"It is a really big rat," Booth repeated, not quite sure if he was assuring her or assuring himself. The creature, and yeah it did look like some freak of nature that had escaped captivity, was easily as big as his foot, black as night, and staring at them with beady little eyes.
"We'll just grab our stuff and..." Something in Booth's brain clicked and he slowly looked over at her, at a loss for words. Vampires had been mentioned the night before when his mind had been exhausted, under intense pressure, and helped along by vodka, but that statement had knocked him for a loop. "As in those tiny little yapping dogs as blood suckers?" he managed finally, his tone dry.
"No, I didn't know what you were going to do. All I knew was there was a gun coming into play and instinct took over." Still watching the rat, he grabbed his coat off the bed and pulled it on, the gun going into the shoulder holster, and gathered his things off the nightstand. "Let's go before Mickey decides he wants breakfast."