"Oh, Ginger, I do wish I hadn't gotten so mad at Gilligan." Mary Ann bent over the wash tub, scrubbing diligently at Gilligan's jeans through the warm soapy water while Ginger stood nearby, carefully pegging freshly washed garments to the line as though she were auditioning for a role.
Ginger tossed her flame red hair so that it caught the sun. "But you did warn him, Mary Ann, and he disobeyed you. I wouldn't feel too sorry for him. Goodness knows, I don't feel sorry for the Professor- it's almost ten o'clock and he still hasn't shown his face."
"I should have known it would all go wrong," Mary Ann went on, rubbing at a particularly stubborn patch of dirt on the seat of Gilligan's pants. "Once those men get an idea into their heads, there's no stopping them. I should have learned that by now."
"Gilligan had a choice," the movie star said, examining the lines of her orange mini-dress. "He chose to go out drinking and now he's suffering for it."
"I hope this isn't a taste of things to come," Mary Ann plunged Gilligan's jeans back into the water and scrubbed harder. "He's got to realise that he can't just go off and do what he wants now. And he mustn't let the others encourage him to start rebelling against me. I'm not trying to stop him enjoying himself, but I'm his wife now, Ginger. I have my needs, too!"
Ginger watched as Mary Ann kept rubbing and scrubbing at the same patch on Gilligan's jeans. She realised that her sweet-natured friend was becoming overwrought. "Mary Ann," she smiled, gently. "You do have a right to be angry, but it really isn't the end of the world. After all, you knew what Gilligan was like, but you loved him enough to marry him, and you can't let something as silly as this upset you so much. Why, it's been less than a week since the wedding!"
"Oh, I know that, Ginger, and I do love him, I do. But if he's still going to go running every time the Skipper comes up with a bright idea, I can see this marriage turning into a three-way affair, with me in the middle of those two, constantly being a spoilsport!"
Ginger pursed her lips prettily. "Hmm. I do see your point. They've been friends for a long time. But the Skipper was thrilled when Gilligan got married. I think you're worrying too much, Mary Ann, I really do."
"Maybe I am," Mary Ann admitted. "I do worry a lot, and I don't know why. Oh, darn these stupid...!" She flung the jeans back into the tub, splashing water and soap suds everywhere.
"Mary Ann, get a hold of yourself," Ginger said, startled at her friend's outburst. "Do you know what I think? I think maybe you should go back to the hut and be with your husband. Take him some food and some clean clothes and spend the rest of the day with him. He won't be hungover forever, and you really need to work this out, otherwise you'll just end up going around in circles."
Mary Ann sighed helplessly. "He was pretty much unconscious when I left, I don't see how being there is going to make any difference right now."
Ginger sauntered over and pulled Mary Ann's arms out of the wash tub. "It will make a difference," she said gently. "Come, I'll even finish the washing for you. That's how serious I am!"
Mary Ann looked with fondness at the glamorous movie star. Ginger could be a royal pain in the butt at times, but she always came through for her friends. "All right Ginger, if you insist," she said shyly. "I think I'll do just that."
Ginger hugged the Kansas farm girl and teasingly pulled on a pigtail. "I don't think you'll regret it," she winked.
# # # #
On her way to the Skipper's hut, Mary Ann bumped into a very subdued and white-faced Roy Hinkley emerging from the supply hut with his hand pressed against his forehead. He attempted to duck back inside when he saw Mary Ann approaching, but it was too late. She strode over and purposely looked him up and down.
"You look worse than Gilligan," she remarked, bluntly.
"And I probably drank less," the Professor smiled weakly. "Remind me never again to throw caution to the wind so foolishly." He attempted a charming smile, but Mary Ann just folded her arms and shook her head.
"You'll get no sympathy from me, Professor. Same as Gilligan and the Skipper."
"Oh, dear," the Professor sighed, looking suitably shamefaced. "Although I can't say I deserve any. Well, Mary Ann, seeing as you've caught me fair and square, might I ask if you've seen Ginger?"
"She's over at the washing line, doing the laundry. I think you should go and give her a hand, seeing as she's on her own. That'll make you feel better, and you'll be making yourself useful." Mary Ann tried to keep her face stern, but inwardly she was smiling at the normally straightlaced Roy Hinkley suffering from a hangover.
The Professor looked a little worried. "She's on her own? Er...maybe I'll catch up with her a little later."
