AN: Alrighty guys!! Here is the first chapter of the PB&J prequel! I really hope you like it!

Thanks to Leon McFrenchington for beta'ing :)

You Give Me Something- James Morrison |I Could Get Used to This- The Veronicas

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Edward Anthony Masen Cullen: 22, firefighter. Edward is adopted by C&E. His siblings Emmett and Alice are also adopted. Jasper (Hale) and Rosalie (Hale-Cullen) are twins- not adopted by C&E.

Isabella Marie Swan Cullen: 20, just completed junior year at U of W.

-Chapter One: The Honeymoon's Over-

I could say it now.

Bella Cullen. Bella Cullen. Bella Cullen. She really was my Bella now. My love, my life, my wife. She was mine and I was hers--in sickness and in health, for better or worse, for richer or for poorer, as long as we both shall live.

I think we had the poorer part figured out.

My--our apartment was small, and it really wasn't much to look at. Between a college student and a fireman, we didn't have a lot of things. Bella had been living in a dorm up until two and a half weeks ago, when we got married, and I was never home long enough to really care about the lack of furnishings. We had the basics, but it was going to take more than a few pieces of furniture before the apartment became our home. I knew that Alice was already planning a shopping trip to make our little domicile seem more like a viable living space.

The apartment was located in the west end of Seattle, not fifteen minutes from the fire station where I worked, and only twenty minutes from UW. We lived on the second floor of a huge brick complex and had relatively nice neighbors. The back of our building faced the woods, and I was always a little paranoid of the things that might have lurked in there. Bella, however, was intrigued, and I knew that she would soon be dragging me out into the woods to explore. As if my lovely bride wasn't enough of a danger magnet already.

It was a little strange, seeing another toothbrush by my own in the bathroom, and having two coffee cups sit by the coffee maker instead of the usual one. I would sometimes freak out when I woke up in the morning and heard the shower running or the TV on. I would panic for a split second, reaching for the baseball bat, wondering why there was someone else in my apartment. Then I would blush red and remember that Bella, my wife, also lived here. I had never lived with another person before, so sharing space with someone was new to me. At home I had my own room, and at college I was the one lucky person on my floor that got to live in a single dorm. There were twice as many clothes strewn about the bedroom floor, and twice as many dirty dishes in the sink. I was what Bella had dubbed "a neat freak." She was more of a… free spirit. One look at the closet or the bathroom would tell you that. My side of the closet had my shirts hanging neatly in a row, organized by color and style. Shoes and pants were lined up in the same manner. It was a rare thing if Bella's clothes were even on a hanger. Her dresser, though it had more than enough room, was constantly overflowing with clothing. My wife wasn't a sloppy person; that was just the way she was. I was the one who had to learn to live with it. I had contemplating calling Alice to help Bella out, but I really wasn't (if ever) in the mood to have my sister yell at my wife and then have my wife yell at me for ratting her out. Alice would have an aneurysm if she saw how Bella took care of her clothing. Personal attire was sacred to Alice, and she and Bella frequently butted heads over the issue.

I personally hated when things were a mess, but I wouldn't trade it for anything. If marriage to the most beautiful woman in the world meant that I tripped over a stray shoe of hers or had to clean up the dishes from her latest cooking endeavor, then I loved being married.

I was ashamed to admit that I had been planning on going through life alone. Who would want a guy that constantly risked his life and didn't make a lot of money for it? I had believed that that the answer was "no one." But then I met Bella. Bella was kind, beautiful, endearingly clumsy, selfless, impossibly shy, and way out of my league. There was no way she would want to invest in a relationship with me, or so I thought. I had never been so happy to be proven wrong. I was astonished to find that the brown eyed angel who frequently starred in my dreams was as much in love with me as I was with her. Our relationship grew and blossomed, and six months after we had confessed our feelings for each other, I proposed. Bella accepted, but not without some persuasion. She wasn't afraid to spend the rest of her life with me, but the idea of marriage invariably scared her. Her own parents' marriage had gone up in smoke. Literally. Charlie and Renee had called it quits after Renee left her curling iron on while they went out, which started a fire. The house had burned to the ground, and Renee had left for Phoenix, Arizona, the next day, taking a very young and very troubled Bella with her.

