Walking through the arrivals gate, I scanned the crowd before me, not entirely sure who I was looking for. My new roommate had agreed to meet me, assuring me I'd know her as soon as I saw her, but I was still a little sceptical as I skimmed faces. Being bustled along, needlessly, towards baggage claim by my fellow passengers from Los Angeles, I finally managed to glimpse my name written boldly in yellow and black on a sheet of paper. The small, bubbly looking brunette holding the sign was eyeing me with curiosity, clearly wondering if I was myself.

Pushing past the few people that distanced me from my target, I stood shyly before the girl as I introduced myself, "You must be Lucy? I'm Rayne. I like the sign," I laughed, nerves and shyness kicking in.

My fears seemed completely unfounded as I was quickly wrapped into a hug, with confirmation of her identity.

I'd been extremely lucky to end up living in the apartment that was soon to become my home. The Internet was completely to thank for my fortunate stumbling upon Lucy. Through a friend of a co-worker of a good friend I had met online, I'd been informed she was looking for someone to live with, the extra room being fully furnished.

"So, we have a little problem," I started, stopping Lucy as she begun to head towards the baggage carousel. "My luggage didn't actually make it on the flight out of New Zealand with me, so I'm a little screwed until it actually turns up. We need to head over to Baggage Services and sort out all the details."

Sadly, having trouble with travelling seemed to plague me. In the past I'd had bags go missing between London and Dublin, an international flight cancelled the day before departure due to baggage handlers being on strike, a mid-air pipe burst causing a seven hour delay while we diverted to get repairs...

Once we had provided all the necessary details and received the appropriate forms for my travel insurance claim, we headed towards the car park. The early evening air was a welcome warmth after so many hours of cold air conditioning. The spring weather was a little chillier that the autumn I'd left back at home, but I knew it would be hotter than I was used to soon enough.

"Uh," Lucy began with a nervous smile, once we were safely out on the open road, "I hope you don't mind, but I sorta have plans for us tonight. We're going to meet Max. I told you about him, right?"

I nodded as I recalled the name being mentioned in the few times we'd talked. "The boyfriend, yea?"

"The one and only," she grinned, obviously in love. "He got us tickets to the game tonight," she added offhandedly. "You weren't lying about being a sports nut, were you?"

"Not at all, but it does depend on the sport. I'm not that big into American sports, more into rugby and motorsport, I guess." To be honest, basketball, baseball and American football bored the hell out of me. Sure, I'd watch the odd game if I felt so inclined, but that was an extremely rare occasion.

It was just after seven when we pulled into a parking garage, Lucy flashing some sort of pass at the guard. "We don't have long 'til the game starts, but we need to go get you a jersey before we head down to our seats."

I'm not sure if she was being purposefully vague, or if that's just how she was, but Lucy led the way into the arena, pausing only briefly to get our tickets scanned, before leading me blindly into the throngs of people decked out in what I vaguely recognised as Pittsburgh Penguins ice hockey jerseys. Only then did it click that Lucy herself was now wearing a similar jersey. Hers, though, was several sizes past being huge on her.

It had been a few years since I'd seen any NHL action, and never in person. After the lockout it didn't get broadcast very much back in New Zealand. From the day I'd discovered the sport back in 2000, I was hooked. It reminded me a lot of my first love, rugby, with the passion and intensity shown by the players. The Penguins had been one of my favourite teams, along side the Stanley Cup finalists of that season, the New Jersey Devils, and eventual game 7 winners, the Colorado Avalanche.

"Hockey?" I questioned dumbly, entering a shop proudly displaying all conceivable paraphernalia imaginable, every one covered with the Penguins logo.

"That would be correct," Lucy stated. "Pick a jersey, any jersey."

I noticed a lot of Crosby's and Malkin's passing by the window of the shop, so mentally crossed those off the list. That, however, didn't really narrow down my list much. Oh, two Fleury's, cross him off too. Voicing my observations, I asked for help. "Everyone has Crosby, Malkin or Fleury. Who deserves some more fan love?" I questioned, figuring Lucy would be more informed.