Eric slowly trudged his way up the concrete steps, the heavy stomping of his hooves echoing loudly throughout the stairwell. His legs felt wobbly and weak from the constant climbing between the rooftop and bottom floor, his arms burned from carrying heavy boxes and bags, such as the one currently over his shoulder, and thanks to the thick coat of wool he had neglected to shear for several months, heatstroke was quickly becoming a concern.

He stopped mid-way through his climb and set down the bag, giving his limbs a much-needed rest. His eyes traveled downward toward the sack resting on the steps. After glancing around to make sure nobody was watching, he untied the rope around the neck of the sack, and peered inside, a gleeful smile spreading across his face. Earrings, necklaces, rings, and bracelets, all made of glittering gold and precious gems; worth more than enough to buy him that penthouse in Sahara Square he had his eyes on for all these years. Energized with the thought of his happy ending, Eric slung the sack back over his shoulder, and continued his trek toward the top of the stairs with renewed vigor.

Another four stories later, Eric reached the rooftop access. He opened the door, and the cool, crisp air of the night filled his nostrils. It wasn't nearly as gratifying as the anticipation of his impending payday, but he appreciated it nonetheless. The rooftop was too high up to be lit by the streetlights dotting the downtown district, so the only illumination he had as he walked outside was a dim, flickering light fixated directly above the door. Despite the dark, he successfully made his way to the modest pile of bags and boxes he had been assembling the entire night, and dropped the sack of jewelry on top.

"That's the last of it," he sighed contently. "Still no sign of the Fuzz, Bruce?"

"Not a single patrol the whole night." Jumping away from the guardrail facing the street below, a skinny, scruffy-looking cat with sandy fur walked up next to Eric and sat down on top of one of the boxes. "Not that I'm complainin' or anythin'; makes our jobs easier, but it's weird, y'know? Normally they're swarmin' downtown around this time o'night."

"Like I said, they're busy in Tundra Town," Eric said. "Falcone and Big tend to make a lot of noise during their 'disputes'."

"Heh, I might be startin' to enjoy this little gang war," Bruce said. "Cops're thinnin' out the competition, competition's thinnin' out the cops, and while everyone's distracted with tryin' to kill each other, we can do whatever we want! Those brochures don't lie, Ramdomski; Zootopia is a wonderful place!"

"Then let's get all this loaded up in the van before they're done," Eric said, picking up a relatively small, but still quite sizable box and presenting it to the cat. "Stick with the smaller stuff like these rings. Don't want you breaking anything fragile."

"I'm not gonna' break anythin', you-" Bruce dropped to the ground the second Eric let go of the box. He struggled to his feet, still trying to hold onto the box. "Holy mother of- what're these rings made of?! Lead?"

"Gold, actually."

Bruce readjusted his grip on the box and waddled toward the fire escape. "Blimey, I should give you a part of my share for havin' to do this all night… but I'm not goin' to 'cause you already promised me fifty-fifty. A deal's a deal, am I right?"

Eric contemplated butting the cat off the side of the building, but pushed aside the thought, if only because he was too tired to murder the only help he had with moving the merchandise off the roof. "Whatever," he said, finding himself grabbing the sack of jewelry he had only just set down. "Let's just hurry this up. Every second we sit here is another second that something could go-" The light above the door shattered, and what little light Eric had to work with vanished into the night. "...wrong..."

"Well that's inconvenient," Bruce said. "For you, anyway."

"How'd that even happen?" Eric asked. He squinted toward the source of the sound, but still couldn't make anything out in the dark. "Light bulbs don't just explode like that."

"Probably the wirin' in this place," Bruce said. "Elevator was out of order, and the security system should've started a fire a decade ago; not too much of a stretch to assume they mucked up a light."

"...You threw something at it, didn't you?"

"What? Why would I do that?"

"So you could run off with the goods and leave me behind."

"I'm glad there's so much trust between us," Bruce said bitterly. "What makes you think I can get away with the rest of the loot if I'm sittin' here about to break my back carryin' the smallest box we got?"

"Good point…"

"Yeah, it is," Bruce said. "Now c'mon; you were just chewin' me out for not movin'."

"I can't see."

"Then follow the sound of my voice," Bruce sang. "Like a ship bein' lured by the song of a beautiful Siren…"

The cat wasn't right in the head, but considering that he was the only one that could see in the dark, Eric had little choice but to trust him. He took a few tentative steps forward, slowly increasing in speed as he felt more confident in his path.

"That's right. A little to the left... Keep goin', keep goin'..."

"I heard you the first time, fleaba-" With a loud clang, Eric's foot collided with a metal vent, and he toppled face-first onto the ground.

