Author's Note:Thanks to Leigh Ann (leighann415) for reading drafts, as well as suggesting the title for this. Unlike many of my stories, this will be miltiple chapters. Right now, I only have this written, but hopefully that'll change soon!

Bulldog wheeled his cart of noisemakers into KACL's studio. "Hey, thanks, Doc."

Frasier rolled his eyes. "You don't have to thank me for leaving the booth, Bulldog. My show is over."

"I'm not thanking you for that! It's that wine you mentioned the other day. I bought a bottle for this chick I invited over to watch the Sonics game last night. Let's just say they weren't the only ones who scored!" Bulldog slapped Frasier on the back, laughing hysterically at his joke. "Get it, Doc? 'Scored'!"

"Yes, Bulldog, I get it," Frasier said dryly. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm off to meet Niles for a cup of coffee."

"OK, Doc. But here, take these," Bulldog said, holding out his hand.

Frasier reached out, curious now. "Sonics tickets? Bulldog, I don't even like sports!"

Bulldog shrugged. "Well, you really helped me out last night, so I thought maybe I'd do something nice for you. But hey, it's no big deal."

For a moment, the sportscaster looked as if he might cry. Frasier hadn't expected him to be so emotional. "Well, if it means so much to you. I'm sure Dad would love these."

Bulldog smiled. "Yeah, that's what I thought. I mean, I know sports aren't really your thing, but I didn't know what else to get you."

As he walked to his car, Frasier remained in disbelief over the exchange with Bulldog. When the sportscaster had asked what kind of wine to buy for a woman he hoped to impress, Frasier had merely said the first name that came to mind. After all, Bulldog's idea of romance usually consisted of beer and hotdogs. He'd never expected Bulldog to actually take his advice, much less thank him for it!

A few minutes later, Frasier arrived at his familiar hangout. As soon as he opened the cafe door, he heard his brother call his name from their regular table near the window. "You'll never guess what Bulldog just gave me," he said as he sat down.

"If it's another one of his limericks, I don't want to hear it!" Niles replied, taking a sip of his latte.

"No," Frasier answered. "These." He placed the tickets on the table.

"Basketball tickets?" Niles asked. He looked at the seat numbers indicated on the tickets. "Are these seats close to the field?"

Frasier could not help rolling his eyes. "You mean 'court', Niles. And yes, I believe they are."

"Wow," Niles said. "I'm sure you're going to take Dad with you, but what about the other two tickets?"

Frasier thought for a moment. He'd been so stunned at receiving the tickets, he'd never even considered who else he could invite. He knew his father would suggest bringing Duke, or another of his buddies. But that would leave Frasier there with no one to talk to. Frasier welcomed the chance to bond with his father away from their everyday routines, but he also knew they could not keep a conversation going for however long the game may last. There was only one solution. "Niles..." Frasier looked back and forth from his brother to the tickets on the table.

"I know what you're trying to do, and the answer is no! I have a great deal of paperwork I need to catch up on." When Niles reached for a napkin to wipe his nose, both Crane boys knew Niles could not argue any more. "All right," Niles said. Then he smiled. "Well, if I'm going, then Daphne should come, too."

"Niles -" Frasier said.

"She's part of the family. This is a family outing," Niles said firmly.

Frasier sighed. There was no way around that argument. He suddenly found himself wishing he'd never helped Bulldog in the first place.