This is a quieter chapter than the others. A 'bridging chapter', if you will. A chance for MA/G to regroup and reflect, which I think is important for them after what they've been through. Bear with me, dear reader- spy shenanigans will resume ASAP :)
Mary Ann awoke from her slumber to find Gilligan sitting patiently by her bed. The red of his shirt and the white of his hat swam into focus along with the familiar surroundings of her hut as she yawned and blinked her tired eyes.
"Hi," he smiled, showing a dimple in his left cheek.
"Gilligan," she murmured, smiling back at him. "How long have you been there?"
"Oh, not long." He didn't want to tell her it had been nearly two hours.
Mary Ann tried to sit up, but Gilligan put his hand on her shoulder and pressed her gently back down into the bed.
"Professor left me in charge while they went to look at the boat, and he told me to make sure you rested," he said, wagging his finger at her when she frowned.
"I am rested," she replied. "I must have been asleep for hours! Besides, I'm dirty and I need a shower."
"Okay," Gilligan conceded. "But Professor says you're not to do any work today, so don't go try making dinner, either."
"Gilligan, it's wonderful that everyone cares, but the sooner I get back to normal, the...oh!" Mary Ann tried to sit up again and suddenly went dizzy. "My head is spinning!"
"You see? You're still tired. You need more rest."
"I'm sure even Rip Van Winkle didn't need this much rest," Mary Ann complained, but nevertheless she sank back onto the pillows and pulled the blanket up around her chin, letting the warmth and softness of her own bed envelop her. What a difference this was from the cold, hard ground inside that horrid cave!
A few moments of companionable silence passed and then Gilligan spoke again. His voice was low and hesitant.
"Mary Ann, seeing as we're alone...can we talk?"
Mary Ann turned her head on the pillow and peered at him curiously. "Of course we can talk, Gilligan. What do you want to talk about?"
"Well," Gilligan shifted uncomfortably in the chair. He crossed and uncrossed his legs, folded and unfolded his arms, scratched the back of his neck, frowned, pursed his lips, and finally settled on a slightly self-conscious pose with his knees pressed tightly together and his hands interlocked tightly between them. He took a deep breath before continuing. "Yesterday, when I thought the spy was you, she did a couple things that made me...well, that I didn't like. I got angry and ran away, but she followed me, and..." he shifted again, and looked away at the ground. "She told me she wanted to make me jealous."
Mary Ann's eyes widened. "Jealous? Of what, Gilligan?"
Gilligan chewed on his bottom lip before answering. He was still looking at the ground. "I guess, of the way she was acting towards Skipper and the Professor. As if she liked 'em better than she liked me."
Mary Ann was horrified. "That's outrageous!" she spluttered. "Why would she want to make you jealous? Why would she even consider that you would get jealous? It sounds as if she was just trying to cover up another one of her many mistakes. "
"But I did get jealous!" Gilligan said, plaintively. "And then she asked me, if we were such good friends, how come we weren't married? Me and her. I mean, her and me. I mean, her and you. I mean, me and you. She was being real pushy trying to get me to talk. She made me start thinking about things I don't like to think about. Things that I try not to think about, because they're so big they make my head hurt."
Sensing that Gilligan was about to start panicking, Mary Ann reached for his clasped hands and gently separated them. She threaded her fingers through his and squeezed them reassuringly. "But that wasn't me, Gilligan," she said, softly. "You know that I would never do anything like that."
"I know you wouldn't!" he agreed. "That's what made me suspicious! But even so, Mary Ann. Even though it wasn't you, she still made me think about those things." Gilligan lifted his eyes from the ground and looked at her. "And then, when I saw you in that cave, how you could have nearly almost died, I couldn't stop thinking about...those things."
Mary Ann couldn't help smiling at the way he kept saying 'those things', as though whatever things they were, they were big, scary, grown-up things that stopped him from being his usual, carefree self if he let them intrude too much.
"Gilligan," she began, gently. "We're friends, aren't we?"
Gilligan nodded, mutely.
"And we'll always be friends, won't we?"
He nodded again, more enthusiastically this time. "I sure hope so," he said.
"Then let me tell you something, Gilligan." Mary Ann smiled and squeezed his hand again, running her thumb gently over his bony knuckles. "I've liked you from the first day we met. From the day we set out on the Minnow and you were running around as though being First Mate of a two man charter vessel was the most important job in the world. You were so happy that day. They say that first impressions count, and my first impression of you was of someone who made the very best of everything that came his way, whether good or bad, happy or sad. You struck me as someone who really cared, and I could see right away how much you adored the Skipper. And I remember thinking how lucky I would be if I had someone like you in my life. Someone who put his all into everything, no matter what. Someone who greeted each day with a smile and always had a good word for his friends. And then look what happened."
Gilligan stared at her, wide-eyed. "Look what happened? We got shipwrecked is what happened!"
"Yes," Mary Ann laughed. "And I got my wish!"
Gilligan looked puzzled. "I don't understand."
"Don't you see? I wanted someone like you in my life, Gilligan. And I got what I wanted. In fact, I got better than I wanted. I got you."
"Only because of an accident," Gilligan said, sticking out his lower lip.
"Accident?" Mary Ann smiled. "Or fate?"
Gilligan thought about that for a moment. "You believe in fate?" he asked. "I know Skipper does. He's superstitious like that."
