Another little one-shot. Sherlock uses all of John's beloved jam for an experiment and this is the result. I'm aware Dr. Watson isn't this obsessed with jam, but I thought this would be funny XD so here goes!
John Watson came home to his flat at 221B to a horrid sight. An awful sinking feeling congealed and the pit of his stomach and he gulped down the sick feeling. This was utterly terrible. An atrocity of nature and an abhorrent experience no blessed human being should ever have to endure.
Things seemed normal around the flat to the casual observer: papers and miscellaneous junk were scattered in what a certain flatmate considered 'organized chaos', an experiment was being conducted in the defiled kitchen by said flatmate, and there was an unnerving lack of noise in the residence. Everything was normal. Except for one thing. One monumentous thing.
There wasn't any jam.
"Sherlock, what have you done with the jam?!" John exclaimed, picking up the very empty jam jar next to Sherlock's elbow that formerly resided on the overly cluttered kitchen table.
"I needed it for my experiment." He replied in a flat voice, not looking up nor greeting his friend after his long day at the clinic.
"Whatever for?!" John's voice went up half an octave.
"I'm studying the effects of fructose in yeast bacteria." was his only reply as he kept switching between his microscope and a petri dish.
"So you had to use all the jam?" John examined the almost entirely empty jar. The sides and bottom were still colored in the translucent pink sweet, other than that the previously half-full jar had been sacrificed towards the recreational whims of Sherlock's entertainment.
"Well I needed it for a lubricant as well," he explained, taking the jar back from his flatmate, sticking his fingers in and spreading it over the belt of some mystery mechanism on the far end of the table.
John jaw hit the floor. After a moment the doctor more or less recovered from the trauma of watching his precious jam being defiled, he began to sputter.
"Close your mouth John, it's unattractive and for once you may be right about the toxic fumes you're always ranting about. Try to breathe shallowly." Sherlock deadpanned, unfazed by his flatmate's reaction. John clapped his mouth shut and flushed in slight embarrassment and anger at Sherlock's actions. He noticed for the first time the overburdened tea kettle steaming in excitement on the much abused stove.
"Fine." He replied curtly after a moment of silence. "Fine. It's not like you respect any of my other things, might as well use all of Watson's jam as well while I'm at it! Is that what goes through your head?!" John nearly shouted, becoming more bemused by the second.
"John…" Sherlock rumbled tiredly, unengaged in the one-sided petty argument.
Throwing a tantrum, the doctor pulled his coat back on and grabbed his keys, "I'm going to the store to get more. And it isn't for you!" he said sourly, opening the door, about to leave.
"Get more milk while you're out," the consulting detective requested, making John groan loudly. Half a second later the door of the flat slammed closed and Sherlock could hear the stamping of the other man's feet as he stormed down the stairs and then another door slam and a rhetorical inquiry made by Mrs. Hudson.
A smile tugged at the corner of Sherlock's mouth. Definitely worth it.
A/N: if you have any complaints about John's reactionary character, refer to header please