DI Gregory Lestrade hated having to deal with a stiff before he'd had a decent cup of coffee. It was six in the morning, he was up since four thirty and coffee still eluded him somehow. On top of that he stood in one of the endless tunnels the Tube occupied, with the beheaded remains of a man almost under his feet.

Two very tired officers from forensics were trying to find what little evidence was there to find in the artificial light that illuminated the crime scene. Ever so often a flash from the camera would shed even more light on the corpse, making the scene look like something from a horror film.

The DI was just wondering when his colleague from British Transport Police could be bothered to show up when Mycroft Holmes' soft "Good morning, Gregory!" jolted him from his gloom. As usual the Politician was groomed and dressed to perfection. Although he probably had gotten even less sleep than the Inspector, he looked disgustingly well rested at this ungodly hour.

Lestrade ran a hand over his face, feeling the stubble from his unshaved chin scratching the palm of his hand. "Mycroft!" He gave the man a nod. "What brings you down here?"

"Apparently this man is one of our employees." He pointed with the tip of his umbrella at the dead body.

"Um, maybe then you could wait for the chap from BTP and I can go home to catch a few hours of sleep, a shower and breakfast?" The only reward for the DI's attempted humour was a slight tilt of Mycroft's head and a questioningly raised eyebrow.

"Sorry, I'm late." James Warner from BTP materialised behind both men.

"About time!" Lestrade exclaimed.

Forensics just finished their work, packing away their materials and evidence before moving away from the body.

"Dangerous place, these intersections," Warner said. He waved in the general direction of not less than five tracks that ran parallel, disappearing in three different tunnels.

Lestrade shook his head. "One of your carriages didn't do this to him."

"Cars!" Warner corrected him.

"Fine, cars, carriages, whatever." Lestrade flapped his hands in annoyance. "He was probably killed around two in the morning. The wound looks as if the head had been hacked off with a large and very sharp object. Maybe a sword."

"A ninja then," Warner concluded.

The Inspector looked around for Mycroft Holmes, expecting the man to be rolling his eyes at the remark. He saw him crouched down in the trackbed furthest from the body, inspecting something he had discovered lying there.

At that very moment Lestrade felt the current of air on his face. There should be no traffic on the track line. They should have been all blocked. Should have been...

The rumbling of a fast approaching train could be heard clearly now. "Mycroft!" Lestrade shouted. The politician looked straight ahead at the train, like the proverbial rabbit in the headlights. The sudden light made it impossible to figure out on which track the train was approaching.

Without hesitation, Lestrade made a dash for the Government official. Just moments before a train passed, he slammed into Mycroft with his full weight, sending them both into an exceptionally large niche in the wall at the back of the tunnel. The train roared past them, showering both men with dust and dirt.

Neither of the men moved. Mycroft Holmes was pressed to the ground rather uncomfortably, some objects digging painfully into his back. Lestrade had bruised his hands when he had thrown himself and Mycroft to the ground, but was now lying cushioned from the hard ground on top of the Politician. Both men's hearts were racing, their breath ragged against each others necks. They trembled from adrenalin and the shock of this rather close call.

"Oh my god, are you alright?" Warner suddenly was there, helping both men to get up. Let's get out of here. The tracks should all have been closed down."

A few minutes later they stood on the platform of the nearest station, taking stock. Mycroft Holmes' suit was beyond saving, but beside that, only his ego had suffered bruising. In contrast the DI's hands were bleeding, the left leg of his trousers was torn and his left knee was hurting badly. And he hadn't even had any coffee yet.