"No, Professor, maybe you should go and catch up with her now," Mary Ann said, taking his arm and steering him out towards the jungle. "I don't think you'll regret it!"
Leaving the perplexed Professor behind, and hoping she had just done Ginger a favour in return, Mary Ann went on her way to the Skipper's hut. There she found Jonas Grumby sitting at the table with some of the remnants of the party still strewn around him, although the worst of the mess had been cleared up and the rum bottles thankfully put away.
"Hi Skipper. I just need to get Gilligan's spare clothes," Mary Ann said. It struck her how lonely the big man looked, sitting there all by himself.
"Sure, Mary Ann, go ahead," the Skipper politely stood up as Mary Ann came in. "I think his jeans are folded up somewhere over here, and his T-Shirt's hanging up in the closet. Here, lemme help."
Mary Ann let the Skipper bustle around the hut looking for his little buddy's clothes. There was a heavy feeling in her heart.
"Mary Ann, I hope you don't hate me," the Skipper said suddenly, as he unhooked the hanger with Gilligan's spare T-Shirt on it. "I know it was a wrong thing to do, and I regret it, believe me, I regret it. I feel awful this morning, just awful. I never meant for the party to get so out of hand."
"Of course I don't hate you, Skipper!" Mary Ann looked shocked. "Ginger and I had a long talk about it. It's really not the worst thing that's ever happened, and we've all learned from it, I guess."
"Well, I've sure learned not to throw a party for someone in the middle of their honeymoon," the Skipper smiled ruefully. "It just seemed like such a good idea at the time!" He passed her the clothes in a small, neat pile, and Mary Ann noticed how carefully he held onto them until he was sure she had them safely in her hands.
"Skipper, there's nothing wrong with having a party," Mary Ann said, touched at the Skipper's apology, for that's what it was. "Just go a little easier on the hard stuff next time. And maybe next time invite everybody."
The Skipper blushed almost shyly. "It's a deal, Mary Ann. The next party is for everyone."
# # # #
When Mary Ann arrived back at the honeymoon hut, Gilligan was still in bed. She put the clothes and food supplies down and set about opening the windows to let some light and fresh air in.
Her husband stirred in his sleep as a shaft of light hit his face. Mary Ann watched his tousled head moving on the pillow and felt a surge of emotions in her chest. She closed the window again. Gilligan rolled over onto his stomach and buried himself further under the bedclothes.
Mary Ann went over to the bed and sat down on the edge. She reached out and stroked the back of Gilligan's head, smoothing down his dishevelled hair. "Are you awake?" she said gently.
"Mmmm," was his muffled reply.
"Move over," she said, and climbed in fully clothed.
Gilligan rolled onto his side and let Mary Ann snuggle up with her back pressed against his chest. Then he folded his arms around her and wrapped them both up in a cocoon of blankets. "'S'nice," he murmured. "How come?"
"How come I'm in bed with you?" Mary Ann smiled and snuggled in further. "Because we're married, aren't we? For better or worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, 'til death us do part. And I'm not going to let some silly old party get between us!"
Gilligan buried his face in Mary Ann's neck. "I'll never do it again, Mary Ann, I promise."
"There are plenty of things we can do that are fun," Mary Ann went on. "Butterfly hunting and cave exploring, swimming, and you can even teach me how to climb a coconut tree at last. We can do all those things, and what's more, the next day you'll remember them."
"I like those things a lot better," Gilligan admitted. He pulled her closer, if that were possible, and ran his hand lightly over her stomach.
"What are you doing?" Mary Ann asked, as he passed his hand twice over the same area.
"Nothing," he replied.
"Don't say 'nothing', you're doing something."
"Nothing, Mary Ann. I'm just snuggling."
Mary Ann rolled over to face him. His eyes were heavy and only half open. "Just snuggling, hmm?"
"Yeah." He offered a sleepy smile.
"Nothing to do with what you came into the hut shouting about last night?"
Gilligan shrugged.
"'Mary Ann, I want to have children'?"
Gilligan looked embarrassed. "I'm sorry I did that, Mary Ann."
Mary Ann smiled. The heat of her husband's embrace was beginning to arouse her- she felt the tingles running up her spine and pressed her face into his neck. "I dread to think what you boys were talking about to make you come running into the hut like that," she said. "Were you talking about me?"
"They were teasing me," Gilligan replied. "They said if I was having lots of s...I mean, you-know-what, then I'd have lots of babies. I kind of remember some of the things that happened," he added quickly, in case Mary Ann thought he was withholding information.
