Chapter 8: Packages

Rogue looked at the Christmas cards and their envelopes on her desk with a pleased smile on her face. She hadn't written many, but the ones she had were done in the copperplate style with her new calligraphy pen. The lines and spacing wasn't perfect, there were a few wobbles here and there and she wasn't brave enough to try elaborate flourishes yet, but she felt her new handwriting still looked beautiful.

She couldn't wait to hand them out. And she was pretty sure that this was exactly how Jubilee felt every time she gave cards to everyone.

Rogue glanced over at the digital clock on her bedside and realised with a start that it was much later than she thought. She hurried over to her wardrobe to get changed. She happened to glance down at the floor as she did so and caught a glimpse of the package from her Mama, still sitting there unopened. Rogue grabbed her clothes and shut the door firmly with her foot.

Tonight was the big Christmas Party that Jubilee was throwing for their age group, where they could invite some of their "outside friends". Before that, however, one of Rogue's friends was coming over a little earlier.

No sooner than did Rogue finish dressing but did she get the call from the office to say that Juan had arrived. She got to the front door just moments after he got out of his car.

Juan was tall and lanky, and still worked at Tom's Auto Repairs as one of the full time mechanics. He had brown skin, calloused hands, and bedroom eyes. There was a time Rogue would have been completely open to dating him, but that time had long since passed.

"Hey Rogue," he greeted her warmly. "Long time no see."

"Yeah, it's been awhile," Rogue replied and ignored his eyes drifting over to her missing arm. "It's great to see you."

"It's good to see you too. So uh…" he hesitated awkwardly. "How's, um, the arm?"

"It's fine. Well, what's left of it. Which isn't much. It's more of a shoulder than an arm, really," Rogue replied, then, determined to get over the awkwardness, hurried on with: "So, let's go see my baby."

Juan chuckled and began to follow as she headed towards the garage. "Yeah. I'm really interested in these mods you made."

"It's not quite finished yet," Rogue said in warning. "But when it is, I plan on bringing it by so it can get cleared for driving on actual roads."

"That would make it more useful, that," Juan replied with a grin. "Actually being able to drive it places."

"Yeah. You have no idea how much I want to get back to driving already."

They headed into the garage and went up the back where Rogue's motorcycle was stationed, with parts and wires hanging out. Some wires were loosely taped in place. Juan made a beeline for it and immediately started looking it over.

"The new handle looks cool," he said. "I like all the buttons. Which ones do what?"

Rogue eagerly told him all about it. Juan listened with rapt attention and asked more questions, delving into the more technical. When he asked if she'd been doing it on her own, she hesitated before replying.

"No. I'd love to say otherwise, but I've had Logan and Remy helping me," Rogue admitted. "There are some things you just need two hands for. There are other things that I can do with one hand, and things that I need to figure out how to do with one hand." Then Rogue scowled. "And then there are some things you specifically have to have a right hand for. I have been scouring the internet looking for so much left-handed stuff, it's ridiculous. And making my own stuff. Which I also need help with." She sighed.

"Ooh new tools?" Juan asked and Rogue chuckled, remembering what a tool-whore he was. "Whatcha got?"

Rogue showed him her new tools and from there they gravitated towards doing more work on her motorcycle. They didn't even realise how much time had passed until Kitty came looking for them.

"Oh, here you are, shoulda guessed," Kitty said. "The party's happening without you."

"Wait, what, it's started?" Rogue glanced at the clock on the garage wall. "Oh. Right. We'll be right there."

A week later it was Christmas Eve.

"It feels like I'm starting a new Christmas tradition for myself," Gambit said musingly while laying on Rogue's bed on top of the covers. "The only problem is the ungodly hour I have to get up."

Rogue chuckled as she pulled on her bed socks. "The morning is practically over by the time you have to get up."

"And your point is?"

Rogue laughed again. "New tradition huh? What was the old one?"

Gambit was silent for so long, that Rogue turned to look at him from where she sat on the end of the bed. They locked eyes.

"Remy?" she asked.

"I mean… Are you sure you want to know?" Gambit asked.

"Even moreso now that you're being cagey about it." Rogue moved up the bed and got in under the covers. Her feet found the heat pack she'd warmed up earlier and basked in the heat.

"Well, I mean, I did tell you that I've been a thief and and lived with thieves pretty much my entire life," Gambit replied with a half shrug. "And holidays are really good time for stealing, because businesses are closed and people go visiting relatives and stuff."

Rogue was quiet for a moment, then grumbled as she settled herself in bed. "I knew your history and I still didn't see that one coming. Really should've realised that was coming."

Gambit chuckled. "We have a little gift giving, but it's a pretty informal affair. We don't bother with any family get-togethers until about mid-January, usually."

