The apartment was silent when he opened the door, which he immediately assumed was a bad sign. It had been just over a month since they started living together (officially, anyway) and in that time he could count on one hand the number of times when the freshly furnished two-bedroom fell under the category of quiet, and absolutely none of them took place while she was home.

She had been so full of life lately. Always dancing around to some song on the radio as she did chores. Or humming along to another in her head while she cooked. Even when he came home to find her reading, there was always some chatty talk show on in the background, spewing out chaotic streams of a language he wasn't even able to pinpoint. It was a far cry from her previously calm and pensive nature ("Pensive?" She had chuckled when he pointed it out, "You used to think I was pensive?"), and he had teased her mercilessly for it (when he wasn't joining in for a clumsy step or a tone-deaf duet).

But now it was quiet and everything was still and he found himself frowning over more than just the twisted feeling in his gut. He'd fallen in love with her noise. Almost as much as he loved her.

His coat found it's hanger, and his gun found it's case before the slightest screech of a barstool on tile burst his small bubble of hope that maybe, just maybe, she had run to the store.

He found her in the kitchen, obviously, with her back to the doorway and her shoulders hunched as she maintained a ninja focus on the counter in front of her. She was still in her work clothes: a deep purple polo shirt paired with simple black spandex leggings. Her rise through the ranks from grunt worker to gym manager had been, like most things in her life, startlingly fast. One week she was cleaning toilets and wiping down sweaty equipment, and the next she was teaching krav maga courses 3 times a week and training to run the whole place (at least, that's how it seemed to Tony who, as everyone knows, hasn't gotten a promotion in over a decade). And while he hadn't really understood her move from federal agent to hourly gym rat, she really seemed to be enjoying herself. And he sure was enjoying her.

In the spirit of enjoying (and possibly in response to the weighted slant of her shoulders), he tugged playfully on the end of her ponytail as he walked by, rounding the island toward the fridge. He wasn't sure what this next conversation held, but he was sure a bottle of water wouldn't hurt.

If she was surprised by his entrance, she didn't show it. Some things never changed.

"You're home early."

He shrugged, turning back her direction and sliding a bottle her way, "Not really. Looks like you got home late."

She looked down as if just remembering her attire, "Yes. I, uh, covered Ariel's shift this afternoon."

Ariel. Co-Manager of the Washington Street Gym. Also incredibly pregnant.

"Makes sense. She's gotta be close to popping, right?"

The smile she cracked was small, and obviously suppressed, but he saw it anyway.

"If by 'popping' you mean giving birth, then yes. She is due any day now."

"Bet you're excited."

Ariel's baby shower last month had given Ziva a bad case of baby fever. She gushed over the little outfits and toys for days afterward, and it had taken every trick of redirection in his arsenal to keep them from having that conversation (though he already anticipated his own bought of baby fever the first time he sees her holding her newest friend's baby, so it was really all in vain).

However, none of that excitement made it's way into her reluctant shrug. Which led him back to the issue at hand. Silence. Tense posture. White envelope. White envelope?

"Whatcha got there?" he motioned toward the counter.

Her lips pressed into a line as she reached up to tighten her ponytail, a combination he had come to affectionately refer to as 'Ziva having a momentary freak out'.

Then she held the envelope out to him.

He took it carefully, squinting at the postmark.

Ohhhhh.

"It's your acceptance letter," He nodded.

To which she let out an exasperated sigh, "Or my rejection letter."

Ziva David, despite all her confidence and badassery, was dead convinced that no college would ever accept her. From the moment she expressed even a little interest in going back to school, he found himself facing an uphill battle just to get her to apply.

"You're a catch, Ziva. Any Admission's Officer worth his salt can see that."

She scrunched her face at him, clearly taking issue with his turn of phrase, but deciding not to question it.

"Have you seen these applications? They are ridiculous!"

The little line on her forehead deepened as she spoke, signaling it was time to change his approach. He turned down the heat on the stove, tossing his hand towel over his shoulder and turning to give her his full attention. Well, most of his attention.

"Hit me."

Her head snapped up from her laptop screen, confusion written all over it.

"Literally?"

He laughed, "No, Ziva. Not literally. I meant, tell me about the application. Maybe I can help."

"How could you possibly-" She cut herself off, recognizing the harsh tone of her voice and immediately correcting it, "I mean… what do you know about college applications?"

He scoffed, only half-joking, "I did go to college, you know."

"Yes, on an athletic scholarship."

"I still had to apply. And my application was amazing."

She let out her signature half-laugh, following it up by leaning her chin on her fist, eyes sparkling with amusement, "Of course it was."

