It was a lazy night at Baker Street for John Watson. Mycroft had dragged Sherlock away to visit their parents. Sherlock had put up a fight, but he had no case so eventually Mycroft won. They would be gone for the entire evening.
John had taken this opportunity to relax and watch a movie he had not seen in years; The Sound of Music. He put the DVD in the player and was soon transported back to 1930s Austria, the world of Fraulein Maria and the Von Trapp children. He tapped his toe along with each of his favourite songs and in spite of himself found himself laughing at the same lines that made him laugh all the other dozens of times that he had seen the film.
As he neared the end of the film and the children were getting ready to perform at the music festival concert, John found he was hungry and needed a snack. Without pausing the film – he had seen it dozens of times, after all – he got up and lumbered over the kitchen, putting the kettle on and then getting out a couple slices of bread and a jar of jam. He put the bread in the toaster and pressed down the lever.
As he poured the boiling water over the tea, he heard Captain Von Trapp's voice sailing into the kitchen.
"…a drink with jam and bread!" and then the children responding "A drink with jam and bread! Jam and bread, with jam and bread, tea with jam and bread!"
John took a knife and began spreading the jam onto the bread in time to the music and singing along.
"Jam and bread, tea with jam, jam and bread!" Spread spread. "Jam and bread, tea with jam, jam and bread!" Spread spread.
He raised the toast and spun around, vocalizing loudly as the end of the song built.
"Tea with jam and bread! With jam and bread with jam with jam and breeeeeaaaad!"
He tried to hold the note as long as the Von Trapps, but he fell short a few beats. When he opened his eyes at the end of the song, he took a bite out of his jam-covered toast to the sound of the audience applauding the family singers.
When he looked up, Sherlock was standing in the doorway of the kitchen, a rather surprised expression on his face.
John stood there for a moment in embarrassment, not daring to move, before taking his mug in one hand and his plate of toast in the other and walking back into the living room.
"Just having a bite," he said, leaving Sherlock to contemplate on his own the horror that was John Watson when he was left alone.