People often wondered why the Rogues continued to invite the Pied Piper back, given his *ahem* queer moral leanings. The answer was stunningly simple, and Captain Cold was getting a little sick of explaining it. Piper was invited back for the same reason everyone else was, because he was useful.

And it wasn't just the hypnotic abilities. Aforementioned fetish for morality actually killed the usefulness of his main gimmick for the other Rogues. After all, a hypnotist who felt guilty about taking advantage of people in a vulnerable mental state was more of an annoyance to a band of super criminals than an asset.

Piper was useful for the same attribute that pissed his cohorts off. A wannabe do-gooder pseudo-criminal had a lot in common with the Capes, and thus was an insight into how their enemies thought. Cold had noticed this a couple times on his earlier outings with the kid, particularly when Heatwave accidentally torched the stairwell to an apartment building and Piper had cost them five precious minutes refusing to leave until they'd put it out. Quite frankly, self centered men like the Rogues had not yet put it together that people with a functioning moral compass cared enough about innocent bystanders to put their own goals in danger. His next time out against Flash, when the job started to go sour Cold started blasting bystanders indiscriminately with ice blocks. Flash had been so busy melting ice and escorting people to the emergency room that Cold had gotten away clean.

There were other perks to having a wannabe-do-gooder on the team too, and one of those perks came on December 24th. The kid actually sent his criminal cohorts Christmas presents. And, though no one would ever admit it in public, he was pretty good at it.

Len was staring at his phone, wondering if h e should call his sister or not...it was Christmas Eve, and she was the only family he cared about enough to acknowledge...but then he'd be demonstrating feelings, and he certainly wasn't fond of that.

The scritching sound of little scrabbly nails on his window sill brought Len's attention from the phone to the window, where a rat with a package in its mouth was waiting. The rat scampered off as soon as he retrieved his festively decorated present. More excited than he cared to admit, Len quickly ripped off the paper to reveal refills for his ice-cream maker in specialty Christmas flavors like eggnog and gingerbread.

"How the hell did Piper notice..." He trailed off, uncomfortable. Len had an emotional attachment to ice-cream. Deciding that he'd feel paranoid in the morning, for the moment it was simply nice to be heard.

Across town Mark Mardon was expressing much the same sentiment to Digger Harkness over the phone. This was the third year of Piper-presents after all. They knew they had something to look forward to.

"Someone got the damn hint! He got me a leather bound gilt paged collection of Twain! And a set of highlighters for some reason, but still!"

"So the little fag noticed your favorite author. You gonna kiss him thank you or something?" Digger returned with a scowl.

"Oh give him a break. It's Christmas and he gave us presents. I think you went a little too far with the teasing last team-up." Mark said, while reverently stroking his new book.

"Yeah, I think I might have." Digger admitted. He'd just opened his gift. It was a garrish gay pride button with the slogan 'one in ten is not enough, recruit, recruit, RECRUIT!!' emblazoned in rainbow letters on it. The card read 'anytime you're ready to talk Digger, I'm here for you' signed with a quarter note.

Elsewhere Mick Rory was playing eagerly with a shiny new custom zippo, completely ignoring the fire extinguisher that had come with it (with the words 'please be safe' written across it), and Sam Scudder was admiring an antique cigarette case with compact mirror. Each of the Rogues (except Boomerang) temporarily admitted that they liked having Piper around. What none of them understood was why he chose to keep coming back.

That discovery was left to the new guy. James Jesse had only been on a couple team ups and was really just starting to get to know the other rogues. Therefore, he didn't know about the Piper-presents, and of course no one would have thought to tell him.

He'd planned a relaxing Christmas Eve for himself with the intention of causing some light mayhem on the holiday itself. The plum pudding bombs and antlered rubber chickens were waiting under his Charlie Brown style Christmas tree, and the Trickster himself was crashed on his couch watching a Christmas Story with hot chocolate and candy canes.

At first he didn't notice the scrabbling sounds, but when the delivery rat got stuck in the for-decoration-only chimney and started screeching, and the screeches echoed throughout the den...that James noticed. He leapt off the couch, promptly breaking into loud Italian cursing as his very hot cocoa spilled over his pajamas.

The rat kicked itself free and the package fell to the bottom of the fireplace to land on the hearth with an ominous thud. James never saw the rat. The poor little guy had decided the job was more trouble than it was worth and took off as soon as the box was out of his teeth.