"Oh, Gilligan, you weren't telling them about...about our you-know-what, were you?"
"No, Mary Ann, I mean, not exactly. I never said your name, I just said, well, I guess I just said I liked it. I liked you-know-what."
Mary Ann groaned. "I don't think you need to mention my name, Gilligan. They know who you're doing you-know-what with."
"I said nice things, Mary Ann. Really I did. I said I never thought I'd like you-know-what, never in a million years. And you know what, Mary Ann? I think I only like you-know-what because I'm doing it with you. I don't think I'd like doing you-know-what with anybody else."
"Gilligan, I'm very flattered, but I think you can stop saying that now, and you can certainly stop thinking about doing it with anybody else."
"Stop saying what, Mary Ann?"
"You-know-what."
"I do?"
"Gilligan."
"Oh, yeah, stop saying you-know-what." He giggled.
"Maybe you should stop saying it, and start doing it," Mary Ann hinted, pressing up against him and kissing him under the jaw. "Show me just how much you like it."
"What, now?" said Gilligan, although the way her hands had begun moving over his body left him in little doubt as to her intentions.
"Now."
"Right now?" He responded to her advances by squirming and protesting, but Mary Ann was relentless.
"Right now," she affirmed, making him gasp with a well aimed caress.
# # # #
"Gilligan! Gilligan, I'm stuck! I can't move!"
"Careful, Mary Ann, careful...wrap your legs around a little tighter. Tighter, tighter, that's it...come on, Mary Ann, hold on, don't be scared, you can do it!"
"Gilligan, this was a stupid idea, a really stupid idea! Whose idea was it anyway?"
"It was your idea, Mary Ann."
"Oh- well, remind me never to have any stupid ideas ever again!"
Mary Ann was about five feet off the ground, clinging to the trunk of the coconut tree like a limpet. She was too scared to go up and too scared to come down. Gilligan stood and looked at her, pondering his next move. It was clear, even to him, that she wasn't going to be able to make it any higher, and if she did, it would only make things worse when she realised she'd have to come all the way back down again. He reached for one of her arms, but her loud wail made him pull back immediately. He reached for one of her feet, but she moaned that she was going to fall. Eventually Gilligan took the bull by the horns. He wrapped his arms around her waist and bodily pulled her off the tree, ignoring her loud protests as her arms and legs peeled away from the trunk like velcro. When her feet were at last firmly planted on the ground, she stared at the red marks on her limbs and her face fell.
"Oh, Gilligan, I'll never be able to climb a coconut tree. I think you must be half monkey."
"Watch me, Mary Ann, this is how you do it," Gilligan instructed. He gripped the trunk with his hands and almost effortlessly propelled himself upwards using the soles of his feet. Mary Ann watched him bounce his way up the tree as easily as if he were going for a stroll in the park. "Want me to get you a coconut?" he called cheerfully, having already almost reached the base of the giant palm fronds.
Mary Ann put her hand over her mouth as Gilligan shimmied right up into the leaves and all but disappeared. The great fronds shook and trembled and then he appeared again, right up at the top.
"Hey, Mary Ann!" he called, grinning and waving.
"Oh, Gilligan, please be careful!" Mary Ann pleaded, remembering the time he'd fallen from a coconut tree and damaged his nose. She stood with her eyes riveted to the top of the tree as Gilligan began hacking at coconuts with his pocket knife. In no time, four huge nuts plummeted from the sky and landed with a whump on the sand.
"Below!" bellowed Gilligan about ten seconds after the coconuts landed, but Mary Ann knew her husband well and had made sure she was already out of the way. She breathed a sigh of relief as Gilligan slid back down the tree with his pocket knife clamped between his teeth and jumped the last couple of feet to the ground. As Mary Ann clapped her hands together and came forward, he took a low, dramatic bow and returned the knife to his back pocket, winced as he realised he hadn't closed the blade, took it out, closed the blade, and put it back in his pocket as though nothing had happened.
"My brave hunter-gatherer," Mary Ann cooed, sliding her arms around his waist.
"All in a day's work, my dearest," Gilligan replied smoothly, although his backside smarted from where he'd accidentally stabbed himself.
Mary Ann raised her face and kissed his cheek. Gilligan was getting better about kissing in public, but it depended on what mood he was in. This time he grinned playfully and ducked his head.
"Mary Aaannn!"
