It had taken the team's owner to calm Oliver down enough to actually walk away from the medical tent and go back to the locker rooms. Before leaving he'd demanded unrestricted visitation to the hospital; nothing was going to keep Oliver from keeping a careful eye on Terence's recovery. He was needed on the field, the entire team needed his attention, not just Terence.
The cup ceremony had been a complete blur, he'd barely kept it together to get through shaking hands with the other team members and when the cup was handed to him, tears leaked down his cheeks and he had to pass the cup to the other team members to excuse himself.
Reporter after reporter wanted 'just a moment' feel Oliver, and he honestly lost count by the time he made it to the locker room. To shower and change. Team members chattered happily, hugging and high-fiving each other. They called out to their captain, offering their company at whatever bar they were going to. Except Oliver had a date - no, a previous engagement - with Genevieve.
V-Bar was so packed a line of people waited eagerly to get in, waiting with varying degrees of impatience for space to clear inside. Initially, Oliver halted at the line, and Puddlemere's reserve keeper laughed, pulled him out of line, and walked his captain to the door. They stopped several times to talk to various fans and disappeared into the bar.
Hoping to see Genevieve, Oliver sighed with frustration. It would be impossible to find her.
"What are you looking for?" The reserve asked, looking curiously back at Oliver.
"Mm nothing." Why was he looking expectantly for Genevieve? He should have been looking for Romilda. Romilda Vane. His girlfriend. The girl Oliver was supposed to figure out if he loved or not. She'd mentioned possibly coming to the bar - not liking to miss a party to wear her cutest, strappiest little dresses that drove Oliver wild - and if not she would definitely be waiting at home. Finding a small knot of Puddlemere employees, mostly the press team, he sidled up to the familiar faces with hugs.
They'd replayed every little moment of the game from various angles and dissected every play. Oliver had forgotten to look for Romilda and Genevieve with each new face that joined and drifted off from their group. He'd almost not recognized the purr of the French accent, especially when Oliver realized just what the owner of the voice was wearing.
"Hey," Nessie's muck covered non-existent ballsack she looked incredible. That dress hugged every curve of her body in exactly the right place and her necklace dipped below the neckline teasingly. It took a great effort to unstick his eyes from the Montrose chaser and accept the ale. "You definitely didn't make it an easy win." He could play it cool.