Meredith wandered through the small display dining room, nodding her head in appreciation at the craftsmanship of the design. The table, chairs, hutch and china cabinet were darkly stained and beautifully shaped; large, smooth, intricately carved. The table seemed to be carved by hand, the edges wavy and layered, but perfectly symmetrical from all sides. The feet met the ground before curving back on themselves, matching the feet of the chairs. Light, powder blue pillows rested on the seat of each chair; and the backs curved inward, and then back out, before it too curled back on itself.
The small corner hutch was large and smooth, but much more discreet, obviously supposed to fade in the background, while still matching the set. And the large, upright china cabinet was tall and wide, boasting an array of drawers on the bottom and small cabinets on the top, each door holding a small, stained glass window.
Meredith slid her hand over the smooth surface of the shiny table and turned to smile at Derek, who had his back turned towards her, focusing on the list of features and prices posted on the tall china cabinet. She sighed and wandered up to him, her hands reaching out on their own to wrap around his waist. He shifted slightly at the contact, and then his left hand found her fingers. Meredith smiled into his back as she leaned into his warmth.
She remained silent and still while he finished his assessment of the posted stats, his fingers brushing over hers as his eyes shot back and forth across the paper. Then he sighed and leaned back into her embrace, turning slightly to survey the full display. Meredith turned with him, barely allowing her grip to loosen as she did so.
"It's nice," Derek finally spoke, his deep voice vibrating through his back. She revelled in the feeling and pulled herself a little closer. She could almost see him smiling as he slid his free hand back to rest at her hip.
"It is nice," she agreed evenly.
He snorted, his finger hooking through a belt loop of her pants. "Do you make all of your assessments without being able to see what you're assessing?" He asked, sarcasm heavy in his voice. "I'd hate to be one of your patients..."
She laughed against him. "Ha ha. I've already looked at it, while you were distracted with the poster."
"It's good to read the poster," he countered. "Then you know what you're getting into."
"Except you've read the poster on every display set, even the ugly ones. It's a waste of time on the ugly ones."
"I'm being thorough."
She rolled her eyes. "Well, you have your way, I have mine. I look first, and then read. It's more efficient," she told him, and then added, "Just like my way of house hunting."
He muttered something incomprehensible to her, but she let it go, knowing he was stumped for a comeback. She kept the fingers of his left hand weaved through hers, but released the added grip of her right hand to open it, and rub her palm up and down his lower torso. "It is nice," she repeated.
"But..." He prompted, intuitively knowing there was more to her assessment.
Meredith pressed her face into his back and breathed deeply before releasing her embrace and slid around him, making sure to keep her right arm around his back. He accommodated her move by draping his arm over her shoulder and allowing her to lean against him. "But... I think it's too nice," she said gently, not wanting to say a firm no if her liked the set. "It's really fancy, maybe a little ostentatious," she explained. "I'm just not sure it's us."
He nodded his agreement and pressed his lips down on the top of her head. "I was thinking the same thing."
"Really? Cause if you like it we can-"
"Really," he reassured her.
She smiled to herself. In the dozen or so display sets they had looked at that afternoon, Meredith had tried to convince him at every one of them that if he liked it, they could get it anyway. She wanted him to be happy with their choice more than she cared about their choice. And she knew he was getting tired of her inevitable question, but was tolerating it for her.
The warehouse store was large and open, boasting rows upon rows of sample rooms of all different sorts; kitchen, living room, dining room, office, bedroom. Derek and Meredith had already spent their entire morning in the store, and the time was now moving slowly into early afternoon.
They wandered together to the next display set, Meredith refusing to allow any distance to accumulate between them. He tried to make a bee line for the poster, but she stopped him, her arm tightening around him, and her hand even going so far as to clutch a fistful of his shirt to ensure he couldn't escape her hold.
"Just try it my way once, Derek." She turned them to face the eight-person, cherry-stained rectangular table with matching sleight chairs and a corner hutch.
