AN: So here we have it...the final chapter. I'm sorry, first and foremost, that it took me so long to getting around to writing and posting this conclusion to NMA. I had this whole plan for how it was going to unfold, covering nine months - not of Aria's pregnancy, but of the time that unfolded after they found out she was pregnant. Obviously that didn't exactly work itself out. I felt like the show changed, the fandom changed, and I guess I sort of drifted from the characters in a way that made it hard for me to find my way back.

Either way, for you, the readers, I forced myself to give you an ending. Because unfinished fics are the WORST. I know. I have both read them and written them. Anyway. It's not long, but please, for the final time...enjoy.

There was a knock on the door. Aria let out a deep breath and pulled at the belt loops on her pants. She'd lost a lot of the baby weight, but things still didn't fit like they used to. She imagined they never really would…and that was okay.

"Ezra, they're here," she called up the stairs. She heard his feet as they made their way across the floor overhead and the tight close of a door before she saw his head peek over the landing.

"Everyone?" He was talking to her, but his attention was focused behind her as he craned his neck to try and see out the window.

She tilted her head in exasperation. "Yes, everyone arrived at exactly the same time." She rolled her eyes good-naturedly and walked out of his line of vision so that she could get the door.

"Don't give me that attitude," he whispered.

"Well, obviously not everyone showed up at once," she hissed back.

She wasn't really upset; just stressed. She'd put a lot of work into cleaning and getting their home ready for today and, even though she hadn't once expressed it to him, so she couldn't really hold anything against him, those underlying domestic irritations were at play. Would it have killed him to clean a bathroom?

Some things never changed. She should have known from the very first moment she walked through the door of his little studio apartment, its floors scattered with dirty clothes and scrap paper…he was a man, and a messy one at that.

She was glad he didn't continue debating semantics, but instead turned and headed back down the hallway, leaving Aria to tend to the door and the visitors who had arrived. She glanced once in the mirror beside the door before reaching out and pulling the handle, letting the oak door swing wide open.

"I need to know your secret," Spencer said the second Aria opened the door.

Aria felt her face relax as a smile spread its way across her lips.

"I'm serious." Spencer walked forward, her arms out stretched, pulling the small brunette into a hug. "I still can't believe you're really living in this house," she breathed into Aria's hair. Hardy gave Aria a sorry look over Spencer's shoulder.

"Good to see you too, Spence," Aria said, releasing her.

"It's just so much bigger than the first place you had when you guys moved here."

"I don't think she means it the way it came across," Hardy reasoned. He followed his girlfriend through the doorway and gave Aria's shoulders a squeeze after closing the door. "Really anything would be a huge improvement from the last place, though. Am I right?"

"Considering the last place had a bug problem," Aria started, giving them both an irritated but knowing glance, "I'd certainly hope it's an improvement."

A timer went off from somewhere deeper in the house and Aria excused herself to take something out of the oven—or maybe it was to put something into the oven—she'd mumbled in her rush to turn the obnoxious sound off.

Hardy joined Spencer where she was off to the side of the entryway, removing her coat and hanging it on a post beside a small bench. They took a few moments to look a the pictures that hung on the wall, leading from the door down into what appeared to be a living room, or maybe a den.

"It's really beautiful, Aria," Spencer called. "You're right when you say it's small on the outside but big on the inside. That's hard to find in this area."

"And that," Aria said, poking her head out of what was now clearly the kitchen, a freshly baked loaf of chocolate bread steaming between two oven mitts, "is why you never send a man to do a woman's job,"

Spencer helped herself into the living room, pulling Hardy behind her. "Seriously. It's unbelievable. It's got to be everything you've ever dreamed of. Is Ezra happy with it?"

Aria joined them and began absently picking up the last few toys from where they sat, forgotten on the floor.

"His only complaint is that we're a little removed from the city. And the mortgage is significantly more than we anticipated. But…" She leaned forward so that her line of vision was able to angle down the hall, wanting to ensure she wouldn't be overheard. She lowered her voice, "I don't think he really cares that much. He just likes to make out like it bothers him."

"I bet Rosie loves having a backyard," Hardy said as he gazed out one of the windows.

