A/N Please keep reviewing :)

The November air was cool on Aria's face, a relief to her flushed cheeks. The snowflakes were falling softly, the first snow of the season, coating everything in its path with powdery whiteness. Aria sighed and leaned back into the porch swing, rocking slowly, watching carefully. She shivered suddenly and put her gloved hands in her coat pockets. The sun was hidden behind gray clouds. The entire scene was picturesque. It was beautiful.

"What are you doing?" asked a voice, startling Aria out of her thoughts.

"Watching," she smiled, looking over the property line. "Come watch with me."

"In the cold?" asked Ezra skeptically, leaning on the fence, snowflakes clinging to his dark hair.

"Why not? It's beautiful."

After a moment's thought, Ezra opened a gate that allowed access between the two backyards, and walked the thirty steps up the porch to sit next to her.

"When did that happen?" asked Aria, gesturing to the gate.

Ezra shrugged, "While you guys were in Iceland. I thought it might be a good idea if anyone ever wanted to use the tree house again." He glanced over to where it stood as an ancient reminder of childhood. "You're right," he breathed, watching the snow. "It is beautiful."

"While we were in Iceland, I thought I had had my fill of ice and snow," admitted Aria. "But I guess it's different when it's your own home." She sighed happily. "It's like a Pieter Bruegel painting." Aria shifted in her seat, and rested her head on Ezra's shoulder. The pair sat in silence, rocking away together slowly, watching the scene unfold.

"Doesn't it make you curious?" asked Byron, looking out the window from inside his house. "About what's going on between them?"

"Why do you automatically assume there's something going on?" asked Ella from her spot next to him. She watched as her daughter and her daughter's very good friend watched the snow fall.

"Because he's a guy and she's a girl, and they are much too comfortable with each other."

"They've known each other for a very long time," replied Ella turning away from the scene and sitting on the sofa. "They've been friends for just as long."

"Do you not see the way she's resting her head on his shoulder?" asked Byron, panicking.

"Of course I do," said Ella, reaching for her book, "but that doesn't mean we should automatically jump to conclusions."

Byron sighed and joined his wife on the couch. "She's not a little girl anymore."

"She's not," agreed Ella looking down at the pages of her book. She turned the page deliberately.

"He's her teacher. Doesn't that bother you?"

Ella put the book down and looked hard at her husband. "He hasn't always been her teacher, and he won't always be." She lifted the book back up, seemingly engrossed.

"But the age difference," stuttered Byron in disbelief.

Ella lowered her book again. "Did you know that Elliot was twelve years older than Anne?" she asked her husband. She raised her book up again.

"But," sputtered Byron, "What do the Springers have to do with this?"

"Just because there's an age difference doesn't mean that it's wrong," replied Ella, not taking her eyes off the page.

"You're not worried?" asked Byron, anxiety building in his voice.

Ella shut the book closed with a snap and set on her lap. She turned to her husband. "I am a little bit," she told him honestly. "I always thought of Ezra as her brother, as a nephew or son to me. But that doesn't mean she sees him like that."

"She's seventeen," began Byron began.

"But she won't be seventeen forever," said Ella softly.

"But he's her teacher," protested Byron.

"But he won't always be her teacher." Byron was silent at his wife's statement, and Ella picked her book back up.

"What's it like?" asked Spencer as stood next to Aria's locker.

"What?" said Aria startled, she had been looking in the other direction. "I didn't know you were there, Spencer."

"I have been for the last three minutes," said Spencer pointedly. "What's it like?" she repeated.

Aria shut her locker with a thud and walked down the hallway. "What's what like?" she asked Spencer, who was following her.

"What's it like with him," said Spencer, pointing her chin in the direction of Mr. Fitz's classroom.

Aria stopped walking and turned to her friend. "Did Hanna tell you?" she hissed.

"Emily did, actually," said Spencer. "She knows a secret relationship with she sees one. Besides you were ignoring me and staring at him just a moment ago," finished Spencer dryly.

"Who else knows?" demanded Aria.

Spencer raised her hands up in a gesture of defense. "No one else, I swear."

Aria sighed in relief and continued walking, stopping only outside the door of Mr. Keegan's classroom. "We'll talk about it later, okay?" said Aria looking at the people around them.

"I'm holding you to that," said Spencer walking into the classroom.

Aria watched the first snow of the year melt and dissolve into nothingness. It gave her a slightly depressed feeling. "So," she began, turning away from the window. "Dinner and a movie?"

Ezra walked into his living room from the kitchen, and sat down on the sofa. Aria joined him, burrowing her head into the hallow space of his chest. "I thought maybe Hardy could join us tonight," he answered.

Aria sat up, "Hardy?" she asked.

"Yes," said Ezra. "He knows."

"How does he know?" demanded Aria.

"He noticed it from the first time you came over here."

"Does he approve?" asked Aria tentatively.

"He doesn't disapprove," returned Ezra carefully. He grabbed her hands and placed them in his lap. "I thought this might be a good way for someone to see us as a couple."

Aria sighed and leaned back into his sighed. "I guess you're right."

