A/N - I have decided to add another chapter to this story. In honor of my buddy's birthday ;) I wrote A Night with Super-Gilligan. I changed the rating to "M" as it . . . well . . . the story mandated it. If you don't like "M" ratings, feel free to not read . . . but if you read it . . . and you like it . . . let me know :D
Happy Birthday, Teebs ;D Hope you enjoy the addition!
CHAPTER 1
A DAY WITH SUPER-GILLIGAN
Gilligan strolled through the jungle on his morning rounds. He had delivered fresh water to the water trough; he had collected firewood for MaryAnn to cook with; and now, he was collecting fruit to feed everyone for the day.
He approached a coconut tree and tilted his head way back to see how many nuts were up there. His hope was that if he brought back enough of them, it might just enter MaryAnn's mind to bake him a pie. He set his collection basket down, wrapped his feet around the trunk and started to shimmy up the tree.
As he climbed, he reflected back at how he had to teach himself to get up to the nuts at the top. This accomplishment was something he was quite proud of. Sometimes, he felt that his abilities to provide for the Skipper and the passengers of the Minnow – all the fruit and seafood he brought back - were overlooked by the others . . . taken for granted.
Not MaryAnn though. She always thanked him, and complimented him when he brought provisions back to the clearing. That was one of the things he liked about her. He used to feel invisible around people. But she sees him. Not only that, she smiles at him.
And lately, these last few weeks, she's been kissing him, too . . . or holding his hand. Nothing huge, just a peck on the cheek here, a hug there . . . just enough to let him know that he's special to her. Everyone said that she liked him. He knew that she did. He liked her, too; and he knew that she knew it. She figured that out a few weeks ago, when he almost lost her over the cliff. He kissed her that day – right in front of everybody.
He got to the top of the coconut tree and pulled out his machete. While he held his position with one hand, he swung with the other, sending 10 coconuts down, one at a time. Then he put his machete back in his sash and shimmied on down at a good clip. He used to come down slowly, carefully; but lately, he's been working on getting faster at it. He liked feeling just a little bit reckless – not too much, though – just a little.
Gilligan came strolling nonchalantly into the clearing. He had his machete in his hand and he had been whacking the branches as he walked down the path. Not that it needed clearing, he just felt like whacking.
He laid the machete and his collection basket on the table, just as MaryAnn came out of her hut. He smiled at her.
"Wow," she said. "You've been busy. Would you like me to help you get some firewood?" she asked with a smile.
"Oh, I got some already. It's by your oven." He smiled proudly.
"Oh, wonderful. How about the water. I can walk down to the stream with you."
"Nope, did that too." Now his smile was getting a little smug.
MaryAnn laughed. "Gilligan, really. What would we do without you?" And she started to peek through the fruit and plan breakfast. "You've got a nice variety here. It'll make a wonderful fruit salad for breakfast."
Gilligan pushed the basket over a little and sat up on the table. He was thinking that, maybe, if he scooted over just a little more . . . maybe . . . she might kiss him. He wasn't quite brave enough to make the first move; but if she did, he wouldn't mind.
"Hey, MaryAnn," he said, as he scooted just a little closer, sending a mango rolling.
"Yes," she answered, reaching to grab the mango before it went over the edge.
"MaryAnn, will you . . ."
At that point, Professor approached the table carrying some of his lab equipment. "Oh, Gilligan, I'm glad you're here. Have you seen my funnel – the small one? It's missing."
"I think Mr. Howell has it. He was spiking the pineapple juice in his little flask last night," Gilligan answered, giggling.
"Thanks," answered Professor, and he hurried off towards the Howell's hut.
MaryAnn looked back at Gilligan. "Will I, what?" she asked, with her huge eyes batting at him.
"Well, I was just going to ask you . . ."
"Gilligan," Skipper yelled from his hut.
"Yeah, Skipper," he yelled back, huffing just a little impatiently.
