So. There's this crazy writer who promises at the end of her first piece that her next post should be one of her much more well-conceived, uber-dramatic ideas. But then she just gets this crazy idea, and writes out an extremely lame (not to mention super-cheesy) one-shot all about Ezria in an AU. So, promise not to hate her as she continues to slave over the much more well-conceived, uber-dramatic ideas that take her forever to write out because she's crazy like that. Enjoy, don't kill me, and happy holidays to all!
DISCLAIMER: Do you honestly think I could own PLL?! I can't tie my own shoes, I send Mona Vanderwaal to fetch me my coffee, and Marlene is the well-known deity that deserves to be worshipped. Plus, how could I meet those insane deadlines? 24 episodes per season is no joke.
The dulcet tones of a holiday CD hit Ezra's ears immediately after he came through the doors. Just as quickly, he felt the air that reeked of peppermint and cinnamon tickle his nose in time to warm up the previously frozen skin as Malcolm tugged his father's arm forward.
"Dad! We need to see Santa!" Malcolm snatched his maroon-colored cap off of his head in his haste, probably more anxious after drinking the hot chocolate Ezra had secretly slipped him during the car ride.
Ezra let out a laugh. "Malcolm, Santa will still be there when we find him."
"Promise?" Malcolm's big brown saucers all but annihilated Ezra.
"I swear on my..." Ezra looked around before reaching into his satchel. "I swear on my Christmas present, okay?"
Malcolm smirked at the sight of the unfortunate reindeer sweater that Maggie had given to Ezra only minutes before making their trip. He was all too familiar with how many times he had seen his mom agonizing over whether or not to incorporate green stitching into the homemade present. Or blue. Or white. Eventually she had decided on a red background with minuscule snowflakes emblazoned around Rudolph's slightly asymmetrical face.
"Okay," Malcolm relented. He reached for Ezra's hand. "But you should swear on something more signifiment next time."
"Something more signifiment?" Ezra smiled at the mispronunciation. "But what's more important than a Christmas gift from your mom?"
Malcolm thought for a moment. "Me!"
"That's right," Ezra confirmed.
The two stood attentively at the sound of the Hollis announcement bell.
"Attention all visitors," the announcement began, "this is a reminder that you have until four to visit Santa Claus in the library. Please enjoy your day at the Hollis Holiday Fair!"
Ezra peeked at his watch. It was almost three-thirty, meaning that he had to take Malcolm as soon as he could.
"Dad?"
Ezra blinked at his son and ran a hand through his hair. "Uh..." He suddenly had an idea. "Change of plans, buddy."
Without speaking, he scooped up Malcolm into his arms and repositioned the boy's arms around his neck.
"Whoosh!" Ezra extended his arms and made his regular assortment of airplane noises while Malcolm's peals of laughter reverberated through the college's halls.
"Faster, dad! We need to see Santa!"
Ezra made a sharp right towards the library. Abruptly, Malcolm playfully moved his hands over Ezra's eyes just as he had been navigating them through the most complex hallways.
"Oh, you want me to find Santa blindfolded, huh?" Ezra asked youthfully.
After a beat, Malcolm called, "Dad, look out!"
There was a feminine yelp, a shriek from Malcolm, and Ezra did his best to stay on his feet for Malcolm's sake.
With his adrenaline kicking in, Ezra clasped securely onto his son, but his heroic attempt was interrupted as Malcolm fell to the floor with a dramatic thud.
"Oh my God!" Ezra instinctively crouched to the ground to check on Malcolm, who was already crying and reaching for his chin. "Malcolm, are you okay?"
"No!" Malcolm sniffled.
"I'm so sorry! I was checking my phone... and I didn't mean to crash into you two!" Ezra turned to the speaker, a college-aged young woman who couldn't have been older than twenty-two. "But you know what they say: fresh manicures and tiny keyboards. A deadly combination."
Instantly Ezra was stunned at her beauty. Her large hazel orbs were framed between eyelashes delicately emphasized with mascara and snowflakes, which also tangled and rapidly melted into her perfectly mussed mahogany waves. The girl's round mouth was coated in a cheery shade of light pink that shone when she gave him the smallest of mournful smiles, and a pair of large feathers dangled off of her ears and shook ethereally when she moved even slightly. Even from a distance, he could inhale the balanced combination of spearmint and vanilla that enveloped her like a blanket.
