There was something about the way she moved that made Spencer think she was other-worldly. There was fluidity about it, something that he only saw in movies. But the more he studied Marrowood, and the people in the town, the more he believed and understood that the residents were truly from other realities. The worst thing in his world were the human monsters, some so scary that it almost felt that they weren't real. In the end, though, they were all humans. Humans that could be caught, and brought to justice for their crimes.
This place was not like that, and he had to constantly remind himself that he stepped into a fantasy-like world. A part of him still believed that he was somehow caught in a coma, and this was a dream that his mind made up, something to explain the situation. Even that explanation was starting to wane.
"That all sounds really fascinating," he said with a grin. "I've been to Santa Monica a few times," he admitted to her. "I probably passed by one of your clubs or art galleries." Spencer chuckled though, and shook his head. "Or not... I keep, I keep forgetting that you might not even be from my reality." He shook his head, and tried not to stare at the way she rocked back and forth on her bottom. It just wasn't polite to do that.
"Well, not really like a therapist," he said to her. "But you do need to learn about human behavior, and the psychology of criminals. There is learning, but I always found it to be really interesting. Sometimes it feels like I'm watching a show with the way we go through a case, and nitpick at it. It's really fascinating, and I really loved my job." Her question about the worst he'd ever seen made him quiet though. Spencer didn't like to quantify the cases, but if he thought about it there were some that were definitely harder to handle than others. He laughed a bit awkwardly. "Um, well," he trailed off, biting down on his lower lip. "Do I have to pick just one?"