"Well don't you look just stuffed to the gills and utterly happy about it."

I take a careful seat beside him, not wanting to jostle just in case he actually ate a little too much. It can take awhile to digest and the last thing we need is a mass return on the stuffing. There are still people milling around the bar and picking at the food and Derek's deep into a conversation with a guy I only vaguely recognize.

I'd definitely gone a little bit overboard on the pies, but a good half of the spread is gone at least. All-in-all, it seems like a rousing success.

"There'll probably be some leftovers," I tell him as I settle back into the couch. "You know, as something to tide you over until your next pizza."