Sue Is Too Wracked With Guilt To Return

"I just...I can't believe I actually did that!"

They sat, not in Dr. Stone's office, but in the living room of the psychiatrist's sparsely-furnished apartment. The emergency phone call from the Invisible Woman had led to Sue Storm on a leather chair, elbows on knees, hands gripping a cup of tea with terrible intensity.

"Oh God...what am I going to tell Reed?" Sue said.

Dr. Stone sipped her tea. She had been getting ready for bed, and wore only a silky pink nightgown with a thin black robe thrown over it, not even tied together. Pink slippers bobbed on her feet, which were stretched out before her on a small black leather ottoman, ankles crossed.

"Why do you need to tell him anything?" Dr. Stone asked.

"He's my husband!" Sue said. There were tears in the heroine's eyes.

"And?" Dr. Stone raised an eyebrow. "Do you tell him about every little biological function? Every queef and fart?"

Sue Storm's nose wrinkled.

"This is different," the heroine insisted.

"That is where you are wrong, Susan," Dr. Stone said. "An orgasm is a perfectly natural, even essential function of a woman's body. If you went in for a gynecology exam and you accidentally came on the doctor's hand, would you tell your husband about it?"

Sue blinked. She hadn't really considered that before.

"M...maybe?" she said. "We don't keep secrets from each other."

Dr. Stone's gaze was full of pity. "Oh come now, Susan. You know that isn't true. You've told me yourself that Reed has secret projects, meetings he gets up to with other heroes he doesn't inform you of, plans within plans...and you have a few secrets of your own, don't you? Your little covert work for S.H.I.E.L.D.?"

Sue frowned. "We agreed not to talk about that."

"And we won't," Dr. Stone assured her. "But what you need to realize, Susan, is that secrets are a necessary part of a relationship. While we pride ourselves on openness and honesty with our spouses and family, there are always parts of ourselves that we keep to ourselves. The stack of porn your brother keeps beneath their bed, the vibrator you keep in the sock drawer, the time Reed caught a glimpse of the Thing in the shower...these are things that either your husband doesn't need to know about or you don't need to know about. Your life is better that way."

The Invisible Woman chewed over that thought. She sipped her tea. Dr. Stone watched her.

"But you still feel guilty about it," Dr. Stone said, after a long, tense silence.

"Yes," Sue admitted. "I feel like I cheated on him."

"That's not why you feel guilty," Dr. Stone said. "Is it?"

"Not...entirely," Sue said.

Dr. Stone took her feet off the ottoman so she could lean forward.

"You feel guilty because it felt good. Not just because it was a sexual encounter outside of your marriage, but because you came harder than you have with him, didn't you?"

Sue Storm's cheeks burned with shame. She nodded.

The psychiatrist sighed and pursed her lips. "I see we're going to have to work on that."

The Invisible Woman raised her head. Her brow was furrowed.

"Work on that?" she said. "How?"

"Your psychological hangup is because a stranger made you cum. What we need to do is get you acclimated to massage. To see it as something impersonal. Not to be ashamed about. The most direct way to do that is to find someone you know, someone you have a personal connection to, and have them massage you."

Sue opened her mouth to protest, but Dr. Stone held up a hand.

"No, I'm not saying you try for another happy ending. But I do think you need to learn that just getting a massage doesn't count as infidelity."