The man behind the counter was about 5'6 give or take, sandy blond hair, soft faced, green-eyed, and tanned skin. The job he worked at seemed very fitting for his outward appearance, but Sherlock knew that had nothing to do with why he was here. He was neither close to the other woman working in the shop, but he still seemed to converse and talk with her in friendly, understanding way. They definitely weren't strangers and judging by their similar appearances, they must be siblings.

With the possibilities of them being siblings, why would they work at the same place? They weren't incredibly close so must be a family business, neither seem very enthusiastic; only doing what was necessary. Using the gathered information Sherlock deduced they were more or less forced or expected to work here. Why? An over bearing father, maybe a consequence for something they did, Sherlock wasn't positive so that's why he stayed.

This was what he had called 'The science of deduction'. It was such a science that relied on observational skills, human psychology, and obvious facts. The curly-haired man usually found no interest in silly boardwalk shops such as this one; he was in better words, exercising his brain. His brother Mycroft had somehow managed to drag him into a 'family bonding vacation'. Sherlock wanted to vomit just thinking about it.

So in order to take his mind off of his family, he decided to go and try to deduce as many people as he could whilst keeping count and trying to beat the time from before. The sandy-haired man was no different from anyone else, there was just an emptiness from him. Facts were missing, his story hadn't come as easily. He also felt compelled somehow to know this man, or everything he could gather.

Sherlock had come into the shop, but had never seen this man. His sister, yes. He already deduced a while ago she was a homosexual drunkard; piece of cake. Sherlock had to admit though, he was curious about the brother. This was almost like a reality television show to Sherlock; with a glance unfolding their lives like an origami figure until they were fully exposed.

Sherlock was too busy in his thoughts to realize how creepy he looked staring at the employee.

"Hey Johnny," Harry whispered and poked annoyingly at his sides.

"What is it Harriet?" He only ever addressed her as Harriet when she was bothering him.

"Mr. Curly-head over there, has been ogling you for the past fifteen minutes," She shoved a finger towards a tall customer who indeed had very curly hair.

"What do you intend me to do?" John shifted uncomfortably. He really wasn't in the mood for another hook up. Not saying he wasn't up to it, but he really needed sleep.

"Just thought I'd notify you, I mean I never knew someone would already take a liking to you this fast," She smirked. John huffed a rather loud sigh and half-stomped, half-strode over to the man.

Sherlock stared as the man who he'd been watching previously, walked up to him. "May I help you sir?" He smiled obviously trying to hide his discomfort and failing to do so. Expressionless Sherlock observed him more closely; he had bags under his eyes and veins in them showing he had had little sleep. Most likely due to stress, the man didn't look like the 'stay out all night and party' type. His hair was clean cut and as were his face, he took care of himself just not his beauty sleep.

He wore a cheesy shirt from the shop that said 'cool story, bro', shorts that looked over three years old, and ripped flip flops. He probably didn't have much money, but he had enough to look decent enough. His face was pale and his arms thin. He was malnourished, probably due to the previous observation of lack of money. He must live alone due to the comment on the string of relationships his sister made and the comment of his now ex-boyfriend going to the flat. He looked early twenties, maybe even 19 due to the summer job. He knew of no man older than 25 working in some ridiculous clothing store such as this one.

That still didn't explain why. Why was he working here? Out of desperation for money? That wasn't the main reason, why would his sister be here too? Sherlock decided to take a shot in the dark.

"May I speak with the manager?" Sherlock said calmly. The employee looked confused at the question and slightly bothered, "There is none currently, but I can solve any prob-"

"Alright, may I ask of your name?" Sherlock said, interrupting him.

"John Watson, but I really have no idea why tha-"

"That's right!" Sherlock exclaimed quite triumphantly. "Your father is dead!"

"What?"

"You're the son of Aaron and Delia Watson; Harriet Watson over there is your sister. Aaron and his brother, the owner of this store, passed away in a car crash several months ago, I noticed it in the paper. That might explain why you joined the staff of this shop, you want to contribute out of heart, right? Not at all, considering how much effort you put into your work, you couldn't care less, your sister most likely feels the same. Why then? You were forced, or for better words guilt into it. But you don't seem like the family type, considering your string of relationships. So you couldn't have just been guilted, there was another reason too. You need money. Your eyes reveal your stressed over all of this and your body shows malnutrition, it's a given you live alone, as proven by your previous boyfriend."

John stood there wordless. He wasn't sure if he should call the man an intruding dick, or fucking brilliant. John decided to go with the option that would least get him in trouble.

"Spot on... but h-how...?"

"The science of deduction!" his eyes twinkled.

"B-brilliant."

"Really?" The taller man looked completely surprised by his comment.

"Well, yeah..."

"That isn't what people normally say..."

"What do they say?"

"Piss off," John wasn't surprised.