If he could, he'd stay in that exact spot and admire her forever.
But what brought Ezra back to reality was the unmistakable crying from Malcolm's mouth that permeated his ears. "Malcolm, hold on to me," Ezra calmly insisted. "We're gonna get you to the nurse, buddy."
His son reluctantly accepted his father's open invitation into his arms and whimpered, "But what about Santa?"
"Santa's not going anywhere, Malcolm. Do you know how many boys and girls he has to see?" Ezra reasoned.
"Santa will still be there," the girl claimed from Malcolm's other side. She paused to massage her forehead before continuing, "I mean, I should know!"
Malcolm and Ezra reassessed her and realized that she was wearing what appeared to be an elf's uniform: a short green dress cinched tightly with a leather belt, opaque green tights embellished with a lacy pattern, and telltale pointed emerald shoes.
"I'm Aria Montgomery, helper number fifty-two from the North Pole," she recited enthusiastically. Something told Ezra that she wasn't a sullen part-time worker who slipped into the holiday cheer for pay. She was different, genuine. The gleam in her eyes, Ezra decided. It was the gleam in her eyes that told him this detail.
Malcolm eyed her skeptically. "Are you really from the North Pole?"
She nodded cheerfully. "Cross my bells and hope to die!" There it was again, that signature gleam.
In almost no time, she started to gravitate once more to the little boy, her bell-covered bracelet jingling lightly with each step.
"Tell me what's hurting you," she paused to recollect his name, "Malcolm."
"It's my chin." On cue, he started to pout while his eyes flooded with saline. In that minute, Ezra wanted nothing more than for his son to be at peace.
"Don't cry!" Aria pled sincerely. "All of the good little boys and girls like you don't want to see you cry!"
"Malcolm, take my hand," Ezra gently implored as he kneeled down. "The nurse is juuussst down this way, okay?"
Malcolm silently nodded, one hand clasping the opposite elbow burrowed under his new winter coat. With a smidge of assistance from both Aria and Ezra, the boy managed to come onto his feet, albeit shakily. Upon closer inspection, his father could clearly see the outline of a fairly deep scrape that had to hurt like mad. It was when Malcolm was securely attached to his father's side that Aria released his hand, making the boy turn in place.
"Can Aria come with us?"
"Malcolm, I'm sure that Santa needs all of his elves with him." As much as Ezra didn't want to make the trip alone, he refused to tear the girl away from what he knew could be a nice little source of income during the holidays. "It won't take us too long to get you patched up, and maybe you'll see Aria again before we go home."
"Actually—" Aria interrupted, "I'm sure that they can take care of a few kids."
Ezra smiled for some obscure reason that stubbornly refused to acknowledge itself.
"I mean, like you said, it won't take that long." She leaned in to whisper to Malcolm. "And Santa and I are like this." She twisted all ten of her fingers around each other into a clumsy display, making Malcolm howl with amusement.
"So you'll come with us?" Ezra inquired.
"Do I have to swear on my bells again?" Aria smirked wickedly. No sooner had she confirmed this, when Malcolm began to drag her towards the nurse's office with Ezra coyly following behind the pair.
Every minute or so he caught wind of that magical gleam again when she affixed her eyes to his own during the journey. Unfailingly she'd allow a light blush to pigment the apples of her cheeks, turn the corners of her mouth up, and avert her eyes back to Malcolm once more. Also unfailing was Ezra's response: a returned smile that he knew looked much too goofy, a glance at the hardwood floors, and a chuckle. The last time he had been so self-conscious was when he had first met Maggie.
Maggie. What would she think of Aria?
That was perhaps the stupidest question that crossed Ezra's mind all day. Of course Maggie would like Aria under any other circumstances. Maggie's top priority had always been Malcolm, from the first day she had recognized his existence back in high school. Why wouldn't she like the friendly elf that helped her son? But Ezra wasn't blind to how Maggie would feel about Aria under these circumstances. Under the circumstances that swirled around in Ezra's head. Like her smile. Or her voice. Or her eyes.