"But it's better to read the poster first," he countered, motioning his head towards it, his fingers tightening along her side.
She smiled at his tenacity. "Why?"
"Because, what if you like it, and then the stats are horrible? Then you've made an attachment to a bad piece of furniture."
She snorted and turned to eye him, her own eyes dancing with laughter. "Are you seriously warning me about the dangers of making an emotional attachment to a dining room set? Seriously, Derek, it's furniture. You're not supposed to fall in love with a freaking table."
He laughed with her. "That's not exactly what I meant," he muttered.
"Derek, if we buy a really nice table, will you love it more than me?" She smirked and raised an eyebrow.
He rolled his eyes and shook his head at her humour. "You're twisting my words."
"And you're avoiding my question," she countered immediately.
He sighed, realizing he was, once again, going to lose the argument. "It would have to be one hell of a table," he said easily, his eyes sparkling.
She huffed and reached her hand around to smack him across the chest. "That's not nice, Derek."
He laughed and turned to pull her into a hug. "I could never love a table more than you," he stated, making it sound like a large feat, and then he sighed. "Truth be told, Meredith, I could never love anything or anyone as much as I love you." And suddenly his tone was back to normal; honest, open, dreamy.
Meredith was surprised to find herself fighting off tears at his honest words. "You too," she responded easily as she hugged him close.
It had been a little more than two weeks since the last night his family had been in town; the night they had stayed up until dawn discussing his experience the day she had drown. Although she knew it had been him who had pulled her out of the water, and she knew it had been him who had called time of death on her mother, Meredith had never thought to wonder what he had gone through that horrible day. She had never thought to wonder what anyone else had gone through that day. Her own experience had been so remarkable that all other thoughts about that day had simply paled in comparison. But when Derek had cried as he told her how useless and hopeless he had felt, and how he had collapsed after her mother had died and hadn't been able to function or interact again until Bailey had found him, she had realized just how much of an effect her drowning had on him.
Denny had told her that if she didn't go back that it would change him forever, but she had never realized that living without her for four hours had been fours hours too long for Derek. He had already changed, just not in the way he would have if she had never come back to him. And the clinginess and hovering he had suffered from after her accident was nothing to the way she was feeling now. Ever since that night when she had cried while he told her, and held him while he cried, she had been inexplicably clingy. Any time she was in the same proximity as him, she had to be touching him. If his hands were free, she was holding them. If his arms were free, she was hugging him. She couldn't help it. It was as if knowing how devastated he had been by losing her had made her realize just how close she had come to losing him. If she hadn't fought her way back, she wouldn't be here right now; wrapped in his arms. Shopping for furniture. Furniture for the apartment they had shared for almost a month now.
She knew Derek had noticed her sudden reluctance to be away from him, but he hadn't mentioned it. He hadn't needed to. He understood. He was actually quite welcome to it; closing his fingers around hers at every opportunity, resting a hand on her back while they walked together, wrapping his arms around her whenever he found her in close proximity. They were on par with each other's emotions now. They were healing. Together.
"So," Meredith finally spoke up. "What do you think." She turned them so that they could both see the set without having to let go of each other.
He shook his head. "I think it's too big."
She nodded her agreement. "Yeah, and it doesn't even have any of those slider things to make it smaller."
He laughed at her term, but didn't bother correcting her. He was the one who read the posters. She was the one who wandered the display and made fun of him. It made him smile.
Releasing his tight hold on her, Derek turned them so they could wander to the next display.
"This is really nice," Meredith commented immediately at the mahogany table and matching chairs. The oval table came with two 'slider things,' as Meredith called them, and a choice of four, six, or eight chairs. The set was elegant, but simple, the edge of the table lightly carved, but not the least bit pretentious. Six chairs sat with the display; the ends with arm rests, but the middles not. Each chair was a perfect match with the table; simple, curved in for the spine, light beige cushion on the seat. And the matching corner china cabinet and side hutch would sit perfectly on their outer wall at home.
