*EPOV*

"So you've never been to San Francisco, either?" Bella asked cheerfully as she looked out the window of my Volvo as we drove north up the Great Highway.

It wasn't so much of a highway as a boulevard that cut right across Ocean Beach with dull beige sand spilling over onto the southbound lanes from the adjacent dunes.

It was a gloomy day. A thick blanket of fog hung over the city and gusty gales of wind blew in from the Pacific. Only the most dedicated joggers braved the weather on the raised walking path that ran parallel to the road.

I swerved out of the way of a line of cars forming at the entrance of the San Francisco Zoo. Somewhere close by, the strange whooping calls of a pair of gibbons could be heard over the ocean waves washing over the sand.

The even, rhythmic sounds of the stormy gray water advancing and receding, advancing and receding reminded me of breathing. The ocean was sleeping, I mused as Bella's question roused me from my abstraction.

"I only passed through it once when I was tracking Victoria. I certainly didn't spend any time taking in the sights," I looked over at her and smiled, squeezing her small hand that rested comfortably in mine.

I'd overheard from the mind of a local in a neighboring car that the traffic lights were timed such that if you maintained speed at 37 miles per hour, you wouldn't hit any red lights.

I let the needle of my speedometer drift down to the glacial pace and watched the traffic light up ahead go green. I smiled, mentally thanking the motorist for the tip.

"That's nice. That we'll get to explore it together for the first time," Bella sighed happily.

She opened her mind to me then and I watched her daydream about finding all of our favorite new spots together. Old dusty bookstores. The newest incarnation of our meadow. Strolls on the beach-something that would actually be possible for us here, Bella thought optimistically as she eyed the thick gray clouds overhead.

I swung a right onto Lincoln Way and soon found the long, towering row of eucalyptus trees that marked the southern border of Golden Gate Park.

This park consisted of 1,000 acres of public land, lakes, and gardens that separated the Richmond District from the Sunset District.

Much like Central Park in New York City, it was the shape of a perfect rectangle right in the middle of a concrete jungle. Though, this park was over 20% larger than its more famous NYC counterpart.

I parked the car near Spreckels Lake without any real destination in mind. We'd come here merely to enjoy the day, explore our new city, and give Bella a little more exposure to humans in a place that would be easy to disappear without exposing ourselves if necessary.

Though speaking of exposing ourselves, I rather hoped we could find a private enough spot where I could steal a few kisses.

As we strolled by the boathouse, we were assailed by a westerly breeze.

"What is that?" Bella asked, sniffing the air. Unconsciously, she began following her nose toward the musky scent.

"Careful now, Bella," I warned in a tone that reminded her that following her nose down the street like a bloodhound wasn't normal human behavior.

And much worse than that, it would be catastrophic if she began to hunt in such a public place.

Bella slowed her pace and nodded at once. I saw her swallow at the venom that undoubtedly pooled in her mouth. She clenched and unclenched her hands a few times as she did whenever she was regaining control of herself.

"Right. Human," she murmured, more to herself than me. "I'm not thirsty anyway," she swallowed again. "Not really. Just curious. I've never smelled that scent before."

I knew what it was, having come across the scent long ago as a nomad passing through Montana, but I didn't see any reason to spoil the mystery for her.

"Let's go see, shall we?" I extended the crook of my arm for her to take. She smiled and wordlessly linked her arm through mine.

We walked at a leisurely human pace down a less traveled dirt path that separated a dog park from a larger fenced pasture. Bella's eyes scanned over the area and then widened when she saw the source of the scent.

On the other side of the football-field-sized pasture, a herd of eight full-grown bison stood impatiently at a locked gate. In the process of shedding their winter coats, large clumps of hair hung in ragged tatters along the animals' flanks. But even in their bedraggled states, they were impressive, majestic beasts.

In no particular hurry, we stood there and watched a while.

On the other side of a gate separating her from the herd was a ponytailed woman in green coveralls. The patch on her left shoulder identified her as an employee of the San Francisco Zoo. A large set of keys swung from her belt loop, and a walkie-talking was clipped to her back pocket.