Way to sound like a stalker, Ezra thought to himself. What? Fifteen minutes with a total stranger gives you the right to think about her like that? Moron. Idiot. Ass.
"We're here!" Malcolm shook Ezra from his masochistic musings when the trio arrived at the nurse's office.
The motley crew slipped in through the glass-paned door to find a Santa hat poke up from behind a desk. On closer inspection, the hat was perched onto a middle-aged brunette wearing the smallest of name tags, as if even she didn't have the patience for formalities like proper names anymore. The nurse spotted Malcolm instantaneously and wordlessly took him from Ezra's side with an intimidating smile.
"Hello. And what do we have here?" She affixed her fingers by Malcolm's neck and tilted his head up to observe his injury closely. "A scrape. Anything you'd like to say, Dad?"
Ezra realized that he had been absentmindedly staring at a distracted Aria again and jumped at the nurse's harsh addressing.
"Uh, we just had a little run-in. In the hallways." Ezra shrugged. "Christmas."
"I understand." The nurse pulled up a clipboard to read off of. "Already I've seen three bruises, a swollen toe, two migraines, and a chipped front tooth." She clucked. "Christmastime can be very colorful; that's why I converted to Judaism."
"Shalom!" It was the first thing Aria had allowed to escape from her mouth in the woman's presence, and she was quickly met with beady eyes and pursed lips. Ezra bit his lip to keep from laughing at the nurse's reaction. "Sorry," Aria murmured apologetically.
"Don't be ridiculous, dear. You have nothing to apologize for," she sardonically retorted. "Only mishandling the language of the Jewish people."
Malcolm fought a snicker, even though Ezra was certain that he couldn't understand a quarter of what was happening in front of him.
"Well, dearie, let's take you to get patched up." Malcolm followed the nurse after sending his father a fleetingly unsure glance. The woman shut the door behind him, but was unaware of the faint "Irresponsible. so close to Christmas, too!" that leaked through the crack between the heavy wood and polished linoleum floor and passed to Ezra and Aria's ears.
It only took a moment for the two's eyes to meet, identically pearly white grins to shine across their faces, and for Aria and Ezra to quietly snicker and fail wholeheartedly at their attempts to rein in their amusement. The laughter continued to crescendo until the pair started subconsciously praying that the nurse was absorbed in her work and distant enough from them to stay blissfully unaware of their hijinks at her expense.
As the laughter faded away into the antiseptic-odored air, their eyes stayed frozen under the gaze of each other's. Closer than before, Ezra could now make out the crystal-clear veins of browns, greens, and golds held near the heart of her pupil. The pattern was beyond entrancing, the colors weaving together to come together as if knitted like a sweater.
A sweater. Like one from Maggie.
Crap.
He gawkily broke their connection by running a hand through his hair, averting his eyes to the floor rules, and clearing his throat. But as fate would have it, the throat-clearing turned into a slight cough courtesy of the holiday season and too much time spent in the vicinity of Malcolm's classmates and their contagious symptoms.
So his cough turned into a choke, heavy-handed enough to knock the wind from his vulnerable lungs and force tears to his eyes. Ezra extended his arms to grasp for his satchel, clawing maniacally for some sort of reprieve. The satchel refused to cooperate and only offered up a handful of peppermints, three essays he had yet to grade, an empty leather wallet half-covered by a photo of a smiling Malcolm and Maggie, and a copy of Ulysses that he had almost given up on trying to finish.
covered bracelet that clutched a bottle of mineral water. Aria seemed to have found the drink during his escapade and was offering it to him silently. Without speaking, he quickly (but not brashly) took it from her and downed nearly three-quarters of the drink in short, shallow gulps. When he had swallowed to his heart's content, Ezra pulled away the bright blue bottle to gingerly wipe the streak of water that somehow landed an inch away from his now-moistened mouth.
"Care to save some for the fish?" Her shoes slid gracefully across the linoleum as she recovered the bottle from Ezra's hands.
Neither anticipated the magic that happened when her thumb and his index finger brushed together. It sent a mellow spark through their ligaments, and the reaction was only shattered when she recoiled after retrieving the bottle.
"Um..." Ezra almost blushed harder than she did.
