#unsolved au

i like to think dipper and mabel become paranormal investigators when they’re older. they kinda become small internet celebrities, like buzzfeed unsolved. they cover true crime, or missing stories, but their main area of expertise is paranormal encounters

dipper takes things a little more seriously then mabel. he does his best to be respectful of ghosts, spirits, whatever. mabel on the other hand likes goofing off and poking at the supernatural., both of the twins never feel like they’re in danger though, cause “we faced the end of the world when we were pre-teens, this is like childs play”

“Not necessarily,” Mycroft says. “Much as I hate to admit it, Sherly has a point. There’s potential. It just needs to be reworked.”

“Don’t tell me you want to add dramatizations,” Sherlock moans. “How exactly would that make us any different than any other true crime show on this website?”

“Don’t be gauche,” Mycroft says. “Dramatizations are tacky at best. We are above them. I was thinking of a change in host.”

That finally strikes Sherlock dumb for all of a few seconds.

“This show was my idea,” he snarls when he gets his wits back. “You can’t take it away from me.”

“Not you.”

John, quite frankly, is feeling pretty flattered that Sherlock got over his self-important tendencies for long enough to not see the obvious. It won’t make getting fired hurt any less, but it is flattering.

“You can’t take it away from John either,” Sherlock says. “He did just as much work as me. He helped with all the research.”

“Yes, and that’s the problem,” Mycroft says. “You two worked together on the research. By the time you got to filming, it was nothing but inside jokes and logical leaps no one could follow but the two of you.”

John winces, because yeah, okay, that’s fair. He and Sherlock have been friends since they were randomly assigned to be roommates the first year of university, and they’ve been living together ever since. John’s had a long time to get used to Sherlock’s particular brand of weird, and while he thought it was fine at the time, looking back he can see how he would’ve followed Sherlock’s train of thought in a way that only comes from long-term exposure.

“Look, John,” Mycroft sighs. “I’m not doubting your ability as a research partner. I know you and Sherly work well together. If you were some kind of detective duo, no one would have a complaint. But you two simply do not have the kind of chemistry on camera that works, and we’ve been trying to get Sherly his own show for a while.”

That, also, is fair. Sherlock is a popular, if somewhat mysterious, member of their YouTube channel. He’s guest starred in the past on some of the other member’s regular shows, usually when they needed someone willing to try just about anything in the pursuit of scientific curiosity, and it’s always played well with the audience. It’s no one’s fault that John’s been a constant presence behind the camera instead of in front of it.

“We need to have someone Sherly can bounce off, but we also need to keep the audience engaged,” Mycroft continues.

“Well I’m not doing the show alone,” Sherlock huffs.

“I never said that either,” Mycroft says. “I’m sure you know Louis has an older brother.”

“Brown hair, green eyes, bankrolls half our shit and constantly beats you in a battle of which one wants to fuck the other more?” Sherlock replies.

“You’re not cute,” Mycroft says, eye twitching, “and I wasn’t talking about Albert.”

John sits quietly while the brothers descend back into bickering. He supposes it won’t take long to clear out his desk. He’s flat broke and never had the money to dress his space up nicely. His most recent project had finished up a little before this new project with Sherlock, and it’s all he’s got going for him at this company. He knows how this game works: you either constantly have new, viral content churning out, or you don’t have a job anymore.

“If you don’t mind, I’ll go clean out my desk,” John interrupts. Both Holmes brothers stare at him like he’s grown a second head.

“Why would you do that?” Mycroft asks.

“Because this was the only project I was working on, and now I’m off it?” It comes out more as a question than a statement of fact, even if it’s objectively true.

“You’re still a talented cameraman,” Mycroft says. “I don’t understand how you filmed that as well as you did while you were on camera yourself. And there’s no problem in you helping Sherlock with the research if you’re not the one he has to explain it all to.”

“So, I’m not fired?”

His resume can remain in the dark corner of his documents folder another day and his medical school bills will be paid for another month.

