"Hermann," he scolded lightly, patting his husband's arm playfully-patronizingly as they started along the designated pedestrian section of the famous bridge. "Be nice and put things back the way you found them."

Newt had been to San Francisco only briefly before--once for a conference Pre-Kaiju days, and once in a radiation suit, just outside the uninhabitable zone, to test soil samples in his early PPDC days. He had never had the chance to stand on the bridge that had been destroyed more times than he could count in his replayings of the Trespasser videos.

There were bicyclists out, as well as a few tourists along the route, but there were few enough people and the path was wide enough that Hermann wasn't in danger of being run into as they walked.

"To think, this is where it all started."