Even from this distance, we could easily hear the bubbly sounds of pop music that wafted out of her pocket. She danced and sang along as she raked the smaller paddock area clean of dung that looked like cow patties.

When she was done cleaning, she stuffed a large vertical feeder full of grass hay then produced several large bowls with some kind of kibble-like pellets.

Satisfied with her work, she then opened a gate, giving the bison access to the paddock. She warmly greeted all of the animals by name, all females with B-names. Betsy. Bailey. Buttercup. Bellatrix, Bambi…

Her back ached and her hands were rough with callouses, but she loved her job, loved her animals, and she was good at it, too.

The zookeeper then exited a secondary gate and left in a white pickup truck headed back for the zoo, but not before triple-checking all the padlocks on the gates.

Bella snorted. I raised my eyebrows at her in curiosity.

"I was just thinking of how much you hated it when I worked with Mike at Newton's Olympic Outfitters. I'm just imagining how nuts you would have gone if my job was to come out here all alone and feed a hangry herd of buffalo," she giggled.

"Please," I rolled my eyes. "With your propensity for danger, you'd be the one feeding the tigers."

It was easier to joke about such things now that she wasn't so breakable. Though I still shuddered to think about her as a small, fragile human being anywhere near a bunch of unpredictable horned animals that were at least ten times her mass. Jacob Black and his canine friends had been bad enough.

She turned toward me and inclined her face for a kiss which I happily obliged.

"Nah," Bella offhandedly waved a hand through the air. "I'd much prefer to feed the lions," she purred.

I growled. "Don't I know it," I replied with an accusing edge to my voice and kissed her once more softly on the lips.

I eventually pulled away and sighed. "You're the reason we're being exiled to the cottage, you know," I teased. "How can I be expected to control myself around somebody as devastatingly tempting as you? I can't even look at a stinking herd of bison without wanting to ravish you!" I chuckled despite myself.

Bella ignored that. "Do they taste as bad as they smell?" she wondered aloud.

"Worse," I wrinkled my nose, then smiled.

We had gotten into town the day before, just as Alice predicted, right in time for our vehicles to arrive.

Out of convenience, we had them shipped over from New Hampshire this time rather than sending one of us across the country just to drive them back.

My piano, as well as the entirety of Alice's wardrobe, and the few other possessions we cared enough about to ship from one home to the next (but hadn't bothered to bring to Alaska) would be arriving the following day.

We didn't live in San Francisco, as it was impossible to have the kind of space and privacy we required to remain inconspicuous

La Honda, population 928, was located in the Santa Cruz Mountains between Silicon Valley and the Pacific coast. It was a twenty-five-minute drive to the University (fifty for mere mortals).

And for privacy and hunting options, it was conveniently located in between Portola Redwoods State Park in the north and La Honda Creek Open Space Preserve in the south. In other words, we were out in the sticks.

Esme had really outdone herself this time. The 23-acre estate boasted a three-story main residence built right into the hillside. Large west-facing windows and wrap-around decks made for breathtaking views of the sunset over the neighboring mountains and nature preserves.

A short distance off the main house was a caretaker's cottage. When Esme offered it to Bella and me, Bella had balked.

"We had the guest house in New Hampshire. Shouldn't it be someone else's turn to have their own place?" had been Bella's reply, her anxious voice an octave higher than normal.

Averse as she was to receive any more of what she called 'special treatment,' Bella had all but offered to room in the stables.

Not that I would have allowed that for many more important and obvious reasons, but the stables were being converted into a multi-car garage, as I didn't want my Vanquish out in the elements any longer than necessary.

"Bella, we appreciate that you're trying so hard to be a team player and not be fussed over and all that. It's sweet," Alice began in her silvery voice. "But the six of us are used to living in close proximity. It doesn't bother us. And…"

"And?" Bella had asked, picking up on the reticent tone of Alice's voice.

"And they like it better with us in our own place because I'm-" I started to finish her thought only to be cut off by Rosalie.

"A miserable, self-righteous, over-anxious dweeb," Rosalie had finished.

