All right, I'm very sorry that I've had to make Ducky go for England. I mean, he might, but I realise that, being Scottish, there's a good chance he'd go for whoever's playing against England, but let's just let it slide for the sake of fiction, 'k?

Dated 2006, before the Ashes. Hopefully an example of things to come.

Gibbs strode into Autopsy with Kate and Tony in tow, and stopped short. Up on the plasma, Ducky had placed a picture of men in white milling around 'pon a field of green.

"Ducky?" he menaced.

"Hush, Jethro! It's 9 for 190, chasing 201 to win. One man to go!"

"Uh… what?" asked Tony, and Ducky turned a scandalous eye upon him.

"The Ashes, Anthony!" and, seeing Tony and Kate's blank faces, "Cricket! By God, what do they teach young people these days? I remember…" but he was suddenly arrested by movement on the screen.

"Who's…" Kate began, but Ducky held up a hand. Jimmy's eyes, like Ducky's, were glued to the screen as the bowler began his run. The batsman hit the ball with ease, and it rolled to the boundary for a vital 4.

Ducky breathed again.

"Who's playing?"

"Caitlin! It's the Ashes. Australia pitting their best against the mighty English! And this is the last over- England 8 to win!"

"This again. Look, Duck, I need those results…"
"No Jethro. I'm most terribly sorry, but you'll have to wait a while more."

"Ducky…"

But he was lost in concentration, his eyes following the little white ball as it flew down the pitch. The batsman tapped it down the field, and ran desperately for the wicket as the Australian fielder scooped up the ball with ease. Gibbs turned to Kate and Tony and saw them transfixed. He sighed, and walked out of Autopsy. It was like this every year. And Ducky had gotten so excited last year when England won. Gibbs hoped sincerely that England would win- not for the honour, not even for the glory, but simply because if Australia won, Ducky would sit despondent at his desk all day. And if Australia trounced the Pommes, Ducky wouldn't even be able to bring himself to crack the ribs of a fresh cadaver.

As he entered the lift, he heard the solid thwack of ball striking bat, the gasps of Kate and Tony, and then no more as the lift doors shut.

------------------------

Gibbs looked up from his case notes into the wise, weathered eyes of Doctor Donald Mallard. "Ducky."

"Yes Jethro?"

"You are hovering."

"Mmm hmm."

"And it is annoying."

Ducky sighed pathetically.

"They lost, didn't they?"

"I am very much afraid… that they did."

"Well, I have some work to take your mind of it."

"Jethro, I really… oh, very well. What is it?"

"An autopsy. On a marine called Sergeant Donald Bradman. He…"

"Oh… oh you must be joking Jethro. What is his name?"

"Donald Bradman. Do you know him?"

"Oh, Jethro. Oh Jethro! I know of him. Alas, only too well." Ducky sighed. Gibbs continued to look blankly at him. "You know," said Ducky, walking away, "I don't think our poor Mister Bradman will really help take my mind off the Australian Cricket team, Jethro."

Okay, not the best story I've ever written, but I had to get it off my computer! Hope you enjoyed it!