They were once again walking the streets of Amsterdam. The clouds were a grey, but the sun was trying to break through. The weather seemed to represend the mixed feeling Ziva and he were having. Of course they were happy that Sarah would have a new home where she could grow up to be a beautiful young woman, but that also meant they had to say goodbye...
This morning they had bathed Sarah for the last time (this time it went a lot better, Ziva did it without having water cover the entire floor) and they put her in a light blue romper. Ziva was wearing her usual cargopants again, sarcastically laughing when he asked her why she wouldn't wear her skinny jeans one more time. They had gone downstairs, where a small surprise was waiting for Ziva: he had an entire breakfast ready for the three of them. They had had French toast with all kinds of fresh fruit and Sarah had had applesauce. Then they got the stroller and walked out of the hotel.
And here they were, getting closer and closer to their destination. They were only one street away. He looked at Ziva, who was pushing the stroller. She was nervously looking around her, probably for suspicious activity and smiling when she noticed Sarah pointing at birds. He shook his head, smiling. Ziva would be the kind of mother that wouls stay protective of her child when they've moved out years ago and she would teach them every trick she ever learned at Mossad, just so she could sleep at night. And their little encounter with Carmen probably had made it worse. Maybe that was a good thing. He then smirked, realising that she would make a great mother, some day.
It was time. They stood still in front of the door. He looked at Ziva, who was looking back at him, and then he looked at Sarah, who was staring at the door. He nodded, feeling ready, and Ziva rang the doorbell. They heard footsteps approaching the door and a voice shouted from inside: 'Wacht! Wait! I'm coming!'
Then the door swung open.