I found the curling iron incident almost humorous, but I knew that Bella had deep emotional scars from the event. Bella loved her mother so much it was a little scary, but there was a part of her that was deeply attached to her father. Charlie had been heartbroken when his little girl was ripped away from him. He hid his pain well; going fishing on the weekend and joking with Billy Black every time he felt like crying. He never said it outright, but there was a part of him that still loved Renee too. Renee--sweet, oblivious Renee--had happily moved on, marrying a minor league baseball player, Phil, while Bella was in high school. Bella, wanting to give the newlyweds space, had chosen to live with her father until she finished school. Bella finished high school with flying colors and was immediately accepted to the University of Washington.

My first encounter with Bella had gone quite badly, and I was still smarting over it. I was tempted to not even entertain the idea of having a relationship with her at first, but the harder I tried to stay away from Bella, the harder I fell for her. I eventually moved past my fears and insecurities, and asked Bella out. She enthusiastically agreed, and like they say, 'the rest is history.' Our relationship was not without its bumps, bruises, and heartache, but love would not mean nearly enough without the pain we had shared.

I looked down at her, my sleeping wife cuddled next to me, her shiny brown hair splayed out behind her. Her head was on my stomach, letting me sense her warm breath on my torso. She was the epitome of beauty, and I felt my heart give a quick flutter as I saw my mother's ring on her hand sparkle in the moonlight. How did I ever sleep without my Bella by my side? The bed would suddenly seem so empty if she wasn't in it. It was strange. I felt a tad… whipped realizing at just how deeply attached I was to Bella. Did all men feel this way? It was like…. now that I had Bella, I could never be away from her for long. I couldn't think without visions of her invading my musings.

I had to stop myself more than once, when writing an email, or taking notes, from writing her new name, Bella Cullen, Bella Cullen, all over the page. The same thing happened to when my mind would wander while in the mandatory fire class meetings I attended--suddenly, the previously blank piece of paper that was supposed to hold my opinion on steel vs. copper pipes would be filled with drawings of Bella. I had taken to scribbling down her name, and mine, like some lovesick teenager, on any available surface of paper. Bella had given me a curious look last week when she pried the Chinese takeout menu out of the trash, and found her name in my handwriting all over it. Before I could snatch it out of her hands and burn it, she took my hand, chuckling at my flushed face, and pulled me over to the bookshelves in the living room. She stuffed the menu in the pocket of her faded jeans, before reaching up and taking a battered textbook off of one of the shelves. She began to flip through it. I stared at her stupidly, my mind going to infinite lengths as to how to get the precious menu back, when she suddenly shoved the open textbook into my chest, chewing on her bottom lip. I looked down, expecting to see geometry proofs or some of Shakespeare's quotes. Instead, I found my name scrawled all over the text in blue Sharpie marker, written in my love's unique handwriting, accompanied by hearts… and flowers? My Bella was more talented than she let on. There was EAMC & IMSC looped together with hearts, but my name was the most prominent fixture on the page. I couldn't even decipher what subject lay behind Bella's scribbling, it was so obscured. Bella looked up at me, her face blushing red this time. We both laughed in spite of ourselves. It was so ridiculous, but… I couldn't help but feel a little honored that I occupied Bella's thoughts as much as she did mine.

"See," she said, tapping the page, "I think of you too."

I would make sure she never got rid of that textbook. I also had a sneaking suspicion that she had laminated the takeout menu and hidden it in the deep depths of her side of the closet. I still had yet to find it.