“On the contrary, I’d like you to stay on this project,” Mycroft says. “If nothing else, you’ll probably be necessary for helping introduce Sherly to William. He plays so poorly with others.”

Sherlock growls at that, letting his accent skew even more common just to piss Mycroft off, and John sighs to himself. It’ll be best for everyone if this William has more of Albert’s patience with people and less of Louis’ knives. He has no idea what to expect, though. William is the third Moriarty brother that most of them have never met. Louis works as a producer of most of their content, and Albert provides finances, but William has never worked with any of them before. If John has no idea what to expect of him, then he definitely has no idea what to expect of Sherlock.

Still, he reasons a few days later as he herds Sherlock into an empty conference room to wait for their potential new coworker, about half the population responds fine to Sherlock once they see the good heart he has in his chest. This could end up being a good thing. At least, it better, because he can see a blond head that could be the twin of Louis’ coming through the glass of the conference room that looks over the entrance of the building. The head pauses for just a moment at the foot of the stairs before climbing up, and soon the door swings open.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you both,” a soft-spoken man with the same startling scarlet eyes as Louis greets them politely. “My brother said you might need my help.”

“Can’t imagine what help we’d need from a maths PhD student,” Sherlock gripes. He’s been petulant since the meeting with Mycroft.

John is about to smack him, because…well, Sherlock does tend to be abrasive, but he usually makes it through pleasantries before he starts behaving badly, and John quite frankly raised him better than this. William just cocks his head to the side, though.

“How did you know I’m a PhD student for maths?” he asks, voice just as pleasant as before.

“Because it’s obvious,” Sherlock says. “You’re wearing a graduate school hoodie.”

“That doesn’t tell you what I study. Or that I’m a PhD student and not a grad student.”

“You stopped and stared at the staircase when you walked in.”

“So?”

“You stopped like it had completely interrupted your train of thought. Of course, it’s a fancy building, but you weren’t taken in by the fancy architecture. You stepped back to get a better look. Not to take in the building, you didn’t care about the structure, but to measure something that had caught your eye. The proportion of the stairs, just as you suspected, are built using the golden ratio.”

Unlike most people on the receiving end of this treatment, William doesn’t look shocked or even particularly impressed by Sherlock’s observations. In fact, other than a slight widening of the eyes, his expression hasn’t changed much at all.

“And the PhD student?”

“They don’t give out the fancy coffee mugs you have to the graduate students. Trust me, more than one of us have tried.”

That manages to get an amused smile out of William, and John decides he very much likes this third Moriarty brother.

“Is it my turn now?” William asks.

“Your turn?”

“To observe you,” William says. “It’s only fair, right?”

Sherlock spreads his hands in obvious invitation. John leans forward. Something tells him he’s in for a show.

“You enjoy experiments,” William starts. “Mostly biochemical in nature. You have an interest in all natural sciences, though. You graduated with a degree you don’t care much about a few years ago, and you’ve been a part time grad student ever since because that lets you keep access to the labs for your own experiments and has the added benefit of keeping your brother off your back. You force your conclusions in your endgame as you get excited chasing your thread, and you have a bit of a,” he leans forward and takes a loud sniff, “chemical dependence.”

“How’d you get all that?” Sherlock asks.

William gives him what John thinks might be the first real smile since they sat down.

“Because it’s obvious.”

Sherlock goes completely still, staring at William. John almost worries that his brain finally short-circuited, when he throws his head back in loud laughter.

“You’re something else,” Sherlock says, obviously delighted. “How do you feel about true crime?”

“I have a bit of an interest,” William replies. “You won’t pick boring cases, will you? Louis told me you’ll just be explaining them to me and we’ll say what we think really happened.”

“Me? Boring?” Sherlock asks. “Never.”

“It’s nice to meet you, William,” John says, because he feels they’ve gotten a bit off track, no matter how much fun it seems the other two are having. “I look forward to working with you.”

“You as well, John,” William says. “I hope you’ll be gentle with me. Like my brothers, I’m much better at working behind the scenes.”

