Eliot responded to that little bit of ribbing with a lingering, smirking look, regarding James from under lowered eyelids while he took a long pull of his cigarette. Like okay, I see you.

If it came off as slightly flirtatious? That was just the way his face worked, really.

He readied himself by passing the ball in between both hands, just so James could get a look at how the weight landed in his palms. No magic here, see? Nothing up his sleeve. The ball rolled, easy as you please, hopped upward, bounced off the rim of the 30-point bulls-eye, and settled down into 20.

Eliot shrugged a shoulder. It was nothing special, but now they were tied.

"No super-powers required."