Entry tags:
Fanfics About Sherlock BBC (Soft silk is hard to tear - 14)
AU! No summary so far. It's about music, show business and a new life after a disaster. John+Sherlock. Slowburn.
https://www.fanfiction.net/s/14237516/1/Soft-silk-is-hard-to-tear
https://archiveofourown.org/works/47086126
Emil, thanks for the preliminary reading.
Sally Donovan didn't give a damn that Sherlock Holmes was burying his career. And if this freak himself croaks somewhere, Sally will not be sorry more so. But as long as he and, especially, his career are still alive, he must give her That Very Song!
Finding the village where the freak was sitting was not difficult. However, he himself disappeared somewhere. Sally smiled sweetly and signed autographs, but inside she was seething with rage. Finally, someone advised her to go to the priest's home. To Sally's amazement, the freak — no, you heard: Sherlock Holmes, an absolute freak, incapable of normal human contact! — helped the doctor console the girl who was offended by some villains. The inhabitants of the village, the guests of the shelter for the disabled military, and the local constable were looking forward to when they could restore justice.
They willingly showed Sally the way: everyone decided that the presence of a woman would be more useful — what if there was sexual violence?
Sally didn't relish the prospect of getting into other people's problems. But the freak and the help were absolutely incompatible, so something extremely interesting was happening in the priest's house, from which a lot of benefits could be extracted. Sally, carefully hiding behind the bushes of the lush garden that was at the vicarage, went from window to window to eavesdrop on the talk.
When Sally found the right window, she couldn't believe her ears. Hearing through the closed windows was bad, but she realised that the freak wanted to write a song for some chick who was kicked out of the band by her colleagues.
Sherlock Holmes, of course, discredited himself very much, but not so much as to work for some hillbilly! Although... Money has never been interesting to him. Mrs. Hudson took care of the fees. And the freak was looking for those whom he called 'worthy'.
So this hillbilly is worth a lot. Sherlock Holmes, of course, is a freak, and there is no doubt about it, but he unmistakably selects talents accurately. Wouldn't it be better to make friends with this young lady in order for the freak to give a good duet song to Sally and this girl? Sally was well aware that her already low — only within the British Isles — popularity was declining, and she would never become a talk show star or the creator of her own fashion brand, as many decommissioned singers did. But she can become a Starmaker.
Sally doubted her talents in this area, but none of those who were patronized by the freak had endured him longer than before their first appearance on MTV or radio with his song. If such a bunch of people intercept those who escape from Sherlock Holmes and make huge money and fame from this, then why can't Sally do the same?
She knocked on the window. When the priest opened it and was stunned to see one of the UK's most famous pop divas, Sally jumped up and slipped deftly into the living room.
"I'm not going to apologise. In the village, they said that the girl was in terrible trouble and that she needed women's help. I wanted to know what happened and what kind of rescue buoy should be thrown into the sea."
She looked at the girl. Beautiful. This is good. One will be a good rate.
"You were raped," Sally said. "Not in the vagina, but in the heart, which is even worse. But if you sing a duet with me, it would be a wonderful revenge, wouldn't it?"
"You are a superstar," the girl muttered in confusion. "Why do you need me?! And I don't sing pop. Sorry."
"The pop-metal has been flourishing in this world for many years," Sally said. "What Bon Jovi and Europe conquered the world with will work for us as well."
The girly, judging by the clothes and the remnants of what was makeup before the young lady began to sob, is from among the young fans of the old rock school. This means that he not only knows who Bon Jovi and Europe are but also often listens to their songs. The enthusiastic smile of the novice rocker showed that Sally was not mistaken. And she said, to dispel the girl's remnants of doubt:
"You need to punish the deceivers. It's time for me to change my image. We were at the right time in the right place, and it is foolish not to use it. And scammers shouldn't win."
Sally didn't know and didn't want to know who was right and who was wrong. The main thing is to say what the client wants to hear. And, judging by the face of the priest, Sally said the right thing.
"Yes," the girl uttered with uncertainty. And she added more decisively, "I agree."
