Christmas in the Sand

A/N: I don't own NCIS; I do own Terry Gibbs.

A/N: I know that it's officially december 26, but I hope you like it.

Summary: Terry reflects on the Christmas season while on deployment in Iraq. Pre-NCIS

000

The room was dirty; roach infested and stank of urine. But first sergeant Terry Gibbs, of Delta Force, remembered the mantra he'd used since his first day as a Green Beret, three years before. I've done worse. He went back to the scope and watched the same scene he'd been staring at for the past twelve hours. He heard noise behind him and turned, drawing his .45 as he did so. But just as quickly, he lowered the weapon. He'd know Todd Brooks and Harvey Mitchell anywhere.

"Gentlemen, how's life?"

"Good; Dinner was decent for once." Mitchell said.

Terry checked the date on his watch. December 24. He'd forgotten; as he'd tried to do every year since he was fifteen.

"Good." Terry said, collecting his rifle.

"The target?"

" T'was the night before Christmas and not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse." Terry said with a grin.

Mitchell grinned as well. "Cute. See ya later."

"Later. Stay frosty." Terry said and left the hideout.

Thirty minutes later, after taking a circuitous route through the city, Terry arrived at forward operations base foxtrot, on the outskirts of Fallujah. After grabbing some chow and checking his weapons, Terry went to his bunk. He noticed a picture on the wall, more than twelve years old now. It was of himself and a young girl, maybe six or seven at the time.

And that's when it hit him. Because the child wasn't just anyone to him. She had been someone special and she was the reason he was in the sand box. He sat on his bunk and wept quietly, as memories flooded his mind unbidden. Finally, he regained his composure, closed his eyes and tried to sleep. But not before sending a silent prayer heavenward for his sister.

Merry Christmas, Kelly. I love you…and I'm sorry.