Derek nodded his agreement and wandered over to the poster while Meredith went to work running her hands over the smooth mahogany surfaces and pulling open every drawer and cupboard. They met back at the table, her arms running across his abdomen as she leaned into his chest. He ran his hands up and down her back and sighed.
"What do you think?" He asked quietly.
"I love it."
He smirked. "You know you shouldn't make emotional attachments to furniture, Meredith," he jokingly chastised.
Meredith snorted at the role reversal. He had probably been waiting for her to say something like that to finally get her back. "Well, it is one hell of a table."
He laughed in full.
"So, does it get your stamp of approval?" She asked him, motioning towards the poster.
He nodded, closing his arms around her and resting his chin in her hair. "It does."
She smiled into his chest. "Good. And it'll match the living room stuff." They had finally gotten out to buy a television the previous week, and in the process had found a small entertainment unit and coffee table, both also mahogany.
"Yeah, it will," he agreed. "It's like we were thinking ahead."
"Mmmhmm," she agreed, losing herself in the comfort of his arms. "So, what else are we still lacking?" They both had the whole day off work, and needed to take advantage of the opportunity to shop while they had a chance. Upon putting together the entertainment unit perpendicular to the outer wall and lining the couches up, they realized just how large their living room area was. So, that morning they had had already picked out an arm chair, a recliner, and some small side tables. Their additional living room set, new dining room set, and the small kitchen table and chairs they had also picked out earlier would all be shipped to their apartment the next day, so anything else they wanted needed to be picked out now to be sent with the load.
Derek sighed, his grip loosening as he began to run his hands along her back again. "Well, let's see. Living room and dining room are done."
"And the kitchen," Meredith added. The apartment had, of course, come with large appliances, and they had either brought or bought all of the necessary small appliances. And a quick shopping trip after work one evening had rewarded them with a new set of dishes, and pots and pans.
"And the kitchen," Derek agreed. "Do we need anything for the bedroom?"
Meredith thought for a moment, and then shook her head. "No, I don't think so. Do you want to maybe start looking for a desk?" They had decided, as their landlord Ron had suggested, to turn the second bedroom into a home office.
"Yeah, we can have a look," Derek agreed easily, suddenly releasing Meredith so he could turn to flag down a salesperson to have the dining room set added to their ever growing list.
000
Meredith dropped her tray down onto the cafeteria table beside her boyfriend before dragging the chair closer to him and plopping herself down. She said a quick hi to Mark before bumping Derek playfully with her shoulder. "Did everything arrive okay?" She asked excitedly. She had been in early that morning, but Derek had only been scheduled for an afternoon surgery, and so had been available to be home for the delivery truck. They had spent the rest of the previous afternoon selecting not just a desk, but an entire office set, along with a futon, so that the room could be used by a guest should they ever have one. And right as they were about to leave, Derek's eyes had landed on a section of small tables, so they had picked out a simple wall table to sit next to the front door. Needless to say, their bill was well into the four figures. But it was worth it, because they were pretty sure they were done. Soon they would be completely moved in.
Derek nodded; a large smile on his face to match hers. "Everything was accounted for. And Mark, here, was just offering to come over and help us put the office stuff together." Along with a desk, the set included a filing cabinet, a shelving unit, a printer table and bookcase.
Mark narrowed his eyes at his friend, stopping mid chew on a mouthful of lettuce. "Excuse me? When did I offer to do anything of the sort?" He paused, and swallowed. "What are we even talking about?"
Meredith smiled and spoke up before Derek had a chance to. "Derek and I picked out a bunch of furniture yesterday and it was delivered today. Apparently the office stuff comes in pieces and you have to put it together."
Mark raised an eyebrow as he shifted his eyes towards Derek. "And you think I'd want to come and help with that?"
