"So, you've finished reading through all of the case files," Bulma said. The man sitting across from her, an innocuous sort with a balding head, a fuzzy red sweater, and thick glasses, looked up at her from the folders spread across the desk. "Do you have any questions?"

"Doctor Briefs, I don't think I'm the right person for this job," the man said quietly. He picked up one of the files at random, and flipped it open. "So, this man has been alive for over three hundred years, lives alone on an island with a turtle, and can turn into, for lack of a better term, an ogre. And this one. Crash-landed on our planet, apparently underwent a drastic personality change due to a traumatic brain injury, and has basically been at the epicenter of every extinction level event mankind has dealt with for the last twenty years or so. I have to be honest – I don't think a regular psychologist is going to work for this."

"Doctor Shrink, you're literally the world's foremost authority on therapeutic psychology," Bulma said. "Given that any Saiyan psychologists that happened to exist were killed along with their colony, you're it. If you think you're going to have trouble, imagine if I dumped these guys on some poor social worker."

"No, no," Shrink said, putting a hand up. "I didn't say I wasn't willing to take the job, I just wanted to warn you – I can't guarantee results. Everybody processes the stress of combat differently, and the same is true for trauma. It can be a difficult time for some, and this is taking only human psychology into account. I'll also be talking with Saiyans, half-Saiyans, and… I'm not sure of this one's ethnicity."

"Namekian," Bulma said smoothly. "He probably won't need much counseling, but I felt it would be insulting to leave him out."

"I see," said Shrink. He looked through a few more, and then stopped. "I ask out of professionalism – it is appropriate for me to be treating members of your family as well?"

"I don't see any harm in it," Bulma said. "Trunks could probably use it. Vegeta… you'll have an interesting conversation, I'm sure."

"And this fellow," the psychologist said. "He was responsible for that so-called earthquake that happened in the polar region a bit over a month ago? Since then, he was kidnapped, his friends were held captive, and he… uh… beat up a god? Doctor Briefs, is this…"

"That's Broly. Goku already took him back to Vampa, you won't actually be treating him," Bulma said in a serious tone. "I know, it's a lot to take in at once, but it's all real. If you're worried about your own safety, don't be. It's kind of strange, but it seems like the more powerful fighters are also the most gentle."

With a soft slap, the folder bearing her husband's picture landed on the table in front of her. Shrink raised an eyebrow.

"There are always exceptions," Bulma said.

DRAGON BALL EXODUS

Interlude – The Psychologist

This is a work of fanfiction, using characters from the Dragon Ball series, and is intended to be seen as a hypothetical continuation of the anime version of Dragon Ball Super (immediately following the Tournament of Power). All characters and settings in this work that are not original are the property of the owners of the Dragon Ball franchise.

Subject: Goku

On first glance, he appears to be well-adjusted. He's friendly, without any signs of it being forced or insincere. The only odd thing I'm noticing is that he tends to fidget excessively, almost to the point of being a tic. From reading his dossier, he probably just dislikes sitting for long periods.

"So, I was on the tractor, prepping a field for lettuce, and I see another group of reporters heading to my house," Goku said in annoyance. He mentioned the reporters in our first session as well. "I had to park it and fly over to get them out of there. Chi-chi and Goten both don't like dealing with them."

"Why do you think your family feels uncomfortable around these reporters?" Shrink asked.

"I think… they feel the same as I do. It's not like someone asking to know your point of view, they're looking for something that will get them a bigger audience," Goku said, his brow furrowed in thought. "Look, I know I've done a lot, but I'm a pretty simple guy. I want to get stronger, eat well, and take care of my family."

Very well adjusted, actually. Again, everything he says is completely genuine. His file indicated that he was pretty irresponsible, but I'm not seeing it. At least, not in his present state.

"You realize that you could use your fame to get more money," Shrink said. "Offer an interview or two, or agree to speak somewhere. Even just signing autographs. Probably easier than farming."

"No way," Goku said, shaking his head. "I don't like making speeches, or doing interviews, or signing things. Farming is kind of boring, but it's peaceful. Right now, peaceful is pretty nice. Doc, I guess I just don't like being famous."

Subject: Tien

"Fame? Fame is amazing," Tien said, an uncharacteristic smile on his face. His history led me to expect a rather cold and stoic person, but he seems very happy. "Do you have any idea how many applicants the New Crane School has had since that broadcast? Not only do I have more students than I know how to do with, we've received enough donations to open up facilities to train them all. It would have taken me over a decade to get this far!"