"Huh. Do…" Rogue hesitated briefly. "Do you miss them?"

"Yeah." Gambit sounded resigned. "I missed them."

"Even thought they kicked you out?"

"Given that the Assassins Guild was demanding my death in exchange for peace, I'm pretty okay with exile," Gambit replied wryly. "The part I hate is that no one believed me when I told them it was an accident." His poker face crumbled and he looked defeated. "Or if they did, they didn't bother to say so."

Rogue wrapped her arm around him.

"Tante Mattie probably believed me," Gambit said thoughtfully.

"She still didn't say so."

"No, but that's not really her style, and she wouldn't have had a say in negotiations anyway," Gambit said in dismissal. "She did tell me when I left that I should avoid accepting miracle cures from devils, and it might be best if I steered clear from Arizona for the next six months."

Rogue frowned. "Oookay? Why Arizona?"

"No idea. Maybe that's where the devil lives." Gambit half-shrugged again. "I've learnt the hard way that ignoring Tante Mattie's advice is a bad idea." He grinned at Rogue, and his grin turned sly as he asked: "Do you miss your mama?"

Rogue sighed and looked away. "Yeah. Would you… If you… If your family ever got back in contact with you, would you let them back in?"

Gambit grunted. "That's not likely to happen, not when they need to cut contact to maintain the exile. But I guess, if my some chance a miracle happened and they could do so without restarting the war, then yeah, I'd probably let them back in."

"Even though they didn't believe you?"

"Oh, I'm sure we'll have a nice long argument about that, in which I will point out that they of all people should know my lying MO: I evade and tell partial truths, but I only bold faced lie when I'm working." Gambit's eyes twinkled with mischief. "I've given this a lot of thought."

Rogue made a sound like a half-hearted giggle.

"Thinking about getting back in contact with your mama?"

"No. Yes. I don't know." Rogue sighed. "I love her, as angry as I am, I still love her," she began tearing up, "but I can't ever trust her again. I just… I don't know what to do."

Gambit leaned over and kissed her cheek.

"It was so much easier when she couldn't contact me," Rogue muttered.

"Yeah." He kissed her again. "I wish I had some answers for you, Roguey."

"Me too."

Upon waking the next morning, after a nice sleep-in, Rogue went about her usual routine. After she opened the wardrobe, however, her eyes fell on her mother's package. She stared at it for what seemed like forever, then pulled it off the floor and dropped it almost violently on the desk.

"This is your Christmas present this year," Rogue muttered to herself.

She pulled out her box cutter and sliced open the box. She undid the flaps, and the first thing she saw was a letter. She sighed as she pulled out the letter: no doubt that this was a long-winded apology for what happened. A meaningless apology, as far as Rogue was concerned, since it only came after she found out Owen had been cheating on her.

The letter was addressed "Dear Rogue", rather than "Marie", much like the package had been.

The opening paragraphs were as Rogue expected: an apology, one that acknowledged that she should've spoken up sooner, that she shouldn't have needed proof Owen's betrayal to admit to her own. The only thing that did surprise her was that Priscilla said "I do not ask you for your forgiveness, for I cannot forgive myself."

Rogue continued reading, feeling somewhat wary.

The next paragraph started with "Carrie told me about your amputation…" and went on to express her sympathies, to which Rogue snorted. Then Priscilla said that she wanted to send her something as a peace offering, but also something that might help her. Rogue huffed irritably at that.

"I know you never had a great love of the piano, as I do, but…" Priscilla went on to say that contained in the package was sheet music: pieces written specifically for the left hand only. Rogue blinked in surprise and reread the sentence, astonished, and then put down the letter to take out the music.

The sheet music was sorted by difficulty, and Rogue flipped through it, astounded that it even existed.

She looked back at the letter and discovered that her mother went on to discuss some of the history behind the music. Rogue snorted to herself, but it was almost affectionate. This was exactly the kind of thing Priscilla did all the time. Most left hand only pieces were difficult, written for concert pianists who had lost the use of their right arm after learning, or for two-handed pianists wanting a challenge. The easier pieces were either one handed pieces or other pieces that Priscilla had adapted herself for Rogue's use.

Following the several paragraphs about the piano, came a new apology, this time for not taking her request to learn guitar more seriously. Priscilla had held off, hoping that Rogue would come to love the piano as she did. In hindsight, she realised that this was a mistake, one she would like to make up for now. Priscilla went on to describe how one-handed guitar playing could be done, and where she could find further resources online if she was still interested in pursuing it. The section ended with a promise to source her a practice guitar should she be interested in pursuing it.

The letter concluded with well-wishes and a desire to reconcile.

