"My lock picking skills are remarkable. Help wasn't needed," the Quartermaster snipped- Looking just a touch sulky about it. He didn't take well to being underestimated- Though that need to be respected could often be his undoing.

Huffing out a little put upon sigh, Q rolled his eyes and shrugged one shoulder.

"What would you like?" he asked bluntly, not objecting to making a deal, but clearly getting impatient. "What could you possibly want from me that I wouldn't do for you anyway, Rob?" he pointed out, gaze flickering to Felix with just a hint of curiosity. 'My sort' was an interesting way of phrasing that. It made him wonder if he meant all wizards, or simply a select group. ...He'd have to look into that later.