"Oh, it was! I had everything: extracurriculars, volunteer hours, letters of rec. And don't even get me started on my personal statement," He traced a slow finger down his cheek, miming a tear.

The line deepened again as she allowed herself a tiny gulp, "I need all of that?"

"I mean, every little piece helps."

Then she groaned, slamming her computer shut and shoving the offensive device across the counter.

"Forget it! I will never get in."

"Hey, hey, hey," he retrieved the discarded piece of technology and opened it back up, "Let's not drop this on impulse, okay? Start from square one. What do your transcripts look like?"

And that was pretty much how they worked through the entire process: her stubborn insistence that she would never be accepted vs his unwavering faith that she was destined to go back to school. Her transcripts turned out to be outstanding, and Gibbs and Vance practically had a cat fight over who would be the first to submit their glittering letters of recommendation. Tony even arranged for the two of them to volunteer at the food pantry a few blocks down (though he admittedly had to bail on their first day due to work, and really only managed to make a couple of their scheduled time slots over the following months).

The whole thing was a lot of work, but it was all made worth it when just moments after hitting the all-intimidating 'submit' button, she practically jumped him where he stood.

"What was that for?" He asked between labored breaths, the electricity from her lips and her still wandering hands doing a real number on his already tired mind.

"For believing in me. And loving me. And helping me with my application despite all of my protests," She rolled onto her toes again, catching his lips for a shorter, less mind-numbing kiss, "And really just for being you."

"Shucks, sweetcheeks," He drawled dramatically as he twirled an especially perfect ringlet around his finger, "You don't have to thank me for any of that. It's my pleasure."

She kissed him again, slower.

"I knew you would say that."

"You know me pretty well."

Another kiss. She let it linger.

"I do. Which is why…"

This time, just a peck.

"I know exactly what I can do…"

Lingering again. Oh so close.

"To show my appreciation."

He practically swallowed her final words, abandoning the ringlet curl in favor of grabbing a whole mess of them, using them as leverage to pull her gently to him, and to keep her there. As she led him down the hall, far from the kitchen table they had been huddled around before, appreciated was certainly one of the many things he felt.

"Can you open it?"

Her voice snapped him out of what was admittedly an amazing memory. He blinked at her twice before her words actually registered.

"You don't wanna do it?"

Her ponytail swung emphatically with the shake of her head, "I can't look."

"Alright," He didn't miss her slight wince at the sound of the envelope being torn.

The print on the letter was ridiculously small. And after a long day of reviewing cold cases, his eyes were a little tired. So the dramatic brandishing of the paper, holding it up, then down, then farther from his face, and finally closer, was more out of necessity than his typical comedic effect. That didn't stop her from rolling her eyes at his display.

"Alright… what do we have here… Miss David," He cocked an eyebrow in her direction before continuing, "We appreciate your interest in attending American University in the fall. We know there are a lot of great institutions in the DC area, and we are thankful you considered us to be your educational home. We are especially thankful to your sexy cop boyfriend for buckling down and making sure you finished this application. You should really treat him to dinner some time."

"It doesn't say that."

"Well, it should," he smirked, eyes darting in her direction briefly, if only to make sure there were no punches or paperclips hurling at his face in retaliation, "We want to make it clear that we reviewed a record number of applicants this year, and were pleasantly surprised with the high quality of work submitted by our prospective students."

She drew in a quick breath, one that could easily be mistaken for a gasp, and immediately dropped her eyes to the countertop in front of her. He didn't blame her. This long-winded paragraph was starting to sound bad.

His eyes skimmed the page, searching…

A sigh of relief, "And we are excited to extend this invitation to join us on campus in the fall."

She didn't really react at first, just sorta stared at him. Blankly.

"I got in?" Her voice was so small, so quiet that he was surprised he heard it at all.

He turned the paper, holding it up for her to see, "You got in."

She took it gingerly, eyes flying across the page as she confirmed the information.

"I-I got in," She repeated.

He was behind her now, snaking his arms around her waist and pulling her against his chest, "I knew you would."

She was still for a moment, still reading and rereading the tiny script. But then she turned in his arms and her eyes did the thing - the soft, gentle, 'looking at the love of my life and everything that matters to me in the world' thing (at least, that's what he had come to dub it). Of all the new developments on the Ziva mannerisms front, the thing was by far his favorite.

"You did, didn't you?"

"From the very beginning," Her hands wrapped around his arms and her lips set in her proud little smirk… he had to remind himself he was mid-thought, "Honey, I got vision."