Freak looked at them both angrily and said:
"John, this is Sally Donovan. Old friend. Sally, this is Dr. John Watson. He sings the song that you came to beg for again, even though I already said that you don't know how to sing."
"You never said I couldn't sing," Sally retorted. For the sake of a chick who will soon be laying golden eggs, Sally didn't send Sherlock to the ass like she usually did.
"Anyone can sing," Sherlock replied. "Even the sheep sing."
"And therefore there were people who wanted to listen to your vocals. When you could still say a dozen words in a row without coughing."
Sally looked at John Watson.
"Wow, the freak knows which slice of bread has butter on it. If I ever go crazy enough to want a husband and children, then only someone like John Watson is needed for marriage." This person was unlike anyone Sherlock Holmes had ever brought to Scotland Garden Records. Sally did not know how to read the biographies of people by the details of their appearance, but she never complained about her worldly instinct. He is something more. And he deserved a better partner than a freak.
And sparks of desire flashed in the eyes of John Watson when he looked at the gorgeous figure of Sally. He is not only interested in men. Or nothing shines for the freak because the anatomy is not the same. Sally smiled slightly at John Watson.
"Has he invited you to the little Italian restaurant at Angelo's?"
"I have to go to the shelter." John Watson went to the door.
Freak, to Sally's amazement, rushed after him. Well, to hell with both of them. All the same, she can't knock the song out of the freak, but here there is a really profitable product. And Sally smiled sweetly at the girl:
"Perhaps we should ask the holy father for permission to wash our faces? It would be helpful for me too. And then we'll have lunch in town and discuss the performance. We'll write the song ourselves, without the freak. And my pal is a great arranger."
The girl gasped in fright, took out a pocket mirror, and began to study her face.
" Dear God… And I was walking down the street like that?!"
"Oh, nothing terrible," said Sally. "But we should definitely go to the pub and thank the people for worrying about you. And to say to them that you will not get depressed because of the rubbish boys."
"Tim's songs belong to the group," the girl cried again. "And he wrote them only for me! To distract himself when I talked him into drug addiction treatment. Edwin and Bob had tried to write songs before, but they were mangy. Everyone wanted to run away. But I persuaded all of them to stay and try again! With new songs. And Tim's songs were wonderful! The group started moving up. And now Tim is dead, the band has a new drummer in his place, and the first thing he did was vote for me to be fired. And the whole group voted."
"You are playing the bass, right?" Any musician always recognises the specialisation of another musician at a glance; there is no need to be Sherlock Holmes. And Sally just took advantage of the pause in the girl's monologue to get her back on track. Finding a bass player isn't easy, and you have a slight time advantage. And if we do well on MTV of Britain, a lawyer at Scotland Garden Records will quickly get you a share of the band. Mrs. Turner is great at these things."
Interest appeared in the girl's eyes. MTV in Britain, with all its spin-offs, wasn't as into the silly reforms as its American parent and was still quite popular with the youth. Sally made the next move:
"Those stupid boys can vote until you are blue in the face for you don't play in their band, but they will pay you royalties on every penny the band earns, even if they will clean the lavatories in the pubs. And since finding a good songwriter is much more difficult than finding a bass player, the band will soon be heavily in debt. First and foremost, they owe you. And you can take the band into full ownership along with all the songs of Tim. You can kick out all those stupid boys and single-handedly recruit new musicians of your liking to give Tim's songs new life and all the success they deserve."
Oh, that was a bullseye shot! The determination on the girl's face became harder than stone. And Sally decided to consolidate the victory:
"Even all the songs of Edwin and Bob will be yours. They also belong to the band, not the guys, right?"
The girl nodded, and Sally said:
"If you want, the arrangers at Scotland Garden Records can bring them up to a level that can fill in a couple of missing tracks in your song album. The bung doesn't have to be talented; it needs to look decent enough to bring out the beauty of the lead singles."
And that was exactly what we needed! The young lady almost turned into a torch out of an ardent desire to quickly get down to business. So Sally will very soon take revenge on the freak for the fact that he never gave her a single song of his — even when they were lovers.