Skipper poked his head out the doorway. "Little Buddy, I want you to collect some palm fronds after breakfast. We've got some repair work to do this afternoon."
"Sure, Skipper." He sighed.
He looked back at MaryAnn. Then he looked around to see if anyone was walking towards them, or looked in any way like they were going to interrupt him again. She giggled and bit her lip.
"Yes, Gilligan?"
"MaryAnn, I was just wondering if . . . "
"MaryAnn," Ginger said, running up from the girls' hut. Gilligan's shoulders slumped. "I have GOT to talk to you." Ginger continued. "You're not going to believe this." And she pulled MaryAnn by the arm back towards the girls' hut, whispering frantically.
MaryAnn looked back at Gilligan with apologetic eyes. He shrugged. He was used to it. Ginger was always being dramatic. She probably walked by Professor and flirted with him, and he said "hi" to her . . . or something equally silly. Girls always went nuts over silly stuff, like that.
While he waited, he put the fruit back into the basket and motioned to MaryAnn that he was carrying it back to her work-table by the cooking area. She nodded at him over Ginger's shoulder.
He got to her work-table and picked out some of the fruit. Then he got a couple of knives and a bowl and started to make a fruit salad.
A couple of minutes later, MaryAnn escaped Ginger's clutches and came back to the cooking area. She smiled when she saw Gilligan already cutting up fruit. He looked up at her and smiled back. Then he handed her a papaya and one of the knives.
"What were you going to ask me, Gilligan? I think it's safe now." She giggled.
"I was just going to ask you if you'd go on a picnic with me for lunch?" he asked, bashfully.
"That's a lovely idea. But won't you have to help Skipper with the hut repairs this afternoon, though?" she asked.
"I don't think so. He usually just has me collect the palm fronds, then he and Professor do the repairs. I tend to mess up that part." He shrugged.
"Well, then, it's a date," she said, and she stood on her toes and kissed the tip of his nose.
He grinned . . . and blushed . . . and his heart was pounding out of his chest.
They didn't talk anymore, while he finished making the fruit salad. As he put it all in the large bowl, MaryAnn whipped up a platter of pancakes. They carried the breakfast to the table together. Everyone else was starting to gather.
Gilligan could not stop smiling. He really didn't even realize that he was smiling, until Skipper started looking at him funny. "What," he giggled.
"Why are you smiling?" Skipper asked.
"I'm not smiling," Gilligan said, smiling.
MaryAnn hid her face behind her napkin and tried not to laugh. Ginger looked at her from across the table and winked.
Mr. and Mrs. Howell glanced at Gilligan, then at each other. Mrs. Howell was smiling, demurely.
Skipper, shaking his head, glanced up at Professor, who smirked and then glanced at Ginger.
Gilligan just sat there, eating his breakfast, smiling widely throughout breakfast. Every few minutes, someone would ask him a question, and he would just giggle in response.
MaryAnn went back and forth between laughing and blushing. She was well aware that everyone at the table (except, maybe, Gilligan) knew that she was the reason for his strange behavior.
Finally, everyone had finished eating, and started heading out to whatever little island adventure they had planned for the day. Gilligan tied on his machete sash again, and went into the supply hut to get the wheelbarrow to put the palm fronds in. Skipper followed him in, watching to make sure that MaryAnn went in the opposite direction towards the water barrel to do dishes.
"All right, Gilligan. What's going on with you?" he demanded.
"What?" Gilligan asked. "Can't a guy be in a good mood?"
"You're not just in a good mood. You're downright giddy."
Gilligan giggled again.
"See," said Skipper. "There you go again."
"I'm just happy, Skipper. MaryAnn said she'd go on a picnic with me, and I'm just happy, that's all." And he pushed the wheelbarrow out the door, calling over his shoulder, "I'll be back in a little while with your palm fronds."
After doing the morning dishes, MaryAnn and Ginger went for a mud-bath for an hour. Ginger was torn between wanting to interrogate MaryAnn on Gilligan's state at breakfast, and re-living the brief conversation she had had with Professor earlier that morning. As she had already told MaryAnn all about the conversation with Professor, she decided to grill her about Gilligan.