"Well," Mary Ann replied, "I know that sometimes when we look back on certain events, they can appear to have been more than just coincidence."
"Now you're talking in riddles," Gilligan said, his puzzled look returning.
"Oh, Gilligan!" Mary Ann laughed again. "In simple terms, I like you. I like you a lot. And whatever those things are that you don't like to think about, I can assure you that I won't ever stop liking you. No matter how long I have to..." she stopped suddenly, realising she had almost said too much.
"How long you have to what?" Gilligan asked, curiously.
"Nothing. It doesn't matter."
"No, Mary Ann, what were you going to say?"
Gilligan had that determined look now, and Mary Ann knew he wasn't going to give up until she told him what had been on her lips.
"No matter how long I have to wait," she sighed.
"For what?" he asked, bewildered.
"For you to feel the same way," she admitted at last.
Gilligan shuffled nervously on the chair. His fingers turned and twisted inside Mary Ann's as he tried out half a dozen new positions before settling into exactly the same one as before.
"Those are the things I don't like to think about," he confessed. "The things that hurt my head."
"But you do think about them, don't you?" she asked, a trace of hope in her voice.
He nodded. "I think about them a lot. Even when I don't want to. And even more since yesterday."
Mary Ann met his gaze and returned it with solemnity. "Don't let those thoughts scare you, Gilligan," she said softly. "You know I would never, ever do anything to hurt you. Besides, sometimes I have some pretty scary thoughts myself. Did you ever think of that?"
Gilligan smiled. He looked slightly sheepish. "I guess not," he said. "I guess I'm always too busy thinking of my own."
Mary Ann tugged on Gilligan's hand, just enough so that he could feel it. He looked down at both of their hands, then he looked directly into her eyes.
"I think I liked you on that first day too, Mary Ann," he said, his voice so low that it was almost a whisper. "I guess I just never realised how much, until I almost lost you."
Mary Ann's eyes lingered on his a moment, then she let her gaze fall to his lips.
"Gilligan..." she began.
But somehow Gilligan already knew. He leaned forward over the bed and kissed her softly on the mouth, letting his lips rest against hers for as long as it took for both of their hearts to start beating rapidly. He drew back slowly into a sitting position, his face flushed with embarrassment mixed with pride at having been so bold.
"Gilligan!" Mary Ann smiled, delighted. "What made you do that?"
He blinked. "You wanted me to," he asserted, shyly. "Didn't you?"
She blushed and lowered her eyelids. "Yes, Gilligan, I did," she admitted.
"Gee," he grinned, pushing his hat to the back of his head in relief. "I got something right, at last!"
Agent 222 peered through the bushes surrounding the campsite. He was not in the best of moods. Never in his worst nightmares had he envisaged himself returning to this wretched place and confronting these aggravating castaways ever again. He had hoped for the return of his old face, his old life, spying for his country in much more glamorous locations than this! Paris, Rome, Budapest, places where the people were used to dastardly, underhand behaviour and even practised it themselves. Places where he could play his nefarious games and match his wits against theirs. Not this place, where everything could be turned on its head by one man, and one man alone.
One man called Gilligan.
It was bad enough having to live for the rest of his life with Gilligan's face, but having to see him again in person was making 222's blood pressure rise by the minute. He sank further into the bushes as Gilligan and Mary Ann emerged from the girls' hut with bright, happy smiles on their faces.
"How sweet. But you will not be smiling for much longer," he muttered, half to himself, and half to the two youngest castaways as they stood close together outside the hut.
"I'll be all right now, Gilligan," Mary Ann said. She lifted her hand and rubbed his arm and 222 saw the red marks on her wrist. He narrowed his eyes, wondering what torture his over-zealous colleague had put the girl through.
"Are you sure?" Gilligan replied.
The boy was clearly reluctant to leave her, 222 decided.
"Yes, I'm sure. I intend to take a shower and get changed into fresh clothes, that's all. I promise I won't exert myself."
"Don't try to do too much, either," Gilligan told her, firmly.
222 shook his head in exasperation as he remembered how simple, and yet how difficult it had been to imitate this strangely innocent, gangly young man.
"I won't," said Mary Ann. "You go on down to the beach and see what the others are doing. I'll be fine."
"Okay," Gilligan conceded. "But don't leave the huts until we come back, okay?"
"Okay," Mary Ann nodded. "I promise."
With that, Gilligan gave the girl a hug, pulling her into his arms as though his life depended on it. 222 watched with raised eyebrows as Mary Ann hugged him back, burying her face in his neck. Then the two youngest castaways parted and Gilligan began walking backwards, never taking his eyes off Mary Ann, waving and grinning at her until he reached the end of the clearing and finally turned onto the jungle path that led down to the beach. Mary Ann waved back, laughing and smiling until he was gone, and then she shook her head fondly and went back into the hut, re-emerging moments later with a towel and a fresh set of clothes.
Good, thought 222. The place will soon be empty. I have time. And if I don't have time- I must make time.
Mary Ann turned the corner past the Howells' hut and was gone. The campsite was quiet except for the sound of birds and the late afternoon breeze rustling through palm fronds. 222 pursed his lips and took a deep breath. Then he came out of the bushes and ran, crouched over and stealthy like a fox, to the open door of the Supply Hut.