Fic: Kitsune (part 7)

[serafina20]

Title Kitsune (part 7)
Author serafina20
Disclaimer Supernatural, the concept, and characters belong to Eric Kripke, the WB, and others with more money than I.
Pairing mild Dean/OC (suggested)
Warnings Fast and loose mythology, but nothing the show wouldn't do. Swearing.
Summary The Winchesters, with the help of a friend, are investigating a series of seemingly unrelated deaths of college professors ranging back one hundred and fifty years. Sequel to Captured Soul

Previous Parts



"Oh, dude, you have *got* to be kidding me," Dean said flatly, pulling his car to a stop. He checked the address Rachel had given them, then the house numbers. "Shit."

"Don't tell me you didn't see this coming," replied Sam, with a roll of his eyes. "You knew she was rich."

"Yeah, but... That's a fucking mansion."

His brother just shook his head and climbed out of the car. "Yea, it's big. If we'd grown up in a normal house...."

Dean slammed his door with more force than necessary. "Hey, don't start, Sam, I'm not in the mood. Christ." He looked at the house again and shook his head.

It was more than just a big house, and no matter what Sam said, even if they had grown up in Lawrence, this place would still make their old home look like a shack. It wasn't just the house--which was three stories, several wings, and made of solid grey stone--it was the grounds. They sprawled out, taking up the room of at least three houses on a normal block. The lawn was perfectly manicured, and the driveway looked liked it'd been scrubbed down just that morning. Surrounding the perimeter of the house were rose bushes of every color, not one dying bud on the bush. Purple flowers were nestled along the edges of the lawn.

It looked like some kind of movie.

"I am so glad we didn't bring Rachel," he muttered, following Sam up the walkway. "She's Princess PerfectCheeks enough without flaunting this at us."

"Yes, because all she ever does is rubs in our faces how she's rich and we're not. And since when do you think she's perfect?" Sam rang the doorbell.

"I said she has perfect cheeks. Say what you will about the girl, but she has one nice ass."

The door opened right on cue, but, unless her mother was a four foot tall black haired woman with green eyes and a maid's uniform, Dean didn't think he'd made a terrible faux pas. Not that he cared.

"Hi," Sam said, shooting a look at Dean. "I'm Sam, and this is my brother, Dean. We're here to see Dr. Adams or his wife. Or both."

She cocked her head. "Mrs. Adams is out of the country," the woman said in a heavy Spanish accent. "Dr. Adams is in his office. Come in, please." She stepped back, giving them room to enter the house. "I go get him. Stay here. " She shot a dubious look at the brothers and said, "Don't touch anything." She closed the door behind them, and went down the hall. Her shoes made no sound on the mirror shined hard wood floor.

"Why do people keep telling me that?" Dean asked, watching the woman walk away.

"You have that look."

"What look?"

"The 'doesn't play well with others, runs with scissors, hide your daughters and your valuables' look. Plus, you just complimented the daughter of the house's ass, which doesn't add any respectability." He shot a look at Dean. "Speaking of, have you ever met any of your girls' father's before?"

Dean scowled. "Why is that important in this situation?"

Sam grinned at him. "I'm just wondering."

"Well. Have you?"

"Hell yeah. I met Jess's whole family. I got to go through the whole interrogation-with-the-parents thing."

Huh.

Dean rubbed his neck. "And, uh, how did that go?" he asked.

"It was... hard. At first. Dinner was full of uncomfortable small talk, and then, after, her father and I went out on the porch so he could really get to know. It would have been hard enough, but I had to lie about my whole past and everything. But, I turned on the charm, told him my future plans, past the test. We became pretty good friends."

"Future plans, huh?" He scuffed his toe on the floor. "Yeah, who wouldn't want a fancy lawyer wanna-be dating their daughter?" Dean cleared his throat and stuffed his hands in his pockets. "Of course, if your big brother hadn't taught you everything he knew about charm, you never woulda got half as far, eh?" Sidling over to Sam, Dean bumped shoulders.

Sam smirked, eyes rolling. "Oh, no. I'd be nothing without you."

"Dude. That's just wrong."

A man entered the foyer just then. "Hello," he said, removing his glasses and looking over Sam and Dean. "I'm Dr. Adams." His eyes--Rachel's eyes, Dean noticed--seemed to linger on Dean's face.

Crap, did he already piss the guy off?

Sam stepped forward with his hand extended. "Hi, Dr. Adams. I'm Sam Winchester, this is my brother, Dean. We're friends of Rachel's."

"Ah, yes. She's told me about you." He shook Sam's hand. "The demon hunters." He hesitated, then said, "I'm sorry about your loss." Letting go of Sam's hand, he turned to Dean. "Both of you."

Dean shook it his hand, heart thudding kind of weird in his chest. There was no reason to feel nervous. It was just a guy, and Dean had dealt with lots of them in his life. It was part of the job.

"Yeah, well," he said, finding his voice, "thanks." He cleared his throat and pulled away.

"I've been looking through my books and talking to the network, trying to help figure out what's stalking your family," Dr. Adams sad.