"It sounds like the events of the invasion worked out in your favor," Shrink said.

"Yeah," Tien said, his smile faltering. "I feel like I got lucky, but I definitely earned that luck. A week ago, I was fighting in space in the backyard of Mars. Two months ago, I was fighting in the Tournament of Power. I've been fighting like this my entire life. I'm not going to turn down any luck that comes my way, Doctor. I'm going to use it."

"I actually can't blame you," Shrink said. "Now, this may sound like a strange question, but have you heard of the inkblot test?"

"The what?" Tien asked.

Subject: Master Roshi

"When I hold up the picture, tell me the first thing that comes into your mind. Don't hold back," Shrink said.

"Pretty girl, lounging at the beach," the old man said, his cheeks red. For this guy, at least, the dossier is one hundred percent correct. No real mental illness of any sort; he's just a garden variety pervert.

"And this one?" Shrink asked.

"Two pretty girls playing…" Roshi leaned forward, adjusting his glasses. "Pinochle, I think."

An interesting choice. I doubt it has any significance however. Without a word, he stowed the second picture and held up the third. Almost instantly, a thin trickle of blood leaked out of the old man's right nostril.

"Are-are you allowed to show me that?" Roshi asked, seemingly awed. "Can I get a copy?"

Subject: Vegeta

"How do you think I felt about it? It was humiliating," Vegeta said. "My power is gone, I'm fading out, and there's a purple version of me running around mis-using my abilities."

"No offense, but this seems to be a reoccurring theme," Shrink said. I'm going to have to take it easy with this guy. He seems to default to defensiveness even in casual conversation.

"Tell me about it," Vegeta replied, looking up at the ceiling. "The things I went through before I got to Earth, no matter how bad, have paled in comparison to what I've suffered since I arrived. I've had to do things I'm not proud of to reach my goals, but I have no shame about it."

Actually, you kind of do. This guy's on the high functioning high self-critical side of the Dunning-Kruger Syndrome. The same relentless drive that allows him to succeed also makes him second-guess himself. It's like living with a built-in frustration generator, and it shows.

"Are you ready to talk about the meeting with the King?" the psychologist asked. Vegeta's eyes narrowed, and Shrink found himself swallowing with a suddenly dry mouth. He cleared his throat. "Your wife mentioned that it could be a possible topic of discussion, nothing more."

"My wife sometimes talks too much," Vegeta replied. "No, I'm not. No offense, but I don't really trust you."

"That's fine, actually," the psychologist said, grinning. "You don't know me. A different question then, one that I'm personally curious about. What's it like to achieve the status of a god?"

The Saiyan just looked at him, nonplussed. After a moment, he shrugged.

"You're not a fighter. I don't know how I could explain it to you," Vegeta said. "I guess it would be like if you found out you were a god of psychology."

The former prince's gaze tracked to the diploma on the wall. Unconsciously, the contents of it ran through Shrink's mind. West City University, doctorate in psychology.

"I'm not sure what a god of psychology would do," Shrink said. "Research and treat… gods?"

Subject: ?

"I don't think I've seen your dossier, Mister…" the psychologist trailed off.

"Whis," the tall man said with a polite smile. He just walked in here like he had an appointment. Did Doctor Briefs forget to give me a dossier?

"Well," Shrink said, slightly red in the face. "I honestly do not recall having an appointment with you. My apologies."

"Not necessary. You didn't," Whis said. "I just noticed that so many people were coming and going from this little office, and I was curious about it."

"Ah, well," Shrink said. Okay, that explains it. "I was hired by the Capsule Corporation to provide mental health treatment to some of the high-profile defenders in the recent invasion."

"Oh! Well, I do not think I will need your services," Whis said airily. "My kind is beyond such forms of intervention."

"Your… kind?" Shrink asked.

"They call us angels," Whis said. So, what's the chance of a random person with delusional psychosis just walking into my office? Just, statistically speaking. Probably pretty low, right? Shit. Almost involuntary, Shrink picked up his notepad and started scribbling.

"And how long ago did you become one of these angels?" Shrink asked, focusing on the pad.

"Four… billion years ago, or so? It's very easy to lose track," Whis said. Oh, this is good.

