DISCLAIMER: Please see earlier chapters. Both shows still owned by T(respective)PTB.

A/N: Once again, wheelchair basketball tips provided by Coach and the Home Team, who patiently tried to get me to fathom how one can push a chair and dribble a ball "simultaneously" (for one who has no eye-hand coordination, that means "in the same game.") I can't say that I could even come close to being able to do it myself, but I think I can now visualize it occurring... Huge thanks for the help! ;

But aside from that: Tony DiNozzo isn't the only one who's a product of the Big Ten! And if you'll recall, the name of the movie was NOT "Buckeyes!"

SEATTLE, WASHINGTON: February 10, 2020; 6:40 p.m.
43rd Street Recreational Center

Another time out, and the game had only six minutes of play left in the first half. This game was almost like league play, with referees and a timer, just to give the league players additional practice with rule compliance and using off- court time to their advantage. For Max, though, it reminded her that Bling and Tony had left maybe seven or eight minutes ago, even if it was only three minutes off the game clock with time outs and foul shots adding to the total, and her curiosity was getting to her. She saw Logan look back up to her and she waved, a big smile crossing her face as she saw him register that she was alone. He ought to really get a kick out of this, she'd promised Tony. Bling had too, although DiNozzo had seemed skeptical and surprisingly skittish, finally managing to voice his fear that Logan would misunderstand, and somehow see it as mockery, or pity, or some other, unvoiced reflection on how Logan now lived his life. They each had assured Tony that friends and family joined in all the time, that it was accepted and welcomed by those on the team, especially by the relative or friend himself. But now alone, Max knew how sensitive Logan still was about his physical status, how prickly he could be about things, especially those things, even if inexplicable to others. And while she'd never want to see Tony feeling uncomfortable with his cousin, the thought of Logan being hurt by Tony, of all people, no matter how innocently done, was something she hated to consider...

Once play resumed, she slid along the bleacher seat to slip down to the floor and walk back into the hallway, where she'd found Bling and one of the others, not dressed to play this evening due to a healing rotator cuff injury, coaching Tony as DiNozzo tried maneuvering a bright yellow, low slung court chair.

"Here–try another pass, down the hall. Get moving; I'll pass..." On his feet with his prosthesis in place, Aaron moved easily to turn and order Tony around as sternly as any coach or senior officer he'd ever had. "C'mon, move!"

But Tony's movement was sluggish, and he gingerly moved his hands to the chair wheels, awkward and self-conscious. He looked back up toward Logan's therapist to say, "Bling, I don't know that this is a good idea; what if Logan does take it the wrong way?"

"What wrong way?" Aaron barged in. Bling's mouth barely quirked in its appreciative smile ... he waited, saying nothing, knowing Aaron would handle Tony's concerns.

Tony hesitated, uncharacteristically uncomfortable. "I dunno ... as if I'm minimizing his injury, or ... aping him; something..."

Aaron snorted. "What if you are?"

Tony blinked.

Aaron continued, "It's not as if you'd be the first, if you did. Part of the territory, young guy in a chair. But I thought you two were close. For someone usually pretty quiet, Logan was practically babbling when he got here tonight, about how his cousin was in town and might make it to the game, how you two were out shooting hoops over the weekend ... and how you hadn't seen each other for a while. That's gimp speak for 'first visit after the injury.'" Aaron smiled wryly. "Logan may be an oddball sometimes, but I don't think he'd take this wrong. He's seen too many of the rest of us have family join in. He's never brought family before ... it probably means a lot to him that you're here."

Tony still looked skeptical, but was wavering. Another shared trait between the cousins, Max mused, looking on, stubbornness. "Maybe from me, though, it won't be as benign."

"Why, did you say something to make it that way?"

Again, Tony reacted in some surprise. "No. Or... No. I don't think so."

Max beamed. Aaron nodded once, curtly. "Good. So, c'mon, get moving. If you can get in at the end of the first half you'll get a chance to try it for a bit before going several minutes without let up." Max turned to head back out to the auditorium, still grinning. As she did, she heard Aaron behind her, still barking orders to Tony: "no, ten and three! You're not getting the power in your stroke that you can – grab the wheels at ten o'clock, and push through all the way to three...ah! Like that, yeah!"

Her smile quirked higher. She wanted a good seat for the show to come...