Rogue set the letter back down. She put the letter and the sheet music back in the box. She left the box on the desk and continued getting dressed.

The next day, after the chaos that was Christmas at Xavier's, Rogue walked into the music room, sheet music in hand. She sat down at the keyboard and set the sheet music on the stand.

She didn't know why she was doing this.

Rogue put her hand on the keys and began the first exercise. It seemed familiar, and then Rogue realised it was a adaptation of a right-handed exercise she'd done when she was a kid. Between previous experience with the piano and the dexterity she'd been building up in her hand for the better part of a year, she had no problems playing the little piece, or the other similar adaptations that came after.

She slowly made her way through the easy pieces to the intermediate ones. Only here did she start making significant mistakes and start struggling with the fingering. It was strange. For once, her lack of success stemmed less from the dexterity in her left hand, and more from the fact that she'd only ever been a mediocre pianist at best.

Rogue left after about an hour and a half, a little surprised at how happy she was.

The holiday season flew past and the next thing Rogue knew, she was walking into a little ski cabin out of state. It was small and well off the beaten path, but not so far away that getting to the ski lift would be a hassle. The cabin was small, but cosy, and nicely furnished. This was something Rubix had organised, so Rogue preferred not to ask how he'd gotten a reservation at a ski cabin during the on season.

Half the day had gone by the time they arrived, and being cold and worn out from travelling, they just decided to laze around in the cabin for the rest of the afternoon. They left only once to do a grocery shop and to have dinner. When they got back, they curled up together with the heat up, hot chocolates, and read Copper and Cobalt.

The next morning there was a knock on the cabin door, and Gambit answered it. Rubix was there with another man who wore a balaclava. They had a couple of boxes with them.

"Hey," Gambit said and held the door open for them. "Come on in."

"Don't mind if we do," Rubix replied cheerfully as he stepped inside.

The other man quietly followed.

Rogue looked up from where she was lazing on the lounge and watched as they put their boxes on the nearby table. She stood.

"Hi Rogue, good to see you again," Rubix said cheerfully. "Ready for the fitting and testing?"

"About as ready as I'll ever be."

The man in the balaclava, no doubt the prosthetist, opened up one of the boxes. It didn't surprise Rogue in the slightest that he was covering his face. In their few online consultations, he not only wore a full face mask, but also changed his voice. Rogue supposed he was just trying to protect himself in case anything went wrong.

There was no voice changing device this time, although the prosthetist kept chatter to a minimum while he fitted Rogue with the liner and then the socket.

"Probably doesn't matter too much if it's not a perfect fit," Rubix said while the prosthetist went though his usual routine of making sure everything fit nicely. "Only going to need it once."

It was hard to be completely sure through the balaclava, but Rogue thought the prosthetist seemed a little irritated by that.

Once they were satisfied with the socket, the next item in the box was pulled out: a prosthetic right arm, much thicker and longer than Rogue's original right arm had been. It also looked incredibly realistic, the covering looked exactly like skin, and it even had arm hairs and blemishes.

The socket was removed from Rogue's arm and attached to the prosthesis, then the socket was awkwardly refitted to Rogue's residue limb.

"How does that feel?"

"Heavy mostly," Rogue replied. It had been quite some time since she last had any significant weight on her right shoulder.

"These ones are a little heavier than normal, and the adaptor doesn't help," the prosthetist told her, then went on to question her about other details of the fitting.

After some time spent on this, the prosthetic was turned on. Rogue thought there might be a zap or a jolt or something, but there was barely even a hum.

"Actually using it takes some practice," the prosthetist advised her. "I don't think there's going to be enough time for you to become very proficient in using it. Not that I know when… And don't tell me when. I don't want to know."

Rubix chuckled lightly. "Smart man."

The prosthetist just shot him a look before turning his attention back to Rogue and talking her through some exercises. Try as she might, Rogue could not get the prosthesis to respond to her. The prosthetist made some additional adjustments, went through the exercises again, but still got no response.

"Like as not, you just need more practice," the prosthetist assured her. "Don't worry, this is completely normal. Ah…"

He opened up a panel on the arm, which took Rogue by surprise. The panel blended in so well, that there had been no indication that there was something there at all. Underneath it was a little LCD. The prosthetist tapped on it, then instructed Rogue to go through the exercises again.

"Yes, we are getting signal. Everything is working, technologically speaking. Just a practice issue." The prosthetist said. He closed the panel up again, and Rogue saw that the arm hairs and other blemishes were perfectly arranged to camouflage its location.

"And speaking of technology," Rubix said, as he headed over to the other box. "We should try the scanner first."

The prosthetist paused, stood, and said: "Sooo where's the bathroom?"