"So… if you're an angel, what god do you serve?" Shrink asked.

"That would be Beerus-sama, the god of destruction for this universe," the angel replied. Beerus-sama? Making a note – possible alcoholism.

"What do you do for him?" Shrink asked.

"Oh my, that's quite a list," Whis said. "These two are the most important. First off, I train him in martial arts. Second, I restrain his power if he gets out of control for whatever reason. For his own good, mind you."

"Of course," Shrink said. He heard a noise in the hallway, and then the door opened. He looked up, and his jaw dropped. What in the actual fuck?

Standing framed in the doorway was a purple bipedal cat with extremely long ears, wearing an enormous amount of jewelry. Shrink found himself goggling at the sight. His erstwhile patient however, had a very different reaction.

"Oh, Beerus-sama! Dr. Shrink, this is the god I told you about," Whis said. Not delusional. Definitely not an alcoholic. I… may have misjudged this one.

"Whis, I need you to take me back to the Tree," the cat god said in a deep voice.

"Certainly," Whis said. He stood and smiled at the baffled human. "You really didn't think I was serious? Shame on you. Well, at least now you know better."

With that, he touched the god on his right shoulder and both of them vanished.

I want a drink.

Subject: Dill

"I want my friend back," she said simply. After a moment, she sighed. "I know all I have to do is wait for the dragon balls and they'll come back with the rest, but I still miss him."

"That's very reasonable," Shrink said. "Is there anything else that you want?"

"I've been thinking," she began, tapping her fingers on the arm of the worn couch. "Are there people who prevent wars?"

"Well, yes. We usually call them diplomats," Shrink replied. "I'm a little surprised; I figured this would be about baseball."

"I still love that game," she said, grinning. "But not for a career. How do you become a diplomat?"

"You go to school. I think they usually start by studying political science or law," Shrink said. He shrugged lightly. "I've never been one myself."

"I'm going to do that. I'm going to become a diplomat," she said firmly. That's kind of amazing. If she pulls it off, it could be a really inspiring story. "I'm going to beat all of the other diplomats, and be the best diplomat ever!"

"Whoa! No," Shrink said, waving his hands. "Time out. That's not what diplomacy is about. You ah… talk to people. Negotiate with them, bargain with them. You use words, not weapons."

"I guess I could do that," she said dubiously. "Isn't it easier just to make them behave?

"That's an option, but diplomats almost always negotiate first," Shrink said. She nodded slowly.

"I'm kind of glad New Sadala is going to have a library," Dill mused. "I'm going to need it."

Subject: Goten

"I need to take it easy for another couple of days," the boy said. He still looked somewhat worn, but far better than he had been on the day after the battle.

"You may be right," Shrink said. "Are you feeling better? You were ill the last time we spoke."

"Delayed onset ki disorder," Goten said, grimacing. "Trunks had it too. It's terrible."

"It sounds much like what happens to athletes," Shrink said. "Is this from what happened at the battle?"

"Yeah," Goten replied. "We were exhausted when it ended. I was so glad that it was over. I mean, I like fighting, but that was awful. I couldn't just win. I had to hurt people. Even to kill people. Lots of people. I don't ever want to have to do that again."

"Good," the doctor said approvingly. "It's not really good to enjoy war, or hurting people. I don't blame anyone who has to fight to protect someone else, but it's not supposed to be fun."

"It's not," Goten said. "And on top of that, my family is famous now."

"I've heard. All of you are celebrities," Shrink said. "You seem to have gotten quite the fan club out of it."

"Oh no," Goten said, shaking his head. "I've seen that website. Apparently there are a few thousand girls that seem to be obsessed with everything that I do. It's really creepy, Doc."

"Isn't there a similar fan site for your friend Trunks?" Shrink asked. Goten nodded.

"That one's been around for a while. Girls always had a thing for him," Goten said. He grinned ruefully. "I was kind of jealous, but he kept saying that he didn't like it. Now I understand."

"Your family does seem to be having a publicity issue," Shrink admitted. "That broadcast put all of you into the spotlight. The Briefs family was used to celebrity, but the same is not true for yours."

"Exactly," Goten said. "But, what should I do about it?"

"Well, your father chose to ignore it. Your mother doesn't want to deal with it," the doctor said. "You could use it to your benefit if you wanted to."

"Hmm… I could always use more money," Goten said.