SEATTLE, WASHINGTON: February 10, 2020; 6:48 p.m.
43rd Street Recreational Center

The score was in their favor nearing the half, 33-24, as Logan heard the short blast of the ref's whistle. His own personal score was improving, too, as he'd just made another basket to make it eleven points to Corey's fourteen. He had worked his way up to being in a roughly three-way tie as the Monday night group's third best shooter, the second best usually playing in the team opposite Corey's, and the thought of besting the captain made him feel as if he were back in high school, playing endless summer games at the park, often the strongest shooter of the pick up games he joined.

He coasted only briefly before coming to a halt and turning, looking up to find that Bling and Tony were still missing. Shaking off the observation he started to pivot back as he heard one of the refs call "substitution – red team," and looked up to see the expectant look on the face of the virgin player.

"Ha! Fresh veal!" One of the blue team laughed, getting the heckling started.

Logan's usual fast retort on the court was slowed as he stared at the sight of Tony DiNozzo in a wheelchair not unlike his own, and he had a momentary flash of pain at the image of his idolized cousin as bound and disabled as he himself now was, the specter too real, given that between the two of them, it would have been more probable that the cop and federal agent end up with a bullet through his spine than the journalist...

But the moment passed as quickly as it came, and Logan took in the scene – his cousin was taking the spot that so many other friends and relatives had taken with this crew. Tony was joining him on the court, and as tradition held for at least this first game, would be put on his team, so Logan could offer some advice, some "D," and enjoy the game with him...

Tony waited for what seemed to be days as Logan's expressive eyes first saw him and for a moment filled with the look that Tony had dreaded, that he was mimicking his cousin now dependent on the chair. DiNozzo cringed with his decision to go along with the others' suggestion that he join the game ... until the look shifted almost immediately to a wide, boyish grin of delight that even Tony could be certain was for him. Forgetting the first look, DiNozzo managed to shove his way over to his scruffier cousin and apologize, "I didn't know how good an idea this was..."

"Why?" Logan asked immediately, pulling off his gloves. "Here – you'll need these more than I do."

Taking the proffered gloves, Tony realized quickly which reason he'd been mulling would be better at that moment, and started tugging on the gloves without question. "I'll slow you down," he half smiled. "You guys are winning."

"So we have some points to give," Logan still grinned, starting to move as the whistle blew. "...and you'll have a couple minutes to catch on." Seeing Tony hurry to pull on the leather protective gloves, Logan waited as play resumed and urged, "C'mon ... I got your back, cuz."

As the pair pulled onto the court, another member of the blue team took up the trash talk, siding up close to Logan, looking at both cousins as he jeered, "Hey, Cale – does he know how to play, or does he cheat like you do?"

"He's a government employee – he's better at it than any of us." Logan laughed. The very next moment, he abruptly dropped back his speed, having seen another team mate line up to take a pass from Corey to signal the pass on to Logan, who brought it up court, calling, "Tony, you know the rule, only two pushes per bounce, or it's traveling?"

"Yeah, but..."

"Good. Here." Logan pivoted neatly to bring himself between DiNozzo and a blue player, and lobbed a soft chest pass across to his cousin. "You do remember how to play off a screen, don't you?" He asked, grin widening, speaking quietly enough that only Tony would hear.

The flashed grin in response was answer enough. "Got a degree in it, remember?"

"Then let's see some of the ol' Buckeye magic." Logan's grin was dazzling now.

And with that shot in the arm, DiNozzo began his first, still-lumbering but slowly improving trip down the court...

SEATTLE, WASHINGTON: February 10, 2020; 7:31 p.m.
43rd Street Recreational Center

The whistle shrilled again.

"What?" Tony griped, knowing it was again leveled at him. The blue players around him snickered.

"Physical advantage." The ref yelled.

"Again?" Tony exclaimed, exasperated. It was the second time the ref had called him for using his legs, unconsciously pushing against his chair seat with his thighs when shooting, a rule added to even the playing field. He got a glare from the ref, but a shout of support from captain Corey.

"Good shot, though, DiNozzo; next time, huh?"

Logan had gone over to the bench when he heard the call, and now coasted up beside Tony. "Hey, at least they're offensive fouls," he urged. "Shows you're out hustling. Look, try this, it helps some of the ABs." Logan nodded over toward the one of the players Bling had identified as not being disabled. "See the strap he's got around his thighs, just above his knees? Here," he handed Tony a canvas strap. "Just helps you remember, and restricts your movement a little. I used to use one, when I started, different chair and less experience." He watched Tony cinch the strap, then looked up to watch as the shooter from the blue team missed the free shot. "Ha, see?" Logan encouraged. "Didn't convert on the front end of the one and one anyway."

