Disclaimer: I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh! Nor do I own Batman. I just noticed that Kaiba is a lot like Bruce Wayne, and decided to run with this story. So sue me (on second thought please don't)!

Author's Note: First off I'd like to thank SheepAteMyFanBoys, Suma-dragon's child, and akira45 for their reviews. Now let's celebrate 10 chapters *throws confetti* Next, I'd like to announce that Yugi will be appearing soon. Yeah, he's gonna come in fashionably late. Plus, another character that I've already introduced will reappear with a much bigger role. Stay tuned!

"Blast!"

Rupert Dartz slammed his fist down on his polished walnut desk. "How much did he take me for this time?"

Dartz glowered at the three men who faced him. At his side, Mai leaned back against the wall, buffing her nails as she watched the interaction from beneath her long lashes. "I think the figure Valon mentioned was two hundred thousand." She lifted her eyes to the hood in the middle. "Wasn't that it, Valon?"

"Y-yeah, boss," Valon Cree confirmed nervously. "What she said."

Dartz heaved himself up from behind the desk and paced the hardwood floor of his office, muttering unintelligibly. His henchmen gave him a wide berth as he passed. Plastered on the wall behind him was a series of recent newspaper clippings. The headlines shouted: TWO-FACE HITS DARTZ AGAIN, TWO-MONTH REIGN OF TERROR, TWO-FACE TOTAL APPROACHES TWO MILLION.

A red-headed crook shook his head in wonder. "I thought we got rid of this guy."

"Are you kidding?" Mai laughed mockingly. "We created him."

Dartz seized a silver letter opening lying on the blotter on his desk. With a savage swing of his long arms he stabbed the implement into one of the clippings, dead center in a blurred photo of his two-sided enemy. When he removed his hand, the letter opener remained embedded in the wall.

"Two months of this is long enough!" Dartz lowered himself back into his chair and leaned forward, both hands on the blotter. He glanced at his wristwatch. "It's getting late," he growled. "Valon, get the car. Ralph, round up the other guys. We'll deal with that freak later. Right now, we've got urgent business at the old Linebarger Storage warehouse over on the corner of Smith and Cordwainer."

An eerie light flickered past the windows of the run-down warehouse, the only source of light other than a sickly greenish streetlamp in the entire deserted shopping district. Inside, the hand-held flashlight barely kept the brooding shadows at bay in the enormous room. An errant bat flittered down above the heads of two of Dartz's hoods and they ducked uneasily.

"Jeez, I hate this place!"

"You and me both." The red-headed hood's name was Alister. He was using a crowbar to pry the tops off of several wooden crates. "Hold that light steady, will ya, Valon? He wiped sweat from his forehead. "I don't know why we gotta do this kinda work in the middle of the flippin' night."

Echoing footsteps sounded in the darkness, and Valon wheeled, shining his flashlight toward the center of the room. "Jeez!"

"And maybe you'd prefer moving contraband in broad daylight when the cops would be sure to notice." Rupert Dartz stepped forward, squinting in the bright light. He was dressed elegantly in an immaculate white suit under a pearl-gray overcoat. Three more hoods waited at his back.

"Jeez, boss," Valon whined, "you shouldn't oughtta sneak up on guys like that!"

Dartz gestured at the crates. "Just get that stuff loaded," he ordered. He glanced uneasily from side to side and pulled the collar of the overcoat up higher around his neck. "I never did like this place."

Suddenly a white brilliance flooded the interior of the building, as the windows were swept with the blinding glare of floodlights.

"This is the police!" boomed an amplified voice. "We have you surrounded! Come out with your hands up!"

Dartz moved swiftly to the nearest window and peered carefully around the frame. Police cars surrounded the building, their red and blue lights strobing on their roofs. Searchlights swept the storage building.

"Aw, man…" Valon groaned and turned to the thug next to him. "Whatta they call it when you feel like you been someplace before?"

The smaller man shrugged unhappily, eyes on the probing lights. "Trouble," he said. "Double trouble."

Dartz flattened himself against the wall as a light swept past. "I can't be seen here!" he hissed to his henchmen. "Hold 'em off!" He ran past Valon and Alister, who stared at each other, the wrestled wicked-looking black guns free of their long coats.

Dartz dodged through shadowy corridors of stacked crates, his eyes on a ladder fastened to the far wall. As he set his polished shoe on the bottom rung a vast splintering sound came from the warehouse.

The doors burst inward, their remains ground beneath the treads of an armored half-track vehicle with DOMINO POLICE stenciled in yellow on its side. Shots rang out as Valon and Alister emptied their revolvers futilely at the huge machine.

Dartz turned his attention back to the ladder and hauled himself upward. A spotlight beam swept the wall inches beneath his foot as he wrenched a trapdoor open and squeezed out onto the dark roof of the building.

The rooftop was host to a huge, industrial air-conditioning unit, a metal monster that sprawled its pips and ventilating units over the tarmac like the tentacles of a mechanical octopus. Steam vented in here and there among its limbs. Dartz tilted his head at the sounds of gunfire and shouts from below. "I definitely never liked this place," he muttered.

Then something large and black swooped high above his head. He ducked and fired his gun into the night, then turned and ran heavily to the other side of the roof. Sounds of battle continued from the street as Dartz waved his gun nervously, his eyes flickering left and right.

"C'mon!" he shouted. "You're not takin' Rupert Dartz without a fight!" He wheeled about and froze, his jaw hanging open.

A shadowy, bat-winged silhouette stood in the exhalation from one of the vents, the edges of the long black cape lifting and falling eerily in the steam.

"You!" Dartz raised his gun and fired three times in rapid succession at the dark silhouette. "If I gotta go down, I'm takin' you with me!" But the dark figure had already disappeared into the tangle of pipes and vents. Dartz backed toward the edge of the roof, his gaze darting from shadow to shadow. He fired again, then lowered the gun and peered unsteadily into the chaos of steam and darkness. Behind him a winged shadow rose silently.

Commissioner Mahado was setting his shoulder against the trapdoor just as a wail of surprise and fear came from the rooftop. The cry was cut off abruptly.

Mahado heaved against the door. It gave way and he climbed cautiously out onto the roof. The young tri-haired man at his back stepped into the lead, while following Mahado came a Latino woman in police blues, and a spiky haired man wearing a brown trench coat.

"Careful, Yami!" Mahado put his hand on the young man's arm. "Dartz won't give up without a fight. Taylor, Montoya - fan out!" The four officers separated and moved out across the roof, guns drawn.

"Don't make this hard on yourself, Dartz!" Yami Mason moved forward warily, his eyes trying to penetrate the tangle of pipes and shadows. "We know you're up here. Now step out where we can see you!"

There was a snarl of inarticulate rage, then a sullen voice called back: "Not even if I could, flatfoot!"

Yami looked back at Mahado in surprise. Then Officer Renee Montoya pointed to a huddled shape lying at the base of the air-conditioning unit. "Look!"

Detective Tristan Taylor was nearest to the machine. When he ducked under the branching metal pipes he found Rupert Dartz glaring up at him, the crime boss securely trussed in coils of thin rope. The pointy headed detective scratched his chin. "Well, I'll be…"

The four remoistened their weapons and gathered around the captive Dartz. "That's service for you, huh, Yami?" Mahado slapped his deputy on the back with a wide grin. "Not only does he catch 'em for us - sometimes he even gift wraps 'em!"

Author's Note: Again... Yay! 10 chapters! I'm so happy! Remember reviews are me bread and butter, which is ironic because I don't like toast... with or without cinnamon. Still review :P

Cazuuki