"Ooh, I felt that one," Bruce giggled.

"So did I…" Eric groaned, pushing himself off the ground. "You did that on purpose, didn't you?"

"You really don't trust me, do you? So much for bein' partners… alright I admit it! I did it, and lemme' tell you, it's bloody hilarious! Speakin' of, you've got a little somethin' under your nose there."

Eric wiped his nose on his sleeve and glared in what he assumed to be Bruce's general direction. "You realize if I crack my skull open you're going to have to bring all this down by yourself, right?"

"Eh, good point," Bruce said. "Just keep goin' straight until I tell you to stop. For real this time, I swear on it."

Eric continued forward, this time keeping his slow, cautious pace with his free hand out in front of him. He wondered if he'd be too tired to murder Bruce after moving the loot to the van. He'd still need a flashlight or something to see where to throw him off, but… wait.

Eric slapped his forehead. "I am such an idiot," he muttered, digging into his pocket for his phone. He turned on the device's flashlight function, and a beam of steady white light cut through the darkness. "Bruce, if you say a word about this, I will literally-" He shone the light towards Bruce, secretly hoping to blind him with the bright LED, but where the cat had been standing, there was nothing.

"Bruce?" he called out, looking across the roof. The cat was nowhere in sight. "If you don't come out I'm just going to take the loot and go." Still no response. Somewhat frustrated, Eric turned back toward the fire escape, ready to begin the monotonous task of loading the pile of valuables into the van on his own.

The light whistle of something cutting through the air rushed past Eric's ear, and what felt like a razor sliced across his wrist, the sudden pain forcing him to drop his phone and the bag as he cradled the wound. A powerful blow struck the side of his jaw, the sheer force knocking him to the ground. He tried to get back up, only to be struck down again by another blow to the back of his head.

For a moment, Eric seemed to lose all feeling, the night somehow becoming even darker. Slowly, sensation returned to his body, and he reached to rub his throbbing jaw, but found that he couldn't move his arms. His eyes snapped open, and his heart pounded in his chest. He could see the street nine stories below him, with nothing but the rope wrapped tightly around his chest and arms preventing him from plummeting to his demise.

"Struggle, and I let go."

Eric looked up, trying to find the source of the voice, but all he saw was the rope leading up over the edge of the roof. "Who are you and what do you want from me?" he whimpered.

"Where's Falcone?"

"Huh? H-how should I know?"

The rope swung backwards, slamming the back of Eric's head against the brick building. "That's not what I wanted to hear."

"I-I swear I don't know anything!"

"You came here tonight because you knew that the ZPD would be distracted by another one of Falcone's attacks. Tell me how you found out, or you'll be nothing more than a stain on the sidewalk."

"You've got the wrong sheep! Please, I'm telling the truth!"

"You have until the count of three."

"N-no no, I'm begging you!"

"One." The rope lowered slightly.

"I'll do whatever you want!"

"Two." The rope lowered a bit more.

"I have money!"

"Thr-"

"ALRIGHT! I'LL TALK! I'LL TALK!" Eric screamed. "His name is Lupus! Ignazio Lupus! I-I overheard him talking about Falcone's plans a few nights ago! Something about a bank!"

"Where can I find him?"

"He rents a room at the Shady Oasis Motel in Sahara Square! J-just don't tell him I sent you, alright?"

"... Is that all?"

"That's everything I can tell you! I swear on my life!"

"...Hm. Then I don't need you anymore." The rope started lowering.

"W-wait, wait! You said you wouldn't kill me if I talked!"

"I know your type. You think that your miserable existence justifies your greed, that the world owes you a debt for your own failures and misfortunes. You won't learn anything from mercy."

"I'll retire! Pay my taxes! Volunteer at a soup kitchen! Just spare me, please!"

"As you see that ground rushing toward you, I want you to remember these words: I am the Bat-Knight, and this city is mine."

Eric screamed as the rope fully slackened, sending him plummeting toward the ground. The rope halted just before his head slammed into the concrete below, the sudden stop nearly crushing his ribs. He could barely breath from the tightness of his binds and the pain in his chest, but he lacked the words to express how relieved he was to be alive.

"Well this went pear-shaped pretty quick, huh Ramdomski?"

Eric looked over to his right. Bruce was hanging from the building in a fashion similar to himself, looking rather grotesque with one of his eyes swollen shut and several patches of missing fur dotting his face.

"Where'd all this rope even come from, right? Didn't even know you could get any this long."

"...shut up."

"Aw, don't be like that! Sure, we nearly got killed and we're danglin' from the side of a buildin', but it can't get worse!"