"It's a start," promised Ezra hopefully.

Aria was surprised by how pleasant the evening passed. Hardy kept his inappropriate comments to a minimum, and she enjoyed the evening. It felt good to hold Ezra's hand in front of someone else. And she didn't feel like she was doing anything wrong.

"Mom," called Aria, running down the stairs and to the front door. "I'm going over to Ezra's to help him with his Christmas decorations."

"Okay," called Ella from the kitchen. She had been expecting it. At yesterday's Thanksgiving dinner, Ezra had brought up all the decorating he wanted to do and Aria had volunteered to help him.

Ella heard the front door slam close and turned back to her coffee and book. "Where's Mike?" she asked Byron, who was sitting across from her at the kitchen table.

"He went to Gavin's house," replied Byron, taking a sip of coffee. He put his newspaper down loudly and Ella looked at him. "Doesn't it bother you," he began, "that she calls him Ezra?"

Ella sighed in exasperation. "She's called him Ezra since she was thirteen."

"Should she really be going over to her teacher's house?"

"We've been through this Byron," warned Ella. "He's a family friend, and we're not going to sit here and speculate what may or may not be going on over there."

"But shouldn't we," let out Byron, turning a peculiar shade of pink. "For all we know they could be having sex, unsafe sex. She could get pregnant or a disease or he could be pressuring her into something," he ranted.

"For all we know," returned Ella, "she could really be helping him put up his Christmas decorations."

"Help how?" demanded Byron. "She's five feet tall; she can't exactly reach the tallest Christmas tree branches."

"You're reading too much into it," said Ella matter-of-factly.

"Am I?" asked Byron. "Maybe I should have a talk with him."

"Byron," warned his wife.

"What?" he asked innocently.

Aria and Ezra had started to decorate his house, beginning with the artificial tree. They had hung the lights and started to put the ornaments on when other, more physical activities began to take up their time. They lay on the floor of the living room, Ezra's shirt unbuttoned, and Aria down to her undershirt. She rested her head on his outstretched arm and looked up at the tree.

"How did you get so many decorations?" she asked. "I don't remember you having this many."

"When you guys were gone, I got all of Grandma's things out of the attic, and then I had my mom's decorations shipped from California. I thought I would try to make everything as homey as possible."

"I can tell which ones are your mom's," said Aria. "They look so beautiful and expensive. Not exactly what Grandma would have picked out."

"Not at all," replied Ezra quietly.

"Look," said Aria, sitting up. "We broke an ornament."

"Not a big deal," said Ezra, following suite and beginning to button up his shirt. "I'll get something to clean it up."

"When did this start?" asked Emily, hugging her pillow close to her chest. They were all in Spencer's bedroom.

"I think, maybe," began Aria hesitantly, "that it's been going on for years and we never realized it. But the relationship thing, that started after I got back from Iceland."

"What's it like?" asked Hanna from her spot on the bed.

Aria shrugged. "I've known Ezra for ages. It's like when you know you're meant to be with someone."

"Have you told your parents?" said Spencer pointedly.

Aria shuddered. "No."

"Do you think they suspect?" questioned Emily.

"If they knew, we would all know," said Aria definitively.

"When are you going to tell them?" Hanna wanted to know.

"I hadn't thought about it," admitted Aria. "After graduation maybe. We'll see."

Christmas morning, thought Aria as she trudged down the stairs half-asleep, was like all other Christmas mornings. Gifts were exchanged, traditional (and tacky) holiday carols were sung, and she and Mike watched How the Grinch Stole Christmas together. When dinnertime rolled around, Aria helped her mother in the kitchen while Byron and Mike got the table set. And like he had been for the last several years, Ezra joined them for Christmas dinner.

Aria thought it was all going well. Ezra gave everyone their presents, and everyone gave him theirs. Aria received a beautiful oval-shaped locket she thought looked like it was made of solid gold. She gave him a picture she had taken of him one day when he hadn't been paying attention. They sat across from each other on the table, far enough apart that they weren't tempted to hold hands. Ezra talked to Mike about the upcoming Super Bowl, and Aria asked her father about the plans for the rest of Christmas break. After dinner, Aria volunteered to clean up and Ezra offered to help her.

They talked, relaxed conversation, as they picked up dishes and put them in the kitchen, when Mike said the last thing Aria wanted to hear. "Aria and Ezra are standing under the mistletoe," he called out mischievously.

Aria looked up to where she and Ezra had been standing under the doorway from the dining room into the kitchen arguing about who would do the dishes. She cringed and looked back down. He was right.

"Kiss," demanded Mike, taking pleasure in the awkward situation. Aria hated that his voice was loud enough to carry into the living room where her parents had been sitting. "On the lips," he specified, silently daring either Aria or Ezra to defy him.

"Mike, I don't really think that's necessary," began Byron, but he had spoken a moment too late. Ezra had shrugged and leaned into Aria, intending only to give her a peck on the lips. Aria's eyes widened when she saw his intention. She let him kiss her, but perhaps the moment had lasted a tad longer than it should have. Ella cleared her throat. They pulled apart.

