Titanium (Ti)
Atomic Number: 22
Atomic Weight: 47.867 amu
Solid at room temperature; strong metal resistant to sea water, chlorine, and aqua regia; easily oxidized; relatively abundant in the atmosphere
Warnings: Fire hazard, potentially explosive
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"Just give me a gun."
"You can't see out of your eye. I'm not giving you a gun."
"My instincts are perfectly fine, so let me have a gun."
"Oh, really?" Malka grabs Bucky's hand before it can make contact with her cheek. She feels his fingers slip between hers and grasp her hand as he grins. "Proves nothing."
"Buck," Steve calls out from his seat as he lands the plane. "Might want to just give her the gun so she'll stop asking. If you don't, I have a feeling she'll just take one of yours."
She smiles at Bucky as he reluctantly hands her a gun. "If you shoot me, I'm gonna get you back."
"Get me back how?" She winces when she tries to arch her left brow, a hand coming to rest against the gauze holding her skin together and shielding her eye. "We are going to forget about that."
"No." When she meets his gaze, his anger confuses her. "No, I'm never gonna forget about that."
It is only when Steve clears his throat that Malka takes a large step away, running a hand over her neck to rest on her necklace as she eyes the snowy terrain in front of them. "You two seem close," he says as he walks up to them, his hands on his belt. "Would've appreciated knowing that."
"There are still things you don't know," Malka replies. "About our past."
Steve nods. "You'll tell me when you're ready."
"I promise."
He cracks a smile as he meets Bucky's gaze. "You remember that time we had to ride back from Rockaway Beach in the back of that freezer truck?"
"Was that the time we used our train money to buy hot dogs?" Bucky asks.
"You blew three bucks trying to win that stuffed bear for a redhead."
Malka snorts. "What was her name?"
"Why do you want to know?" Bucky smirks. "Jealous?"
"No, just wondering how your memory's working. Scientific curiosity."
"Delores," Steve says with a chuckle. "You called her Dot."
"She's gotta be a hundred years old right now," Bucky sighs.
"I think this may shock you, but," Malka nudges his side, "so are we." As she walks off of the plane, she can feel his gaze on her back as snow whips at her exposed skin.
With her left side blinded, Malka holds herself differently. Bucky comes up on her left, and she trusts him with it, but she guards her side as well, sidestepping with her right foot first.
They approach the old HYDRA base, its doors ajar. "He can't have been here more than a few hours," Steve says.