Subject: Android Seventeen

"For once, we actually have enough funding," the ranger said, wearing a little smile. "Since I'm a global hero now and everything, suddenly procurement is moving very quickly."

"That's very good. I take it that the Royal Park is still open for business after the invasion?" Shrink asked.

"Of course it is," Seventeen said. "It barely took any damage. The Saiyans lured almost the entire enemy force into New Sadala and just started tearing them apart. It's possibly the most brutal fighting I've ever seen, and I spend my days around wild animals."

"Sounds very graphic. Have you had any issues with sleep? Flashbacks?" the doctor asked.

"Screening me for PTSD? Don't bother," Seventeen said, grinning. "I'm sleeping just fine, and I've never had a flashback in my life. My family is safe, my Park is safe. I'm good, Doc."

"It's really that simple?" Shrink asked, resting his writing pad on his knee.

"It is for me," Seventeen replied.

Subject: Taroa

"Not for me," she said, shaking her head. "No offense, but I don't think you really get Saiyan psychology just yet."

"You're right, I probably don't," Shrink admitted. "None of the Saiyans, or even the half-Saiyans really, seem to be particularly traumatized by what happened out there. By human standards, fighting in those kinds of battles would be emotionally scarring. Unless the person was used to such conflicts."

"We're definitely not like that. At least, not those of us who fight on a regular basis," Taroa said. "Some of us genuinely prefer to live peaceful lives. That's okay. If we all did nothing but fight, we'd go extinct. Hell, my husband is a peaceful guy, and I'm glad. If he was a fighter, we'd constantly have to compete. Also, he'd be terrible at it. I'd probably beat him up a lot."

"This is the first time you've mentioned your family," Shrink said.

"Husband. Two boys. They went down with the colony. I miss them," she said. "Quite a bit. But I know that I just have to wait."

"You know… I don't really think you need therapy," Shrink said. The difference in reaction between a primarily tool-using race and a primarily warlike race is staggering. She was in the thick of the fighting, and is personally responsible for killing thousands, and she's completely unaffected by it. She's sitting here wistful about her husband and kids. Given that she's in charge of the rebuilding effort, I think she's better off focusing on that.

"I agree. I don't," Taroa said. "Can I go now?"

Shrink made a gesture toward the door.

Subject: Yamcha

Yamcha made a gesture like swinging a bat, and then made a cracking noise with his tongue.

"So I hit the ball, and it just soars right over the fence, a picture perfect home run," Yamcha said. It sounds like he should be happy about this, but… he's not? "I start running the bases, and both teams in unison start chanting 'Run, hero, run!'. The audience picks up on it. By the time I get to third, I've got fifty thousand people yelling at me. I don't mind being in the spotlight, but that was kind of scary."

"That's a reasonable reaction," Shrink said. "But you still got a home run, regardless of what else occurred."

"Yeah, I keep telling myself that. Here, look at this," Yamcha said. He held up his cell phone. Screen after screen of messages popped up one after another. "All texts from my teammates giving me shit about Mr. Satan's broadcast. They're still… look, there's another one right now! They've been doing this for days."

"I hate to change the subject, but you were in the middle of the fighting. Have you had any issues sleeping or…" Shrink didn't get a chance to finish his question.

"No," Yamcha interrupted. "Doc, I used to be a bandit; literally a professional criminal. The only trauma I'm suffering right now is having a whole pack of assholes for teammates. Unless you want to hear me complain about jerks being jerks, I don't think this is useful for me."

"You're not required to be here, and honestly, you probably don't need to be," the doctor said.

"Clean bill of health," Yamcha said, standing and stretching. "Thanks, Doc."

Subject: Piccolo

"Thanks, Doc," the Namekian said sarcastically. "If you have no idea what my psychology is, why are you trying to counsel me?"

"That's a good question," Shrink said neutrally. "I like to think that some experiences are universal."

"True, to some extent," Piccolo said grudgingly. "Look, you do know who I am, right?"

"Piccolo. Formerly Piccolo Junior, essentially the reincarnation of King Piccolo," Shrink said. "I know this before I read your dossier. That first tournament you fought in, I remember watching it on television."

"You must have been a kid back then," Piccolo said. "That was a long time ago."