Tony looked up at the shining green eyes before him, and smiled slowly at the enjoyment his cousin found in the game. "Put me in, coach," he quipped. "Got a game to win..."

SEATTLE, WASHINGTON: February 10, 2020; 7:54 p.m.
43rd Street Recreational Center

Tony had played about half of the second half, rotating in with a fairly new player who wasn't as strong as Tony generally, and who didn't have the wealth of plays in his head that DiNozzo had at his command. In the final minutes Tony found himself itching to get in to help, and spun onto the court like a pro when the substitution was called.

The clock showed thirty seconds and they were down one. A product of the Big Ten, even if it was largely on the fraternity's couch in front of the TV set, DiNozzo had seen more great coaching than the rest of the team put together, he knew – but it wasn't his place ... or was it?

"Corey – Logan showed me a move that he said couldn't be defended ... Logan?"

"Just the spin and shoot, but that's one on one, Tony. With several defenders..."

"No, that's just the start, cuz..." Tony grinned. "I've got an idea..."

SEATTLE, WASHINGTON: February 10, 2020; 7:59 p.m.
43rd Street Recreational Center

At the whistle, Bling sat forward to watch in interest at a set up he'd never seen the teams use before, and suspected it had something to do with the close huddle he'd seen moments before, in which Tony talked animatedly with the others. "Max," he said, "I think they're going to pull some trick play Tony's invented..."

Max had never been much for sports, but she came to watch Logan's games occasionally, where she was drawn in not by the games themselves but by the effect they had on the often grim, workaholic Logan. Bling knew she'd probably not be giving it her full attention but with his words, she looked more carefully at the positions they'd taken under the basket. The whistle blew and the play began...

The ball was snapped to Corey, their best ball handler, as the blues would expect. Seconds ticked away as the reds passed the ball easily and worked time off carefully, only their best ball handlers getting the ball so there would be no steals, as they worked to convince the blues they were setting up their best shooter for the final shot.

Ten seconds left, and with the ballet under the basket taking shape, the ball passed between Tony and Corey, with Logan coming around by the baseline almost behind the basket. The other team moved in place to counter the shot they expected from him, his magic hook from the side, off a lob pass from outside. But with a short nod from Tony, Logan suddenly executed a fast pivot away from the ball, and so away from defenders, to dart backward in a long, straight line past the blues and out in front of the basket, into clear territory. As Corey lofted a gentle hook pass to Logan, all alone in front of the net, the blues found themselves on the wrong side of a screen set up by the reds' earlier choreography. An easy, almost slow-motion shot left Logan's hands to arc gracefully into the basket, barely brushing net...

A cheer went up from the reds, and both cousins were rewarded with high fives and back slaps...

Logan and Tony turned from the others to grin widely at each other and pull together in a celebratory, back-slapping hug, interrupted in moments by Corey coasting over. "Not bad for a virgin, DiNozzo," the captain grinned widely, "and your coaching is alright. Mind if we send you some videotapes, and you could e-mail us some other plays?" he joked.

"Anytime." Tony grinned.

"And you weren't too shabby either, Cale," the captain turned to him. "Guess I'll have to fund my kid's tuition elsewhere."

"Why? What...?" At Tony's appearance, the bet had been forgotten...

"We tied, Cale. That last shot put us both at 26 points for the game."

"You're kidding," Logan blinked, the information completely unexpected. "I'd stopped keeping track."

"Got your head in the game." Corey nodded. "Good." He grinned again and pushed off. "Good game, gentlemen."

"Now I now why you got that PE degree," Logan laughed, looking over at Tony again. "You must have had a lot more fun in school than I did."

"I know I did," DiNozzo laughed. "But it was a lot more than just my major that did it, cuz."

"I have no doubt," Logan grinned back, and let his eyes move up to the stands to see Max on her feet and Bling beaming, both of them as taken with the moment as he. He waved, and turned back to his cousin. "Let's get some food," he tipped his head back toward the sidelines, and added, the evening moving on around them, "I'm glad you've got at least a couple more days now."

"Yeah, me too," they turned to move court-side, where Tony noted that a couple of the players suddenly got out of their chairs, the playing field no longer the even one of moments before. Still, he looked to his cousin with shining eyes, not moving yet. "Of course, we need to make some plans about getting together a lot more regularly than we have, these past few years. I hear that's why they invented holidays."

Logan nodded, laughing softly. "I'll work on it if you will."