James stared at the little rectangular box, adrenaline coursing through his system. He was a super criminal with a streak of jolly-sadism to his capers, and like most people, unconsciously assumed more people than not operated like him. And he'd have a hoot delivering booby trapped Christmas presents down chimneys.

James retrieved a yo-yo from an end table and shot it at the package. He got it to wobble a couple times, then skitter off the hearth and onto the hardwood floor, but nothing happened. Still cautious, James approached the box and gave it a hesitant prod. Again, nothing happened, so he opened the present. It was a scarf.

Huh.

There was nothing ominous about a scarf, was there?

He lifted it from the tissue paper, noting that it was an exceptionally soft scarf made of heavy blue and orange yarn. It'd probably be really good for the snowy weather they were having, actually. He tried the scarf on, got a good snuggle out of it, and finally noticed the card in the tissue paper. It was a very plain little card, just Merry Christmas and a quarter note.

James was intrigued.

Lil' Later

James changed out of his cocoa-stained jammies and into snow-appropriate attire that matched his new scarf (which he was becoming surprisingly fond of surprisingly quickly) and decided to test out the snow boot version of his air walking shoes. He ran across the skies of the Twin cities until he found the Pied Piper's apartment, and peered in through the living room window.

It was a very cozy looking scene. Coals were smoldering gently in the grate of the fireplace, with one empty stocking hung on the mantle. The floor was coated with Christmas CD cases and small hand instruments, and there was a real Christmas tree (as opposed to the ironic little thing he had at his house), although there wasn't anything under it. The place was modestly decorated and pleasant looking, if a little lonely.

Then James' eyes traveled to the sofa, and he almost overbalanced. At first glance it looked like Piper was sleeping with a big fur rug thrown over him. Then James noticed that the 'rug' was undulating. He was being eaten alive by rats!

Without thinking, James whipped open the window and dove into the room to save the other criminal. The rats, who of course had not been eating Piper, noticed the scary looking flying man headed towards the human who fed them, and with furious squeaks leapt on James and started biting wherever they could reach. He slammed into the coffee table, landed painfully on a sharp metal flute, and started rolling around the floor with his hands thrown protectively over his face (his beautiful, beautiful face!).

"Get them off! Get them off!"

"Huh?" Piper watched him dazedly for a second before the significance of what he was seeing caught up with his sleepy brain. "Hey guys! Get off, he's a friend!"

Instantaneously, the rats returned to Piper, finding perches on his slippers, lap or shoulders if they could.

James stared at him, looking a wee bit traumatized. "You...talk to rats?"

"I'm getting the hang of it, yes. Did you like the scarf?" He asked pleasantly.

"Oh yeah, thanks, it's-"

"I'm sorry. It's not a very good present, but I'm still just getting to know you, and when I saw the colors together it reminded me of your costume, so..." He shrugged apologetically.

"No-no, it's great! Um...is it normal to give accomplices Christmas presents?" James asked curiously.

"I'm pretty sure I'm the only one who does it." Piper admitted. He fished a treat out of one of his pockets and handed it off to a rat.

"Ah, good, cuz I didn't get anyone anything. So, uh, Merry Christmas?"

"And a happy New Year." Piper returned cheerfully. The honest good nature, and, well, especially the honest part...James was feeling a little awkward. Piper seemed to pick up on it, but only exacerbated the problem by offering him eggnog and sugar cookies.

"Uh, thanks. I don't suppose you have any Neosporin or anything, do you?" He was still smarting from the rat bites.

"Oh, sorry! I'll be right back." The rats scattered to different parts of the room when Piper got up, all out of sight. James was under the distinct impression they didn't like him.

He took off his snow boots and jacket (but left the scarf on) and flopped onto the sofa, flipping through one of the stacks of Christmas CDs while he waited for Piper.

Piper thunked a good sized first aid kit on his coffee table and immediately started dabbing disinfectant onto the bites. The rats cautiously emerged from their hiding spaces and gathered around him protectively. "I'm so sorry about that."

"Eh, I was breaking and entering. From the window it looked like they were eating you or something." Was it his imagination, or did the rats look indignant? 'No James, rats cannot understand English'.

"So what brings you here? I'm not sure if the others told you or not, but I don't work on holidays." Piper explained.

"Why not?" James asked, even though he hadn't been planning on a team up. For some reason he still found it insulting that Piper was turning him down.

Piper waved a hand to indicate his decorated living room. "I'm a bit of a Christmas geek, actually. I prefer spending the day as Hartley Rathaway, not the Pied Piper."