“I’m sure we can make a Youtuber of you yet,” John assures him.

William seems to have excellent chemistry with Sherlock, more than John had dreamed possible from a perfect stranger, but that doesn’t mean he’ll do well in front of the camera. Plenty of the charismatic people John has met stiffen up the second they’re being recorded.

In stubborn refusal to let the show die, John throws himself into researching the case Sherlock will talk about with William. Once the fear of being fired wears off, John takes this for the good thing it could end up being. He really doesn’t love being on camera, and being Sherlock’s research assistant fits much better into his lifestyle of being a medical student than being a cohost ever would’ve. For this good thing to last, though, the next episode needs to be a hit. Mycroft has never made himself known for giving second chances.

On filming day, everything is ready to go when William arrives with Louis, and John settles whatever worries he’s been nursing. He’s back behind the camera, and while this won’t be his permanent career, it is his element, and he settles into final checks, mind quieting as he works.

“So what do you want me to do?” William asks as he sits next to Sherlock, peering curiously at the case file in Sherlock’s hands. “Do I just listen? Do I try to solve the case?”

“If you have any questions, ask them,” Louis says. He’s acting as producer, which John is pleased about. Sherlock and Louis might have some weird antagonistic relationship, but John likes Louis just fine, and likes his skills as a producer more than fine. “We can edit if it goes off track, but it won’t be interesting if you two don’t play off each other.”

“Got it,” William says. He doesn’t look nervous, but he shakes his shoulders out anyway.

“Rolling in three, two, one…” John gestures as he starts the camera.

“This week on Unsolved we’re covering the case of the Sodder children,” Sherlock starts right away. William’s eyes go wide and he leans away from the sudden onset of Sherlock’s new persona.

That’s fair. Sherlock in explanation mode can be a lot to the uninitiated.

“Introduce your new host,” John says before Sherlock can get too deep into it.

“Oh, right John,” Sherlock says. “Everyone, this is William. He’ll be joining me from now on.”

William waves at the camera, seeming to relax. John catches Louis gesturing to him from the side. He holds a finger to his lips.

Right. John is just behind the camera now. He’s not part of the show anymore.

“Let’s get into it,” Sherlock says, opening his case file. It’s just a prop for show, and because it’s the easiest way to get Sherlock to stick mostly to a script. “The year was 1945 on the night before Christmas in Fayetteville, West Virginia…”

Sherlock starts to launch into the story, and William lets him go just long enough for John to worry they won’t have any chemistry at all before cutting in.

“He wanted to park his coal truck next to a fire?” William asks.

“I’m sure the coal truck was empty at the time,” Sherlock replies.

“You don’t know that, what if it was full of coal and he was just panicking?” William says.

“Just tries to climb in to save his children on a pile of burning coal?” Sherlock snorts, and that launches a little back and forth before Sherlock gets back to the story.

Sherlock covers the house burning down with no response from firefighters, the potential loss of five children through kidnapping rather than fire, and William interjects periodically with a question or an observation or, once, something John is sure was just to make Sherlock laugh.

“So, Liam, let’s get into the theories,” Sherlock says. Louis sits up much straighter at the sudden nickname. “First, there’s the insurance salesman.”

“The one who said George would have his house burnt down and his children killed?” William asks. “Charming fellow.”

“Yes, he’s done plenty to make himself suspicious,” Sherlock says.

“He was also on the jury that the coroner called to determine cause of death,” John interjects, because Sherlock has clearly forgotten that William doesn’t know that. He winces before he even sees Louis make a sharp gesture out of the corner of his eye.

“Wait, really?” William asks, focus finally leaving Sherlock for John.

“That’s right, John,” Sherlock says, leaning forward, eyes bright. “He keeps popping up in different areas of this story. Has a lot of opportunity, doesn’t he?”