"You know I'm going to." DiNozzo promised. With only a beat, he first pulled off Logan's gloves and handed them to his cousin, and pulled off the canvas strap as his cousin looked on, resigned to the game ending.

His voice a shade softer now, Logan spoke with the same warmth he'd been feeling all day. "You really got pretty good at this game." He even laughed, "I'll have to be sure to have an extra chair around for your next visit."

"Think I could borrow one til I go back?"

The light in Logan's eyes twinkled again at the thought. "I think we could arrange it..."

SEATTLE, WASHINGTON: February 10, 2020; 8:12 p.m.
43rd Street Recreational Center

Tony and Max had volunteered to take the extra chairs out to Corey's van, with one extra going into Logan's car for Tony use for his remaining time in Seattle, while several of the team regulars, Logan included, pulled together to discuss where the next games could be held. The community center would be unavailable for two weeks, shut down for a week of much-needed painting and floor refinishing, followed by a city basketball tournament cobbled together of local neighborhood kids' groups. Max and Tony spoke easily about the game and Tony's part in it, and Max even dared to point out to his cousin how much it seemed to mean to Logan to have Tony play. "He hasn't said it too often, but I think it bothers him, when people like Jonas and Margo think he's fragile now, or contagious... or that he's an alien, and that this whole disability thing is ... an embarrassment. As if he got shot just to stick it to them."

DiNozzo muttered something appropriately disparaging about his family, but wasn't really engaged as he did so. Instead, he was thinking about Max, how easily she handled all this, all the trappings of Logan's injury; she didn't seem cowed by the equipment or afraid of discussing it with him, as Tony still felt lingering at times, even with the strides they'd made over the weekend.

He would push it off on the fact that she'd been around ever since it happened, and had gotten used to things – if he could believe it himself. But he somehow knew that time wasn't it – for whatever reason, DiNozzo was certain, from the first moment, Max was able to see Logan amid it all, no matter his physical presence. He was hardly an expert, but assumed that such a response was a rare one ... just as she was a rare woman, for the circumstances of her conception, certainly, but for so much more than her pedigree. For her ability to rise above them ... for her ability to beat them...

How the hell could Logan wait even another minute?

They had come back inside to see that the group was still in a loose huddle, Bling in with them as they discussed their options. Near the door, the pair waited. Seeing that it might be a few more minutes, Tony leaned back on his heels, refusing to second guess the gift of this time alone with Max, and said, casually, eyes still on the players across the court, "You know, I dated this girl, once, who spent a lot of time trying to hook up her single friends, you know, an obsessive match-maker. Used to drive me crazy."

Max blinked up at Tony, and her surprised laugh was delivered with a puzzled, curious look at the completely unexpected comment. "So – what did you do about it?"

"Dropped her," he grinned at her, to continue, grudgingly, "or ... maybe... in all that matchmaking she found herself a better match for herself than me. Point being..." he went on, expansively, pleased she'd taken the bait so readily, "I hate matchmaking, the whole thing." He was quiet for a few moments, letting the anticipation get her attention – a surefire interrogation trick he'd developed and used with some frequency – and when he heard her laugh a little to herself, saw her shake her head from the corner of his eye, he smiled a little at his success, and said softly, "you know my cousin is as stubborn as they come, right?"

There was only a slight beat before she answered, but a beat. Good. She was listening ... and thinking. "Oh, yeah," she chuckled. There was a lift of affection in her wry response, he noted – and nodded a little to himself.

"And ... that he never much thought he was worthy of anyone's attention ... at least, once he hit adolescence." Again, the pretty face turned to him, and again looked surprised – but this time, her surprise carried a protective concern for his complicated cousin. DiNozzo noted with interest that she didn't look skeptical. Most people did, though, if they hadn't grown up in circumstances similar to Logan's. "I heard you've had the pleasure of meeting Jonas and Margo – and as charming as they seem now, they were even worse when they were younger, hungry for even more than they had, looking for more and jealous as hell of everything Robert Logan Cale, Sr. and his family had going for them." Tony's voice was quiet and calm, but clearly carried traces of bitterness he felt for their behavior. "Suddenly Robert and Sarah were gone and their son, without a home. Jonas and Margo made life hell for Logan as some sort of weird, gloating payback for the life he'd lost. Nothing physical, but it was psychological abuse, clear and simple." Tony looked haunted at the thought, remembering the terrible loss Logan had suffered at such a vulnerable age, and the completely undeserved treatment he received from his aunt and uncle. "He just suffered in silence, never told anyone about the continual belittling and goading he took from Jonas, especially, until Bennet said something, years after the damage was done." He sighed. "Logan believed them. When two adults, family, no less, told him he wasn't as bright or as gifted or as worthy as their own boys, he believed them – how's a kid supposed to know that the adults caring for him can be vicious and petty? Some kids, maybe more easily, but Logan was too good natured for that, had been too trusting, given how close he'd been to his parents." He looked at his cousin across the court, who was now leaning in, listening to the planning session, joining in a sudden burst of laughter that erupted from the bunch. At least he still could laugh, Tony thought, grateful for the fact.

