"I thought I could deal with hell, I served as a sniper in Iraq. But this.." Booth shook his head in distaste and stared hopelessly into an empty cabinet void of liquor. "Looks like we're shit out of luck. " He muttered, changing the subject. It was clear that the demons and vampires were all just a bit over his head. Drinking was something familiar. Something he used to do with Bones after a case. Something he could definitely use. Soda was not going to calm twitchy FBI nerves. "Mine either. "He smirked at the other man over his shoulder, as if Eliot couldn't tell the way he was handling it in shining glory and all. Raiding the cabinets for hard liquor and sulking at coming up empty.
"Sometimes they're worse." He added solemnly. Booth knew all about the worlds worst monsters when it came to humans. He had worlds of experience dealing in those.