In addition, news about how Sally Donovan helped a beautiful victim of deception will soon be the topic of the day on the whole blogosphere and all social networks. And this will greatly increase not only Sally's popularity rating but also the sales of her songs.
https://www.fanfiction.net/s/14237516/1/Soft-silk-is-hard-to-tear
https://archiveofourown.org/works/47086126
Emil, thanks for the preliminary reading.
Sally Donovan didn't give a damn that Sherlock Holmes was burying his career. And if this freak himself croaks somewhere, Sally will not be sorry more so. But as long as he and, especially, his career are still alive, he must give her That Very Song!
Finding the village where the freak was sitting was not difficult. However, he himself disappeared somewhere. Sally smiled sweetly and signed autographs, but inside she was seething with rage. Finally, someone advised her to go to the priest's home. To Sally's amazement, the freak — no, you heard: Sherlock Holmes, an absolute freak, incapable of normal human contact! — helped the doctor console the girl who was offended by some villains. The inhabitants of the village, the guests of the shelter for the disabled military, and the local constable were looking forward to when they could restore justice.
They willingly showed Sally the way: everyone decided that the presence of a woman would be more useful — what if there was sexual violence?
Sally didn't relish the prospect of getting into other people's problems. But the freak and the help were absolutely incompatible, so something extremely interesting was happening in the priest's house, from which a lot of benefits could be extracted. Sally, carefully hiding behind the bushes of the lush garden that was at the vicarage, went from window to window to eavesdrop on the talk.
When Sally found the right window, she couldn't believe her ears. Hearing through the closed windows was bad, but she realised that the freak wanted to write a song for some chick who was kicked out of the band by her colleagues.
Sherlock Holmes, of course, discredited himself very much, but not so much as to work for some hillbilly! Although... Money has never been interesting to him. Mrs. Hudson took care of the fees. And the freak was looking for those whom he called 'worthy'.
So this hillbilly is worth a lot. Sherlock Holmes, of course, is a freak, and there is no doubt about it, but he unmistakably selects talents accurately. Wouldn't it be better to make friends with this young lady in order for the freak to give a good duet song to Sally and this girl? Sally was well aware that her already low — only within the British Isles — popularity was declining, and she would never become a talk show star or the creator of her own fashion brand, as many decommissioned singers did. But she can become a Starmaker.
Sally doubted her talents in this area, but none of those who were patronized by the freak had endured him longer than before their first appearance on MTV or radio with his song. If such a bunch of people intercept those who escape from Sherlock Holmes and make huge money and fame from this, then why can't Sally do the same?
She knocked on the window. When the priest opened it and was stunned to see one of the UK's most famous pop divas, Sally jumped up and slipped deftly into the living room.
"I'm not going to apologise. In the village, they said that the girl was in terrible trouble and that she needed women's help. I wanted to know what happened and what kind of rescue buoy should be thrown into the sea."
She looked at the girl. Beautiful. This is good. One will be a good rate.
"You were raped," Sally said. "Not in the vagina, but in the heart, which is even worse. But if you sing a duet with me, it would be a wonderful revenge, wouldn't it?"
"You are a superstar," the girl muttered in confusion. "Why do you need me?! And I don't sing pop. Sorry."
"The pop-metal has been flourishing in this world for many years," Sally said. "What Bon Jovi and Europe conquered the world with will work for us as well."
The girly, judging by the clothes and the remnants of what was makeup before the young lady began to sob, is from among the young fans of the old rock school. This means that he not only knows who Bon Jovi and Europe are but also often listens to their songs. The enthusiastic smile of the novice rocker showed that Sally was not mistaken. And she said, to dispel the girl's remnants of doubt:
"You need to punish the deceivers. It's time for me to change my image. We were at the right time in the right place, and it is foolish not to use it. And scammers shouldn't win."
Sally didn't know and didn't want to know who was right and who was wrong. The main thing is to say what the client wants to hear. And, judging by the face of the priest, Sally said the right thing.
"Yes," the girl uttered with uncertainty. And she added more decisively, "I agree."
Freak looked at them both angrily and said:
"John, this is Sally Donovan. Old friend. Sally, this is Dr. John Watson. He sings the song that you came to beg for again, even though I already said that you don't know how to sing."