"He never said..." Max mused, watching Logan as well with her soft, large eyes carrying touched understanding. "Just that he was the black sheep ... and that Jonas needed to see him as a loser..."

"The second part is true, but he was never the 'black sheep' -- or at least, he never did anything to deserve that description." Tony said. "His only crimes were to be brighter than his cousins, and to be a continuing reminder to Jonas that neither he nor his family ever quite measured up to Robert's."

Max snorted softly in sad reflection. "All this time I figured Logan had it made, plenty of money and everything he could want, a family all in one place... I guess family isn't always all it's s'posed to be."

"No, and neither is money. Another thing that may have worked on Logan too ... at some time or another, every kid from a wealthy family gets the Talk – but not the one other kids get. Everyone else gets the birds and the bees. Wealthy families always manage some way or another to tell their children that anyone who shows them attention only wants their money, that it's not interest, but avarice. Kids are told that unless the person they're seeing is as wealthy as they are – or more so – any attention paid to them isn't because they're fun or good looking or interesting, but because they have money. And even caring families warn about such things, because they love you. I suspect Logan hadn't heard it yet from Sarah or Robert, he hadn't started dating when they died – but even they would have found a way, if they saw any signs of Logan falling prey to the prowl. I can just imagine how Jonas or Margo handled it," he glowered, still protective.

"With family like that..." Max trailed, then considered, the revelation particularly moving to someone who'd for so long thought the answer to all things was just finding her own 'family.' And all the fuss I've made about finding them, blowing off his history because what he had ... what I thought he had ... maybe it was worse to have a family like the one Logan had with his aunt and uncle than none at all... "And you know, after he was shot" Max continued, thoughtfully now. " ... none of them came to see him. And only Bennett called."

Tony nodded, "Yeah, and you know all that had to make things worse. Put the guy in a chair, he just figures it's yet another reason he's damaged goods ... just as he's finally living the life, making his own way without his family's dramas tying him down, he suddenly gets his legs pulled out from under him – literally."

If you only knew, Max thought... of course, he's back up and running again, living his life – his lives, she corrected, but his uncle's treatment still permanently colored his world... "All that ... and it's amazing he came out of it with his head intact." she looked back up to the special agent.

Tony relaxed a little, feeling he'd made his point, even if not exactly as cooly as he'd planned. As they stood waiting to meet up with Logan, seeing the band of players ending their discussion, Tony drew a final breath to intrude on Max's silence and suggest, "Well, all that ... he probably needs a nudge, now and then." He wavered, then corrected, "No, make that a swift kick, and several nudges before and after." DiNozzo finally turned toward the deep brown eyes to offer, "Any doubts you hear from him, any uncertainty or distance – it's just all the old baggage talking, Max. Not you; not what's in his heart. Don't let him get away with it." He saw the brown eyes meet his boldly, clearly reading his meanings, and urged, "Don't let him get away..."

Max glanced back up at the green eyes so like Logan's, and shrugged, "You think maybe he gets a vote?'

Tony smiled knowingly. "His was cast a while before I got here – you forget – I got to watch his face, when you walked in with me that first day, unexpectedly." She didn't speak, but her eyes asked him to say the words, to confirm it for her. "I've seen Logan when he thought he was in love, Max, and I've seen him infatuated. But 'til this week, I'd never seen him truly, completely in love. I wasn't certain I hadn't, before." The romantic in Tony, the affection he had for his cousin, made his smile widen as he assured her, "He saw you there, and the look he gave you..."

"He looked cornered – like he had been hoping you'd get in and out of town without having us meet." Max challenged, rolling her eyes.