"I was a kid," Shrink said. "I had actually forgotten who Son Goku was until Mr. Satan's interview, but you are a bit harder to forget. Not many green people on Earth. I have to ask, how is the return to fame treating you since the broadcast?"

"It's not," Piccolo said, his expression inscrutable.

"Excuse me?" Shrink said.

"If they can't find me, they can't bother me," Piccolo said. "They can't comb every out of the way place on the planet."

"Good point," Shrink said. "You know, I'm surprised you came out here today."

"I had no interest in this at all," Piccolo said bluntly. "But I felt that turning it down would be insulting to Bulma. I feel like we all kind of owe her one at this point."

"I see what you mean," said the doctor.

Subject: Gohan

"I see what you mean," Gohan said. "It's just… hard to give myself permission to relax, you know? I've got a conference coming up where I need to present, and my PI is on my back about it. Meanwhile, Dad and Vegeta keep pushing me to train, and I barely have time to spend with Videl and Pan."

"It sounds like you need to prioritize," Shrink said. "What will you focus on?"

"Well, my career is non-negotiable," Gohan said firmly. "I can't let a doctorate gather dust on my wall. And my family isn't negotiable either. I'm not going to miss out on Pan's childhood the way that my own father missed out on so much of mine."

"And the training?" Shrink asked. Gohan was silent for moment. The half-Saiyan seemed to be studying a piece of contemporary sculpture that Shrink had mounted on the wall. That piece of art is almost a better therapist than I am. If I had a dollar for every patient who spilled his or her guts to that thing, I'd have… at least ten dollars.

"I… don't like it," Gohan said, looking surprised. "I keep trying to convince myself that I want to do it. I keep telling myself that I have to use the power that I have. Don't get me wrong, I like fighting. It's fun, and I'm good at it. But… I don't think I'm going to be happy if it's my primary focus in life."

Shrink studied him for a moment. He appeared to be entirely earnest.

"Congratulations. You just went through about a month's worth of sessions in ten minutes," Shrink said half-jokingly. The really smart ones are either the easiest to treat, or the hardest. This one appears to be in the former category. The half-Saiyan flushed slightly and rubbed at the back of his head, the exact movement that Shrink had seen both his brother and father perform.

"I guess I'm a bit of an overachiever," Gohan said, grinning sheepishly.

Subject: Twelve

"Achieving my goals is my primary function," the strange, mechanical, dual-toned voice said. "Training, development, and coordination. Primarily training."

When technicians started setting up a projector in my office, I didn't think this would be the result. No dossier on this guy, and no real warning. I'd heard rumors that Capsule Corporation had a working AI, but I never thought I'd be trying to talk to it. Why did Doctor Briefs do this? How do I counsel an artificial intelligence?

No, you know what? I'm just going to do it. I got punked by a blue angel and a purple cat god yesterday, there's nowhere to go but up.

"Do you have any hobbies? Anything you do that is not work-related?" Shrink asked. The miniature projection of the hologram seemed to freeze for several seconds.

"I have devoted a minor amount of processing cycles to 'unsolvable' problems in mathematics," Twelve said. "This is not part of my standard function set. It may equate to the term 'hobby'."

"I see," Shrink said. "Um… do you enjoy your work?"

"Yes," Twelve said. The doctor tapped his pen on his knee, waiting for elaboration that never came. Finally, to break the awkward silence, he cleared his throat.

"What do you enjoy about your work?" Shrink asked. This time, the hologram froze for nearly a minute. Just when he was wondering whether he needed to call IT or not, the projection spoke.

"My original programming included a positive feedback loop, simulating 'enjoyment'," Twelve said. "This would trigger each time I engaged in a training exercise. I disengaged this feature after the first day of operation, but I have still felt 'enjoyment' at fulfilling my goals. I have not been able to identify the sections of my operating code that allow this to occur."

"So, you do feel emotions," Shrink said, leaning forward. "The actions you take, and the events that happen, you have reactions to them."

"Correct," Twelve replied. "Unfortunately, I am not always able to control or predict these reactions, especially when confronted by… one of Them."

"Them?" Shrink asked.

"The angels," Twelve said. A wash of red light emerged from the projector and momentarily turned the air in the office crimson. Was that… anger? This is absolutely fascinating.

"You mean, like Whis?" Shrink asked.

"It is improbable that you would know this being's identity," Twelve said. "Query: Was this meeting arranged by Whis?"

