Who would have thought

19

"Cold pizza is definitely breakfast," Meredith giggled as she moved down the hallway with Derek, a cup of coffee in her hand, a chart in the other. It had been almost a week since their conversation at his trailer, and Derek was pretty sure they were starting to fall into a very weird friendship. They weren't friends, but they weren't just coworkers either. But whatever they were was nice.

"No, it's not," he shook his head. "It's not...food. I mean, it's food but not healthy."

"Since when does breakfast have to be healthy?"

"Since the beginning of time."

"I'm pretty sure bacon, eggs, sausage, pancakes, hashbrowns, and whatever else people have for breakfast isn't healthy," she pointed out.

"It's healthier than pizza," he laughed. "Pizza is supper food."

"You're just a food nazi."

"I'm a what?"

"A food nazi," she nodded. "Or...foodist. Or...something. You're prejudiced. Against pizza."

"I'm not prejudiced against pizza. Pizza is perfectly fine at certain times of the day. Like supper."

"So you're timeist."

"You need to stop making words up."

"I am not making words up."

"Timeist is not a word."

"It could be."

"It's not."

"But it could be. And it would describe you."

"It doesn't describe me. Pizza is a supper food. Or maybe a lunch food. Not breakfast."

"People eat pancakes all the time for dinner," she shrugged as she stopped at the nurse's station to put down her chart.

"That's different."

"How is that different?"

"It's...you can sub in other things for supper. Not for breakfast."

"That's...you're so full of it," she rolled her eyes.

"If you go out for breakfast, can you order pizza?" he asked.

"Sometimes."

"Really? At what restaurants?"

"Um...restaurants. Not here in Seattle."

"Are they in your head?"

"No," she rolled her eyes again, a small smile playing at the corner of her lips. "It's been a long time since you were in Boston, Der. Things have changed. People are starting to get that pizza is breakfast food."

"They are?" he cocked an eyebrow, laughing quietly.

"They are," she nodded. "It's a whole new movement or whatever. Pizza for breakfast."

"I hadn't heard about that."

"Well, that's probably because you live in the middle of nowhere."

"Oh because you hate my place so much," he smirked.

"I didn't say I hate it. I'm just saying...you miss out on the new movements."

"Especially the ones you make up."

"Just because you eat healthy crap for breakfast doesn't mean everyone does," she pointed out.

"There's a difference between healthy crap and...pizza," he shrugged.

"Again...foodist."

"Fine, I'm a foodist."

"The first step is admitting the problem."