"I think, I'm going to do the dishes now," said Aria breathlessly, startled at what had just happened. She recovered quickly and tousled her brother's hair. "You got exactly what you wanted Mike. Happy?" Mike shrugged in response, while Byron's mouth hung open in astonishment.

"I kissed her," said Ezra over the phone. The privacy of his own house ensured that no one would overhear his conversation. "In front of her parents."

"How could you be so stupid?" reprimanded Hardy, his volume rising.

"We were under the mistletoe," explained Ezra. "Mike insisted. I couldn't exactly not do it."

"So you did the stupidest thing you could probably do because a fifteen-year-old kid thought it was a good idea?" questioned Hardy, sarcasm dripping in his voice.

"It wasn't exactly the stupidest thing I could have done," mumbled Ezra.

"I don't know what her parents are going to hate you more for—having a relationship with one of your students or not telling them about the other thing."

Ezra peaked out of his living room window as he answered. "I hope it's the other thing."

"Dude, for your sake, I hope it's the other thing too," replied Hardy.

"Merry Christmas, Hardy," sighed Ezra.

"Merry Christmas, Ezra," said Hardy, hanging up his phone.

"Why did you do that?" demanded Aria, walking into her brother's room unannounced. "You know Ezra's my teacher."

"The mistletoe thing?" asked Mike innocently from his perch on his bed. "Isn't that what you're supposed to do when you stand under the mistletoe?"

"That doesn't mean you had to insist he kiss me on the lips," ground out Aria.

"Isn't that what you wanted?" asked Mike seriously, all traces of playfulness gone. He sat up.

"How long have you known?" said Aria quietly, going to sit next to him on the bed.

Mike was silent for a moment before continuing. "Let's just say you're not the only one who can see into Ezra's house from your window."

"Are you mad?" she asked, bracing herself for an answer. "He is my teacher."

He shook his head. "What you do is your business. And he's been Ezra longer than he's been Mr. Fitz."

"And the age thing?" she probed further.

"Okay, that was a little creepy when I first thought about it," admitted Mike. "But you grew up a lot last year in Iceland, and it's not that big of an age difference is it? If you were twenty and he was twenty-nine it wouldn't be such a big deal. And," he continued, "if it's not going to be a big deal in three years, then why should it matter now?"

Aria sighed in relief and smiled at her brother. "Thanks." She got up to leave but hesitated.

"Yes," encouraged Mike.

She turned to him. "What do you think Mom and Dad will say if they find out?"

"You mean when they find out," retorted Mike. He sighed. "Dad won't be happy because Ezra's your teacher."

"And Mom?"

"She won't be happy you kept such a big secret from her," Mike answered, "but I think she'll be okay with it in the end."

"Merry Christmas, Mike," called Aria as she left his room.

"Merry Christmas, Aria."

"Did you see that?" asked Byron, disbelief in his tone. He was standing in the doorway of the master bathroom as Ella brushed her teeth.

She spit out some toothpaste and rinsed her toothbrush before answering. "They were under the mistletoe, Byron," pointed out Ella, as she wiped her face with a towel. She flicked the lights off in the bathroom and walked passed her husband toward the bed.

"Did you not see that kiss?" asked Byron incredulously.

Ella pulled back the comforter of the bed and propped her pillows up, and her husband did the same. "The Aria who came back from Iceland is not the same one who went away," started Ella. "She so much older now, physically and emotionally."

"Are you talking about that Oskar kid?" asked Byron. "I never understood why Aria broke up with him.

Ella snorted. "Besides the fact that she moving back across an ocean," she replied sarcastically.

"I mean I thought they got along well together."

Ella got into bed and leaned against the headboard. "Things change, Byron. Aria's grown up a lot. For all we know she's not a virgin anymore. And I am not talking about Ezra," she added pointedly.

Bryon was flabbergasted. "Should I talk to her?"

"No. There are some things she should figure out on her own."

Byron joined his wife in bed. "That doesn't change the fact that he's her teacher."

"Do we have to worry about this now?" asked Ella in exasperation. "Can't we let things play out and see how they go?"

Byron sighed. "Do you really want Ezra Fitz as your son-in-law?"

Ella turned out the light and snuggled closer in bed. "Would that be such a bad thing?"

"I suppose it couldn't be the worst thing," admitted Byron into the darkness.

"Good night," said Ella definitively. "Merry Christmas, Byron."

"Merry Christmas, Ella."

December 26, 2011

Dad keeps staring at me with a funny look on his face. Like he's constipated. Or in pain. It seems like he wants to tell me something, but he keeps his mouth shut. He asked me about school today. And he brought up Oskar. Why on earth would he do that? The only answer must be that he suspects something, probably fueled by the little stunt Mike pulled yesterday with the mistletoe.

If Dad suspects something, then Mom does too. Except she isn't acting funny. I thought it would be reversed. Ezra is Mom's colleague. But maybe it's true what they do say about dads and daughters. A part of me thinks I should be worried. A part of me thinks there is nothing to worry about.