I felt almost guilty for having enjoyed my honeymoon so much. It made going back to work that much harder. I was dreading the morning. Tomorrow I would have to go back to the station, the hectic, frenzied, electric environment that I had escaped for three weeks. For the first time, I didn't want to have to leave the confines of the apartment. I didn't want to leave Bella. Since it was the end of May, she didn't have school or classes to worry about. She would be starting a job soon, but for two weeks she would be here at the apartment, alone all day, while I was off fighting fires, investigating car accidents, and rescuing stupid cats who liked to climb trees. I knew she would be alright while I was gone, but I would miss her. A lot. I had been resolved to make the three weeks as pleasant as possible, but tomorrow, it was back to the real world. It was time to rip off the proverbial band-aid. And I was going to do it as slowly as possible. I was the little kid standing at the edge of a cold pool, painstakingly dawdling. Down one concrete step, inch by inch, getting used to the cold water, knowing that once one was fully submerged and acclimated, the discomfort would erase and pleasure would seep in. I hadn't even put a toe in my imaginary pool, but I knew I had to do it soon--first thing tomorrow morning, to be exact.

I was startled awake out of a pleasant dream by the beeping of my alarm. The glowing numbers on the face of the clock told me that it was five o'clock in the morning. The sun wasn't up yet, and it felt like I had just fallen asleep. I didn't want to get up and function. I didn't want to rip off the band-aid or inch into my pool. I wanted to stay in bed with Bella.

"Edward… turn it off…" she mumbled, burying her face in my chest. I blindly reached out and slapped the worn top of the alarm. The staccato beeping ceased immediately. I sighed and slowly started to move Bella off of me. She however, had other ideas. She threw her leg over one of mine, making a sort of human pretzel of herself, and fisted one of her small hands in my shirt.

"Don't go… it's too early," she grumbled, her voice thick with sleep. "Stay… and sleep… here."

If I had been awake enough, I would have laughed. "You know there is nothing more I'd love to do than stay here all day with you, but I can't, Love. I wish I could."

I reluctantly peeled myself away from Bella's warm clutches. Throwing the comforter off of my body, I shivered at the invading cold that permeated the room. I stumbled out of bed, tucked the covers back in around Bella and kissed her forehead.

"Don't leave without saying goodbye…" she said sleepily, burrowing into the warm space I had just vacated.

"I won't," I promised, searching the floor with my eyes for my pants. I pulled them on, and padded off to the kitchen to find something to eat. We had finally begun unpacking our wedding presents last night, and the kitchen was filled with boxes that held our new dishes and various appliances.

I turned on the overhead light, and was startled by the sudden brightness. I decided I could live without the lights on and immediately flipped the switch. Instantly, the kitchen was bathed in darkness and my eyes no longer stung. I had gotten spoiled the past three weeks by not having to wake up before nine in the morning.

I dug around in one of the open boxes for a bowl, and another for a spoon. I set them on the counter and got a carton of milk out of the refrigerator. I found a box of cereal in the pantry, and hoped that it hadn't turned stale. I poured myself a bowl of the cardboard tasting flakes and walked into the living room. Quietly I turned on the television, and sat down on the sofa. I ate my breakfast, crunching the cereal as silently as possible, while trying to comprehend what I was watching. I soon clicked off the glowing box, and ate in the dark.

The harsh light was too bright for my eyes and the sounds emanating from the TV were too much for my tired brain to understand. I scrubbed my eyes with the back of my hand, groaning when I felt the rough stubble on my jaw line. I was a mess and so tired. I stifled a yawn as I went and put my bowl and spoon in the dishwasher. I started the coffee maker, and rested my back against the counter. I usually did this every morning, but now, standing in the kitchen in the dark, I felt so lonely.