"Oh." Sam looked at Dean self-consciously, then back to Dr. Adams. "Well, I guess our dad has already figured out what it was. He didn't tell us, though." A muscle in his jaw twitched. "But, uh. Anyway, he's told us that we can stop looking. Just concentrate on regular jobs."

"I see." Dr. Adams nodded and rubbed his chin. "Well, why don't you pass along my number to him. Even if he doesn't want his boys to help, maybe he wouldn't mind an outside hand. Lord knows, there's plenty of times that I don't want Rachel to get involved with something I'm working on, but have no trouble calling in a friend."

Sam nodded and smiled. "I'll do that, sir. Thank you."

"Of course. Now, you're the psychic, right?"

"Yeah." He blushed and stuffed his hands in his pockets.

"Yeah, but that's not why we're here," Dean interrupted. It was bad enough Rachel knew; there was no way he was going to let someone else go poking through his brother's business without his permission. "We're working on a case and we need your help."

Dr. Adams was frowning at him, but only said, "Right, Rachel told me. The dying professors. I'd be happy to help you. Where's Rachel, anyway? I assume she's helping. God knows, she needs the distraction. You know, she's had me look over that essay of hers almost twenty times?" He shook his head, chuckling. "I admire her diligence, but there's a fine line between diligence and perfectionism. She'd definitely pushing the line and needs to learn when to give herself a break."

"Right," Dean drawled, thinking of the break Rachel was giving herself right now.

His disinterest flew right over Dr. Adam's head. "So. Is she coming?"

"No. Your daughter is..."

"She's at her apartment," Sam interrupted, shooting a look at Dean. "We're investigating different parts of the same case."

"And she sent you to talk with me?"

Sam shook his head. "Not exactly. We were following up on one lead, and that led us to you." He pulled out the list of names. "Our father sent us this list of names. He thought there was something suspicious about their deaths and asked us to look into it. And Rachel said you knew some of them."

Dr. Adams took the list. As he read it over, he waved at Sam and Dean to follow him, walking down the hall to his office.

"Yes, I know some. I knew Alan. His death was a surprise." Dr. Adams walked around his desk and sat down.

"What? He was old," Dean said.

"Yes, but... well, no, he wasn't old," Dr. Adams replied, looking up from the list. "Older, yes, but he certainly didn't have one foot in the grave. The man ran three miles every day, ate well, didn't smoke, all that stuff that's supposed to lead to a long life. He looked fantastic. Even managed to snag himself a younger girlfriend."

Sam and Dean exchanged looks.

"That's actually what brought us to you, sir," Sam said. He'd sat in a chair across from the desk and was now leaning forward doing the earnest puppy-eye thing. "You see, we went to the university museum to as after the woman he was seeing, Katherine." He quickly explained what they'd found out about Katherine and the connection to Kirsten through the art show.

"So you think that this woman is the one behind all these deaths," Dr. Adams said slowly. He looked at the list again. "And you want to know if Simon was seeing someone."

"Two isn't a pattern, exactly, but three is," said Dean. "We thought that maybe it's some kind of demon or something."

Dr. Adams took his glasses off and stroked his chin. "Well... I think that maybe he was. I seem to remember him saying something about seeing some girl. Kim something?"

"Kimi? Was she Japanese?" Sam asked.

"Yes, I think she was. Young, too. I think she was a student." He snapped his fingers. "Yes, actually, she was a student. And we got in an argument about it, too. I thought it was unethical, but he was completely besotted. And, about five weeks after we talked, he'd died." He frowned suddenly. "How did you know?"

"A Kimi something took a class taught by Professor Wheaton last semester," answered Sam.

"His assistant said that she spent a lot of time trying to get into his pants, but the old man wouldn't bite," said Dean.

Dr. Adams looked at him, eyebrows lowered, like he wasn't sure what to make of the comment.

Dean just gazed back blankly.

"No, he wouldn't," Dr. Adams finally said slowly. "He was a man of firm morals. He'd always fought against student, teacher relationships. In fact, a few years ago, he had a rather large and rather public fight with another professor for his frequent affairs with young women in his classes. So I'm not surprised Alan didn't take the bait." He stroked his chin again. "That's three. A definite pattern. What else do we have?"

Dean bristled at the use of the word 'we', but Sam, probably sensing his objection, spoke up. "Well, they're all professors. Most of them are men, but there are some women. Apparently, they're all involved with someone right before they get sick and die. And that someone is what?"

"A demon," Dean said. It seemed obvious to him.

"I'm not sure about that," Dr. Adams replied. He tapped the list with his glasses. "Demons tend to go after those who have something to hide, something immoral they've done. They feed off that energy or guilt. All the men off this list that I know lived good lives. Some went to church, some didn't, but they were law abiding men who were devoted to their work and improving the welfare of those around them."

"So say you," countered Dean. "But you can't know everything about them. They coulda been running prostitution rings for all you know."

"Dean," Sam said warningly.

Dr. Adams, though, just shrugged. "You are, of course, correct. But I still say that, based on my knowledge of them, they were basically good men. Not perfect, not angels, but they generally did what was right. Look." He leaned forward, resting his arms on the desk. "I know off hand about ten professors who wouldn't hesitate to sleep with a good looking, young, willing student should she--or he--push the issue. I know professors who sell answers to tests in return for money or items or sexual favors. I know people who are cheating on their significant others, doing drugs, faking their research, and none of those professors are on this list."