Aria blinked her massive eyes before maneuvering herself back to her purse. "I think I have some cough drops or something in here." She peered at Ezra sympathetically. "Just in case of emergency."
He shuffled awkwardly before realizing that he might help the girl. "Here. Let me try to-" Ezra bent closer to the animal-print bag, leaning in intimately to assist Aria.
She waved him away. "No! That's fine, I just need to-" On cue the contents of the purse spilled out onto the floor. Makeup, money, and a phone tumbled in a makeshift acrobatic spectacle unevenly from Aria's green-clad feet to the legs of the nurse's chairs. Without thinking, Ezra reached towards the nearest knickknacks he could find, scooping up two tubes of pink powder and a pack of bobby pins.
"I am so sorry!" Aria sputtered. "Usually I have my act together, but my roommate probably tore through my bag for an eyelash curler. Hurricane Hanna strikes again!"
The apologetic laugh she used still sounded like bells to Ezra's ears. He imagined for a fleeting moment what it would be like to attend a wedding where Aria's voice rang out after the service, or to keep track of the hour on his way home from work by listening in the town square for Aria to laugh five times. He brushed away the thought an resumed the task at hand.
"It's no problem. You've got a Hurricane Hanna, but you haven't lived in terror until your son comes in for Take Your Child to Work Day!" He fell to his knees to reach under the mahogany-colored desk. Ezra continued, "My office was covered in feathers from a pillow fight, a photo was shattered during my conference... but he made me a very nice picture of what appeared to be an enthusiastic dinosaur wearing a sombrero riding a taco like a horse." He impishly grinned at Aria. "I found out much later that it was his mother with a haircut."
At the revelation, Aria laughed with an impressive gusto that inspired Ezra to chortle, too. They were rendered helplessly unmovable as they seemed to compete to see who'd be the most amused. After both ran out of oxygen maybe three times total, they stopped, content to smile at what they had heard.
Aria broke the happy silence. "So... is Malcolm's mom here, too?"
"No. No, she's..." Ezra furrowed his brows, wondering why he felt the need to elaborate. "Maggie's at her apartment and she let me see him for the day."
"So you two don't... see each other?" Her eyelids flicked down to conceal her pupils as she did the math. "And when you had Malcolm-"
"I was a teenaged father," Ezra sighed. "Maggie and I were... reckless, and we did care about each other. We both love Malcolm, but we aren't... together."
He wanted to cry at her slightly disappointed face. The truth had to inevitably leak out, and if not in a conversation, then maybe much later if she stopped to consider Malcolm and his father later that day. But Ezra felt a pang of grief over this discovery; another person that would make the typical assumptions. In the handful of years he had spent with Malcolm no amount of time could dull the ache in Ezra's chest when he could hear the whispers of nosy neighbors or read the judgment in the eyes of his acquaintances. "An irresponsible schlub," they seemed to shout. Aria was a potential acquaintance mere seconds ago. Now, the probability of that happening was wearing thin.
Still ashamed, Ezra began to turn to the hardwood bench for a seat when he heard that distinct tinkling of jingle bells. In the next second, her warm hand was on his shoulder.
"I think that's... really special. That you two chose to raise a kid at that age, and that you didn't have to force yourselves together."
She sat beside him with the grace of a fairy monarch. Maybe she really was a long-lost character from a Shakespearean play. "My parents weren't that smart."
"What do you mean?" He stared at her glum expression while she needled her thumbs together.
"They had me in college. While he was cheating on her." She sniffled, but Ezra couldn't tell if it came from an emotional place or some wintertime sickness. "And when she found out, they tried to make it work."
"Did it?" He smacked himself in the head. "I'm sorry, I've got all the restraint of a fourth grader."
She chuckled breezily. "No, it's fine. They had a few rough patches, then my brother, then a divorce when I was in high school," Aria summarized matter-of-factly. "I'd like to think that I didn't turn out too bad."
"From what I can tell, they did just fine." He resorted to that ago-old habit of averting his eyes, missing out on the touched expression that came over her. "Uh... is that yours?"
She reluctantly followed his gaze to a leather-bound mass splayed out roomily between two tiles. Absent-mindedly, Aria scooped it up.
