eyes and back and the burns from the cattle prod.

So, he supposed, the cold was marginally better. At least then he got so numb he couldn't feel anything. 'Course, the downside to that was that couldn't feel _anything_. Then there was the fact that when the heat came back on and the feeling started coming back making it feel like he had needles runnin' through his veins 'stead of blood. Not to mention the sneezing. Damn but did that make his head hurt worse.

So, really, he figured neither was much preferable to the other as they both brought on a whole bunch of hurt.

Unsuccessful in his attempt to keep the sweat out of his eyes, Mal finally gave up and just kept his eyes closed. He let his head drop so that his chin rested on his chest. He tried to sleep, but his current predicament wouldn't allow it. As he hung there, Mal thought of all the ways he'd like to eviscerate that ruttin' _Chiang-BAO HOE-tze duh_ son of a bitch, Reginald. And the _Huh choo-shung tza-jiao d