Derek scoffed. "Right, I forgot how horrible you are building furniture." He turned his attention to Meredith. "You should have seen him in college when we moved out of rez and into an apartment off campus. He used the box his desk came in as his desk for months."
Mark shook his head. "Not true, Shepherd. It was like a week. Maybe two. And it wasn't my fault. That piece was missing!"
"What piece?"
"The little hooky thing that went under the..." Mark trailed off, glaring at Derek. "Don't look at me like that. I'm a surgeon. I can put people back together. A desk is nothing."
"Great, so you'll come over and help," Meredith said brightly.
Mark paused, mouth half open as he realized he had been tag teamed into this position. "Very Socratic, Grey, I'm impressed," he glared at her. "Fine. I'll come over and help."
Meredith laughed at his expression. "It'll be fun," she commented. "You two boys can do the building thing, and I'll feed you."
Mark appraised her thoughtfully. "You cook?"
Derek snorted and responded before Meredith had a chance. "Nope, but she's got all of the take out numbers memorized."
"That's not true," she countered.
He smiled at her. "Are you kidding? We've been there a month, and you're already on a first name basis with the pizza guy."
"Yeah, well," Meredith started, knowing he was right. "I'm just friendlier than you."
Derek laughed aloud and wrapped his arm around his girlfriend. "Whatever," he mumbled, snatching a fry off her plate.
Meredith smiled and leaned her head onto his shoulder. She turned her attention back to Mark. "So, what did you do with my intern? I haven't even seen him today." Ever since Mark had allowed Myers to scrub in on the mole resection, and Myers had managed to not kill or permanently disfigure the patient, Mark had allowed the young surgeon to scrub in on quite a few of his surgeries. At first he would only let the intern observe, but after a week of grilling questions, he started to let him assist.
Mark shrugged. "He's in post op now. And sorry I stole him this morning, but come on, the kid brought me a cappuccino, without even being asked. Just showed up with it. He's obviously a fast learner. Your buddy Karev never figured out the finer points of being an intern." Alex was, of course, pissed off that Mark was allowing an intern to do what he himself had spent months attempting.
Meredith rolled her eyes. "The finer points of being an intern?"
Mark nodded. "Tell me you've never brought a drink for your superior."
Meredith scrunched her face, wanting to prove him wrong, but a memory of bringing Bailey a latte early in her own internship flashed through her mind. "Whatever," she said, deferring the question. "It's still not what being an intern is for."
Mark smirked. "It is for my interns."
Meredith was about to retort when a familiar beeping erupted from the other side of the table. Mark sighed and reached for his beeper. He pursed his lips and nodded. "Good. My OR has finally opened up." He looked up at Derek and Meredith. "What time did you want me over tonight?"
Derek shrugged. "Maybe around five? It'll give us a chance to get some work done before dinner." He glanced at his watch. "My OR should be clear within the hour, and my surgery should be quick. I should be home, and if not," he glanced at Meredith, "Mer will be."
Mark nodded, a small smile gracing his face at the realization that Derek was comfortable with him and Meredith alone together, but he didn't mention it. "Okay. I'll see you then."
Meredith smiled and bumped Derek's shoulder gently with hers as the plastic surgeon left the table. "I'm glad you're inviting Mark over."
He turned towards her and smiled back. "Me too. I think... I think I've missed him. He was like my brother growing up, you know? He's always been there."
Meredith nodded. "Have you forgiven him?"
He met her eyes and tilted his head as he thought. "I'm not sure," he answered honestly. "I'm definitely forgiving him, but where is the cut off? When do I know the process is over?"
Meredith wasn't sure if he was actually asking her, or simply wondering aloud. Either way, she shook her head. "I don't know."
"It's weird, you know? For the first few months, I couldn't think about him without feeling nauseous. And then, when I caught him talking to you, I just couldn't handle it. I think I saw red."
"The time you punched him, you mean?"
He laughed. "Yeah, that time." He bumped her shoulder. "I've never punched anyone before, not like that, I mean. It was definitely an experience."
