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Rogue was wearing a dark grey feathered mask that had black netting in the eye holes that concealed his own eyes. The sides came just below his cheekbones and the nose, which fitted onto his well, ended in a point. The eye holes were upturned and smaller than those of other masks but the denting and the contour made it look natural. His entire outfit was greyscale, as per the dress code. He wore black pants, black boots, and a black jacket, but a white shirt with loose sleeves that hung out of those of the jacket. His hair had grown since the ball in 1813; it was a poofy mid length now and there was a white streak at the front that Rogue decided to keep because he thought it looked cool.
He was currently in 1966, not that he waited that long. After however long it was—God knows Rogue couldn't keep track—on the barren planet under the red star, someone had come along, hoping to get some resources off of said planet. Whoever they were must've had one hell of a fright when Rogue had basically broken in looking like he had never seen a civilised society before. Once all weapons had been lowered, they had made Rogue a cup of tea—purple and delectably sweet—while he told them a few sentences about a ball, a doctor, a handful of chuldurs, and a triform. They offered to drop him off anywhere on Earth, anytime, and after a scan of the name ‘Doctor’, which came up more hits than Rogue was expecting, and sorting through them until he found his Doctor, Rogue told them to drop him off 1966, New York City for the famous Black and White Ball.
Frankly, sneaking into a masquerade ball was a very easy task. All Rogue had to do was either make it past those at the door or, the option he chose, slip in through the back. Once you got in, you were in. However, he expected the Doctor would take the more dignified approach so he watched the door. After a quarter of an hour lurking by the entrance, he heard a familiar voice. Peering over the crowd, he matched the voice to its maker as well as spotting his blonde companion.
“Here you go.” Pulling out what Rogue had to assume was psychic paper, the Doctor showed it to the man at the door who nodded for him and Ruby to enter. The Doctor was wearing full white–white pants, white suit, white mask–except for a black bowtie which contrasted the rest of the outfit. Ruby was wearing a black and white striped poofy dress and a grey cropped jacket. She was also wearing a black mask which was designed to look as if it were cracked, covering three quarters of her face.
“I mean, what are the chances he's even here; this seems like quite a fancy ball and the guest list isn't exactly ‘laxed.” Warily, Ruby looked up at the Doctor. He had a smile on his face but the corners of his mouth were downturned.
“Look, the Tardis said he's here, and there's no harm in looking now, is there?” Rogue felt a little spellbound by the Doctor's words. Had he been… looking for him? Rogue had assumed he'd given up. Heck, he would've given up if he was the Doctor. He was probably talking about someone else.
Rogue had been on that barren planet for longer than he'd like to admit. Although it had all faded into a red dyed blur, he knew it was years barely surviving there before tea with the up‐and‐coming miner. After what Rogue's best guess at as half a year, he had really begun to doubt that the Doctor was searching for him and after twice that time he had lost all hope. The Doctor had a Tardis after all; there's no way he could not find him with a dimensionally transcendental time machine if some random person could just stumble upon him.
“Yes, except for all the times we almost died looking for him!” The half of Ruby's mouth open to the world formed a scowl and the Doctor rolled his eyes in his plain white mask. With nothing but a small ember in his soul believing they were talking about him, Rogue wondered who they'd been searching for. Maybe he could help, and along the way find out what the Doctor had done with his ship; he kinda needed it, given it was his home and had all of his stuff inside. Rogue walked up to, or rather behind, them and… crap: they would recognise his voice—he backed away again to the edge of the ballroom. He pondered for a moment; he could try to do a British accent? Yes, well, it was the best plan he had, which wasn't a high bar given that the only other plan he had was to reveal himself.
'Why, hello. Yes, it's me: the boy who kissed you before getting himself thrown onto a random desolate planet. I was wondering if you could tell me where my ship is. Oh, there's a reason why you didn't come find me? And you don't want me around you?' Rogue's mind filled with a thousand sentences the Doctor could put there.
'You read my file?'
'You got sick of me?'
'You don't like me?'
'You never did?'
'Ok; I'll get out of your hair.'
Bitterly, Rogue took a glass from a nearby platter and downed it. The music began and people started pairing up to dance. Rogue ran a few steps until he was right behind the Doctor. Alcohol and a British accent: what could go wrong?
“Excuse me, sir.” apparently, not a lot. “Would you like this dance?” Rogue offered his hand. The Doctor looked to Ruby who was already walking away. With a sad smile, he turned back to Rogue and accepted his offer. Rogue grabbed his waist and the Doctor grabbed his shoulder and they began their waltz around the room.
“I couldn't help but overhear you're looking for someone?” Rogue could barely recognise himself. He would've thought those be a stranger's words had he not felt them in his throat himself.
“Yeah, I met him a while ago now.” The Doctor was spacey as they danced. His eyes kept looking to his feet or just beyond Rogue, and his moves were fatigued and the bare minimum. Spiteful of the time between now and then, Rogue remembered that night where the two of them danced, and how the rest of the world melted away as they stepped and twirled and got ever so close to each other's lips. This was not like that. Sometimes, the background chatter even seemed like the main attraction to his ears, and although Rogue's eyes were locked onto the Doctor's like the way dogs lock their jaws when they bite into something, he could still peripherally see black and white suits and dresses behind his head. “I haven't had much luck, but I heard he'd be here so fingers crossed.”