"More than you could imagine," Aria said. She let out a little sigh. "She's only just turning one and already, I'm convinced she'd rather spend all day outside. I'm telling you what—" She held up her thumb and pointer finger, leaving a fraction of empty space visible. "If she keeps it up as she gets older, I'll be like, this close to sending her to spend a week with Emily. I like the outdoors, but I'm not really the 'outdoorsy' type, if you know what I mean."

"You don't say," Spencer said sarcastically. "Speaking of the devil, where is our little birthday girl?"

Before Aria could say anything, Ezra came bounding down the staircase, a half-asleep Rosie in tow.

"Look who it is, Posey," Ezra said, leaning his head into to his daughter's ear as they entered the room. "It's Aunt Spence and Uncle Hardy."

"Oh m god," Spencer said, stealing Rosie away the second she could. She pulled the little girl into a bear hug and buried her face in her neck, blowing light raspberries in her soft skin until a light melody of laughter filled the room. "How is my favorite little peanut already one year old?"

Ezra wandered off to talk to Hardy, gesturing wildly to the backyard behind the house and Aria took a seat on the couch, Spencer dipping to the floor and taking out the same toys Aria had just picked up.

"She is your spitting image, Aria."

Aria looked at her daughter fondly. Every day she looked more and more like a miniature version of herself, but as she watched her playing now, she could see those specks of Ezra coming through. She had his eyes, his chin. She thought she could see a shared dimple in her right cheek.

"You know you're going to have your hands full, right?" Spencer said, joking.

"Oh, I know. If she's anything like me, I'll turn grey before she's thirteen."

Spencer looked behind her shoulder to where the guys were standing. "Yeah," she said. "She's not the only one I'm talking about." It brought a laugh from both of them. "How's it been? First year being married, first year raising a baby…first year living in a new city. That's a lot to take in."

"It is," Aria said, her face contemplative. "But it's great. I don't know if you could tell…" Her mouth dipped down at the edges, showing her teeth in an unnatural way. "I wasn't exactly prepared for any of it. It was quite an adjustment. But I don't think I could ask for anything more than this."

Over the next hour, the rest of their friends and family piled into their home and for the first time, possibly since Rosie was born, Aria and Ezra had all their favorite people in one place; without any quarrels or spats. It was refreshing, but at the same time, it seemed to promise: take advantage now—it won't last long.

The afternoon flew by. Aria was swept up with an unsettling mixture of happiness and sadness as she watched her daughter interact with everyone there. She was standing in the kitchen, her back against the counter and a lighter in her hand. There was a small chocolate cake sitting on the stove across from her, a little candle sticking out the middle that spelled ONE in big, pink letters.

Ezra walked dipped his head around the corner and took in the expression on her face.

"Hey," he said. "What's wrong?" He pulled himself in further, checking behind him to make sure no one followed. The chatter of the crowd in the other room was quieter once he had a wall separating. He came forward and pulled Aria to him. "Hey," he said again.

"How has it already been a year?" she said mournfully, planting her face in his chest and taking a deep, steadying breath. She did her best to keep herself from crying.

Ezra didn't know what to say aside from, "I love you," so he left it at that, letting his hand make its way over her hair for a few seconds as she composed herself. He planted a kiss on the crown of her head and pulled her back a fraction of an inch, sweeping his thumbs under her eyes, warding away any stray tears that had managed to fight their way out. "You ready?"

"Yeah," she said, reluctant. She turned and lit the candle on the cake. "Let's go regret this chocolate icing."

Ezra chuckled—she had a point. It would most certainly be a bigger mess than either of them could adequately anticipate. As he watched Aria lift the cake and lead the way out of the kitchen, he took a moment to appreciate her from behind, from the curve of her dark hair as it hit her shoulders to the way her right elbow jutted out at a slight angle, making her somehow look even smaller than she was.

In that moment, as he watched the mother of his child carry the smallest birthday cake he'd ever seen to a wide-eyed, mirth-filled toddler, he knew one thing with absolute clarity: he'd do it all over again in a heartbeat.

There wasn't a thing—not a thing in the world—that he'd imagine doing differently. This was more than he could ever ask for, and he knew it was more than he ever deserved.

AN: Thanks for taking the time to humor this trivial piece of fanfiction. I have so enjoyed writing it for you and reading all your comments. Until next time.

btf