"Uh, Ginger, would you like to go for a moonlight stroll?"
Ginger was surprised. It wasn't like Gilligan to make the first move. Then again, any move he made at this point could hardly be described as first. She'd been flirting with him for so long, and now she'd offered herself to him. Still, it was a big and promising step for him to approach her.
Unless he simply wanted to talk to her in private and let her down easy. Well, it wouldn't be the first time he rejected her, and she would take it, as usual, more as a sign of his backwardness than of her unattractiveness.
If it was, in fact, a yes rather than a no, she was ready for that, too. Well, more ready than she'd been earlier in the day.
The Professor had apologized for startling her and then explained about the snake, to her secret amusement, since he couldn't possibly imagine the truth about the snake's death. Then he went to tell the Howells, leaving her and Mary Ann alone again.
"So it's not dancing you're going to teach Gilligan," Mary Ann said quietly.
"Right. How do you feel about it?"
Mary Ann shrugged. "It's nothing to do with me. I should go start dinner."
Ginger couldn't tell if Mary Ann was really indifferent about it, but since she hadn't objected, Ginger decided to go ahead with the plan. That was, if Gilligan was willing, and Ginger didn't know about that yet.
She'd been amused at dinner, listening to the others, especially when they went on and on about the dead snake. Even if things didn't go anywhere with Gilligan, at least she was able to derive amusement out of their secrets. The poor boy was either too embarrassed or too hungry to have as much fun with it as she was. If he were as sophisticated as the men she knew in Hollywood, the two of them could've exchanged glances both mischievous and flirty. But if Gilligan were like a Hollywood man, she never would've made her offer.
Even his invitation to go strolling was shy and uncertain. She realized suddenly that he would lose that quality if she trained him as a lover. Well, she'd do her best to at least see that he'd become confident but not conceited.
Not only hadn't Gilligan met her eye at dinner, but he hadn't spoken directly to her. It was only now, as she was finishing washing the dishes, that he said anything, and that invitation was what he started with.
Once she recovered from her surprise, she dried her hands on her apron and said, "I'd love to." Then partly to test him and partly to get back to her usual glamorous appearance, she turned her back to him and said, "Could you untie my apron?"
"Oh, you can leave it on. It looks nice on you."
She tried to put her face into a neutral expression when she turned to face him again, not showing her amusement or disappointment. "Well, thank you. Where should we take our stroll?"
"The lagoon?" he suggested, as if it didn't really matter. It wasn't a bad choice, but if she did end up training him in romance, she would have to make clear the importance of physical setting in setting a mood. Well, that applied to any kind of mood, not just romantic.
"All right."
Gilligan walked too quickly to fit the definition of strolling. He'd glance over his shoulder to make sure she was keeping up, but it wasn't like they were going hand in hand. She had to assume he was impatient to get to the lagoon so he could give her his answer. If it was yes, then one lesson would be that the journey was at least as important as the destination.
When she arrived at the lagoon, he gestured that she should sit. She looked around and then as gracefully as she could perched on a waterlogged log.
Gilligan then paced back and forth in front of her, saying, "Ginger, I've got a lot to say, so please don't interrupt until I get to the end. Number one, I'm very flattered by your offer but." Here it came, the rejection. She wondered if it was her line or his that they could still be friends. Maybe that only applied to break-ups. Well, since he didn't want her to speak yet, she'd give him the first chance to say it. She did still want to be his friend, although things might be awkward between them for awhile. At least in Hollywood, she wouldn't run into a particular man every day, year after year.
He continued, "But I want to make sure this is something we're both comfortable with."
She wanted to say that that was very sweet of him, but she again bit her tongue and tried to be patient.
"So I think we should take it slow, and if either of us ever wants to end it, that's OK."
This time, she nodded, although he was looking away and didn't see it.
"Also, you probably guessed that I tried to tell the Skipper but couldn't. I didn't know he was going to blab to everybody else, but I guess we can let them think that, at least for now. Maybe later we can tell them the truth, but it's not like it's any of their business, except that we all get curious about each other. But this is different."
She nodded and wondered if she should tell him that Mary Ann knew, but she thought that might embarrass him more. And it wasn't like she and her roommate had discussed it in any detail. She certainly wouldn't be making progress reports to her friend.
"The other thing is, well, two things. One is I don't love you. I mean, not like a boyfriend would. I like you a lot and I admire you and obviously I've noticed how beautiful and sexy you are." Gilligan broke off, as if he'd said too much. He looked nervously at her.
She wanted to tell him that she didn't mind at all and she was attracted to him and fond of him, without being in love. But he wasn't finished yet and she wouldn't interrupt. So she held up two fingers.
"Victory? Peace? Air quotes?"
She supposed she should be glad he hadn't guessed she was making an obscene British gesture. She used both hands for a Time-out T, united Vs as a W, and then a one-handed O.
"T-W-O— The Twonky! You were great in that!"
He probably was her biggest fan. That was one of her earliest movies, back when she was a teenager, and she only appeared briefly, on a screen onscreen, when the Hans Conried character tried to turn off the television that had a mind of its own.
She spelled out the word again, twice in a row.
"Twoe twoe? Tutu? Oh, two. Yeah, two is, um, well, I might not be any good, even after you teach me. I was never a good student, and, well, I never even kissed a girl before I met you." Now he looked at her with puppy-dog eyes.
He was terribly sweet and insecure, nothing like the men she was used to. It was very appealing. She wanted to reassure him, but even though she could presumably speak now, it wasn't the time for long speeches. So she stood up and simply said, "There are two ways to remove a lady's apron."
"Two," he echoed as she moved closer.
"This is tonight's method," she said, taking one of his hands and placing it on her hip.
He swallowed. "OK."
"Relax, Gilligan. You learned about knots in the Navy, right?"
"Yeah, but they weren't on girls."
"You can pretend I'm a mast if that would help."
"You're not exactly shaped like a mast."
She laughed. "Thank you." She'd leave sweet talk for another lesson.
She kissed him softly, not trying to overwhelm him for once. He hesitated for a moment and then not only kissed back but put his other hand on her other hip. She put her arms around his neck and kissed less softly. She felt his hands move to her back. He undid the knot at the back and then one hand undid the knot at her neck, but they were standing too close for the apron to fall. In fact, they pulled each other closer.
And she opened her mouth, trying not to startle him with her tongue. For now, she just lightly licked his lips and then waited to see his response. After a pause, he licked back.
She wasn't sure how far to take things tonight. She was enjoying this even more than she'd hoped. Well, she'd always liked kissing Gilligan, but it was even better when he was as interested in it as she was.
At least she assumed he was. But he pulled away first. "This is great, Ginger," he said a little breathlessly, "but we should probably get back before the others start to wonder."
She nodded. They'd have to arrange a date where they could spend more time together, the sooner the better.
He looked down at the sand. "Oh, your apron." He reached down and picked it up.
She couldn't help it, she asked, "Would you like to tie it back on me?"
He stood straight and swallowed. "OK." He handed it back to her and she slipped it on, thinking that she'd never realized before that an apron could be as sexy as a negligee under the right circumstances.
Gilligan left his hands on her back for fifteen minutes after he retied the knots. A lot of kisses happened in those fifteen minutes. The last was a goodnight kiss, and then they separately returned to camp.