I hadn't minded my quiet mornings before Bella came along, but the past three weeks we had done everything together. We would get up whenever we wanted, she would make toast and I would cook whatever she had wanted. We would sit at the sturdy little kitchen table and talk, occasionally stealing a kiss or food off each other's plate. The kitchen would be filled with the sound of her giggles. I already missed her cheerful voice and laugh. I wrapped my arms around my torso, willing my body to stay in place and not race down the hall and jump back into bed. I missed Bella already. I sighed and shook my head. I was pathetic and yet, proud of it. I left my mental band aid on, thinking that maybe just ripping it off really fast before I had to leave would be better.

As I waited for the coffee to brew, I thought back to the day that had changed my life so dramatically.

--

May 1st, 2009

"Emmett, do you have Bella's ring?" I asked him, distractedly fastening my white dress shirt, checking my reflection in the large mirror to make sure I had put the buttons in the right holes. He rolled his eyes. We were standing in my old bedroom, putting on our tuxedos. Carlisle had gone downstairs to get something, and Emmett and Rosalie's ten month old son, Royce, was napping peacefully on the bed as we got ready. Jasper and Emmett stood on either side of me, also fastening buttons and ties.

"For the third time, Edward, yes. Relax, man. Bella's not gonna go anywhere. She's waiting for you, bro. But you really gotta calm down. I wasn't this tense at my wedding."

"You were worse," Jasper muttered under his breath, tying his tie.

"I was not!"

Jasper cocked an eyebrow at him in the mirror. "I don't see Edward having an all out panic attack in the bathroom, Emmett."

"Day's not over yet, Jazz. And I was not having a panic attack. Men like Emmett Cullen do not have panic attacks," he huffed, smoothing out his hair.

"Then what would you call that little display in the bathroom, hmm?"

"Creative expression. Listen Jazz, as much as I'm enjoying this little jaunt down memory lane, it's Edward's day to shine and express himself creatively. So get off me and harass him. Good grief, you and Alice are perfect for each other, always bugging the-"

"Language," Jasper sang at him, indicating the sleeping baby on the bed.

"Shut up, Jazz! He's asleep and Rosalie is nowhere in sight."

"I'm what?" my sister in law said from the doorway. Rosalie glared at Emmett, hands on her hips. Emmett had jumped at the sound of her voice, and was trying to compose himself. Ever since Emmett and Rosalie had had children, Emmett's vocabulary had been cleaned up considerably by Rosalie. He still slipped every so often, especially if he was egged on by Jasper, and it irritated him to no end. Emmett, being an unstoppable optimist, found his loopholes and was liberated by his new favorite expression-- "Aw, Hale"--except he said it with a southern accent so it sounded more like hell. It infuriated Jasper, and Emmett took pride in that.

"I said, you look outta sight, baby," he cooed, his voice suddenly sounding like honey. He was shooting daggers at Jasper out of the corners of his eyes, daring his brother in law to object.

"It sounded a little differently from over here, babe," she said suspiciously, walking over to the bed. She picked Royce up and cradled him in her arms.

"You guys have twenty minutes until you need to be downstairs. Alice says to make sure your hair looks decent, especially you, Edward. Try to get it to stick in one direction, okay?" she said, stabbing a finger in my direction.

I was always the one who got picked on for how my hair looked. I honestly did not style it so it looked like I had just walked through a hurricane. It wasn't that I actually liked my hair styled that way. Bella, however, was endeared to the condition of my bronze locks, and was adamant that I not put any styling products in them in an attempt to tame them. She said it made me look like a half-drowned rat. While I did not agree with her choice of words, I did admit that it wasn't the most attractive hairstyle for me when all of my hair was plastered down against my head. But what else was I supposed to do? My bronze tendrils looked awful most of the time. Thus, I was subjected to little verbal attacks on the condition of my hair.