"I know." His eyes twinkled. "Not what you usually see from him, is it?" He saw in her eyes that he was right, but that she hadn't figured it out as he had. "He was self-conscious with me there, afraid he'd let something slip, blurt out how he felt, something that he thought would embarrass us all." He shook his head. "Like a shy kid in junior high. But then when he was getting dinner ready, and you were helping out..." He shrugged. "I have to keep reminding you people what I do for a living. I'm good at reading people, Max – especially when I've known them for as long as I've known Logan." As Bling and his cousin neared them, and his time alone with Max was fast ending, Tony murmured, "...you are loved, Max, by one of the best people I have ever known. You may have to help with that nudge ... but if you can get through that stubborn head..." He didn't finish, but simply smiled as the two others joined them.

"Sorry to hold things up..." Logan apologized, and looked up at the pair. He hesitated a moment, his eyes narrowing slightly as he saw two faces looking entirely too chipper and innocent. They'd been discussing something, he knew, but wasn't sure if he wanted to take on their combined forces. He snorted to himself slightly, relaxing, and looked up toward Bling, then the others. "Well, I have a rather large vat of chili and some other things back at home for dinner, but we have a patient here who should have gone home an hour ago. Who shouldn't have been here in the first place." He corrected, glaring in affectionate consternation at his trainer. "But I have a pretty big debt to work off..." He looked back to Max and Tony, "so I propose we take it all over to Bling's, and he can relax and maybe even get away with being gone so long, without Sandra finding out and having to kick his ass."

But another matter had occurred to Max, and her brown eyes suddenly darkened with how the question would drain the enjoyment from the group. "Tony..." She really hated to ask, but if it was his last night in town, it should be spent by the cousins, alone. "How much longer will you be able to stay?"

To her surprise, each smiled in some comfort, the same discussion between them earlier, and Tony assured her, "Both Parks and his mother's arraignments were continued until Wednesday morning. There's a red eye back to the District Wednesday night. So I'll be around til then."

She nodded, her relief for Logan evident, knowing how much Tony's presence had meant – and at the look on her face, Tony grinned knowingly for them both. Just a matter of time, he assured himself... "Then I'm in," Max was smiling widely, at the group, "unless you're not up for a party, Bling."

"Logan actually thought to ask me that, before he suggested the party," Bling answered with a wry smile, assuring her, "it would be good to have you all there."

"Just long enough for dinner," Logan warned.

"Wouldn't have you any longer," Bling's solemn voice was belied by the grin he wore. With his pledge to make it an early evening, the four set off again outside toward their vehicles. Coming out of the building toward the parking lot, Logan saw Corey loading the equipment duffel into his passenger seat and, stopping suddenly, apologized to the three with him, "Oh, sorry, but... let me have another minute? I almost forgot something..." At the others' nods, he set off across the parking lot toward the team captain, who pivoted at Logan's voice calling his name. Logan crossed the thirty feet or so between them, then turned to dig into his backpack. "Got something for you..."

As he did, Corey's eyes lit with understanding and some uncertainty. At the sight of Logan pulling a ten from his wallet, Corey raised his hand and with a rueful laugh, shook his head. "Oh, no, man; it was a tie. Neither of us won."

"The bet was that I'd outscore you – and I didn't. Nearly did, though." Logan's grin was as dazzling as if he'd actually won that bet as he handed the bill to his captain. "Next time, I'll get it back."

The man hesitated only the moment, his own smile widening, before reaching to take the offered currency. "I'll bring this back next week, then." Corey riffled the ten in the air between them before shoving it in his pocket. "See you next time."

Logan pivoted to come back toward the three waiting for him, and again reflected that despite everything that brought Tony to Seattle, their coming together had meant even more to him than he ever could have imagined...

And now all three wore expressions that made him pause, suddenly self-conscious: Max was smiling softly, that little look of affection there again that he'd seen in his training room, that morning; Tony grinned in his lingering enjoyment of the game and the simple – and complex – pleasure of sharing an afternoon of basketball with his cousin again; and Bling...? Bling was grinning widely, as if he himself had made the winning shot that day – and Logan realized suddenly that he had, and what Bling was taking as a victory was as equally Bling's as it was his own. With a blush, without being able to engage any clever thought in the focus of such emotional scrutiny, he blurted "What?"

Of course it was Tony who responded. "Just basking in your basketball greatness, cuz." His grin widened into the patented DiNozzo grin, full of charm and genuine joy in the moment. "But now I'm ready to pack in some of that chili... so let's get the wounded man home and dinner on his table."

As Tony set off toward Logan's car, and the others moved to follow, Logan watched in renewed amazement at the wonders his cousin had managed. He'd always known Tony could do anything; every kid who had his own hero felt the same. But how many were so lucky to find, even three decades later, that his hero's invincibility was really true?

To be continued...