"So," Ginger said slyly, with a sexy grin. "What exactly did you do to make Gilligan so giggly at the table this morning?"
"Oh Ginger, really." MaryAnn said, somewhat exasperated. "I just agreed to go on a picnic with him . . . and kissed him on the nose," she added with a giggle. "He was just in a good mood, I guess."
"I'll say," added Ginger. "What do you think his plans are for that picnic?" she asked with a wink.
"GINGER," MaryAnn admonished. "You know perfectly well what a gentleman Gilligan is. He doesn't have any diabolical plans." Although secretly, she wondered what would happen if she had diabolical plans. She smiled to herself as she closed her eyes and indulged in a little picnic fantasy.
An hour later, Ginger had talked out all the possible scenarios that could take place on the picnic, and MaryAnn was growing increasingly nervous about this picnic. Not that she thought Gilligan would try anything; more that if anything did happen, Ginger would know it the minute MaryAnn walked back into the hut.
MaryAnn pulled herself out of the mud hole. "I'm going to go rinse off now and fix some lunch for my picnic, Ginger. I'll talk to you later, 'kay."
"Damn right, you will," Ginger said with authority. Both girls laughed.
MaryAnn rinsed off at the waterfall, then wrapped a towel around herself and walked back to her hut to get dressed for lunch. She decided to wear that cute little, light blue dress with matching kerchief. She brushed her hair out and pulled it into a ponytail.
When she was dressed, she went to her cooking area to put together some food for her and Gilligan's picnic. Just as she was coming into the center of the clearing with her picnic basket and a blanket to sit on, Gilligan came into the clearing pushing a full wheelbarrow.
"Hi," she called. "Will you be ready soon?"
He took one look at her and gulped. "Uh, yeah, I just gotta tell Skipper that the palm fronds are out here." Wow, he thought, as he went to find Skipper, she sure looks great.
He found Skipper and Professor together in the supply hut, getting some tools together. "Hey, I'm back with the palm fronds," Gilligan said.
"Okay, thanks, Gilligan," said Skipper. "Are you heading off with MaryAnn, then?" he asked, with a wink.
"Yes, sir," Gilligan answered, blushing. He backed out of the supply hut and went to join MaryAnn.
"Want me to carry some stuff?" he asked, as he took the checkered blanket from her. Then he looked at the blanket, unfolded it, and glancing at MaryAnn with a grin, he threw the blanket over his shoulders and tied it around his neck – much like a Superhero cape.
"Fear not, fair maiden," he said with his hands on his hips and using a deep voice. "I'll protect you." Then he pulled out his machete and attacked a bush behind her. "Take that, you fiend," he yelled.
"My hero," MaryAnn said, shaking her head and laughing. She could see that she was in for an afternoon of adventure.
Gilligan asked MaryAnn where she would like to picnic, and she chose the hidden ledge that he occasionally used for a hide-out. The view was spectacular, and it was a beautiful spot to spread out a blanket . . . not to mention, secluded, she thought to herself.
As they traipsed through the jungle, Super-Gilligan kept MaryAnn entertained by fighting off fearsome foes - such as the gangsters, Fat Frankie and Tuxedo Tom, and the pirates, Peg-Leg Pete and Buccaneer Brutus. When Gladys, the chimp, and her baby came tromping towards them, Super-Gilligan flew down the trail with his machete swinging wildly, shouting over his shoulder, "Fair Maiden, hide, quickly – it's a horde of brain-eating zombiefied chimpanzees." MaryAnn laughed out loud at Gladys' outrage as she scooped up the baby and ran back into the deep jungle.
By the time they got to their hidden ledge, MaryAnn was exhausted by the adventure and her stomach hurt from laughing. One of her favorite things about these outings with Gilligan was his never-ending ability to make her laugh. Two other favorite things of hers were his thick eyelashes and his huge dimples.
