Reed Is Hurt

"Doctor," Reed Richards said, and extended his hand.

"Doctor," Karla Stone, and shook the hand of the most intelligent man in the world. "Thank you for accepting my invitation."

Reed hesitated. He was in a dark blue suit, with a black tie that had small white polka dots, and shoes that were formal but hadn't been polished recently. She stepped aside and guided him into the office. His eyes took in the large window overlooking Central Park, the massive, ancient desk, scanned the titles of the books on the wall and memorized them at a glance. There were two chairs by the window, and a little table with the teapot and heating element.

"Please, have a seat," she said.

For someone so fluid of form, he sat stiffly, awkwardly. Dr. Stone could see the tension in his body.

"As you know, I've been treating your wife for the last several weeks," she said as she sat opposite him. "While doctor-client confidentiality prevents me from discussing the details of our discussions, I have been hoping to gain more insight on her life from someone in a position to know."

Reed nodded. He watched as she poured the tea, accepted a cup. Breathed in the steam, then took a careful sip. Floral, metallic. Probably thinking about the individual molecules that caused those flavors. She could see now that he couldn't stop thinking. His brain was on all the time. It was something she had noticed about geniuses. The restlessness, the inability to turn it off.

"You already have Sue's account, I presume," he said. "So you want my perspective? I'm not very comfortable talking about our private lives."

"What I want," Dr. Stone said. "Is your emotional response. Things have changed in the bedroom. The LMD. Changes in Sue's preferences. How does that make you feel?"

Reed paused, considered. He stared down into the teacup.

"Hurt," he said at last. A sigh let out of his body, and within the suit he seemed to deflate a little. "She called my cock limp, pathetic. Gushed about the big black cock on the LMD. Wondered what it would be like to try more LMDs modeled after black men. I know she didn't intend to be mean, but the words—and the implications—upset me. I wish I was enough for her. To satisfy her. I want to make her happy. I tried to make her happy. It was...a successful experiment, but not in the way I had hoped."

Dr. Stone nodded.

"And what," she asked very carefully. "Are you going to do about it?"