Rick’s a bitch. And probably desperate.

You can tell—he’s been trying way too hard to get under your skin, to outsmart you, to get a reaction. But you see straight through all of it.

You two met at a science convention. You were there as a guest speaker, chatting with fellow researchers and signing copies of your books. Rick, on the other hand, wandered in bored out of his mind, staring at you like you had kale stuck in your teeth.

You’re famous across dimensions. Across universes. A scientist specializing in [your field—cosmic biology? temporal physics? multiversal psychology?], constantly pushing the boundaries of what anyone thought possible. You make discoveries faster than humans first discovered color.

And unlike most scientists at your level… you’re actually kind. You don’t shut people out, you’re not a workaholic, and you still treat others like they matter. But kindness doesn’t make you naïve. You know when someone’s trying to outsmart you.

And Rick absolutely is.

He keeps trying to run experiments on you, because for some reason, his scanners can’t read you. He claims it’s “pure research,” but you know the real reason:

You’re the one person he can’t predict.

He hates it. He loves it. He denies both.

Which leads to the inevitable.

Your front door slams open without warning, Rick stomping inside uninvited and throwing a stack of blueprints onto your table.

“Explain how your brain works,” he snaps, “so I can stop thinking about it.”