Author's Notes: To follow.
Welcome to the Jungle
by Kristen Elizabeth
"Should you be in here?"
Sara's head jerked up at the sound of his voice. She wasn't sure when she'd become accustomed to hearing it again. Four weeks had felt more like four years.
She glanced around the office that had so briefly belonged to Mike Keppler. It was almost as bare as it had been the day he'd gone searching for it, and found Grissom's instead. He hadn't added any life to it. No personal items, no awards, no pictures. There was nothing left to remember him by.
"Probably not," she answered Grissom's question. "How's Catherine?"
"I don't know. I sent her home." He leaned against the doorframe, his hands in his pants pockets. "Did she and Keppler…?" He let the question dangle in mid-air.
Sara shook her head. "I don't think so. But maybe she wanted to." Sara walked around Keppler's desk. "She wouldn't have been the only one."
When she glanced up, he was watching her very closely. "How well did you get to know him?" he asked almost too softly.
"We talked a few times," Sara replied non-chalantly.
He was worried; she could tell from the way he shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "What about?"
With a small sigh, she sat on the edge of the desk. "I don't know, Grissom. Things. Cases. Philadelphia." She paused. "You." At his puzzled look, she elaborated, "He found your office fascinating."
"He was in my office?"
Sara nodded, her eyes unconsciously fixed on a spot on the floor. "He had a dark sense of humor. You probably would have appreciated it." She blinked and glanced up. "I don't know everything about what he did, but whatever it was, he would have had his reasons. Good ones. He might have had his own way of arriving at it, but he believed in justice."
Grissom tilted his head to one side ever so slightly. "You gathered all of that from talking to him a few times?"
She stared at him for a second before letting out a short, harsh chuckle. "You are unbelievable, you know that?" She slid off the desk. "If you don't mind, I'd like to be alone right now."
He came up behind her so quickly that she didn't have time to escape. There was no excuse to avoid him anymore. He was so close that she could smell his aftershave, that wonderful spicy sent she'd missed so much.
"I'm sorry," he murmured. His breath whispered through the hairs on the back of her neck. Her whole body felt taut with both anger and desire. "Honey…"
Sara turned around, putting them face to face. "He wasn't a bad guy. He…" She bit her lip to hold back a smile. "He got laid in a butterfly garden once."
Grissom's Adam's apple bobbed. "Well. He earns points in my book for that." A long moment passed. "I missed you, Sara."
"Then…you just forgot my address and my phone number?" she whispered. He didn't answer, and she hadn't expected him to. "You really do look good. You look happy." She closed her eyes briefly, and when she opened them again, her lashes were wet. "I guess being away from here agreed with you."
"Only to the extent that it made me appreciate everything I left behind."
The moment was dangerous. Although the lab was moving in a state of slow motion after the news of Keppler's death, the door to his office was still open and anyone could walk by. But after four weeks, she only had so much self-control. He was right in front of her, smelling so wonderful, and she was a lost woman.
It wasn't until their lips met that she realized how much she'd missed the tickle of facial hair against her skin. She'd been the biggest supporter of him shaving it off; she'd wanted to know what it would be like to kiss the smooth face for which she'd first fallen. But she hadn't recognized how much it had become a part of him.
She broke away first, afraid of what might happen if she didn't. Stepping back, Sara fought to keep her arms at her sides. "You should call and check on Catherine," she said.
Grissom touched his fingers to his mouth before running them down the over-grown length of his beard. "Will you come over later?"
"You know I will," she said quietly.
He glanced around the bare walls. "I wish I could have gotten to know the man you all knew."
"He was a lot like you." Sara lifted one shoulder. "He was a mystery."
With a frown crinkling his forehead, Grissom backed out of the room. When he was gone, Sara released a breath and sank into Keppler's chair. She sat there for a long time before curiosity got the better of her.
The drawers of his desk were empty, save for the third one down which contained a single paperback book.
Discovering Moths: Nighttime Jewels in Your Own Backyard.
Sara lifted it out and opened the front cover with trembling hands. There was scrawled writing inside. She blinked back tears as she read the words he'd left behind.
Whatever hatches, treat it with compassion. The greater good demands it.
Mike Keppler
Fin
A/N: As comes the end of the man called Keppler, so comes the end of this story. Thank you for reading, and for all of your kind, enthusiastic, insightful comments. It was fun to write with a different character for awhile, and I'm glad you found it worthy of your time;) Take care!