A/N: Standard Disclaimers Apply

Chapter One: Losers

"All right Arthur, we've been through this more times than I really care to count."

I've always hoped that Dr. Light would one day get tired of getting his butt kicked and hang it up, but he's addicted to the life. I saw it in his eyes even before he powered his gauntlets. He may have been a loser, but he loved being a bad guy. It was the usual. Light used his tech to blast open the vault of one of the downtown banks and help himself to other people's money. But this time, he had two hostages: the two rent-a-cops that tried to make names for themselves.

We faced off in the bank's lobby, with the lights of the Jump City MetWAT flashing behind us. Cy stood at my left, Kory floated overhead and Beast Boy had become a growling Rottweiler. I didn't need to look for Raven, I knew exactly where she was.

"This time will be different, Nightwing. You Titans will know the vengeance of Doctor Light!"

"Take this idiot down," I growled softly.

Everyone struck with absolute precision. Cy and Star used their ranged attacks to cover Rae. She 'ported in and rescued the security guards while Gar and I charged Light. Twenty-three seconds later, Dr. Light was bagged, tagged, and ready to turn over to Jump City's finest.

"Booyah!" Cy exclaimed. "Who wants some grub? There's a great little dive around the block. My treat."

"Does this place have more on the menu than just salads, bro?" Beast Boy asked. "You know the last three places you took us to were just carnivore hang outs."

"Yanno, that reminds me of something I saw on a tee shirt, Greenie. 'Vegetarian is an Indian word for Bad Hunter.'"

"Yeah, that was for a barbeque place, Buckethead!"

I rolled my eyes and took a short, snorting breath. By now, we were pretty numb to Vic's and Gar's banter about food. They were best friends, so they had to find everything under the sun to argue about.

"You two argue like an old married couple," Raven spat in her monotone I've-had-enough-of-you-pinheads voice.

"Yes, I believe the term is… 'Get a room?'" Kory piled on.

I pushed Dr. Light into the waiting arms of the JCPD. He was still muttering about how he's get us next time, but by now, I toned him totally out. Light, Control Freak, Fang, it was Losers Week at Jump City. I almost wished that Slade would crawl out of whatever hole he was hiding in. Almost.

"Nightwing?"

I turned and looked at an attractive, young female police detective. She wore a grey suit with a neutral shirt underneath, her badge hung on a lanyard around her neck, and her mousy brown hair was pulled into a tight ponytail. I glanced down to her badge to confirm what I already knew. Her name was Sergeant Eileen MacDonald, Homicide Division. She smoked, Kool Menthols, and, from the glint in her brown eyes, she was here on business.

"What can I help you with, Detective?"

…..

I watched MacDonald step out of her precinct and indulge in a cigarette. She used the alley exit which had become the unofficial smoker's lounge since Jump City's smoking ban went into effect several years ago. I found a shadowy spot under a fire escape, and my black uniform blended in perfectly.

"Those things will kill you," I said from the shadows.

Call it wrong, but I always liked that initial jump that people always did when I decided to reveal my location. Thanks, Bruce. MacDonald stepped back and thought about reaching for her piece.

I vaulted off the wall and flipped my way down to her.

"Don't do that," she ordered.

"Old habits die hard," I said grinning. "So what did you want to see me about?"

She handed me a three manila file folders dated from earlier in the year. I opened them up and flipped through the pages.

"That one's name was Rebecca Tolberson, sixteen, sophomore at Perez High. Honor student. Went missing six days before her body was found."

I looked at the crime scene photos. I'd seen enough live scenes to keep my lunch down, but this made my stomach lurch. I opened the next folder.

"Yvonne Michaels. Eighteen. Freshman at Jump City Community. Gone for nine days."

The last folder had Tracy Wollencraft, a twenty-two year old prostitute. The connection was already obvious. They were all petite, pale, and brunette. But that wasn't the worst part. Their foreheads had make shift stones melted into their flesh and they were all found in black leotards and in blue capes. I listened numbly as MacDonald went on in gory detail how the girls were drugged, bound, possibly raped, mutilated, strangled, and then dressed up like dolls.

"I thought you'd want to know," MacDonald said between puffs. "Of course, your help on this would be appreciated."

"Thanks, MacDonald, I'll be in touch."

I can't remember how I got back to the tower, but I did. Star met me at the door and kissed me softly.

"What is it?" she asked.

I took a deep breath and lied, "Nothing."

I stepped past her and went straight to my room, locking the door behind me.