"That's not what I was going to say," Alice glared at Rose. "It's just that Jasper has an easier time not being...overcome by you two when there's a bit of distance. And I can't live down there because, well, have you seen the closet space?" Alice's face was one of horror.

"So nobody minds if we take the cottage, then?" Bella had asked, glancing at Rosalie.

"Not in the slightest, dear," Esme reassured. "Especially if we're keeping up the breakfast routine," she beamed.

Bella regarded my mother with a sweet smile and mouthed the word 'always.'

"Shall we go check out our new digs?" I asked, not bothering to contain my excitement.

*BPOV*

It was hard not to feel optimistic about a new beginning in a new town. Unlike the two prior moves with my family, this time I was not a useless human.

I could unload the shipping containers. I could haul furniture and appliances, which was a very good thing because Esme had set out to furnish the home with new props in record time.

"I don't feel comfortable with this," Jasper complained, arms folded across his chest when I insisted on carrying a refrigerator off of a rented box truck.

While Alice, Rosalie, Esme, and I were more than capable of carrying much heavier burdens, the Cullen men were, shall we say, old-fashioned.

"Get with the times, Jazz. It's 2007. Women can even vote and own property now," I teased, sticking out my tongue at him.

"I voted against that," he drawled with a smirk.

I huffed indignantly and marched off the truck holding the massive refrigerator box over my head.

Edward snickered a few feet away as he unloaded the other truck.

"What are you doing?" I asked as he started toward the main house with his piano balanced on one palm like a waiter would carry a tray of drinks.

Edward paused and turned his head in my direction, his brow was furrowed in confusion. "The cottage isn't big enough for your library and my piano…" he explained.

I blinked at him. "That's sweet but stupid. Take the piano to our place and I'll put the books in the main house. Books are portable, ya know. I can easily bring one back to read at the cottage. It's not like you can say the same thing about your piano," I frowned.

He glanced at the cumbersome instrument balanced easily on his palm and then back to me as if to contradict my logic.

"You know what I mean," I rolled my eyes.

"Yes, ma'am," he grinned and about-faced toward the cottage.

It wasn't until the very last book was unpacked and everyone had assured me (with no small amount of exasperation) that there was nothing left for me to help with that I climbed into Edward's car and let him take me for a drive to what the locals simply referred to as "The City."

Unlike a typical tourist, we didn't tire from the traffic or the steep hills. And thanks to Edward's abilities, we never had difficulty parking (which the humans seemed to complain about quite a lot.)

To a couple of vampires with a serious case of cabin fever (or rather, island fever) the dreary foggy weather was a welcome sight. As welcome as a sunny day would've been to me as a human…well, before I met Edward, anyway.

As a human with a vampire boyfriend, I'd sort of learned to regard the sun as a personal enemy, one that kept Edward away from me for days at a time.

Now, at least, when he needed to keep himself hidden from the sun, so would I. We'd have to hide together. It was far more tolerable than impatiently waiting for the clouds to return for Edward and the rest of the Cullens to come back to school.

Back then and even now, especially now, Edward always felt so needlessly guilty about his presence in my life keeping me away from the sun.

He still didn't understand. What good was the sun when it kept the other half of my soul away?

Edward was the one fixed point I now revolved around. He was all the light and warmth I needed. And even better than the sun, I felt the warmth of his love twenty-four hours a day.

"So what are we going to major in this time around?" I asked casually as we pulled away from the curb after having visited the DeYoung museum.

It had been a short visit. I could only imagine how we must have looked to anyone who might've noticed us as we drifted from painting to painting.

We'd stand there together observing some piece of art. I wouldn't be breathing, but trying hard to look like I was.

I would then silently share my thoughts about whatever we were looking at. And then he'd nod and quietly respond as if I'd spoken aloud.

"We?" Edward asked, pulling the Volvo onto a main road.

"Well, I assume I won't be allowed to attend classes by myself, right? So we'll have to enroll in the same classes?"

"Er, right, but only as a precaution because you're so young. If you'd prefer to not take classes with me, I'm sure Alice would—" Edward started to offer.