Exactly twenty minutes later, I stood in the living room of the home I had grown up in, clammy hands clasped together. The man I had grown to call father stood at my left side, and the minister, Reverend Weber, was on my other side, Bible in hand. Rosalie was seated at the piano, ready to play the entrance music. We all had our eyes focused on the entryway into the living room. Suddenly, Rosalie lifted her hands and placed her fingers on the ivory keys. The first strains of an unnamed piano melody filled the room, and a little person stepped through the entryway. Emmalie Cullen, Rosalie and Emmett's five year old daughter, slowly walked down the aisle, her blonde curls flowing down her back with flowers pinned in, clutching her little basket of rose petals. She timidly threw them onto the white carpet, before slipping into the first row of chairs next to Esme. As darling as Emmalie's entrance had been, I only had eyes for one particular person who was supposed to enter after her only bridesmaid.

My sister, Alice, soon daintily tripped in, her silver dress flowing like silk behind her. I shifted my weight from one foot to the other, trying not to fidget, when I saw her.

Bella slowly walked in, clutching tightly to her father's arm. Her ivory dress perfectly complimented her fair skin, making her look like an angel. My angel. Her face was slightly obscured by her veil, but I could see that her eyes were alight with joy. All too soon, she stepped up to the platform where I was standing, and I offered her my hand. She let go of Charlie, and gave his hand a reassuring squeeze. She then placed one of her small white hands in mine, and our fingers interlaced as she stood next to me. We both faced Reverend Weber, as he began to speak. I didn't remember much of what he said. All I could see was Bella, her mahogany hair and wide brown eyes full of emotion. All I could hear was her sweet voice, promising to be mine forever. All I could breathe in was her sweet scent, her trademark strawberry and freesia fragrance mixed in with magnolia and roses. Everything around me was filled with Bella. I was so enraptured with her that I nearly forgot to say "I do." And when the minister pronounced us husband and wife, I thought my heart would explode from happiness. Bella threw her gloved arms around my neck, and we shared the kiss of a lifetime, ignoring the whistles and hoots that came from the less self controlled people in the audience.

The rest of our evening went by in a blur. We playfully shoved portions of cake in each other's faces, ignoring the cameras that never ceased to flash around us. Bella threw her bouquet into my sister's hands, leaving her speechless and making Jasper smug. I knew he was planning to propose, but he wanted to wait a little while, so he wouldn't take away from mine and Bella's wedding. I was feeling a little devious, so I took Bella's garter and flung it right at Mike Newton. He was a little stunned, to say the least. I saw Jessica Stanley eye him hopefully and he backed away from her gaze in horror. He didn't even stay to have some cake. What a shame, I had thought sarcastically. I was glad he left of his own accord, though. The way he kept eyeing my wife made me want to throw him out and give him a few bruises to remember me by. Bella, however, kept a firm grip on my hand, which made it impossible to leave her side and possibly track Mike down. It wasn't a big deal--I knew where he lived, and I had no desire to leave my Bella's side at the present moment. All too soon, Bella and I changed clothes, and we ran down the steps of my parents' home, trying to dodge the handfuls of rice that were being thrown at our backs. Who knew Emmett had such great aim? My neck was stinging from the bits of rice that had hit the sensitive spot. Bella and I climbed in my Volvo, nearly dizzy from giddiness, and sped off into the night. That night was, simply put, the best night of my life. I knew that Bella had, in a sense, and in a good way, ruined me for all other women. She was my first love, and I prayed that she would remain my only love. Bella and I honeymooned on the beach, both trying and failing miserably to get tans. We lounged, laughed, and loved, until all we could do was lay in the warmth of the sun.

