He hated doing this. Too much scrambling, too many loud sounds. The tedious nature or normal people was surrounding him; he couldn't escape. Or rather, he chose not to. Not that it mattered. He was having his own fun, deducing and inferring based on little tells the people he observed left behind.
"Stop doing that," said John, lugging several bags while Sherlock winced, jutting his eyes around.
"You look like a hyena; people are staring."
"Well, I'm perfectly fine with that, since I'm staring right back," Sherlock replied with a light grin. He closely surveyed the area and learned some pretty interesting, if not peculiar stories. A tall man, a tired look in his eyes. Yellow fingernails, longtime smoker. A mark on the left side of his neck; mostly likely from being an avid violinist. Had a very smooth stride, possibly was in marching band earlier in his life. Eh, the fun wasn't in the normals. The mass murderers, the arsonists, the burglars, those were where all the entertainment was.
"Sherlock, can you hear me?" John pestered.
"Of course I can, you asked why we needed so many leather jackets. Two of them are for controls to test effects of corrosive roach spray on them."
John raised his eyebrow in confusion. "But there are three here."
"Yes," Sherlock said before John had quite finished his sentence. "One of them is for you. It wasn't a coincidence that I got them all in your size."
John smirked as his face was tinted with a soft crimson hue. "That was rather nice of you."
"Yes, well, you're my friend. Also, you look fine." Sherlock faced forward, avoiding obnoxious women offering massagers at kiosks. "You look at the windows when we walk by them and look forward once you pass the door. Obviously you're looking to see how you look in the reflection, and you look fine. Very handsome, I might even say."
John looked away, absolutely beaming. What a 'friendly' gesture.