"Don't be ridiculous. Of course, I want to be with you! I only didn't want to take them with you at Dartmouth because I was worried you'd be a distraction. But now that I'm a vampire, I'll need all the distractions I can get to keep safely away from the humans," I laughed once.

He laughed at that. "You're going to do fine," he said reassuringly. "And we can major in anything you want. I've done the undergrad thing a few times now," he winked.

I thought it would be like that, but I asked anyway because it would have been rude and presumptuous of me to assume as much.

*EPOV*

Bella looked at me speculatively. I wondered what she was thinking. I figured she'd want to continue down the language arts path as she had at Dartmouth.

Honestly, it didn't matter what subject she chose because we'd be together, and she was infinitely more interesting to me than any college professor could ever hope to be.

It shouldn't have surprised me when she took me completely by surprise.

"Would it be painfully boring for you to take a beginner's music class?" Bella asked a little timidly.

Shocked, I turned to look at her. My eyebrows were somewhere outside, hovering above the moonroof of my car. "Music?" I asked dumbly.

She scrambled to explain. "I was thinking about what you said. About doing something impractical, just for my own enjoyment...And I've kind of always wanted to learn how to play guitar.

"I used to play around on an old acoustic, hand me down Ibanez when I was younger after Renee gave up on learning to play. I never had lessons or anything, but always wanted to learn.

"And you've taught yourself how to do so many things…," Bella nervously started to ramble, then quietly added, "I thought, maybe someday, when I'm good enough…we could play together," she shyly suggested, peeking at my reaction through her long lashes.

I looked at her, stunned.

My wife already added music, poetry, color, and joy to my life, and she wanted to give me this, too. She wanted to share my second greatest passion. I was so touched I could hardly speak.

Bella misinterpreted my silence as my having misgivings.

"But if I that's a dumb idea, I can always—" she anxiously started to backpedal but I cut her off before she could take it back.

"I love that idea, Bella. That doesn't even remotely cover it. Nothing would make me happier than to make beautiful music with you instead of about you," I said honestly.

Bella beamed. It was a mirror image of my own expression.

She swallowed then, and it reminded me to ask her, "How's your thirst? You were around a lot of people today." If I was feeling parched, it had to be bothering her.

"Not great," she swallowed again. "I'd even settle for one or two of those bison right about now."

"I'll do you one better," I turned the car around and got on the 101. Just north of the city, on the other side of the Golden Gate Bridge were the Marin Headlands, a National Park that happened to have an overpopulation of mountain lions.

As we drove across the iconic rusty-red bridge, the car was suddenly filled with the sound of Bella's sultry alto voice singing something vaguely familiar but that I hadn't heard in a very long time.

"Whatever happened to predictability? The milkman, the paperboy, evening' TV…"

She was thinking of a family in a red convertible driving across the Golden Gate Bridge. Was that …John Stamos?

And then it clicked that she was singing the theme song to the popular nineties sitcom, "Full House". It was a program that was rather popular among her generation, something she'd probably watched a lot growing up.

I smiled widely at her antics and racked my brain for Stamos' catchphrase.

I turned to watch her singing to herself without a care in the world. The window was down all the way and the salty sea air whipped through her hair. She was glorious.

"Have mercy," I growled as one corner of my mouth turned up into a crooked grin.

*A/N* A little fluff about getting settled in SF. And I even wrote myself a lil cameo in this chapter!

Before my family moved to beautiful Washington State for my husband's job, I was born and raised in the SF Bay Area and worked as a zookeeper at the SF Zoo. I worked with mostly African Savanna animals (giraffes, ostriches, zebras, and a few antelope species) but it was also my responsibility to drive the zoo truck to Golden Gate Park to care for the herd of bison that live there.

And IMHO, Washington isn't "too green," as Bella once called it. California (and similarly Bella's native Arizona) are, in fact, too brown. 😆

Lastly, if you want to see the house I used as inspiration for their new home in La Honda, google: 223 Rapley Ranch Road

Thanks so much for reading and reviewing! Would love to hear what you think!