At that, Robin sighed a little. The mood swings were giving him whiplash, especially considered how happy Quentin had seemed to let him take the lead, earlier in the evening.

"Fine," he said, putting up his hands. After all, it wasn't as if the boy had said anything the dozen other times he'd used the pet name. "You're not my pet. And I'm not convinced you still want to be here at all, so if you don't... you're also not my hostage."