A/N: From here on in it gets a bit more AU for Torchwood. I own nothing.

As they strode up towards the woods, Jack scrutinised Sherlock. Disturbingly Timelord like personality apart, this man reminded him strongly of someone. He just couldn't pin it down... Aha, that was it. It sort of made sense now he thought about it.

"Hey Sherlock, do you have a brother called Mycroft?" Jack asked

"Unfortunately, yes I do." Was Sherlock's brisk response.

Jack began to chuckle gently, then he burst into full blown laughter as he entered the clearing, earning disapproving looks from the team and a bemused look from Sherlock. Watson just shook his head, guessing the source of Jacks amusement. When he saw the mangled body, he sobered up. He would find out how the strange and brilliant man next to him was kith and kin to the most powerful man in the country, ruler in all but name. He made the necessary introductions, pointing out each team member as he introduced them.

"This is Owen Harper our medic, Toshiko Sato our tech genius, Gwen Cooper our police liaison and Ianto Jones, general support and person in charge of making sure we don't mess all our kit up." Each team member gave a variation on a greeting, Owen merely grunted, Gwen nodded slightly warily, Tosh smiled, and Ianto nodded politely.

"Team, this is Sherlock Holmes, the world's only consulting detective, sharp as a tack, and younger brother of that man at the home office, Mycroft, the one who actually runs the country, and Dr Watson, former army medic in Afghanistan."

Sherlock gave the barest of nods, more interested in Gwen and Owen, looking from one to the other with a look that he had last worn when he had implied that Anderson and Sergeant Sally Donavan were having an affair. Watson nodded in acknowledgment, smiled politely and as Sherlock opened his mouth, Watson snapped his hand out still smiling, covering Sherlock's mouth, who to his great surprise subsided. Gwen looked gratefully at Watson and mouthed 'Thank you' at him when everyone else was looking away.

"He always does that I'm afraid." Watson whispered apologetically. "He's very observant and a sociopath so he doesn't think about the effect of what he says and he lacks a complete moral compass but he's a good man. I think. Oh, he knew your boss was immortal almost as soon as we met him."

Gwen's eyes widened. "Don't tell anyone that!" She hissed. "Jack keeps it under wraps, I only know because I saw him shot in the head. He does die, just not for very long; he comes back to life within about 30 seconds see." John looked taken aback, then nodded. It made sense. If it was him he would hardly wish to broadcast the fact he was immortal.

"John, come over here, I want you to examine the body." Sherlock called.

"Oi, I've already examined it." Owen broke in irritably as Watson wandered over.

"So?" Sherlock said dismissively "John, what have you got?" he asked, as Owen stood dumbfounded, with the rest of the team sniggering at his expense. No one had talked to Dr Owen Harper like that for a very long time.

"Nothing yet, but if you would give me a moment to have a look I might find something." Was Watson's testy reply. Honestly, he thought, he expects me to see everything in a matter of seconds, just like he does. Not all of us are high functioning sociopaths, he thought at Sherlock reproachfully as he knelt down to examine the body, accepting a pair of surgical gloves from Owen gratefully.

The body was an absolute mess, he thought. Even the Taliban at their most ruthless had never done anything like this. Not that he had seen or heard about anyway. The flesh had been stripped from the bone and internal organs had been removed, effectively leaving only the skeleton. Wait, what was that? He looked closer. Nicks, almost certainly from a knife, a large one, so probably a cleaver. He wanted another opinion on this, because what it suggested was horrible. Something, or god forbid, someone was hunting humans as prey. He beckoned Owen over. The Londoner walked over, still vaguely irritated at being dismissed by Sherlock.

"What?" He asked with a tinge of impatience. More than anything else he disliked the idea that the older man, albeit one with extensive combat experience, had spotted something he had missed. Watson pointed mutely at the faint marks. Owen squinted at them for a moment then his eyes widened and he looked up at Watson's enquiring face. A moment of understanding passed between the two doctors.

"Jack, Sherlock, come over here a sec." Owen said, still staring grimly at the mutilated cadaver.

The two men exchanged a brief look, then crouched down next to the body. Owen pointed to the nicks.

"These look like someone has taken a knife of some sort to the body." Owen said grimly.

"And that suggests that someone or something is hunting humans for the meat." Watson finished.

Sherlock looked at the nicks with evident interest, then said, "Have you got any form of identification?"

"No, we would have to wait until we got DNA test results back." Jack said heavily.

"Hmm, well whatever your killer is, they act like a human. These disappearances have been happening every ten years. The fact they haven't been investigated suggests some collusion with the police. Lestrade did say the report had been archived in Cardiff and it only came to light because the police were digitising the reports." Sherlock said thoughtfully, causing Jack to turn his head like an owl on a turntable.

"We didn't know that." Jack said sharply, looking at Gwen who looked askance at the thought of the level of the cover up on such a scale among her former colleagues. Owen covered up the body again to protect it from flies and the like. Jack turned to Gwen to ask her about this when all further avenues of enquiry were temporarily cut off as the distinctive noise of the SUV coming to life was heard. Everyone raced down to where the SUV had been left. They arrived just in time to see Torchwoods pride, joy and more importantly, only method of transport leave the scene, with the unknown driver having just destroyed the camp.

When Sherlock and Watson arrived on the scene, recriminations were being handed out, with Tosh, the techie speaking furiously to Owen who was asking her irritably to leave it out, while Ianto was fiddling with a PDA. Once he had finished, he said that the SUV was in fact 3.4 miles away and was parked.

"This has all the hallmarks of a trap," Tosh said worriedly.

"And we're going to walk into it anyway." Watson said resignedly. "We still have the hire car." He said, gesturing vaguely at the Ford that was parked next to the road.

"Oh no." Owen said firmly. "I would rather walk." He added emphatically.

"Go ahead Owen. More room for the rest of us." Tosh said sweetly, as everyone trudged towards the car. Owen glared after her half heartedly, then followed. Unfortunately the car was quite small which meant that even with two people sitting in the middle (Gwen and Tosh) someone had to sit on someone else's lap. Jack's lap to be precise. As Watson had collared the driver's seat and Sherlock had taken the front passenger seat and Ianto one of the rear passenger seats, only Owen was left unseated. Grumbling, he sat down gingerly on Jacks lap, then as the doors shut and Watson started the ignition, he said in a warning tone, "Harkness, if you get a hard on while I'm sitting here, I will castrate you."

"Why, of course darling." Jack replied caustically, "For your sake, I shall try not to get excited."

As all the occupants of the car, Sherlock excepted, roared with laughter, Watson started driving the car off the grassy verge. About 5 minutes later, the inevitable happened. Owen screeched and leapt sideways off of Jacks lap, smashing his head against the car roof and landing across the backseat with his face in Ianto's crotch, who said calmly, "Owen, remove your face from my groin now or suffer the consequences."

Owen, who had been dazed by his collision with the roof, jack knifed suddenly, hitting the roof again, though this time he ended up sitting in Gwen's lap. Jack and Watson considered this to be hilarious, the girls were slightly shocked, Ianto was impossible to read, Sherlock was shaking his head in disbelief, and Owen was scowling and rubbing his head.