And that sets Sherlock and William off again, running through theories of the mafia being involved, of the children being sold, of the various sightings of them throughout the years. They’re clearly having the time of their lives, bouncing off each other, approaching things from much different angles. Sherlock clearly prefers a linear path from start to finish in his explanations, while William seems to prefer to look at all the information like a portrait, starting from a distance and drawing conclusions. They’re fun to watch. Most of this will be cut in edits just for time, but John enjoys watching for now.

“Anything else I’m missing, John?” Sherlock asks, despite Louis giving him a truly frightening glare.

“Nothing on my end,” John replies, because they’re already going to have to edit this footage to hell and back, and Herder can’t really complain about one more thing.

“Then we can hope some of our questions will one day be answered, but for now, the case remains unsolved,” Sherlock says, wrapping up the main portion of the episode. “What do you think happened, Liam?”

“Hmm,” William considers. “I think the simplest answer is the most likely. The children died in the fire and it was impossible to find their bones in the amount of wreckage the house produced.”

“But…?” Sherlock leads.

“But,” William continues with a grin. “I have to say I’m intrigued by a mafia connection, and by that life insurance salesman. I mean, surely salesmen weren’t this vicious on the whole? Maybe he had another reason to target the Sodder family.”

“A mafia connection would certainly explain how that PI went missing,” Sherlock agrees. “Who knows how they could definitively solve this case so many years later, though.”

“How indeed?” William asks, and something about the thoughtful intelligence in his eyes sends a chill down John’s spine. He’s used to that kind of look in Sherlock. It’s disconcerting to see it in someone else.

They cut filming, and John’s feeling pretty pleased with himself. Slips aside, it’s good footage. Herder is magic in the editing room, but John is pretty sure even he could pull a usable episode out of what they have. Herder just has to take all his interjections out first.

John doesn’t watch the video as soon as it airs, preferring to wait for the morning to see what kind of engagement it gets. He barely has time to set his bag down at his desk when he walks into the office after class before James is bounding over to him.

“How’s the new superstar feeling?” James asks. John reels back a little from the wide grin suddenly close to his face. James Bond is a hurricane of a person, and everyone is a little overwhelmed and in love in his presence.

“The video did well?” John asks, completely abandoning his cool and turning on his computer to check analytics.

“It didn’t just do well,” James tells him as John looks at the promising trend of engagement. “You’re trending on Twitter.”

James shoves his phone in John’s face, and it takes a minute for the text to come into focus. There, under the trending Unsolved topic, John sees #WeAreJohn.

“What?” he asks weakly.

“Didn’t you watch the video yet?” James asks. “Half the time Sherlock and William are talking directly to you. It’s almost like you’re a stand in for the audience.”

John is still trying to come to terms with the fact that Herder apparently didn’t remove all his slips when Mycroft comes by his desk.

“Good work on the video,” Mycroft says, in that stiff Mycroft sort of way where it looks like it pains him to praise anything. “I’m pleased to see you’re not off the show entirely.”

“I didn’t realize that was the concept,” John says, feeling a little dazed.

“Herder was very insistent,” Mycroft says. “I can’t say I disagreed with him once he showed me the final product.”

Mycroft raps his knuckles awkwardly on John’s desk once before retreating to his office with his coffee. His younger brother appears as soon as his door closes.

“John, help me pick out the next case,” Sherlock says, eyes bright and cheeks flushed. He looks like a puppy. “I don’t want to bore Liam.”

Ah.

It’s been a while, but John has seen this look before. The last time was all the way back in second year when James managed to pull a fast one on Sherlock and earn not only his respect but a very boyish crush. The result had been a six month relationship that was more trouble to anyone than it was worth, ending only when James left for a year abroad in Poland as Irene and came back to England as James. The joy of having a friend back and new pronouns and names to learn far eclipsed any talk of the dregs of a messy relationship, and Sherlock and James had faded into a close friendship.

William will be different, though. James is clever, yes, and managed to surprise Sherlock, but he doesn’t exist at the same level of analytical that Sherlock’s brain seems to refuse to turn off. William, though, meets Sherlock on a level John had previously thought only Mycroft was capable of, and does so without raising Sherlock’s hackles.