"I think this tree is perfect." Santana said as they guys set it in the tree stand in the living room.
"It fucking better be." Finn grunted before standing up, "Jesus…that fucker is heavy."
Brett stood up, smirking, "Dude, you're just having a shitty hangover."
"Why the hell am I the only one having a hangover? You drank just as much as I did last night." Finn said.
Brett smirked, "I am having a rough hangover. I'm just not letting it ruin my day, Mr. Hudson."
"I'm going to punch you in the face, Brett." Finn said in monotone.
Brett chuckled, "Cheer up, Brother." He said, patting Finn's shoulder.
"We aren't all in love like you, Brother." Finn smirked.
Santana smiled as Brett glanced at her, grinning.
"Okay, lights are next." She said, reaching into the shopping bags full of Christmas decorations.
"So what are your plans tonight?" Finn asked Brett while Santana was on the phone in his bedroom.
It was early afternoon and they had spent most of the day so far by decorating the apartment.
"San and I are having dinner with my father." Brett muttered.
"Oh yeah." Finn said, "I know you're excited about that."
Brett huffed, "Thrilled." He muttered sarcastically.
"You told Santana about Anne, right?" Finn asked, taking a sip of his soda.
"Yeah." Brett nodded, "She knows we dated in high school."
"It's still strange that 'stepmother' gave you a hand job back in the day." Finn mumbled.
Brett shuddered, "Please stop reminding me."
Santana walked back into the room, "What time is dinner tonight?"
"We're supposed to be there at 6." Brett replied.
"Okay. I have to run an errand and then I need to go home so I can get ready."
Brett nodded and stood up, walking over to her, "He lives close to your apartment so I can come by your place around 5…"
She smiled, "That works. I should get going."
Brett nodded and leaned down, kissing her lips, "I'll see you in a few hours."
She smiled and pulled on her coat.
He walked her to the door and kissed her once more, "I love you." He said quietly.
Santana smiled, "I love you too, Baby."
He winked before she left.
Brett got to the penthouse and knocked on the door.
He straightened his jacket. He was wearing a gray suit with a black dress shirt but no tie.
Santana opened the door, wearing a teal and black dress with her hair wavy down her back.
He smiled, "You look beautiful."
"Thank you, Baby. Come in. I need to put in my earrings."
Brett nodded and walked inside.
Santana walked to her room and put in her earrings. She walked back into the living room where Brett was holding her coat. She smiled as he helped her slip it on.
"Thank you." She smiled.
He winked, "You uh…you really look beautiful, Santana."
She blushed, "Thank you." She said as her hands slid up the lapel of his jacket, "You look really handsome."
Brett swallowed, smiling, "Thanks."
"You okay?" She asked.
He sighed, "I'm not exactly looking forward to tonight."
Santana nodded, "I know but it'll be okay. I'll be there and so will your sister."
Brett couldn't shake the feeling that his father was going to really upset him that night. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath before feeling a soft, warm hand on his cheek. He opened his eyes and smiled.
"It'll be okay, Brett." She whispered.
"I love you." He said quietly, kissing her cheek so that he didn't mess up her lipstick.
She smiled, "I love you too."
Brett held out his hand and she took it, feeling him lovingly squeeze her hand as they headed out of the apartment.
They got to John Wilde's townhouse and rang the doorbell.
The butler answered the door and let them inside.
"Good evening, Mr. Pierce." He nodded, taking Brett and Santana's coats.
"Evening, Drew." Brett muttered.
Drew showed them to the living room where Kitty and Ashley were talking to John and a beautiful brunette that was Santana's age.
The all looked over at Brett and Santana.
Anne smiled, "Brett! It's so good to see you!" she said as she and John walked over to them.
Brett nodded, "You too, Anne. This is Santana, my girlfriend." He said, "San, this is John Wilde, my father and his wife Anne."
John smiled, shaking Santana's hand, "It's a pleasure to meet you, Santana. Dinner's not quite ready. What would you two like to drink?"
"Whiskey." Brett mumbled, hugging Kitty.
"How about you, Santana?" Anne asked.
"Red wine." Santana smiled, "Thank you."
Anne nodded to the butler who left the room to get their drinks as they all sat down. Santana sat next to Brett on one of the couches.
Brett noticed John looking at the Latina.
"How did you two meet?" Anne asked, kindly.
Brett felt Santana squeeze his hand, letting him know it was alright.
"We met at one of Kitty's photography shows." Brett replied, seeing the spark od recognition in his father's eyes.
"You're a model." John said as Drew carried in a tray with their drinks on it.
