Blake just watched Jack, not commenting, not drinking, and not withdrawing his hand from his thigh. He was trying to decide if Jack was being intentionally obtuse or if he really didn't realize how condescending he was coming across. More than likely, Blake thought, the banshee had been treating people this way for so long that he was no longer conscious of how he looked down at others.
Blake had already told Jack previously that he would handle the transportation side of it. Blake was a world traveler. There were some days he was in more than a dozen countries and still made it back to his cottage in Iceland before dinner time. Blake knew some of the most powerful magic users in the modern age. He knew the cost magic took out of someone. He knew, from personal experience, not from a book or an outside observance, the complexities of magical teleportation.
And still, still Jack had condescended to him like he would to one of his students. If they were equals, if Jack was capable of viewing anyone as his equal, he wouldn't have felt the need to explain how dangerous and difficult teleportation was. It was like explaining to a chef that fire burns. He couldn't just let go and trust that Blake might possibly know what he was talking about. Like an equal would.
Consequently, Blake's guards were up and he was not in the mood to entertain Jack's attempt at turning this into a joke. He wasn't going to let himself get derailed, which was no doubt the tactic Jack was using, to get Blake to forget he'd been so insistent on China and on teleporting there with the magic of a powerful wizard. The same wizard who had already teleported not only the Anton group here in one jaunt, but had brought the small army with Sorin when they'd gone back to free the rest of them imprisoned at Anton castle. Madness? No. Skill.
One step forward, ten steps backwards. Fine. Two could play at that game. Blake slowly and deliberately brought his glass to his lips and drained it. "Do you really want to know?"