Title: It Didn't Even Remotely Fulfill the Definition of "Entrapment"
Note: Written for Gen Drabbles Challenge 37 (Draft).

Torin Pon had specific environmental preferences, and this room was too cold for him. The door at his back gapped, and cool air leached through. He couldn't concentrate.

"I can't give you more than one bar for the four of them," said the Ferengi, and Pon couldn't muster the eloquence to argue. If only there were time to go elsewhere . . .

"Could I have a hot drink?" he asked.

As Pon waited, the draft stopped, and by the time the Ferengi returned with a cup of tejjamon, the room was bearable.

Twenty minutes later, Pon was in a too-warm holding cell.