Santana nodded, "I am." She said before taking a sip of her wine.
John glanced at Brett who clenched his jaw, daring his father to say something.
"Well you're very beautiful so I'm not surprised." Anne smiled.
Santana smiled, "Thank you."
They talked for a while longer till Brett leaned over, "I'll be right back." He whispered into Santana's ear.
She nodded as he stood up and walked to the restroom.
"So how long have you been a model?" John asked her while Anne spoke to Kitty and Ashley.
"Most of my life." Santana replied.
"Well Anne is right…you are beautiful." He grinned.
She smiled, "Thank you."
John nodded, not so subtly looking her over. Santana couldn't understand how someone that had such a good man as their son could be such a…creep. It was clear that John Wilde didn't have much to do with raising Brett Pierce.
Kitty looked over and noticed that Santana seemed slightly uncomfortable.
"So Santana." Kitty said, catching the Latina's attention. "How'd the decorations turn out at Brett's?"
Santana smiled, "Oh they look great."
"Yeah they do." Brett said, walking back in as he took a seat next to his girlfriend, "Finn and I would have been lost without Santana's help."
"I have no doubt about that." Kitty smirked making Brett grin.
"Dinner is ready." Drew announced
Everyone stood up and began to head to the dining room. John grabbed Brett's arm, catching the younger man's attention as the women went onto the dining room.
"I see that we are more alike than I thought." John whispered.
Brett furrowed his brow, "What do you mean?" he asked, confused but he knew he wouldn't like the answer.
"I mean…we both like to have something pretty by our side. Models don't usually have much in the brain department but Santana sure is…beautiful." He smirked.
Brett clenched her jaw, "Keep your fucking eyes on your wife and off my girlfriend."
"Brett, she's a model. She wants people to look at her." John said. "Hell, she's a nude model."
Brett stepped closer to his father, "Listen to me. The only reason I am here is because Kitty asked me to be. I'm not afraid to kick your ass."
"Watch how you talk to me. I am your father, Brett." John said with edge.
Brett clenched his jaw, "Only by blood."
"Hey. You might not like me but I will always be your father. Show some respect."
"Respect is earned, you son of a bitch." Brett muttered.
"Hey!" John said angrily, "This is my house…"
"I really don't care." Brett replied.
"Guys?" Anne said, walking back to the living room.
John cleared his throat, "We're coming, dear."
Brett brushed past John and went to the dining room.
He sat next to Santana as he took a sip of his whiskey.
"You okay?" Santana asked quietly.
Brett took a deep breath, nodding.
"Brett?" Kitty said as John and Anne walked in.
"Alright, so…" John said, clearing his throat before smiling, "Kitty, how did you and Ashley meet?"
After dinner, they went back to the living room and John turned to Brett, "How's your mother?"
Brett clenched his jaw, "You don't get to ask about her."
John glared at the younger man, "I told you to watch your tone with me, Brett."
Brett took a sip of his drink, glancing at his sister.
"I just want to know that Laura is doing alright."
"You've never cared before…" Brett muttered.
"I have always cared about her…" John said. "We just weren't meant to be together."
Brett stood up, "You son of a bitch!" he growled before turning to Santana, "Come on."
Santana looked at Kitty as she stood up.
As Brett and Santana grabbed their coats, John stormed into the foyer, "You can't just talk to me like that. I'm your fucking father."
"I don't have a father!" Brett said, "You're just some piece of shit who couldn't keep his fucking word."
John swung, punching Brett in the jaw.
"Brett!" Santana reached for her boyfriend as he dabbed his busted, bleeding lip.
"John!" Anne screamed.
Kitty ran over as Brett was about to punch John back, "Don't. He's not worth it."
John huffed, "Get out of my house!"
"Gladly." Brett huffed. "Go to hell, John."
Kitty grabbed her and Ashley's coats, "Let's go, Ash."
John sighed, "Kitty…"
"No!" Kitty said, "I tried to give you a chance. I really tried." She sighed, following her brother and the two women out of the townhouse.
John slammed the door after them and Santana pulled Brett close, "Let me see your lip."
"I'm fine, San." Brett sighed, trying to hail a cab.
"I'll get the taxi." Ashley said while Santana and Kitty looked at Brett.
"Let me see your face." Santana told her boyfriend, pointedly.
Brett sighed and turned to face her without meeting her eyes.
She looked at his lip.
"Here." Kitty said, handing Santana a tissue from her purse.
Santana took it and glanced at Brett's eyes before looking back at his lip. She gently dabbed the tissue against his lip.