Meredith laughed.
"Anyway," he continued. "I thought I'd never even be able to look him in the eye again, but... I guess it's been easier than I thought. It takes a lot more effort to hate someone than to forgive them. And I spent so much of last year wallowing in myself and my unhappiness, and hating so many people that I..." he regarded closely. "I almost missed seeing what I did have."
She smiled at him, her hand reaching out to squeeze his. "I'm glad you've figured things out."
He smiled. "Me too."
000
Meredith strode down the hall and dropped off her charts at the nurse's station. Her shift was quickly nearing its end, and it was looking like she was actually going to get off on time today. Her interns were accounted for, she had checked all of her patients, and there was no reason to believe she may be asked to scrub in on anything that evening.
"Grey!" She turned to catch the sight of her Chief Resident heading her direction. She cursed under her breath at herself for believing she would be leaving on time.
"Dr. Bailey," she greeted with a curt nod.
"I just had a conversation with the Chief," Bailey said quickly. "You care to explain anything to me?"
Meredith blinked. This was definitely not what she had expected. And she wasn't even sure what this was. "I'm sorry, what?"
Bailey narrowed her eyes at her former intern and motioned for them to wander down the hall for privacy. "The Chief made me aware of something I'm disappointed I didn't hear first hand from you."
Meredith blinked again. Having spent a year as the woman's intern, she had become relatively good at reading her expression, and she didn't really look mad, just... something. Something Meredith couldn't put her finger on. Something she had never experienced before. Her mind raced as she tried to come up with something that Bailey would want to know. She and Derek had been living together for a month, but that was common knowledge throughout the hospital. Plus, she knew it wasn't something Bailey would care to know. If Meredith had gone running up to Bailey when Derek had agreed to move in with her, Meredith would most likely received a lecture on appropriate conversation at work. And she'd taken more than enough slack about her relationship in the past year, especially from her former resident. So, that definitely wasn't it. And she couldn't come up with anything else.
"I'm sorry, Dr. Bailey, but I really have no idea what you're talking about."
Bailey cracked a small smile. "I'm talking about your test results. Chief says they've been out for three weeks."
Meredith inhaled sharply. "Oh, yeah three weeks..."
"And, apparently, you ranked number one."
Meredith couldn't help the smile that swept across her face. "Yeah, I did. I'm sorry I didn't tell you. I guess I didn't think about it."
"Well, I'm very proud of you, Grey."
The words took her by surprise, but Bailey was already continuing before Meredith could speak.
"Though, I am surprised about one thing. Ranking first means bragging rights, Grey. And yet, I haven't heard any mention of it. Have you told anyone?"
"Derek. And Cristina, because she was going insane trying to figure out who beat her. And Sloan, because he was there when Cristina yelled at me." She shrugged. "Cristina placed second, by the way."
"I figured. I heard she was harassing other second years for something, but I never realized what it was." Bailey paused for a moment, her eyes narrowing at Meredith. "Do you know about the other two?"
Meredith nodded. "Izzy and Alex were fifth and sixth."
Bailey smiled proudly. "Four in the top sixth, not too shabby."
Meredith nodded. She had never thought about how the results reflected their resident.
"You know," Bailey said, turning her attention back to Meredith. "The day the preliminary results were released, the Chief called us all in one at a time to tell us whether our interns passed or failed..." She trailed off, regarding Meredith through narrowed eyes. After a few moments she nodded to herself, having obviously made a decision. "The Chief called me in and told me someone had failed and I'm sorry to say that for a horrible second I thought it was you."
Meredith was silent, unsure of how to respond to that.
"And don't get me wrong, Grey," Bailey continued quickly. "It's not because I didn't think you were good enough, far from it. But after the week you had, with Susan passing away and then having to write the test on the afternoon of the funeral... I didn't think anyone could handle that. I petitioned the Chief to give you at least another day, but he said his hands were tied, that the test was standard and he couldn't change anything." She shook her head. "I don't know how you did it."