They hugged the wall and walked the narrow passage out to the ledge. This part always made MaryAnn just a little nervous; but then, when they broke out onto the ledge, the view was so amazing that she immediately forgot that she ha to walk back that way again to leave.
She reached up and untied the blanket from Gilligan's neck, and ran her hands through his hair a little, as she did. A shiver ran down his spine, and he gulped.
She spread the blanket with a flourish, and they quickly had to sit on it, when a gust of wind hit them. Gilligan sat on the opposite side from her, but then she scooted over a little closer. He gulped again.
He made himself busy by unloading the food and drinks that they brought with them. She had surprised him by stopping at the honey tree that morning and bringing some fresh honey to spread on their poi rolls. It was always such fun for her to come up with treats for Gilligan, as he was so enthusiastic over food.
"MaryAnn, this looks great," he exclaimed, with his eyes bright. "You're such a good cook."
"Thank you, Gilligan. You know how much I enjoy making things for you," she said shyly, playing with the hem of her dress. She looked at him with her big, brown eyes, smiling.
"MaryAnn, can I ask you something?" he asked. She nodded, as she had just taken a bite of poi roll and honey. "I feel kind of silly asking this, but . . . are you – am I . . ." He sighed heavily. "Am I your boyfriend?"
"Um . . . well," she thought about it. "We do hang out a lot together." He nodded. "And sometimes, I kiss your cheek or hold your hand." He nodded again. "So, I guess . . . I'd like to think of you as my boyfriend . . . is that all right?"
He thought about it for a minute. Then he shoved a chunk of banana in his mouth, and nodded. "Yeah, it's okay. I was just wondering." And he continued to enjoy the feast set before him.
MaryAnn chuckled, then she, too, continued to enjoy their lunch. Throughout the rest of their lunch, they made small talk – just chit-chat about nothing. Then, when they were done eating, MaryAnn started to pick up the food wrappings and cups, and packed them back into the basket.
When everything was picked up, Gilligan looked at her, then around at the blanket. "Do you want to go back, or stay up here for a while?"
"We can stay for a while, if you want," she said.
He laid back and hooked his fingers behind his head. "The clouds are pretty, today. That one looks like the Minnow," he said, pointing to a boat-shaped cloud.
MaryAnn laughed and lay back, too. "Yeah, it kind of does. How 'bout that one over there? What do you see?"
"An elephant riding a unicycle," he answered immediately. She burst out laughing. "No, no. I'm serious – look." He scooted over so his head was closer to hers. "See? Right there is the elephant's trunk pointing up, and right down there – see the wheel?"
She still laughed. "I don't see it. You're making that up."
He laughed, too. Then, he stopped laughing and looked at her seriously. He got up on one elbow.
"You're not going to give me a wet willie again, are you?" she asked, cautiously.
He grinned. "No, fooling around like that wouldn't be safe up here. Actually, I, uh . . . I was thinking of kissing you," he said, blushing crimson. "Would that be okay . . . you know, seeing that you think of me kind of like a boyfriend . . ." his voice trailed off.
She sat up, nodding. He sat a little closer to her. He was nervous, and he wasn't quite sure which way he should hold his head – to the left or the right. She chuckled, reached her hands up to each of his cheeks and held his head still. Then she tilted her head to the left, and he leaned down slowly. She closed her eyes and waited for his lips to touch hers.
When they did, she snaked her hands the rest of the way around his neck, then ran one hand through his hair. After a few moments, he reached his arm around her back and held her a little closer. The kiss deepened.
Gilligan felt like his insides were exploding with fireworks. His heart was pounding, and there was a warmth flowing through him like he had never felt before. Finally, he pulled back and looked at her cautiously.
She opened her eyes and smiled brightly at him. "I think you'll make a great boyfriend," she whispered.
He smiled bashfully. Then he looked back up at the clouds. "Oh look," he exclaimed. "There's a coconut cream pie," he said, pointing to a long, narrow cloud. There were actually little wisps of cloud rising up, that looked like the pie was steaming.
