The Shark was Framed

[madimpossibledreamer]

Main Points:
Jojo's Bizarre Adventure/Supernatural Crossover.  I might call this Little Starfish 'verse if I write more than two drabbles two drabbles and a longer work for it.  We'll see.
Summary: It's not often that they get a Hunt in Florida.  But they're definitely going to find out what's going on at the aquarium.  (or: let's jojo all the things)
Word Count: 940

 

         “So, during the time in question, you were…?” Dean leads, as they take a few twists and turns confidently.  Dr. Kujo’s pace says he doesn’t care whether they keep up or not, and if they don’t, it’s their own fault.
         “Yare yare, like I said, looking after the brat.  Had to take a couple days off from teaching and research for it, too.  Wouldn’t have minded if she’d given me more warning.”  He flashes a card to get into the next area, which Sam takes a note of.  “So I wasn’t even here during most of it.  Only the 21^st.  Jolyne begged to see where I work, which I could only fulfill a little.”
         “What does that mean?” Dean asks sharply, beating Sam to it.
         “Wasn’t about to take her back here,” the expert states gruffly, tugging at his eccentric hat.  “We use forklifts and chemicals back here.  Wasn’t about to let a sneaky kid like her back here, even with supervision.”
         Sam comes to the unexpected conclusion that he actually does like his kid, no matter how much griping he does.  Dean, by his frown, hasn’t come to the same conclusion.
         “Is that why the keycard’s needed?” he adds.
         Blue eyes flash at him with something almost like respect.  “Yeah.  ‘T’s why.  Otherwise, I was entertaining the brat at home, mostly, though we went to the beach, too.”  The frown deepens, and for a moment he looks like he’s not going to keep talking.  Then he stops moving entirely.  Completely.  “Look, I’m not good with people.  Probably why the ex-wife divorced me.  It’s even harder because Jolyne’s so…normal.  She keeps sneaking off, which…I understand.  Exploration’s fun.  I told her to play in shouting distance, she didn’t, next thing I know she’s being dragged out to sea by a rip tide.  It’s a damn good thing I’m a good swimmer, but it’s not like…”  He sighs, gesturing like it’s going to conjure up the words he needs.  “If she sneaks off in the house, it’s fine,” he finishes eventually, placing his hands firmly in his pockets and starting off again.
         “I understand some of the bodies were found back here,” Sam states, cutting off Dean who’s probably going to press that point.  There’s no need to purposefully antagonize the man, especially when he’s demonstrated some humanity.  He might still turn out to be a monster, but they’re not going to get anything from him if he gets all defensive.
         “Which would require a keycard.  Yeah, caught that too.”  They reach another room labeled research; Dr. Kujo flashes his card again.  “Probably not mine.  Like I said, I wasn’t here, and I can be a paranoid bastard.  That card didn’t go anywhere.  Judging by their work standards, some of my co-workers aren’t nearly careful enough.”  They step into the room.  It holds a few tanks.  “Don’t touch anything,” he warns.
         “So—you think one of their cards was stolen,” Dean says in his most ‘tell me another one’ voice.
         “I wouldn’t be surprised if it’s still missing and they’re covering it up.  Wouldn’t know myself because with my reputation they wouldn’t ask me to lend them my card.  We’re supposed to report it so they can deactivate the last one and issue a new one, but it costs money.  Supposed to teach us not to lose ‘em, but like I said, with the way they work it’s more likely they just tell themselves it’s fine and circumvent the rules because they don’t think the rules apply to them.”  He takes a fish from one of the buckets and carefully places it in what looks like some sort of puzzle ball, effortlessly putting it back together.  “If you’re asking, I don’t think any of them did it unless they’re very good at pretending they’re something they’re not because they’re wusses.  And I didn’t do it because I punch people to teach them a lesson and they can’t learn anything if they’re dead.”  He barely unlatches it before a tentacle flies out and grabs his arm.  “Well, now, that’s not very nice, is it?” he asks flatly, locking eyes with the octopus that reluctantly pulls back the tentacle.
         “So your defense is that you’re too mean to let them die?” Dean inquires, shocked, and Dr. Kujo snorts.
         There’s a slight curl to his mouth that might be a smile.  “Something like that.”  He drops the ball in, and the octopus almost trips over itself getting to the ball, tentacle arms already probing the puzzle, eager for a solution.  The expression disappears.  “You might’ve heard that the aquarium’s wanting to blame the whole thing on the sharks.  That’s bullcrap.  Coroner says the teeth marks don’t match any of our specimens, and it’s not like a shark’s got a way to flash a card and get itself and its victim into any of the rooms neither should’ve been in.  They don’t want to deal with the scandal of murder.  Which is dumb because it’s already here.  Only thing that line of defense is gonna do is put our research sharks in jeopardy from idiots out there—” he flicks a thumb toward one of the walls, “—wanting blood.  Wanting revenge.  I swear humans are more savage than great whites sometimes,” he mutters to himself.
         “If you were an animal, what would you be?” Sam throws out, hoping it’s a trick question.
         Again, there’s the surprise, followed by respect, in those blue eyes.  “Octopus,” he answers without hesitation.
         “I thought you said he was an ass,” Dean sounds startled.
         That definitely is a wolfish grin in response.  “In case you hadn’t noticed, so am I.”