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After their wedding dance, but during their wedding night; after the credits, but before the kiss, Denny and Alan were having another drink on the balcony.
"It's a pity we made a less than favourable impression on the Chinese," Alan frowned. "They looked like they had suitably deep pockets. We might have wrung another season out of them. Or at least finished this one."
"And risked the wedding episode?" Denny gave Alan a reproachful look. "I thought you loved me."
"We might still have had the wedding episode a few weeks later."
"I've got the mad cow, Alan, I can't be expected to still remember I love you in a few weeks' time."
"I'll keep reminding you."
"You'd better. And anyway, what is this 'another season' crap? We'll bounce back. I've been getting cancelled since the fifties and I'm still around. Denny Crane! I'm too much of an institution to ignore."
Alan laughed. "That you are."
"Damn right."
"Still, I'll be sorry to see all this go. We've had some good times."
Denny grinned around his cigar. "Canadian shacks."
"Dress-up shenanigans."
"Night terrors.
"True love."
Denny chuckled. "If only we'd had sex the slashers would have been all over us. They like me, you know. We go way back."
"I'm sure they already are."
Denny grinned lecherously. "All those women, fantasizing about me naked."
"And still you kissed Shirley."
"She wants me," Denny said, as he got out of his chair and waved Alan to the balcony. "Besides," he set down his glass and cigar, folded his arms around Alan and smiled conspiratorially, "the kiss gets reserved for slash fiction."
When their lips met it didn't feel like walls were coming down or barriers broken. Perhaps, Alan considered as his mouth opened beneath Denny's, because there were no walls left.