Brett didn't flinch, he was too angry, and he still refused to meet anyone's eyes.
"Here we go." Ashley said as a van taxi pulled up in front of them.
Kitty gave the driver her address as they all buckled up. Brett glared out the window, trying to calm down. He hated that Santana was seeing him so angry.
They pulled up to Kitty's apartment building, "You're coming in." She told her brother as she paid the driver.
Brett sighed as the four of them headed up to his sister's apartment.
"Sit down." Kitty said, staking her coat off, "I'll get some ice."
They all slipped off their coats and sat down.
Santana sat next to her boyfriend and gently grabbed his chin, turned him to face her.
He closed his eyes, sighing as she looked at his lip in the light.
"Anyone want a drink?" Ashley asked, walking over to the small wet bar Kitty had in her living room.
"Yes." Brett mumbled.
Kitty walked back in with a small bag of ice and handed it to Brett.
"Thanks." He grunted.
"You okay?" Kitty asked, sitting on the other couch.
He sighed, "Yeah…"
Santana licked her lips, unsure of what to say.
"Fuck." Brett muttered, laying his head back, "He's such an asshole."
"Put the ice on your lip." Kitty said as Ashley handed Brett the glass of whiskey.
He took a sip, grimacing at the sting of the alcohol on his lip before turning to his sister, "Sorry."
Kitty shook her head, "What happened between the living room and dinner?"
Brett huffed, "Nothing."
"Brett." Kitty said, "Anne had to go back to get you guys. What happened?"
"He's just an asshole, Kitty." Brett said.
"Tell me." Kitty said with force.
"He said that he and I had more in common than he thought." Brett said, fuming.
"What does that even mean?" Kitty asked.
Brett shook his head, "He said that we both like to have 'something pretty by our side'" He huffed.
Santana bit her bottom lip and squeezed Brett's arm, "Put the ice on your lip, Baby."
Brett sighed and held the ice against his lip, closing his eyes.
"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have agreed to have dinner with him." Kitty sighed.
"Kit, it's fine. You were just trying to get to know him better." Brett muttered before taking a sip of his drink.
"Well that's over with. I don't want anything to do with him." Kitty said.
Brett drained his drink and look at his sister, "That asshole actually said that he's always cared about Mom."
Kitty huffed, nodding, "I know."
Santana squeezed Brett's arm and he finally looked at her. She leaned over and kissed his cheek without saying anything.
"I'm sorry about tonight, Ladies." Brett muttered, looking into Santana's eyes.
She shook her head, "It's okay. You didn't do anything wrong."
"Yeah. Your dad is kind of an asshole." Ashley said.
"The apple fell pretty far from the tree." Santana said, gently scratching the back of Brett's neck.
He took a deep breath, grateful to hear her say that.
"Yeah. You're nothing like him, Brett." Kitty said.
He nodded, "Good."
It was nearly 10pm when Brett and Santana got to his apartment.
Finn was sitting in the living room, playing a video game when he heard the door shut.
They took off their coats and hung them up before walking to the living room.
"How'd it go?" He asked, glancing up from the television, "What the fuck happened to your face?" he added, surprised to see Brett's swollen lip.
"John." Brett muttered.
Finn huffed, "Are you okay?" He asked, concerned.
The blond man nodded, "I'm fine. We're going to bed."
"Alright. Night guys." Finn said, knowing that Brett clearly needed some alone time with Santana.
"Night." Brett muttered.
They walked into his room and he sat on the edge of his bed. She sat next to him and grabbed his hand.
Brett sighed and kissed the back of her smaller hand, flinching slightly at the pain.
She frowned, "I can't believe he hit you."
Brett shrugged, "He's an ass."
She nodded, "I meant what I said."
He looked at her, waiting for her explain.
"You're nothing like him." She said, "Not even a little bit."
Brett smiled, ignoring the pain in his lip as he leaned forward, kissing her lips.
She pulled back, "Your lip, Baby."
He shook his head, "I don't care." He muttered before kissing her.
She cupped his jaw and kissed back, moaning when he deepened it.
After a moment he pulled back and whispered, "I love you."
She smiled, "I love you too, Brett." She said before adding, "Come on. Let's get into bed. I want you to hold me."
He nodded and stood up.
When they climbed into bed, Brett pulled her close and kissed her forehead, "You mean the world to me, San." He muttered, sighing, "You're not just something pretty by my side…"
She smiled and pressed a kiss to his bare chest, "I know, Baby." She whispered, wrapping her arm around his waist as she scooted impossibly closer.
"Don't ever forget." He muttered, closing his eyes tiredly.