Gambit chuckled and pointed it out to him. As the prosthetist hurried away, Rubix got the scanner set up. It was a simple plate, the right size for a hand bigger than the prosthetic one Rogue currently wore. It was attached to a black box, which Rubix plugged into the power. He then set up the scanner beneath the hand of the prosthetic arm, and adjusted it to fit properly.

"I'm going to need someone else to position this hand on the real thing, aren't I?" Rogue said with a note of irritation in her voice.

"Probably," Rubix replied, as the blue light of the scan ran over the prosthetic hand. "But I already assumed that would be the case. Don't worry about it."

"Can we take this back with us?" Gambit asked. "Give Rogue some practice time? My place is, well, it's still on campus but it's away from the main building."

Rubix glanced up at Gambit, then back down at the LCD on the black box. "Maybe if we had another prosthesis, but we really need this specific one, and I refuse to let it out of my possession."

Gambit nodded. "Understandable."

"Okay. Scan worked," Rubix said, and proceeded to pack it up. "We now officially have everything we need to pull this off."

Rogue looked at him, then looked back at the dead weight hanging off her right shoulder. She felt like a prop.

After their guests left, Rogue and Gambit went out to get some skiing in.

"You've been quiet," Gambit said as they rode up in the ski lift. "Everything okay?"

Rogue was quiet for a little before replying: "It's stupid."

"What is?"

"I don't like not being able to move that arm. I mean, it's understandable," Rogue said, staring out at the snow and trees as they went by. "There are certain things that you have to learn and train yourself to do. I get why I can't. The part I hate is the part where it gets treated like… like… like it doesn't matter." She sighed heavily.

"Except it does matter," Gambit said seriously.

Rogue shot a dirty look at him. "Excuse me? Did you hear how casually Rubix talked about someone else moving the arm for me? I'm just a prop in this whole thing."

"Oh no, ma chère, it's definitely matters that you can't move the arm," Gambit said firmly. "It matters a lot, just like it also matters that the other guy who's on board can't run. Rubix would've known that as someone new to these prosthesis, that you probably wouldn't be able to move the arm come show time, and he'd made allowances to accommodate for it. But it would be infinitely better if you could move the arm, just as it would be better if this other guy could run. Something else he made allowances for, by asking me to be on standby to create a distraction if something goes wrong."

"I'm still just a prop."

"No, the prosthetic arm is a prop, one we'll be using to get in. Only going to need that for a relatively small portion of the heist," Gambit said. "You, on the other hand, ma chère, will be expected to do other things, in addition to being the bearer of the prop. Don't let Rubix's downplaying fool you. You're going to be acting as a look out, or holding open doors, or any other number of little things that's going to help us get in, do the job, and get out. You are not a prop, and your role in the heist is going to be a lot bigger than Rubix is letting on."

Rogue was silent for a moment, then said: "I'm not sure if that makes it better or worse."

"It makes it better, of course," Gambit said cheerfully. "'Bearer of the Prop' is one step away from being 'Bearer of the Ring'. You're like Frodo!"

Rogue snorted with laughter.

Rogue and Gambit arrived home a couple of days later. Logan and Carrie were in the garage when they pulled up, Logan was checking the engine of one of the cars.

"Hi Rogue, Remy," Carrie greeted them as they got out of the car. "Did you enjoy your weekend?"

"Yeah, it was great," Gambit replied as he opened up the back to grab their bags.

"Yeah, we had a good time," Rogue said agreeably, pushing aside the memories of the prosthetic fitting. "How about you? How was Mississippi? Did you have a good Christmas?"

"I did, thank you. It was nice to be home again for awhile," Carrie said as Logan pulled down the hood of the car.

Rogue nodded, hesitated for a moment, then asked: "How was Mama?"

"She's well. She's really thrown herself into her music lately, and seems a lot happier."

"That's good. Um…" Rogue hesitated again. "I opened the package she sent me. Um… Next time you speak to her, tell her I said 'thanks'."

Carrie blinked in surprise and nodded. "I will."

"This doesn't mean I want to talk to her though," Rogue said hurriedly.

"I didn't think it did."

"And it doesn't mean I'm forgiving her either."

"I didn't think that either."

"Okay, good," Rogue said, and took hold of the handle of her wheeled suitcase which Gambit just brought to her. "I'm, um, I'm glad you had a good time. And that Mama's doing okay."

"Thank you. And I'm glad you had a good time," Carrie replied warmly. "Get any nice massages this time?"

Rogue shook her head. "Not this time. I don't think there were any massage parlours nearby."

"Next time," Gambit promised her.

AN: Copper and Cobalt is Book Two in the periodic tales of Minni the Witch by Jessica D. Coplan.