"Ah. With rats." James couldn't help but point out. He regretted it instantly; the other rogue looked stung.

"Yes, well, obviously it's a little less than ideal."

"Dude, why do you send Christmas presents to super criminals?" James asked suddenly, bothered more than he should have been. "We're all douche bags, and the things they say about you-"

"I know exactly what the Rogues say about me." Piper said in a voice that was a touch too calm. James snorted.

"Obviously not, because there's not way we'd all be getting hand wrapped Christmas presents. Dude they think you're gay-"

"I am gay."

"Oh. Wait, what?"

Piper smirked, while James looked increasingly flustered. "I know they rip on me for it, but it's still true. Nice of you to assume my sexual preference is inherently insulting though."

James frowned, looked down at the sugar cookie he was holding, then back up at Piper. "It's icky."

Piper started laughing at that. Even though he'd been tempted towards righteous indignation, he couldn't help but notice that the Trickster wasn't showing signs of elevated disgust or aggression, just an almost innocent confusion. "Well that's a very mature attitude."

"Hey, I'm the Trickster. I hit people with exploding yo-yos. Maturity is kinda the opposite of my gimmick." He pointed out.

"Alright, fair enough."

"So wait then, shouldn't you have, like, a boyfriend or something to spend Christmas Eve with? I still don't get wasting your sentimentality on jack asses like Boomerang and Cold, and, well, me. You don't even know me." James muttered, fingering the scarf he was beginning to suspect to be handmade. Piper just continued smiling at him, looking every bit a cheerful holiday nerd.

"Well you're the first one to say thank you, so I don't think it was much of a waste."

"Oh."

They sat in silence a moment, sipping their eggnog and munching their cookies, each lost in thought.

"So do you ever send stuff to the Flash?" James asked. Piper laughed.

"You'll appreciate this, yes, actually."

"WHY!? The guy's such a tool! No, wait, he's so full of tool that he's a tool bag-no! A tool shed!" They were both cracking up at that.

"Christmas before last, I was just feeling so lonely that I sent little cards to a whole bunch of people, almost at random, and Flash interpreted his as a threat for a crime spree. So now I send something to the Police station for him every year to screw with him. It's always something innocent, but he makes an ass of himself assuming I'm going to destroy the city with a fruitcake or something!"

"Fruitcake, eh?" James couldn't help repeating.

"Yes Trickster, a disgusting cake with blobs of what can debatably be labeled fruit cemented inside." Piper said warningly.

"Right, that's what I thought. Oh man, we should all get in on that one."

Piper shook his head. "Nah, the others all want to turn it into a real heist, and that's not the point. Besides, I don't work on Christmas."

"Well I think you should break your rule and hang with me tomorrow. I'm not doing anything heavy-just holiday themed pranks."

"And what would I do? Play carols while the yo-yos explode?" Piper asked sarcastically. James shrugged.

"It's up to you. I just thought the company'd be nice."

"Really?"

"But if super criminal shenanigans aren't your thing, let's hang tomorrow night and watch some Christmas specials. I'm alone this year too."

"O-okay." Piper said, smiling slowly at the thought.

"Oh, but if Flash gets me arrested, you'll have to bust me out of prison first."

"Of course."

"Great!" James stood up and slipped his coat back on. "Well thanks again for the scarf. I've gotta get back to my place and do another equipment check for tomorrow morning."

"Alright. Merry Christmas James."

"Yeah, you too Piper. See you tomorrow."

Later that night while Piper rinsed out the mugs they'd used for the eggnog, his eyes kept flicking to the kitchen table. Nested in a pile of the usual junk he accumulated on spare surfaces in his apartment were a couple of boxes with brown packing paper and return to sender stickers on them. Piper wiped his hands on his pants and frowned, staring the boxes down again. In addition to the return to sender stickers, his father had added a message in large black letters: YOU ARE DEAD TO US.

"Merry Christmas Mom and Dad." He muttered before dumping the presents in the trash. This was the fourth year running he'd tried to get the damn things delivered.

The real reason the Pied Piper sent presents to the other Rogues was also the same reason he kept coming back for team ups: because he honestly didn't have anyone else in his life. Still, when he saw news footage of plum pudding bombs going off in downtown Central while the Trickster flew overhead with a retinue of eight reindeer-chickens, he got to thinking that maybe the scarf, at least, had been a good investment.