MaryAnn laughed, and threw her arms around his waist, hugging him tightly. He stiffened for a second, before he looked at her, and relaxed. Then he put his arm around her shoulder, too.
They stayed up there for another half hour, finding the silliest things in the clouds and laughing uproariously at them.
Finally, MaryAnn looked at Gilligan, and took his hand in hers. "Gilligan," she said, suddenly all serious. "If you want me to bake you that pie, we have to head back."
"Okay, let's go!" He jumped up and pushed her off the blanket so that he could fold it. She lay on the moss, laughing. "Come on, MaryAnn, get up. We gotta get going." He grabbed her hands and pulled on her arms, trying to stand her up, but she was laughing too hard.
Finally, though, she got to her feet. He picked up the basket and then reached out with his other hand to hold hers, as they passed over the narrow passage. When they got back into the jungle, she expected him to let go of her hand as he usually did . . . but not this time.
He held her hand and swung their arms wildly. Every once in a while, he'd pull her frantically along, saying "Come on, we gotta hurry. You gotta make a pie!" and he'd get her laughing all over again.
They approached a fallen tree across the trail. Gilligan said, "You know, one of these days, I gotta come out here and chop this up. It would clear the trail and give me a good load of firewood. One of these days . . ."
He reached back to help MaryAnn over it. It was high, so she had to lift her leg up high over it, and held his hands for balance. It was tricky going, with that short dress on, and she was trying not to give Gilligan an "R" rated view. She looked up at him and saw that he was averting his eyes.
When she finally got over the log, he still held both her hands. When she glanced back up at him again, he was looking back at her. "Can I kiss you again?" he whispered.
She put on a serious face and answered, "But the pie . . ."
He actually thought about it for a minute, before grinning and saying, "Just a quick kiss, then."
It was an offer she couldn't refuse. She stood up on the tips of her toes and put her hands on his shoulders. He put his hands on her hips, and leaned down towards her. He closed his eyes and kissed her. Almost immediately, though, he straightened back up. "Okay, that's enough – come on. Letsgo-letsgo-letsgo." And he pulled at her hands again and was practically running.
"Gilligan, let go," she laughed. "I can't go that fast. Stop it." He was pulling, and she was struggling, fighting him.
Finally, he just scooped her up and threw her over his shoulder. With her hanging practically upside-down, screaming at him and pounding at his back, he started to jog back to the compound.
When they finally stumbled into the compound, MaryAnn was kicking her feet and trying to squirm out of his grasp. He put her down carefully, and then fell to the ground, exhausted. "Wow. You look tiny, but you sure don't feel tiny."
"What?" she squawked. And she threw herself down at him and started tickling him.
"MaryAnn," he whined. "Cut it out. Stop-stop-stop." He was gasping for breath. He grabbed both her hands, and for a minute, she couldn't break free. He held them tight and brought his face close to hers. She stared into his eyes and prepared for a kiss. When he got right up close, he whispered, "Go make me a pie."
Later that evening, MaryAnn and Ginger had cleared the dishes off the table. Gilligan was watching MaryAnn with an expectant look on his face.
She laughed. "If you think I'm giving you any pie after you told me I was heavy, think again, Super-Gilligan." She set a huge coconut cream pie down on the table and handed Skipper a knife to cut it. Then she sat down next to Gilligan and tried to hold both his hands, so he couldn't get any. "No pie for you," she laughed.
With a determined look, Gilligan broke away from her and disappeared around the corner. When he ran back, he was wearing the blanket tied around his neck again. He was swinging his machete wildly, yelling "Don't worry, everybody. I'll save you! I will dispose of this dangerous pie. No, No! No need to thank me." And he jumped right over the table, amid yelling and hollering from the other castaways, grabbing the pie as he flew over the top. And Super-Gilligan disappeared into the jungle, clutching the "dangerous" pie, giggling like a mad-man.