Meredith exhaled. "Yeah, I don't really know either. It could so easily have gone badly. My... Thatcher saw us, at the funeral, Derek and I. We made a point to go in late and sit in the back, but he spotted us leaving, and he pretty much chased me to the car. And he yelled. And..." she sighed, suddenly wondering why she was telling all of this to Bailey, but the older surgeon looked concerned and interested, so Meredith continued. "Well, let's just say I've effectively lost a father as well." She shrugged. "And I just sort of broke down or something on the drive back to the hospital. I was trying to study, but I couldn't make sense of any of the words. I couldn't think. And I was terrified, you know? Cause I knew how important the test was, but I couldn't seem to communicate that to whatever part of my mind was numb to the pressure.
"Anyway, Derek stopped the car before we got there and he managed to talk some sense into me." She paused for a moment before continuing. "He's the only reason I was in any state to write that test."
Bailey nodded. "You two have done well together," she agreed. "I know I wasn't exactly supportive at first," she said, causing Meredith to laugh, "But I must say you've handled your relationship very professionally. It's never interfered with work. You've never used it to get special treatment."
Meredith shook her head in agreement. She and Derek had always been careful to keep their relationship as separate from their work as they could.
"I'm proud to say you were my intern, Grey. And that's not something I would normally find myself saying to the intern I found naked in the backseat of an Attendings car in the first month."
Meredith felt herself blush at the statement. "Yeah, that was... that wasn't good. We don't like... that's not a regular thing for us," she found herself saying quickly. "That was definitely a one time thing. I was drunk, and-"
"Grey," Bailey said, holding up her hand. "I don't need to hear about it."
"Right, sorry, you just got me going, and I have a hard time stopping sometimes if no one stops me."
"So I've noticed."
Meredith shrugged and bit down on her lower lip with her upper incisors. "Yeah..."
"You weren't an easy intern," Bailey said suddenly. "Actually, you were probably the most frustrating intern I've ever worked with."
Meredith was taken aback. Even if she'd been given time to respond, she had no idea what she would have said.
"I mean, come on, Grey. You're the only intern of mine I've ever had to actually bring back to life. And that was the second time I'd worked on you."
"It's not my fault my appendix chose that day to-"
"I'm not finished, Grey," she snapped. "I've treated you twice. You almost got yourself blown up. Your mother was a patient many times. Your sister and your niece were patients. And Susan. And your best friend. And then what Shepherd did to you. Do you have any idea how hard it was to keep track of what stresses may be affecting you? And still, you found a way to be there for your friends. You are annoyingly loyal, do you realize that? Most interns will confess all with minimal pressure, but not you. You covered for an unauthorized autopsy. You helped Stevens after she cut the LVAD. You helped Karev study. You helped transfuse a brain dead John Doe. You were the only intern Sloan would let near his patients for some unknown reason. You pushed every boundary. You broke the rules. And yet..." Bailey trailed off.
"And yet I've never been prouder of any intern I've ever had. You may have been the most frustrating, but you were definitely the most rewarding." Bailey nodded, having come to the end of her rant. "It's been a rewarding experience working with you, Meredith." She stuck out a hand.
Meredith was shocked at her former resident's sudden revelations. "I, uh...Thank-you, you too," Meredith finally found some words and shook her hand. "Thank-you, Dr. Bailey."
"Miranda," she corrected gently.
Meredith felt her jaw drop slightly at the name, or more the meaning behind it. She swallowed. "Miranda," she said lightly, nodding her appreciation.
"Well," Miranda said louder, as if suddenly realizing she had spent the better part of ten minutes complementing a former intern. "Congrats on the test score. I'll see you tomorrow morning."
And then she disappeared down the hall, leaving a stunned Meredith in her wake.
000
"Mark, did you want a refill, or are you okay with your drink?" Meredith called as she set three plates and sets of utensils down on the brand new dining room table.