Maybe it was his characteristic use of a movie quote, or maybe it was just an extension of her continuing to do the thing for what might be the longest and most glorious run to date. Either way, she rolled onto her toes then and kissed him. Then tried to pull back, but then kissed him again.

"Thank you, Tony," She mumbled against his shoulder after reluctantly relegating herself there to refrain from more kissing, "For everything."

His arms snaked farther around her slight frame and he just held her impossibly close for a long, long moment before loosening his grip just a smidge.

"I'll admit. I had ulterior motives."

"Oh, yeah?" Her lips moved against the skin of his neck and he realized she had misinterpreted his 'motives'. And what a shame it was to correct her.

"Yeah. It's been a while since I dated a co-ed," The brush of her snorted laughter against the fabric of his shirt was enough of a reward, but she graciously pulled back to bless him with her amused smirk as well. All before the punchline: "And I'd really like to put that back on my resume."

She laughed heartily because of course she did. It was funny how funny she found him these days.

But then she did something horrible. Blasphemous, really. Just before his kiss, one he intended to keep quick and modest but still felt entitled to enjoy, she slipped beneath his arm and jogged the few steps necessary to disappear around the corner and down the hall.

"Wha-" He muttered when he palms found cold marble where her hips should have been, "Where are you going?"

"To change!" She called back, likely from their bedroom considering the echo.

"...into?" He spared another glance at the discarded letter before pivoting toward the fridge and slipping the page under a souvenir magnet bearing the words "Find me on Island Time" along with a shark wearing sunglasses and a t-shirt labeled TURKS & CAICOS. He smirked at the momento, remembering that shared vacation along with the all the others currently represented by cheesy magnets on their cheesy-magnet-fridge (His title, naturally.) They sure had crammed a lot of trips into their short year together as a couple (thank god for saved up vacation time). They had built quite a history.

A history in which she almost never took this long to answer his questions, which led him right back to her disappearing act just a minute before.

"Ziva?"

"Yes?"

Her voice was closer than he'd anticipated, causing him to step through the doorway leading to the living room only to find her standing in front of the mirror hung just beyond the entryway.

She'd changed, alright. Into a mid-thigh black dress with ruffled sleeves and a thin white belt situated on her waist. Her hair was also down now. Brushed over one shoulder and practically shining in the light of the floor to ceiling windows. Her current task seemed to be earrings as she tilted her head and fiddled with the dangly hoops.

"Wow," He muttered, finding a spot against the door frame for both support and physical grounding.

She shot him a wink over her shoulder before moving on to the next ear.

"We are going out."

"We are?"

Once the jewelry was secure and her cursory once-over in the mirror was done she stepped back and turned to face him, allowing for him to complete his once over. Yup. Still stunning.

"In light of our mutual victories today," She knelt down to fasten a pair of simple nude heels before crossing the living room to stand in front of him again, "I have decided to take my sexy cop boyfriend out to dinner."

She was fingering his tie at this point, as if considering it's appropriateness for their intended destination.

"A co-ed who can afford dinner?" He scoffed and reached for her waist, inching her just a little closer so he could rest his hand on her lower back, "You, Miss David, truly are the perfect woman."

His tie was dropped (evidently having passed its test) and she moved to stroke his jaw. Her eyes started doing the thing and then her lips started doing the other thing - curling into an almost-smile so soft and gentle he was almost positive she didn't know she was doing it - and he was so sure she was gonna kiss him again, just one more time to tide him over until after dinner when they can really celebrate their victories.

But then she smirked - an expression she definitely knew she was doing - and took a half step back.

"And don't forget it," She muttered before turning to retrieve her purse off the coffee table.

He wouldn't. That much he knew. Things had changed for them over the past year, and they were bound to change again, but through it all there was still one thing he never forgot: Ziva was his perfect woman. And he'd follow her, excessive noise, sweaty gym smell, hideous graduation caps and all, to the ends of the earth. Or to the bistro down the street.

Hey y'all.

Some of you have been telling me that you love the little one-shots. Which is great. I love them too.

So this is a one-shot... with the potential to turn into a small collection. I have a few other ideas for college-related shorts that I might add on to here in the future. No promises yet. But it might happen.

I just love the idea of Ziva going back to school and Tony being super supportive of it (maybe too supportive... hint hint for a possible future post).

Let me know if you guys liked this (Reviews are my lifeblood) and if you want to see more one-shots in this universe. Again: maybe or maybe not. But it's definitely more likely if you guys tell me you're interested.

This guy has just been sitting in my completed for a while so I thought I'd put it out on this lovely holiday week (Happy Thanksgiving to any of you fellow Americans).

So, yeah. Reviews are great. Please leave them.