Sirens blared in the distance, red and blue lights overtaking the dull yellow streetlights as the sound drew closer.

"I don't know why I said that. Literally nothin' good would have come of it…"

As the police cars stopped in front of the building, Eric heard the flapping of wings up above. A dark figured streaked across the sky and landed on top of one of the nearby buildings. His eyes almost seemed to glow under the moonlight, glaring at the two dangling criminals with an unspoken threat before he took off again and disappeared into the night.

Eric hadn't a clue who this Bat-Knight was or why he wanted the city's most dangerous crime boss so badly, but after tonight, he knew one thing for sure; this town was about to become an absolute madhouse.

"Fangmeyer, Delgato, you two are needed at the Tundra Town crime-scene." The tiger and lion rose from their seats and marched out the door without a word. Bogo mentally applauded himself for getting their names right this time.

"Wolford, Higgins, meet up with the catnip cartel whistle-blower and bring him to the station for questioning." Wolford almost seemed disappointed to leave his (disturbingly convincing) sheep disguise behind, while his hippo partner equipped his fake mustache despite how ill-suited it was to their assignment.

"Hopps and Wilde…" Bogo glanced up from his folder. Hopps sat in her chair with a wide, enthusiastic smile, eagerly awaiting instructions. Wilde had his feet up on the table in front of him, idly drinking coffee while staring at the wall behind the chief, rather than directly at him, with an undeservedly smug grin plastered across his muzzle. "I need to have word in private with the both of you," he said. Hopps' smile quickly faded, and a quick series of emotions spread across her face, ranging from concern, to self-doubt, to an accusing glare towards her partner, and finally, a tense, nervous expression. Wilde merely raised an eyebrow before returning to his coffee.

Bogo handed out assignments to the few remaining officers, and within a few short minutes, the room was empty aside from Hopps, Wilde, and himself. He reached under his podium, grabbed the file he had stowed away earlier, and walked over to the pair, making no attempt to hide his displeasure.

"This is your assignment," he said, tossing the file onto the table in front of them.

The two exchanged perplexed glances. "Is… there a reason you didn't give this to us earlier?" Hopps asked, still uncertain if whether or not she was to receive one of Bogo's infamous 'lectures'.

"Blatant favoritism," Bogo growled.

"Aw, that's sweet of you, Chief," Wilde said. "I know it's hard to say because you've gotta' maintain that image of a big tough cop, but it's alright; we love you too."

"If it were up to me, both of you would be doing an elementary school presentation on the dangers of jaywalking," Bogo snapped. "However, our very own Mayor Swinton called me this morning demanding that you two be put to work on this instead of having an actual detective do the job, babbled about diversity and public relations for half an hour, and subtly threatened to deny the funding increase we've needed ever since Falcone started tearing up the city."

Hopps' jaw nearly hit the ground. Even Wilde seemed genuinely taken aback by the blatant corruption.

"You know, I suddenly regret voting for her," he said.

"I'm pretty sure it's illegal for her to even do that," Hopps said. "Why don't you bring it up to the city council? Or the media?"

"She was careful enough with her wording so that she merely implied the threat," Bogo said. "Maybe she'd get some negative press for it, but it wouldn't be enough to get her in court. I'd just be wasting my time trying to fight it."

"Why does she want us anyway?" Wilde asked. "It's been like two, almost three years since we dealt with Bellwether. I'd bet nobody even remembers that we were involved in that."

"Swinton apparently thinks the two of you are the greatest detectives to ever walk the planet," Bogo snorted, almost laughing from the absurdity of the statement. "Nevermind the fact that you're both just lieutenants," he muttered.

"So, what're we up against?" Hopps asked, regaining the determined look Bogo knew her for. "We've been talking about why we've been assigned this case, but unless we know what we're supposed to do, we're wasting time."

"Agreed," Bogo said affirmatively. He flipped open the folder to the first page, revealing a full-body composite sketch of a costumed bat. "For three nights in a row, we've had crimes-in-progress stopped by a masked vigilante calling himself the 'Bat-Knight'," he said. "Last night around mid-night, he-"

"Oh my God, that is hilarious!"

Bogo turned to Wilde, who was about to fall out of his seat from laughing so hard. "What could possibly be funny about this?" he growled.

"This guy looks like he leapt of the pages of one of those cheesy comic books I had as a kid!" Wilde snickered. "Look! He's even wearing his underpants on the outside of his tights!" He relapsed into a fit of giggles.

"Nick, could you please try and take this seriously?" Hopps asked.

"C'mon, this is comedy gold!" he exclaimed. "What part of a bat dressing up like a Silver-Age superhero isn't the funniest thing ever?"