--

I desperately wished I could be back on that beach as I poured myself a cup of steaming coffee. I ignored the cream and sugar that now sat cheerily by the coffee maker. Those were Bella's. She was the one with the sweet tooth, not me. I downed the coffee quickly, almost enjoying the scorching burn that raced down my throat. I rinsed out my empty mug and placed it in the dishwasher. I walked back to the bedroom, smiling when I saw that Bella's form was wrapped around my pillow. I got out my uniform, and was about to get out the iron too, when I saw that Bella had pinned a post-it note to my… freshly starched… white shirt. It had a pencil sketched heart on it, along with a simple B. Bella had already ironed my clothes for me so I wouldn't have to. I smiled, my heart swelling with thankfulness. No one had ever taken such good care of me before. I hung the clothes on the closet door, and made my way in the dark to the bathroom on the other side of the room. I took care not to slam the door as I turned on the lights. I took a quick shower and shaved, feeling instantly better now that I was cleaned up. I made a considerable effort to tame my hair, because I didn't want to have to get it cut. I knew Bella liked it this length, but longer hair presented a greater risk of getting caught on fire. I winced at the mental image, and very nearly pulled out the hair gel before I remembered that Bella had thrown it out. I ran a comb through my tangled locks, and managed to appear halfway decent before I stepped out of the bathroom. I threw on my clothes, tucking Bella's little note inside my pocket. I dawdled, lingering in front of the mirror, turning this way and that, making sure I didn't leave a button undone. I was stalling. I blew out a breath, and went over to the bed where Bella was curled up on my side of the bed.

Now came the hard part. I bent over and drew back the covers so I could see her face, brushing the hair away that had fallen into her eyes. I kissed her gently.

"I love you, my Bella. I'll see you soon," I breathed, nuzzling my nose into her hair. She stirred slightly, and a sleepy smile made its way onto her face. I made sure the blankets were around her before quietly walking out of the bedroom. I went into the kitchen and pulled a water bottle out of the pantry. I grabbed the duffel bag I had stashed by the front door and stepped outside. I locked the door behind me and walked down the flight of steps to where my Volvo was waiting, right next to Bella's rusted red truck. I scowled at it, before unlocking my car and sliding in. I detested Bella's truck. It was so unsafe and so slow. The truck was quite old, so I was hoping that it soon would be meeting its demise in the near future. There was no way the mother of my future children (when we had them, eventually) was riding in that death trap.

I started down the street, humming aimlessly to myself as I drove to the station. I pulled up in front of the red brick building, taking a deep breath before stepping out of the car and grabbing my bag. It was almost customary treatment for the newly wedded members of our firehouse to undergo snide questioning and suggestive remarks upon their return from their honeymoons from our fellow coworkers. I was fairly certain that I would be the center of their joking revelry today. It wasn't a problem--I was, however, glad that Bella would not be around to hear or witness what might go on. The guys I worked with could get a little crude sometimes.

I stepped inside, my senses filled with the smell of cleaning products and rubber. I went upstairs, and dumped my things in the wood paneled dormitory I shared with five other guys. The floors were sturdy linoleum, with glass windows lining the narrow walls. As plain as the décor was, and uninviting the atmosphere, I couldn't imagine being in any other fire station, as corny as it sounded. This place was literally my second home.

"Yo! Cullen's back!"

The booming voice of Tyler Crowley reverberated throughout the room. I felt a heavy hand clap on my shoulder, and found myself face to face with some of my comrades. Tyler, Eric, Casey, and a few of the other guys instantly surrounded me, assaulting me with their queries and commentary.

"How you been, man?"

"Never thought I'd ask you this, but how's the missus?"

"Dude, we've got a newbie, and boy, is he a doozy. Kid doesn't know a thing."

"Didja have a good time on the beach? Bring me back anything?"

"You missed an epic fire, bro. Old man Pattinson's house blew up and so did his chicken coop. Old boy decided to have a bonfire right over a leaky gas pipe. We were covered in feathers. It was nasty."

I rolled my eyes at them. Home sweet home, indeed.

AN: So, not too much is happening…yet. I am so excited for this story and I have it all planned out- I'll try to alternate between this story and PB&J, but this one is going to take first priority. I am not abandoning PB&J, never fear!!

Please review so I know- hit or miss? I'm kinda nervous about posting this. I hope it lives up to your expectations.