"I know how to drive!" He snapped back, putting the other hand on the wheel. The knuckles on his left were a particularly stark shade of white. If it had been anyone but a chosen few, his tone could have been taken as angry. Between them, it was the light locker room ribbing. "Andretti's got nothing on me," Booth added as an afterthought, pressing down on the gas again.
He scowled at the road ahead. "Guess we're going to have to order a few baskets of wings for catch up then," he muttered as he hit the right turn signal, merged lanes, and turned sharply onto the next street like he knew where he was going. Though he did in theory. "She's my partner. I became a liason to the Jeffersonian," he explained, giving her the short version.
Another beat of silence followed, the space filled by the softly playing radio, a few honks from frustrated drivers nearby (not directed at him), and the general sounds of city life. "The supernatural is real here," he said finally. "I didn't believe it myself but vampires, demons, werewolves? All of it."