Disclaimer: I don't own these characters...more's the pity!

Author's Note: I've always felt that "Symphony in Knocked Flat" was missing a little something--namely, one of those epilogues that wrap up whatever argument Maddie and David have at the beginning of the episode. So here's one from my imagination...

Symphony in Knocked Flat: The "Lost" Epilogue

Maddie's Guest Room

Maddie opens the door, breakfast tray in hand: toast, juice, cloth napkin, even a white flower from the garden. David is curled up in bed, asleep. "Boogaloo"'s trunks and shoes lay on the floor.

As Maddie crosses to the bed, David rolls onto his back and groans. Maddie carefully sets the tray down on the nightstand. David chooses this moment to open his eyes, and is rewarded with a shot of her trouser-clad derrière.

He pulls himself to a semi-sitting position, obviously with some effort, and peeks under the comforter. Meanwhile, Maddie turns around and sees that he is awake. She sits on the edge of the bed, and reaches her hand out to touch the most gruesome-looking of his several bruises.

Maddie: How are you feeling?

David (wincing at her touch): Disappointed.

Maddie gives him a quizzical look.

David (gestures to the bed): Apparently, I got lucky last night, and I can't even remember it.

Maddie rolls her eyes and stands up. She is not in the mood for his flippancy—she had actually been worried about him!

Maddie: The doctor said you shouldn't be by yourself last night, so I brought you here.

David (trying to settle himself, but it hurts): Yep, that's how all the best blue movies start…(looks her up and down)…My own Nurse Nancy—the uniform could use some work, though…

Maddie (crosses her arms): Guess Gabinov's uppercut hit you pretty hard in the "Reality" lobe.

David: Nothin' a little…(his eyes wander from her chest back to the breakfast tray)…toast won't fix.

Maddie (putting the tray on his lap): Just eat your breakfast.

She turns to walk away. He grabs her hand and kisses the tips of her fingers, then drops her hand. They look at each other in silence for a moment; Maddie is holding back a small smile.

David: So.

Maddie: So.

David (voice low and flirtatious): Can I get a do-over?

Maddie: A do-over? (She pretends to consider.) Wellll…there's a revival of La Bohème at the Dorothy Chandler…

David (with look of extreme distaste): Opera? No way! I wanna redo on YOUR night—not MINE.

Maddie: On my night?

David: Well, yeah—all I got outta last night was having my rugged features rearranged by a Ruskie…not my definition of FUN.

Maddie (starting to steam): Oh, and getting thrown out of the symphony is my definition of FINE?

David: Hey…at least we had a good half hour in the limo before all Beethoven broke loose. What did I get? A ride in a stolen car—and not even a nice one.

Maddie (approaching a rolling boil): You — insensitive — ungrateful — as if I couldn't do better than that, if I was ever so idiotic as to TRY!

David (smiling pretty): Could you?

Maddie says nothing, just growls through her teeth. She picks up a piece of toast and wings it at him, then turns on her heel and stomps out, slamming the door behind her.

Through the door, we hear…

David (O.C.): Yo, Mad-day! Does this mean I don't get my sponge bath?