Mary Ann laughed softly. "Oh, Gilligan. You're so romantic!"
After tree climbing, they went cloud watching. Gilligan found the perfect spot- a sheltered patch of grass at the top of the cliff with nothing to get in the way of their view of the sky, which arced over them like a shimmering sheet of blue. Gilligan and Mary Ann lay side by side with their heads together, pointing out the different things they saw in every cloud that scudded overhead.
"Skipper's belly," said Gilligan, pointing to a single puffy cloud that was more rounded on one side than the other.
Mary Ann giggled. "Skipper's hat," she said, pointing at a smaller cloud not far behind. "Maybe it fell off while he was running after you for calling him overweight." She nudged the first mate playfully.
"An elephant on a bicycle."
"A mushroom wearing a toupee."
"A chicken about to lay an egg. Boy- it must be a big egg, sure looks painful."
"That one over there looks like a man and a woman kissing." Mary Ann pointed, determined that Gilligan should see the same thing.
Gilligan squinted and frowned. "No. It's more like a man eating a sandwich."
"No, it's a man and a woman kissing, Gilligan. Look, those are their lips meeting right in the middle."
"Looks like a pastrami on rye to me. With mustard."
"Gilligan, I know a man and a woman kissing when I see one."
"You do?" Gilligan kept watching the cloud. Suddenly he gasped. "Mary Ann! Cover your eyes!" he exclaimed, raising his hand to his wife's face.
Mary Ann laughed. "Do you see it?"
"Yes," Gilligan said, "but it's rude to stare at two people kissing!"
Mary Ann laughed. "What if we were the two people kissing?"
Gilligan removed his hand from her face and leaned over her. "What, here? Now?"
"Why not? No-one can see us. If the clouds can do it, why can't we?"
"I still think it looks more like a sandwich."
"That's because you're always hungry."
Gilligan studied Mary Ann's face for a moment, then dipped his head and kissed her softly on the mouth. Mary Ann murmured with pleasure and rose towards him and he slipped his arm supportively under her shoulders. After a couple more moments went by, Gilligan slipped his other hand under her blouse and began stroking her stomach in gentle, circular motions.
Mary Ann sighed. "Gilligan, you're doing it again," she whispered.
"Don't you like it?" he asked, his breath whisking over her lips.
"I like it, but I think you're doing it for a reason."
Gilligan smiled. "I like your stomach. It's nice and soft and round."
"I hope you're not saying I'm fat."
"No, Mary Ann. Just nice and soft and round." His hand kept moving in lazy circles over her belly, and suddenly Mary Ann knew exactly what he was doing.
"Gilligan, are you really hoping I'll get pregnant?" she asked gently, putting her hand on his.
Gilligan blushed. "I don't know," he answered truthfully. "The Professor said that you-know-what makes babies, and we've been doing lots of you-know-what."
Mary Ann blushed too. "Yes, we have," she admitted shyly.
"So, I was just thinking, it would be nice if we made a baby." Gilligan looked almost apologetic. "But if it did happen, I'd be scared."
"Oh, Gilligan, I'd be scared too," Mary Ann admitted. "But it would be nice, wouldn't it? If we had a baby. Our baby, yours and mine."
Gilligan swallowed. "I've never had a baby, Mary Ann. I don't think I'd know what to do."
"I've never had a baby either, Gilligan, and I'd be the one carrying it for nine months!"
Gilligan went pale. "You couldn't carry a baby for nine months, Mary Ann. You'd have to put it down sometimes, or let me carry it!"
"No, Gilligan," Mary Ann laughed at the way Gilligan was always misunderstanding things. "I meant I'd be carrying it in my stomach for nine months. It takes nine months for a baby to grow full sized before it's born."
Gilligan grew wide eyed. "How do you know so much about babies?" he asked.
"I'm a woman, Gilligan. It's my job to know."
"Oh." Gilligan thought about this. "So how come I had to hear it from Skipper and the Professor?"
"You didn't have to hear it from Skipper and the Professor," Mary Ann smiled. "I would have spoken to you about it eventually. I was just enjoying our honeymoon, and, um...you-know-what, before we broached the serious subject of babies. Little did I know it was going to become the subject of drunken discussion at a bachelor party for someone who wasn't even a bachelor anymore!"
Gilligan went an even deeper shade of red. "Mary Ann, do you have to keep reminding me?"
