"I've been snapped at worse," Eliot replied dryly, shrugging. He twisted the cap off the bottle and took a long drink. An eyebrow arched. "Nothing I would take offense to. This place hasn't endeared itself to me either." No bank account, no one he knew, tortured by a demon. The moment he had the choice of getting out of here, he was taking it. "Second time I've ended up here. Join the club." This time he did smile faintly, although it wasn't humor.
"I heard there's hard liquor around here somewhere." Unless Winchester and Lane had finished it off during their drinking binge and no one had replaced it. From the disappointment, he assumed that Booth had been looking for something a little stronger than what he'd chosen. "Years of training," he replied, smiling slightly. He was frustrated that he wasn't there to backup the team but he knew nothing about the supernatural crap that ran the place.