"On the second night he shattered a raccoon's spine so severely that she will likely never be able to walk again," Bogo said.

"...Oh."

"I thought so," Bogo muttered. "As I was saying, he stopped a cat and a sheep from robbing a local department store's jewelry section, strung them up with rope, threw them off the side of the building, and left them dangling there until officers arrived on the scene to cut them down and arrest them."

"That seems excessively brutal," Hopps noted. "I mean, he didn't break their spines this time, but…"

"Which is probably why he's grabbed the attention of the mayor," Bogo said. "I imagine the media will latch onto him as well if his spree of violence continues. Knowing them, they'll spin him into some kind of hero doing what we legally, and morally can't."

"So you want us to unmask this guy and bring him in, right?" Wilde asked.

"I thought that much was obvious," Bogo said. "You have a month. That's when City Hall decides on its annual budget plan, and if this psycho isn't caught by then, it's going to be a problem not just for Precinct One, but for the entirety of Zootopia's law enforcement."

Wilde nodded. "So, no pressure. Got it."

Bogo made a mental note to assign him a month's worth of parking duty after this was over. "I'd recommend you get started immediately," he said. "Familiarize yourself with the case file, and do whatever you feel is necessary to move on from there. Dismissed."

"Yes, sir!" Hopps cheered, grabbing the file and bounding out of her chair.

"What she said!" Wilde gave Bogo lazy salute and followed Hopps out the door, leaving the Chief alone in the briefing room.

Bogo would never admit it, but he had a lot of faith in those two. They didn't find the missing mammals in two days through sheer luck, but because they probably were some of the best investigators that ever worked under him. Despite their relative inexperience, they seemed to have a better grasp on teamwork and critical thinking than even some of his veteran officers. Although he honestly would've rather had an experienced detective work on the Bat-Knight case, he had a feeling that they'd be able to power through it… or at least he hoped so.

He felt his phone vibrate in his pocket, snapping him out of his thoughtful trance. He picked it up and answered it without looking at the number. "Chief Bogo speaking," he said.

"Hello, Chief," came the posh voice of an older gentleman.

"Alfred Whinnyworth!" Bogo exclaimed. "It's been too long, old friend. How's Bruce doing? Still getting used to the new Zootopia after going abroad for all these years?"

"You could say that, yes," Alfred said respectfully. "I apologize if I'm interrupting anything, but I'm calling to confirm your presence at the Drayne Foundation Charity Ball tomorrow evening."

"Of course I'll be there," Bogo said. "I paid an arm and a leg for a spot on the guest list, didn't I?"

"Excellent. Master Bruce is very much looking forward to seeing you again. He has a number of stories he wishes to share about his time overseas."

"I'm sure he does. Seven years worth, if I'm not mistaken. That's good, because I've been saving a few myself. Have you told him about the Night Howler Conspiracy?"

"Not quite yet."

"Good; I've been dying to tell him that one," Bogo chuckled. He looked at his watch. "Hm, I'm afraid I have to cut this short, Alfred. Duty calls."

"Very well. It was good to talk to you again," Alfred said. "Have a nice day, sir."

"Take care, Aflred," Bogo said. "Tell Bruce I said 'hi'." He hung up and slipped the phone back into his pocket, now in a considerably better mood than before. During a simpler time, Bogo would invite Bruce to the station, let him mingle with the other officers, sometimes even go out on patrol with him.

Realizing that he was about to be late for a meeting, Bogo set aside his sentimental musings and exited the briefing room, bracing himself for yet another day of the worst, and the best Zootopia had to offer.

Author's Ramblings:

Now this was a ton of fun to write. I've been planning this crossover for quite some time now, and lemme tell you, I have an absolute treasure trove of puns up my sleeve. This is your first and last warning.

This isn't going to be an adaptation of any particular Batman story or universe, but I've taken heavy inspiration from Batman: The Animated Series, the Dark Knight film trilogy, the Tim Burton films, Batman: Year One, and the Arkham games. Figured I'd turn this story into a giant homage to Batman in general, seeing as how much I love the series.

Thanks to President Stalkeyes for coming up with the name 'Bat-Knight' in the first place. Check out his story, BvB: Butting Heads. It has absolutely nothing to do with Batman outside of a few references, but if you like well-written OCs and seeing Bellwether get some backstory, it won't disappoint in the least.

As per usual, I look forward to any criticisms or comments you may have. Tell me what to improve on so I can avoid making another Batman & Robin... Nah, what am I saying? Even I can't recreate something that horrible. You just can't top Bat Nipples.

For the record, this is in no way connected to my other story, The Maddox Family. Felt like a clean slate would make things a lot easier on me.