“How long have you been searching for him?” Rogue idly wondered how he would steer the conversation towards his ship, if that was even possible.
“It's been a few months but, oh it's complicated.” The Doctor stopped for a second, coming up with an analogy that an alleged 1966 human could understand and, better yet, believe. “He sacrificed himself, for my friend—Ruby, you must've seen her. She was accused of a crime with five other outlaws and he took the fall for her, so they sent him away to a barren island with the five other criminals-”
Rogue snorted. His mind wouldn't believe what he heard. The Doctor had been searching for him? Years of learning the hard way while scavenging for any scrap of food had taught him that that was impossible, and that learning went deep.
“Ok, that wasn't true, but the truth is even more weirder and-”
“No, no, it's not that. It's just that, you've got technology, it should be a walk in a park to find him!” Rogue became reckless and his accent slipped a bit, not enough for anyone to notice but him. Did people use that expression in 1966?
“There are so many islands-”
“Use f-s-sp-s-satellites!” Rogue had run straight onto the thinnest ice in the rink. Were there even satellites in 1966?
“I've tried scanning but it's gotten nothing other than this ball!”
“Nothing?” Rogue could see behind his mask's mesh that the Doctor was being honest. Nonetheless, he asked: “Doctor, are you telling the truth?”
“Yes… Wait, I never told you my name!” The Doctor froze, causing Rogue to literally waltz into him. The tips of their masks tapped into each other.
“Do you seriously not recognise me?” Rogue chuckled. A chain reaction went off in his head; the Doctor did remember him, and did look for him, and maybe still liked him?
“Honey, we're at a masked ball.”
“Well, I'll give you a hint:” Rogue dropped his accent. He reached an arm behind the Doctor and pulled him down as he did a lean. “You found me.”
“Rogue.” The Doctor gasped breathlessly. Realisation shot through his face as the corners of his mouth lifted into a smile that reached his otherwise tired eyes.
“I know.” Rogue rose a little to kiss the Doctor but their masks clunked into each other. The Doctor chuckled and Rogue followed suit. He wanted to live in that moment forever; him and the Doctor, happy, laughing, right there. Where they were almost hugging and their legs were half tangled. Their faces were so close to each other, yet blocked from getting any closer. Rogue barely cared. As much as he wanted to kiss the Doctor, he was perfectly fine staring into his starstruck brown eyes.
But no second lasts beyond that and eventually the Doctor, after putting an arm behind Rogue's back and picking him up from his lean, got back into waltz position to continue their dance. Rogue closed his eyes, savouring the after‐taste of that slice of heaven, before nodding and stepping on the next beat. However, they both stepped in opposite directions, Rogue accidentally sweeping the Doctor's right foot off the floor causing him to fall backwards. Lunging around the Doctor, Rogue grabbed his back before he could hit the floor. The timelord smiled in his arms like an idiot. He was about to make a stupid pun, wasn't he?
“Couldn't wait to sweep me off my feet?” The Doctor beamed.
Rogue scoffed. “You're so corny.”
“You'd've said the same in my shoes!” The Doctor defended, standing up. They got back into dancing potion and this time the Doctor primed one of his feet to indicate which way to go first: the way you're supposed to go when starting a waltz. They began their dance again without a hitch on the next beat. Step, step, together, step, step, together, step–oh, that's the end of the song. Ruby made her way from her partner to in front of the Doctor and Rogue who were holding hands.
“Ruby!” The Doctor was rolling up and down on the balls of his feet gleefully. “Guess what!”
She looked up at Rogue. “This isn't-”
“Yep!” The Doctor was grinning in a way that just makes you happy when you see it.
Ruby let out a breath of air. Rogue gave her a smile and a nod. However, Ruby jumped up and hugged him, causing him to step backwards and almost completely bowling him over. “I just wanna say thank you.”
Rogue's arms that were previously just awkwardly there found their way around Ruby. “For what?”
“For saving me from the triform, silly.”
“Right.” They let each other go and Ruby took a step back. “Sorry, that was years ago for me.”
“Oh.” Sombrely, the corner of Ruby's mouth that was visible turned downwards. Awkward silence that was fizzy from the background chatter of strangers formed between the three. Nope, these were not the emotions Rogue was going for in this interaction.
“But I'm here now.” He retook the Doctor's hand who smiled at the contact. “And that's all that matters.”
Ruby's expression turned into a muted smile. “I know this is a fancy ball and all but I'm knackered. Should we all just head back to the Tardis?”
The Doctor looked at Rogue. “Tardis: my blue shed that's bigger on the inside,” he recapped for the bounty hunter. “What do you say?”
Rogue grinned. “Absolutely.”
And with that, the three of them were exiting the plaza and going towards an innocuous blue shed not too far away.