"I'm fine with this, Grey," Mark responded as he and Derek made their way over to the table, leaving the half dismantled desk behind in the living room. Apparently the two world class surgeons had failed to measure the doorway, even though she had suggested it, and had put the desk together perfectly. In the living room. And when they had tried to lift it into the office it hadn't fit. By many inches it hadn't fit. Many. They had grumbled and sworn and blamed the desk and blamed the doorway and blamed each other. And Meredith had laughed and rolled her eyes and told them they were both idiots, and then she had gone back to constructing the front hall table. That had been about an hour ago. Since then Meredith had finished putting together the table. And the kitchen table. And she'd set the dinner table, and made a salad. The boys were still working on distinguishing which screws could be undone to break the desk down enough to fit through the door without losing its stability or not being able to put it back together afterwards.
The pizza had shown up several minutes ago, effectively signalling a temporary time out in the construction zone. It was already sitting on the table, lid closed to conserve heat. Meredith went back to the kitchen and grabbed the large, full salad bowl.
"Here we go," she said as she set it down on the table and then collapsed onto the chair next to Derek, with Mark sitting across from them. "Wow, I feel so domestic," she said suddenly.
"Hmm?" Derek prompted.
She smiled, glancing between him and Mark. "I feel so domestic," she repeated. "With the setting of the table and the making of the food while the men work," she said with a low voice.
Derek scoffed. "Ordering pizza is not making food."
"It's the same thing."
He shook his head, a large smile on his face. "It's so not the same thing."
"She did make the salad," Mark commented as he reached for a slice of pizza.
"Yeah!" Meredith said quickly. "Thank-you, Mark."
Derek rolled his eyes. "She didn't make salad. She made lettuce with salad dressing on it. That doesn't count."
"That's what salad is, flavoured lettuce," Meredith fought, causing both Derek and Mark to laugh.
"The lettuce is supposed to be a more neutral thing," he told her. "Like bread is for a sandwich."
"But bad bread makes a crappy sandwich."
He nodded. "Just like bad lettuce makes a crappy salad. But good lettuce by itself doesn't make a salad."
She glares at him. "I put vegetables in."
He looked surprised. "What kind?"
"Cucumber."
"And."
She smiled. "Cucumber."
He laughed and shook his head.
"The only other thing in the crisper was red peppers."
"Red peppers are good in salad," Mark said.
She shrugged. "Yeah, but they're hard to cut."
Derek laughed loudly, his arm finding her waist as he pulled her in close for a quick half hug. "What would I do without you?"
"Probably eat less pizza," Mark answered for her.
"What is wrong with pizza?" Meredith demanded. "Of all the fast food, it's definitely not the worst."
"And definitely not the best," Derek countered.
She rolled her eyes. "I gave in to the salad, didn't I?" They'd made a deal that on nights where they ordered pizza, they would have a salad. It was the best middle ground they could agree on.
Derek smirked. "It still doesn't make the pizza healthier."
Meredith shook her head and turned towards Mark for support.
But Mark shook his head. "Sorry, Grey, I have to go with Derek on this one."
"How do you not like pizza?"
He shrugged. "It's not that. I love pizza, but not often. You can't keep this figure," he motioned to himself, "And eat junk all the time."
Meredith laughed as Derek cut in to counter that it wasn't a look thing, it was a health thing. And they argued about the benefits of each. And they argued about their lives back when they had been rooming together in college and had set to making healthy meals. And they argued about exercise plans. And they argues about whose room had been bigger in college, though Meredith wasn't sure how they had made that jump. She just sat back and watched in awe as Derek and Mark seamlessly fell back into an old routine. They were arguing because it was fun. Derek was animated and quick and witty, and they obviously touched on some old disagreements that she was sure had deeper meanings, but she was far too enthralled by their interaction to cut in and ask. They spent a good hour working on the pizza and salad, before moving back to the desk, still arguing about whose fault it had been that it didn't fit.