"Demons like secret sin."

"Well, maybe, but, in general, demons tend to be lazy. Why should they have to work that hard when there are examples of immoral or corrupt professors who hide it but not so deeply those close to them don't know about it?"

Dean opened his mouth to respond when Sam suddenly said, "Are any of them on the list married?"

Dr. Adams blinked and tore his eyes away from Dean's face. "Uh." He glanced down at the paper, slipping his glasses back on. "Uh...no, actually. Alan's widowed, or he was widowed. His wife died about sixteen years ago. He's had a few relationships since then, but nothing serious. In fact, the past few years, he'd pretty much just thrown himself into his work until he met Kitty." He looked down again. "Simon never married. When he was younger, he had a new girl every few months, but that's stopped about eight years ago. Bad break-up. I think his heart was involved. And then, nothing until Kimi. In fact, all of them are widowed, divorced, or never married."

"And all diddling some sweet young thing before they died."

"Dean!"

"What?"

Sam shot him a poisonous look, but Dean just shrugged and said, "Isn't that what we're trying to find out? Whether or not this woman is going around and fucking the life out of these men?"

"Oh God," Sam sighed, covering his eyes.

For a long moment, Dr. Adams just looked at him. One of his eyes was sort of squinted, eyebrow lowered. One of the corners of his mouth was raised.

He looked so much like Rachel, it was scary.

Suddenly, he laughed. "You know, it took me six months for me to realize my daughter never stopped talking about you? I knew about Sam, of course; for the first month after she met the two of you, ever other name that came out of her mouth was 'Sam.' I figured she was stuck on him until my wife pointed out that only thing she said more than, 'Sam told me,' was, 'This guy I know said.' And you were that guy she knows."

Dean shifted n his chair, face hot. "Um. Okay."

"He's the same way, sir," Sam piped up, earning him a swift kick in the shin. "Never says her name," he continued, voice pained. "If he can help it... Fuck, stop it, Dean!" He shifted his chair out of reach. "They've both got the mentality of an eight year old. No offense."

"I prefer my daughter be more on the innocent side, personally. Although, I will concede there's a difference between immaturity and innocence."

"Can we get back to the case?" Dean asked. "I have a life I need to get back to."

"I'm sure you do." And there was a shitload of condescension in that statement that Dean graciously ignored. "So. Demons that feed off sexual energy, huh? Can't be an incubus or succubus. Not if she's waltzing around during the day. So." He leaned back in his chair, tilting his head back. "Lilith? Or maybe a Hindu goddess?"

"What about the women on the list?" said Sam. "Are they all lesbians, or did this thing take another form?"

Rachel's father looked at the list again. "You know, I don't know Mary Anne Black, but I know someone who knows her. Hang on." He grabbed the phone and pulled it towards him.

As he made initial contact, Dean rose from his seat and looked around. All the walls were lined with bookshelves. Most of the titles had to do with colonial history or some other boring shit, but there was some that Dean had actually read. Real Ghosts, Restless Spirits, and Haunted Places, Hidden Files: Law Enforcement's True Case Stories of the Unexplained and Paranormal, Fear: A Ghost Hunter's Story among others. He even had a few that Dean wouldn't mind borrowing, except it might. It was an impressive collection.

"Mary Anne?" a tinny voice said suddenly.

Dean turned. Dr. Adams had put the phone on speaker and was leaning over.

"Yes, George. I know you knew her, and I have some questions."

"Ah. Is this one of those kind of cases?"

"I think so. Can you help me?"

"I'll do what I can."

Dr. Adam's looked at Sam and nodded. "Thank you. I mostly was curious as to whether she was seeing anyone before she died? Anyone new?"

"Yes, she was, in fact. It was very unusual for her. I know you didn't know her, but Mary Anne was quite the little spinster stereotype. She'd been engaged when she was in her twenties, but her fiancee cheated on her and they broke it off. After that, she rarely went out, but, after two months before she died, she met some young man. It seemed serious, even though he was about twenty years younger than she was."

"Do you remember his name? What he looked like?"

"Uh." The guy made a frustrated sound. "I can't... I know he had bright, bright red hair. A few times I saw them on campus together, and one time, he was standing directly in front of the sun. It almost looked like he was on fire. Oh, and really intense blue eyes. They were interesting to look at. His name.... God, I can't remember..."

Dean stepped forward, heart pounding. "Was it Kit?" he asked.

"What? I didn't..."

Dr. Adam's head had snapped up to Dean. He frowned. "That's a friend, George. He wants to know if the guy's name was Kit."

"Yes, that was it. How did you..."

"Dean. Dean! Wait!" Sam shouted as Dean ran from the room. "We don't even know what he is!"

"Rachel's with him now! I've gotta stop that sonofabitch before he kills her." He threw open the front door and fled down the driveway to the Impala.

"Dean!" shouted Sam again, but he was too slow. If he wasn't in the car already, then was being left behind.

Dean had an ass to kick.