"Yeah, thanks." She proudly displayed what Ezra could now make out to be an e-reader. "It would be a shame to lose what's been my Christmas gift for all of eight hours."
He paused at the winning combination of her sarcastic eye roll and the genuine flashing of her pearly white teeth. For yet another moment, Ezra's breath was taken away by this girl's existence.
"I could only imagine." He cleared his throat carefully. "So, have you picked what mystifyingly interesting novel to start on?"
"I'm torn. To Kill a Mockingbird? Or Gatsby?" she asked. "I figured, why not pick one of my high school favorites? The problem is choosing the real Great American Novel."
"As a teacher, I can vouch that choosing between those two is blasphemy!" Ezra protested in a pseudo-authoritative voice.
Aria arched one strong eyebrow at his response. "Well then, O Great Purveyor of Pronouns, if I held a gun to your head?"
Ezra bit the inside of his cheek thoughtfully. "Let's see... Corruption of the American Dream versus the Loss of Innocence."
"That's really what pops into your head?" She leaned into him gleefully, her bracelet jingling as she did so. "Lesson plans? You've got to get your head out of your as-"
At that moment, Malcolm stepped out with the nurse, a bandage masking his injury with beige fabric.
"Y-your... your assemblies," Aria guiltily finished.
Ezra held back a roar when Malcolm moved to sit on the bench, his lips almost imperceptibly downturned. The nurse tsk-tsked before turning and walking stiffly back to the glass-paned door. Her figure had already disappeared by the time that Ezra had considered asking if he had to fill out any papers or offer her any payment for her services.
Aria reached for Ezra's hand. "Let her go." She turned to Malcolm and slipped back into her elfin mode. "We don't need another Scrooge for the holidays." She winked at Ezra's son, whose bad mood disappeared under Aria's influence.
Malcolm quickly turned to matters of more importance. "Dad, we need to see Santa!"
Ezra looked at his watch again, duly noting the face's reading that Santa's visit had supposedly ended in only two minutes ago. He went to Malcolm's side with a sad look of panic, but the boy was in no mood for numbers when he grabbed both Ezra and Aria's hands and pulled them into the hallways.
This time around, the group was able to find Santa without pause.
Unluckily, one of Aria's fellow elves had already turned a stand to prominently display a scarlet-colored 'NOW CLOSED' board of horror. There were no more children surrounding the holiday icon with lists in their hands or antsy parents that wanted to leave to find the perfect roast recipe. Instead, Ezra, Aria, and Malcolm were met with elves shutting the entrance doors on the opposite side and one red-clad man in a white beard retreating from his throne.
Aria jumped into the air when she felt a hand deliberately pressed onto her shoulder.
"There you are!" Ezra and Malcolm turned to the voice, an exotic-looking young woman wearing an outfit identical to Aria's, minus the lack of jewelry. "Spencer and I were driving ourselves insane trying to cover for you, and don't get me started on how pis-" seeing Malcolm, she paused. "How UPSET Noel was. You're lucky we roped Paige into this."
"Slow down, Em," Aria enunciated. "You got Paige here?"
"Pointy shoes and all." 'Em' nodded slowly with the hint of a smile on her face. "It took a village to convince her, not to mention a box of coconut cupcakes, and-"
"Actually, Em?" Aria interrupted her to gesture to Malcolm. "Malcolm really wants to see Santa, and I know that we're a few minutes behind the other kids, but could you maybe..." she trailed off as Emily pursed her lips and stared at Malcolm.
"I'm not the one in charge. But for you? I bet he'll make an exception." She crouched down to Malcolm. "Aria is very important in the North Pole, you know."
"Just give me a minute," Aria promised to Malcolm with her eyes sparkling in the room's artificially bright light. "Santa would love to meet you, and I'll be right back."
Without another word, she eagerly made her way to the Santa that Hollis had found, and was returning to her friends after only a minute's worth of talking. The Santa was woefully young-looking to Ezra, but he supposed that someone Malcolm's age couldn't tell the difference. 'Santa's' powdery beard and ginormous hat tried to conceal obviously smooth skin and dark hair, but a set of glinting blue eyes stuck out on his face like a sore thumb.
"Merry Christmas, little boy! And what's your name?"
