Meeting the Match of Sherlock

Elementary, Sherlock

221B Baker Street.
Sherlock Holmes and Dr. John Watson were the most well known people in all of England. Everyone having unusual and intruiging cases always came to the high-functioning sociopath and the former soldier who invaded Afgahnistan. "Mrs. Hudson!"
Not a reply.
Sherlock expected the elder landlady to come on the flip of the dime. This time she didn't. Sherlock slightly raised an eyebrow, not being a man of much emotion. "Mrs. Hudson!"
John Watson looked out the window and saw a cabbie parked infront of the building. "Sherlock?" Watson asked.
The dark, curly haired sociopath looked at Watson and he moved to the window. They both locked eyes on the cabbie and saw a beautiful, young, wavy haired brunette with fair, pale skin, baby blue eyes, high cheekbones, a slender yet curvy body frame, a small, slender nose and a thin upper lip and a slightly plump bottom lip. She was wearing a black pencil skirt that went to her knees, a white button up, collared shirt with black 4 inch high heels, her side bangs parted to the left side of her face. Sherlock looked intensly at the young maiden, but he couldn't read her at all. The way that black pencil skirt hugged her hips and butt did raise a few questions for both Sherlock and John Watson. "So?" John asked Sherlock. Sherlock looked at his comrad and he said smoothly "So what?"
"Who is she? What's her backstory?" John asked, expecting her whole life story to be told so that he can expect something. Sherlock looked down at the maiden, then back at John and said "Nothing"
He then went to another case as John stood there, mindboggled. "I'm sorry, what was that?"
Sherlock kept staring at the case and he said "There's nothing on her"
"What? The great Sherlock Holmes can't figure out who is she?" John asked.
"It's a shock?" Sherlock asked, unphased by this sudden change.
John's eyes slightly widen and he shook his head as he said "Well of course it is you could usually read someone like a book and tell their whole life story to them and to myself before I even got the chance to meet them"
Sherlock looked at John. Then, John moved out of the way and Sherlock looked out the window once again and the young maiden wasn't out there anymore. Sherlock was puzzled, then he heard Mrs. Hudson's feet as she approached the flat. "Oh I'm sorry Sherlock I was helping a very lovely young woman moved into the flat downstairs"
"Did she tell you anything about herself?" John asked.
"Oh not much" Mrs. Hudson said. "Just that's she's only 24 years old and her name is Storm"
"Storm?" Sherlock asked curiously. Then, he went and grabbed his jacket. "Who would name their child 'Storm'?" He asked himself as he put on his jacket. "Storm that's a very unusual name especially for a girl" john said to Mrs. Hudson. "Oh I agree but she's a very lovely young woman. Looks very elegant for a woman her age, also I think Sherlock could take an interest in her too"
Then, Sherlock pulled out his phone and he texted someone
Storm Hutcherson, I presume?
-SH
It didn't take long for him to get a response
Sherlock Holmes, I presume?
He quickly typed out his response
You seem like someone that could quite possibly be hard to read
-SH
Storm didn't bother responding to Sherlock's text messages. So he sent her another one
Or one who is very headstrong and ignorant
-SH
Then he felt his phone vibrate and he opened another text from Storm.
You seem very intruiged about me, Mr. Holmes?

Not intruiged, curious
-SH

There's not much of a difference to the high functioning sociopath of England, is there?

How did you know about that?
-SH

If convenient, come to my flat

A few seconds later he recieved another text.
If inconvenient, come anyway

Sherlock looked down at the text messages Storm had sent him. Of course he was intruiged. Intruiged to uncover who this young woman was. So he bellowed "Mrs. Hudson! I'll be out. Set my tea on the table for me thank you!"
Then, he left the flat.
Actually come meet me at the coffee shop. I'd much rather a public meeting
"This woman" he mumbled to himself. Then he put his phone away and he went to the coffee shop. It was a warm September morning and Sherlock was the one who was chasing a woman around the town. "Unbelieveable" he muttered under his breath. Then he made his way into the coffee shop, where Storm was waiting for him. She was stiring her coffee with a straw with her french tip manicured hands. She looked up and she gave Sherlock a smile. Even her smile he couldn't read and it frustrated her. So, he sat down and he still had the infamous scowl on his face. "Hello Storm" he said.
"Sherlock" Storm said simply. She crossed her right leg over her left leg and Sherlock was still trying to read her.
Storm looked at him and with a smirk she said "Trying to read me like you always read people, are you Mr. Holmes?"
"I have my ways of reading people but somehow you seem to be a closed book" Sherlock said absently.
Storm chuckled and she said "That's what happens"
"You tend to hide things for your own sick game?" Sherlock asked emotionless and yet curious at the same time. Storm looked into his electric blue eyes and she said "No sick game, just for my own protection"
Sherlock gave Storm a weird yet emotionless look. "Why are you here, Ms. Hutcherson?" He asked.
Storm smirked and then she stood up and said "I'll leave that to your imagination"
Then, she left the coffee shop and Sherlock Holmes in confusion.