"You never said I couldn't sing," Sally retorted. For the sake of a chick who will soon be laying golden eggs, Sally didn't send Sherlock to the ass like she usually did.
"Anyone can sing," Sherlock replied. "Even the sheep sing."
"And therefore there were people who wanted to listen to your vocals. When you could still say a dozen words in a row without coughing."
Sally looked at John Watson.
"Wow, the freak knows which slice of bread has butter on it. If I ever go crazy enough to want a husband and children, then only someone like John Watson is needed for marriage." This person was unlike anyone Sherlock Holmes had ever brought to Scotland Garden Records. Sally did not know how to read the biographies of people by the details of their appearance, but she never complained about her worldly instinct. He is something more. And he deserved a better partner than a freak.
And sparks of desire flashed in the eyes of John Watson when he looked at the gorgeous figure of Sally. He is not only interested in men. Or nothing shines for the freak because the anatomy is not the same. Sally smiled slightly at John Watson.
"Has he invited you to the little Italian restaurant at Angelo's?"
"I have to go to the shelter." John Watson went to the door.
Freak, to Sally's amazement, rushed after him. Well, to hell with both of them. All the same, she can't knock the song out of the freak, but here there is a really profitable product. And Sally smiled sweetly at the girl:
"Perhaps we should ask the holy father for permission to wash our faces? It would be helpful for me too. And then we'll have lunch in town and discuss the performance. We'll write the song ourselves, without the freak. And my pal is a great arranger."
The girl gasped in fright, took out a pocket mirror, and began to study her face.
" Dear God… And I was walking down the street like that?!"
"Oh, nothing terrible," said Sally. "But we should definitely go to the pub and thank the people for worrying about you. And to say to them that you will not get depressed because of the rubbish boys."
"Tim's songs belong to the group," the girl cried again. "And he wrote them only for me! To distract himself when I talked him into drug addiction treatment. Edwin and Bob had tried to write songs before, but they were mangy. Everyone wanted to run away. But I persuaded all of them to stay and try again! With new songs. And Tim's songs were wonderful! The group started moving up. And now Tim is dead, the band has a new drummer in his place, and the first thing he did was vote for me to be fired. And the whole group voted."
"You are playing the bass, right?" Any musician always recognises the specialisation of another musician at a glance; there is no need to be Sherlock Holmes. And Sally just took advantage of the pause in the girl's monologue to get her back on track. Finding a bass player isn't easy, and you have a slight time advantage. And if we do well on MTV of Britain, a lawyer at Scotland Garden Records will quickly get you a share of the band. Mrs. Turner is great at these things."
Interest appeared in the girl's eyes. MTV in Britain, with all its spin-offs, wasn't as into the silly reforms as its American parent and was still quite popular with the youth. Sally made the next move:
"Those stupid boys can vote until you are blue in the face for you don't play in their band, but they will pay you royalties on every penny the band earns, even if they will clean the lavatories in the pubs. And since finding a good songwriter is much more difficult than finding a bass player, the band will soon be heavily in debt. First and foremost, they owe you. And you can take the band into full ownership along with all the songs of Tim. You can kick out all those stupid boys and single-handedly recruit new musicians of your liking to give Tim's songs new life and all the success they deserve."
Oh, that was a bullseye shot! The determination on the girl's face became harder than stone. And Sally decided to consolidate the victory:
"Even all the songs of Edwin and Bob will be yours. They also belong to the band, not the guys, right?"
The girl nodded, and Sally said:
"If you want, the arrangers at Scotland Garden Records can bring them up to a level that can fill in a couple of missing tracks in your song album. The bung doesn't have to be talented; it needs to look decent enough to bring out the beauty of the lead singles."
And that was exactly what we needed! The young lady almost turned into a torch out of an ardent desire to quickly get down to business. So Sally will very soon take revenge on the freak for the fact that he never gave her a single song of his — even when they were lovers.
In addition, news about how Sally Donovan helped a beautiful victim of deception will soon be the topic of the day on the whole blogosphere and all social networks. And this will greatly increase not only Sally's popularity rating but also the sales of her songs.