"M-m-m..." Malcolm stopped stuttering in reverence of his idol to collect himself before spitting out what he was supposed to say. "Malcolm, Santa."
"Malcolm-Santa? Now that's not a name you hear every day!" Santa winked while Malcolm and Aria giggled in unison before taking Malcolm by the arm. "Alright then, Malcolm, let's leave the adults for a minute while you tell me what you want for Christmas."
When the duo was gone, Aria promptly returned to the others she had at her side. "Emily, meet Ezra. Ezra, Em." They shook hands before Aria could resume her short talk with Emily. "Was Spencer flipping out on me? You didn't give her coffee, right?"
"Are you crazy?" Emily retorted. "She must have snorted some espresso beans before she came here. I'd advise you to hold off on seeing her for a day or two." She snapped out of her stance at the sound of a holiday song coming from her purse. "That's probably Paige, waiting for her true love in subzero temperatures. With that, Aria, Ezra-" she gave them an exaggerated curtsy, "duty calls. Have a great Christmas!"
Emily had just gotten to the door when Malcolm came back to his father with enthusiasm spread all over his face.
"Dad! Santa says that he'll bring me everything on my list! Isn't that great?!"
Ezra unsurely beamed at his son. "That's great, buddy. Didn't Aria promise that you'd see him?" Malcolm nodded fervently. "Now, maybe you should say thank-you to Aria before we go?"
"Thank you, Aria!" He charged at the petite elf for a hug, and Aria willingly complied. Upon being released, Malcolm took a big breath. "Next Christmas, I want you to visit us with Santa!"
"I'll try my best, Malcolm." She gave Malcolm a side-smile before the boy went out the doors and started on his way to Ezra's car.
Ezra himself was still standing by Aria, holding out and waiting to spit out what came to his head.
"You were... really great. Malcolm was so happy, and he wanted to see Santa before I screwed it all up, but you swooped in and saved the day." Ezra ran his hand through his curls once more. "It was... magical, really, how-"
"Hey, babe." The Santa ripped away his beard and hat to reveal the entirety of the student's attractive face. "I was so worried when you didn't show up, you had no idea."
Without another word, Santa leaned in expectantly as Aria rose on her toes to meet him halfway for a heady kiss. They broke apart when Ezra tried to mask his transparent hurt.
"Oh, I'm sorry." Aria smiled genuinely, albeit slightly embarrassed to be caught in such a public display of affection. "Ezra, this is Noel. Part-time Santa Claus, full-time boyfriend."
"It's nice to meet you, Ezra. Hey, was that kid your son or something? He was really excited," Noel emphasized.
Ezra swallowed back his emotions. "Yeah. Malcolm is... special like that."
"Oh, I think everyone could tell." Noel checked his phone. "Uh, we should go, Aria. That party at Mona's starts sooner than we thought."
"Um... yeah." Aria glanced up at Ezra. "It was really nice to meet you. Stop by next year?"
Ezra didn't have to think. "I wouldn't miss it."
Aria and Noel waved cheerfully before stepping out, leaving Ezra to himself in an otherwise life-devoid room. He shut his eyes tightly, mourning for perhaps the stupidest reason he could imagine, and sighed before heading out to rejoin Malcolm.
"Dad?"
"Yeah, buddy?" Ezra asked. Did Malcolm want hot chocolate or a detour to the toy store to look for more gifts?
"I like Aria. She's nice. And pretty. And that other elf said she was signifiment to Santa."
Ezra chuckled with a twinge of coldness. "She must be important to everyone, I guess."
"To you, too?"
Ezra cursed his son's curiosity. "No. I don't think she's supposed to be important to me."
"Maybe she could be."
"Maybe."
Unfortunately, I'm not terribly pleased with my own ending. I know that means that none of you should be, either. And forgive my compulsion to include Malcolm (or mAlcolm, if my working theory is still correct). It was the easiest way to get Aria in an elf costume. So, review, favorite, ask me for a PM-ed reply to your words of encouragement or critiques. I'll comply, I promise. And look out, because I've got quite a few super-dramatic fics in the works. I just can't promise that I'll finish them in a flash of glory, so wait it out because they'll turn out much better than this one. I swear.