Author's Note: I'm getting so excited for David and Patrick's big day, and I hope we see Clint and Marcy Brewer again. Those thoughts were kicking around my head and out came this little one-shot. I hope you enjoy. - Ella

Disclaimer: I don't own Schitt's Creek (I'm not a Rose, for heaven's sake!). No copyright infringement is intended.

"I'm so happy for you, son." Clint firmly grips Patrick by the shoulder, father and son sharing the same shy grin. "Your mom, too. We're just thrilled."

Patrick half ducks his head. "Thanks, Dad. That means so much to me. I know this wasn't exactly the wedding day you imagined I'd have a few years ago."

Clint's face grows a little more somber. He's a very private man and grew up in a household where men didn't discuss their feelings. But since Patrick's coming out (the delay for which Clint blamed himself and his 'strong but silent' attitude), he's been making a real effort. So he just gives Patrick's shoulder another tight squeeze and reaches out to adjust his crisp white bowtie. "You are exactly as I'd pictured you would be – trussed up in a tuxedo that your fiancé picked out which you secretly kind of hate, panicking slightly, like all grooms do, and about to wed the perfect person for you in this whole world."

Patrick looks a little conflicted. "But you pictured a woman, right?"

Ah, so his son is still worried he's somehow disappointed his parents by being gay, Clint realizes sadly. "Your mom and I absolutely could not care less about that," he replies instantly and emphatically. "We really couldn't. David is wonderful."

Patrick raises his eyebrows skeptically.

"David is special." Clint corrects. "And he's one lucky fellow." Patrick beams at his father. "I just hope he's not too disappointed at how dull and uninteresting his new in-laws are. I mean, our idea of a wild night is Clue and pizza."

"Oh, no worries there. Mrs. Rose generates enough drama for three households." Father and son laugh softly for a few minutes. "So," Patrick asks, "any words of wisdom for a successful marriage?"

Clint thinks about his life with Marcy. "Talk things out. Laugh with each other, not at each other. Try not to go to bed angry. Apologize when you need to."

Patrick nods. "Sounds good, Dad. I love you."

"I love you, too, son. Let's go get you married."

"I'm so happy for you, son." Johnny stands in the middle of the motel room watching David ping-pong back and forth from the bathroom to the window.

"What am I doing?" David cries disconsolately.

Johnny's spirits sink. This wedding is getting off to a terrible start.

David reaches up to grab his hair and Johnny feels a flash of panic – David spent an hour styling his hair just right and now he is nanoseconds away from messing it up. When his son calms down, Johnny knows, he will only insist on redoing the whole thing and the musicians are on the clock.

"Well, your getting married to – " Johnny starts, trying to put as much reassurance as possible into his tone.

David throws up his hands. "This is a cataclysmic mistake!"

"To a wonderful man who loves you very much," Johnny perseveres. He blames Moira for this. She is a terrible role model when it comes to keeping things in proportion.

"That's just it," David rants. "He's perfect! There's no way this doesn't end in divorce."

Johnny sighs. "Now, David, you can't possibly believe that." He watches David pace like a caged animal for a few more minutes. "Come here and let me fix your bowtie."

David rolls his eyes and huffs over. "Yes, yes I do." He lifts his chin, scrunches up his eyes and groans in agony as Johnny reaches forward and does up the white tie, deliberately taking a little longer than he needs so that his son will just be still for a few minutes. "We'll start off all sunshine and rainbows, but then I'll inevitably screw up one too many times and one day he'll look up from the breakfast table and declare, 'You know what? You, David Rose, are just not worth it.'"

Johnny feels a wave of regret and shame, and not for the first nor likely the last time. If he had been there more for his son growing up, surely David wouldn't have such crushing self-esteem issues. But he is determined to be there for his son today. "Patrick will never do that. He got over your 'throuple' past, didn't he?" Johnny says gently, still lingering over the bowtie, which at this point is perfection.

David nods slowly over his father's fingers at his throat.

"And he forgave you for up-selling that robber, right?" Another reluctant nod. "And for borrowing Roland's baby to land an account?" David rolls his eyes. "And your nighttime oopsidaisy. And – "

"Oh my god, stop!" David shrank back in horror from the memory of that last example. "I told you he was perfect."

"What I'm trying to say, son, is that he's perfect for you. I've watched you two build a solid relationship these past three years and I honestly don't think there's anything you can't overcome together."

David's mouth softens into a sweet, shy grin. "Well," he says quietly, "in the face of all that evidence, I guess I have to agree."

Johnny sighs in relief. Another Rose successfully talked off the ledge.

"So, any pearls of wisdom for a successful marriage?"

Johnny has thought about this a lot over the last 40 years. But his relationship with his wife is so singular, and Patrick is as far from Moira in personality and temperament as it is possible for a person to be, so Johnny wracks his brain for something profound he can impart to his son.

"When he loses his way, let him know you believe in him. When he has a dream, help him make it come true."

David looks astonished at his father and then nods shrewdly. Then, to Johnny's surprise, David hugs him tight. That's unusual. David almost never hugs anyone but Patrick, and sometimes Stevie. Occasionally Moira. Johnny holds onto his son gratefully.

"I love you, Dad." A bonus surprise, hearing that rare declaration! "Now I just have to fix my hair..."

"David."

"Okay, okay," he mumbles, patting it down quickly in the mirror.

Johnny beams as he ushers David out the door and towards the guests waiting under the tent. "Let's go get you married."