I was in a Gilligan mood after reading a couple of fics, and thought I'd try this. Just a one-shot, set the night of the shipwreck. Or early morning, going into the second episode of the first season.
Gilligan shifted, feeling uncomfortable under Mary Ann's head. And Mr. Howell's feet a tad too close to the groin for his taste. It was a beautiful sunrise, the stars on one side of the island, the rising light on the other. No one was up yet. No Skipper to yell orders.
A perfect morning.
If nobody was using his body as a cushion. Mary Ann he didn't mind (sort of), but Mr. Howell's feet had to go somewhere else. Trying not to wake anybody, he removed the feet onto the Professor, and Mary Ann onto the Skipper.
Ugh. Like a jet plane with asthma.
He was shocked at how the others fell right to sleep, despite the Skipper snoring. Gilligan had known him since the Navy, when Skipper's name was Jonas Grumby. Gilligan liked Skipper better. But they had met when assigned as bunk mates.
He remembered cowering at the Skipper's big build, how the Skipper had laughed at it, how he had said it was nice to meet you, how Gilligan stopped worrying about bullies after the Skipper was through with them.
He had first stuck up for Gilligan after several other trainees had started to get rough with the poor boy, just because he was "too weak," too "soft spoken," too "Willy Gilligan."
He hated his first name. Willy. Thank the Navy for calling people by their last names, otherwise the rest of them would have made fun of that name.
Anyway, Skipper had stuck up for Gilligan. He had protected him in the Navy, and thanks to that Gilligan barely passed. Just barely.
Afterwards, they had went into business together as tourers.
Leaders? Tourists? No, that's what the tourists are called. I'll have to ask the professor what they're called. He's the smartest here.
Up until that tour. It had all started normally, Gilligan asking random people if they wanted to tour the Hawaiian Islands. His jaw had dropped when the Howells appeared, and he nervously asked them if they wanted one. Mr. Howell had declined, but the Mrs. had taken pity. She convinced him, and Gilligan thought the Skipper would be so proud.
I mean, I did get millionaires to tour with us. Of course, he had to top it off with Ginger . . . .
Next was Mary Ann, who made Gilligan stutter a bit before the "hi" came out. She had given that pretty smile that made his knees tremble, and had given him the money. That made three people he had reeled in. Skipper had asked the Professor and Ginger, and then they were off. Up until Gilligan saw the storm clouds gathering.
"Skipper, should we be scared about those clouds?"
"Naw. It'll blow right over, just you see."
Boy, was Skipper wrong!
And here they were, three days later. Gilligan was at the edge of the forest now, sitting under the palm trees. The sun was pushing the stars back, claiming his land. Gilligan wanted to be the sun. To be able to push back all others from his way in life, to control it. To have power.
And now, the grand finale . . . And it was over. The sun was just sitting on top of the ocean, balancing itself before going any farther. Gilligan realized that, put aside the Skipper, the sun was his role model. It had power, it knew what to do, and, best of all, it was the brightest in the sky.
He wanted everybody to know his name.
And not just Gilligan, but Willard Peter Gilligan. My full name.
But for now, they were a bunch of castaways. They were going to be stuck here for a few days, then get rescued. And then he would start new, become famous, and be known around the world like Ginger.
Oy. I'd give anything to have the courage to ask for her autograph.
He got up, the sunrise now over. The forest wasn't at all like in the movies. There wasn't a path, no, but it was fairly easy to explore. Gilligan found a blueberry bush about ten minutes in. He grinned, picking a few before going back to the boat. They were ripe and juicy, perfect for paradise.
If this was. Yesterday it didn't seem like it when he lost the transmitter and radio. They found it (thank you god), but they were probably still all mad at him. Well, he'll just make it up with a fresh breakfast.
He grabbed a container from the stash of what the crew savaged, and went back to the bush. He filled it about a third through before spotting a blackberry bush. It sprouted with both raspberries and blackberries, he noticed. Gilligan went over there and filled the rest of the bowl.
He went back to camp, a full container in hand. By now, everyone was stirring, and the Skipper was yelling Gilligan's name.
He started running, trying to be careful with the breakfast. "Skipper! Lookee at what I found! We have more food other than coconuts now! And- *WHUMP*" He tripped and fell, spilling the precious berries. Gilligan gaped at the wasted food, then got the bowl and started to try to fill it with what wasn't touching the sand.
The skipper sighed, watching him pick up the berries. they're just berries. We can go to the store and- BERRIES?
"Gilligan! Where did you find berries?" he got down on his knees, helping.
"I'll show the girls as soon as we get . . . That's enough, I guess." He sighed.
"Yeah, yeah. GIRLS!"
Gilligan set back for the clearing, the girls now picking berries. They had found grapes, strawberries, bananas, and tons of other fruit. He saw the Skipper cooking breakfast.
"Can I do anything to help?"
"Sure Gilligan. Sit down and-"
"Shut up." Both finished.
Always. Sit down and shut up. You know what? One day Skipper, I'm going to be the sun. I'm going to show you who's the skipper Skipper!"