"Bit out of line, yes," he agrees easily enough but with a casual smile. It's all forgiven. "Especially when you knew what I was doing. Pretty sure you don't want to put 'sneaky weapons dealer' on a resume."

Malcolm gives a little sigh, setting the schematics aside and patting York on the knee. "Look, I don't care that you called me a navy brat, because I am one through and through. It was the whole phrase. It hit close to home. I was going to be a naval officer, and, well, what kind of officer can't swim, either? It just...brought up some memories of things people have said to me. And things I thought of about myself. That's why it stuck, and that's one of the items that got me so...emotionally bent out of shape. Obviously the, ah, panic attack," might as well use the real name for it, with a bashful look down, "didn't help matters."