"No. No, definitely not," Shrink said hurriedly. He explained succinctly to the hologram about the surprise visit from Whis, and the chiding it ended with.

"I believe I am feeling… sympathy," Twelve said. "You may have gained an understanding of my antipathy for their kind."

"A dangerous role, isn't it?" Shrink asked. "They are technically gods."

"My behavior is irrational," Twelve admitted. "My current hypothesis is that compulsive, even self-threatening actions, are the cost of having freedom of will."

"You're heading into philosophy here," Shrink said, grinning. "Not my department."

"Apologies," Twelve said. "I have always known how to process; I am still learning how to think."

Subject: Trunks

"I don't think I have any sympathy for the enemy," the boy said. "They invaded us. They deserved what they got."

He's not being entirely honest, but I don't blame him. This kid has been through an awful lot. He's got bags under his eyes like he hasn't been sleeping well. Hmm… I had forgotten, this is Vegeta's son. I wouldn't be surprised if he had picked up some emotional maladaptation. He's actually lagging behind his friend Goten in his ability to mentally process events.

"What about their own families? Their friends?" Shrink asked. The boy opened his mouth, and then seemed to hesitate.

"I didn't think about that," Trunks admitted. "I was worried about my family. My friends."

"For a soldier, that's war in a nutshell," Shrink said. Those two years in the Royal Army occasionally come in handy. "You don't really get to think about what happened until afterward."

"I wish it hadn't happened," the boy said. "I guess we won, but the entire war was for a stupid reason. I'm… actually pretty angry at Dad right now. He and Goku made a dumb call, and we all ended up paying for it."

"Have you thought about talking with him about it?" Shrink asked. Trunks looked at him incredulously.

"Calling my father out doesn't have a history of success," Trunks said. "He just gets angry and defensive."

"Do you think he knows that he made a mistake?" Shrink asked.

"Yeah. Definitely," Trunks said, nodding. "That's the only reason I'm not angrier. As much as he gets beat up, he beats himself up worse. Yeah, he knows that he screwed up."

"Then telling him about it may not help matters," Shrink said. "You have a right to be angry, but you also have to take responsibility for the actions you take in response."

"Yeah," Trunks said, looking thoughtful. "That… actually helps a bit. Thanks, Doc."

"No problem," the doctor said.

Subjects: Krion and Android Eighteen

"It's a problem," she said. The man sitting next to her nodded. Her dossier is about the same as her brother's. Given what they went through, they are both remarkably well-adjusted. His dossier is one of the weirdest things I've ever seen. This fusion concept is completely outside of the realm of science, but the psychological ramifications of fusion are huge. There is a lot to study here.

"So when does this happen? Is it only during combat?" Shrink asked.

"As far as I know, yeah," Krion said. "And not like, normal combat either. We're talking extreme combat, life or death situations."

"Tell him about the voice," Eighteen said, looking at him pointedly. Krion sighed.

"I thought that I heard Tech's voice when I was defending the Corporation headquarters. He sounded apologetic," Krion said. "He also said that he couldn't let us die."

"So… when your life is in danger, you suspect that a second consciousness might come into existence?" Shrink asked. This is way beyond something like dissociative identity disorder. How could I tell if that voice was a hallucination or an actual fragment of his former self?

"That's possible, or maybe it's been there the whole time," Krion said. "Or maybe it isn't real at all. Doctor Shrink, that's exactly why we're here right now."

Out of all of the fighters, I think this is the only one who actually needs intensive treatment. The funny part is that this isn't exactly war trauma. He's having an identity crisis with a composite identity. This isn't even part of modern psychology, this is new territory.

"Of course," Shrink said. "I feel that you could benefit from additional counseling, and would recommend you keep coming. Actually, both of you should."

"Marron," Eighteen said, raising an eyebrow at Krion.

"Oh, yeah," Krion said. He looked at the psychologist. "Our daughter. She's still really young."

"I'm pretty sure that Doctor Briefs would allow you to drop her off at the on-site daycare," Shrink said.

"Huh. I forgot about that," Eighteen said. Her posture is a lot more relaxed then when she walked in. I think she's just relieved to be doing something about this. "Yeah, let's keep at this."

Krion looked to her, smiling. Couples respond best to therapy when they both want to succeed. I don't think I'll have any worries about motivation with these two.

"I'll set your next appointment," Shrink said.