Mary Ann nestled into the grass and pulled him down on top of her. "I'm sorry, Gilligan. I promise not to keep reminding you." She kissed him again, slowly and passionately. "Imagine if we were brave enough to do it outdoors," she smiled coyly when the kiss finally ended.
"Do what outdoors?" Gilligan raised his eyebrows.
"You-know-what." Mary Ann giggled.
Gilligan gasped, then shook his head mock-reproachfully. "Mary Ann! What you said!"
"I know, aren't I naughty? But imagine it, Gilligan- under a full moon, in the lush tropical jungle..."
"Yeah, with the lush tropical bugs and the lush tropical gorillas and the lush tropical headhunters," Gilligan finished.
"I suppose you're right," Mary Ann sighed, "but still. Imagine it!"
After cloud-watching, they went exploring. Gilligan showed Mary Ann a set of smallish caves that only he knew about. Then he showed her some steam vents from the volcano that sent up small geysers now and again. As they were standing there, one of them hissed and spluttered and spat a little jet of steam into the air, and Mary Ann squealed and grabbed hold of Gilligan's T-Shirt and hid behind him. After the steam vents, Gilligan's stomach began growling so they headed back in the direction of their hut for lunch. On the way, they passed the cave where Gilligan would sometimes go and live when he wanted to be a Lone Wolf.
"Gilligan, did you hear something?" Mary Ann said, clutching his arm.
Gilligan's stomach growled again. "You mean that?" he asked.
"No, but it was like that."
"Maybe it was yours."
"No- it wasn't mine. Ssh...maybe we'll hear it again."
They fell silent and listened, and sure enough there was a noise that sounded a bit like Gilligan's stomach rumbling, but not quite.
"It sounds like it's coming from inside your cave!" Mary Ann whispered, scooting to a safe spot behind her husband.
Gilligan blinked. "Don't hide behind me, Mary Ann!"
"Why not?"
"Because then I can't hide behind you!"
"Oh, Gilligan. Wait! There it is again!"
They both listened intently. It sounded like a low rasping growl emanating from the small cave opening.
"Maybe it's that giant spider," Gilligan whispered. "Or a cave monster!"
Mary Ann put her hand on Gilligan's arm. "It sounds like snoring to me," she said quietly.
"So, it's a snoring cave monster!"
"I don't know, it sounds familiar. Listen."
Again they both heard the low rumbling sound. This time though, it was punctuated by a loud cry of "Lovey! I must protest my innocence!" right in the middle.
"That's Mr. Howell's voice!" Mary Ann exclaimed.
"Oh, my Gosh!" Gilligan cried. "The cave monster ate Mr. Howell!"
"No, Gilligan- I think Mr. Howell's in the cave!" Mary Ann let go of Gilligan and darted forward.
"Mary Ann, wait. I'll go first," said Gilligan, holding her back. "I'm braver."
"All right, Gilligan," Mary Ann smiled, noticing her husband's hands shaking. "But be careful!"
Gilligan got down on his hands and knees and crawled towards the small cave opening. "Mr. Howell?" he called tentatively. "Mr. Howell, are you in there?" Cautiously he approached the hole and dared to poke his head through. "Mr. Howell? It's me, Gilligan. Are you in there?"
"Oh, Lovey," came the voice of Thurston Howell III through the gloom, "will you ever forgive me for my misdemeanours?"
"Mr. Howell!" Gilligan crawled right into the cave and stopped. There was the millionaire, curled up in the corner under a blanket and clutching his beloved teddy. He was fast asleep.
Unwilling to wake the man up, Gilligan backed out of the cave and got to his feet. He told Mary Ann what he'd seen.
Mary Ann put her hand over her mouth and giggled. "It sounds like Mr. Howell's still in the doghouse," she whispered. "What do you think we should do?"
"I think we should leave him," Gilligan decided. "I'm probably the last person he wants to see right now."
"I agree," said Mary Ann. "I think we should just pretend we were never here in the first place!"
"I agree too," Gilligan grinned. "We'll only get ourselves mixed up in all kinds of trouble if we wake him."
"Come on," said Mary Ann, pulling her husband by the shirt. "Let's get out of here before he wakes up by himself!"
"I agree, Mary Ann, I agree!" Laughing, Gilligan ran off through the trees with Mary Ann following. Halfway down the path, Gilligan stopped and crouched down and Mary Ann climbed up onto his back, and Gilligan ran all the way back to their honeymoon hut with Mary Ann clinging to him and laughing like she didn't have a care in the world.