A/N: I'm currently having a bit of a GI marathon and have rekindled my love for the good ship Pinger. Professor and Ginger are 100% made for each other and nothing will ever convince me otherwise. The seething volcano and the glamorous movie star – it's a match made in heaven.

Dedicated with love and hugs and kisses to all Pinger shippers everywhere, and with extra special big hugs to my Teebs and JWood, because I love them.

Disclaimer: Gilligan's Island belongs to Sherwood Schwartz. Gilligan belongs to Mary Ann. The Professor belongs to Ginger. Skipper is his own man and the Howells belong to Teddy.

Hammer to Fall

"What are you doing here?"

Ginger's whole body tensed. She thought she had been so careful in slipping unnoticed past Gilligan, Mr Howell and the Skipper. There again, they were so busy being literally wrapped up in their monster costume, she was quite sure they wouldn't have noticed if she had skipped gaily past them wearing nothing but a wild hibiscus in her hair.

For a brief moment, and in her determination to sneak into the supply hut to retrieve the smaller hammer, she had completely forgotten that the Professor hadn't been with them.

"Wh-what are you doing here?" she said, trying to sound nonchalant. The Professor frowned slightly before folding his arms across his chest.

"I asked first."

"I asked second!"

Ginger straightened up and looked at the Professor. It had only been a couple of days since the girls had packed up and left for the other side of the Island in an attempt to finally get huts of their own, and she hadn't realised until that moment exactly how much she had missed him. Obviously, they were both still locked in a fierce battle of the sexes, so she couldn't possibly tell him that.

"I don't have to explain myself to you!" she said, tilting her chin in derision. "I have as much right to be here as you do!"

"I thought you girls didn't need us?"

"We don't!"

"Am I to take your appearance here as an admission of defeat?" he said, his blue eyes twinkling slightly. Ginger's eyes widened indignantly and a smile unconsciously spread across the Professor's face. She looked so alive and tenacious when she was angry. Sometimes he liked to pick silly arguments with her just to see that look in her eyes. Of course, he couldn't tell her that. The men were too busy trying to prove that they didn't need women at all, it would do no good to start building any bridges between the two camps just yet.

"I don't know, Professor. Am I to take your monster costume as an admission of defeat?" she asked, folding her arms and mirroring his stance. The smile fell from the Professor's face and was replaced with a sheepish look.

"What monster costume?" he said, guiltily. Ginger raised one perfectly manicured eyebrow and let out an incredulous 'hmph'.

"Don't give me 'what monster costume'! Who do you think you are, Cary Grant?"

The Professor didn't answer.

"The very idea that three grown women would be fooled into believing that thing was a monster! Wait until I get back to Mrs Howell and Mary Ann! I'm sure they'll have something to say about this!" Ginger said, shaking her head. She started moving bamboo poles and vine ropes out of the way in her search for the sledgehammer. There was no sense in hiding that she was definitely looking for something.

"What are you looking for?" the Professor asked. Ginger ignored him. "Ginger?" he said, his tone soft and warm. She paused but didn't look up at him. "Perhaps I can help?" he suggested. She pursed her lips and shook her head stubbornly.

"No thank you, Professor. I don't need any help from you. I may be just a woman, but I do have eyes in my head, and I know exactly what I'm looking for!" she said, rather theatrically. The Professor smiled indulgently as she continued flinging the contents of the supply hut out of her way in her quest for... whatever it was. He walked over to her, took hold of her arm and turned her to face him.

"Ginger, I am very firmly of the opinion that you, more than any woman I have ever met, have always known exactly what you want," he said, his voice tapering off into little more than a whisper by the end of his sentence. Ginger swallowed hard and forced herself to remember precisely what she did want at that particular moment in time.

"Hammer," she whispered. The Professor's eyes widened.

"Excuse me?"

"I came here to find the smaller hammer. The one we took is too big and it takes three of us to use it so I thought I'd come and get the smaller one," she said. She could have sworn she saw the Professor actually blush.

"Oh."

"Why, Professor! What did you think I meant?" she said, pinching her lips into a naughty grin. Her tone was innocent, but her facial expression was far from it. The Professor let out a wry chuckle and rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly.

"I didn't expect your wish list to include masonry items, that's all," he said, quite truthfully.

"Really?" Ginger asked. "And just what did you expect my wish list to include, Professor?" she asked, slowly sliding her hands up the Professor's chest and interlocking her fingers at the nape of his neck. He cleared his throat.

"Rope," he said. Ginger let out a gasp of surprise.

"What kind of girl do you think I am?" she demanded.

"You'll need plenty of vine rope to tie the bamboo posts together in order to make your huts secure," the Professor said. Ginger blushed and looked away from him, quietly hoping the earth would open up and swallow her whole.

"Oh."

"Why, Ginger! What did you think I meant?" he said, grinning wolfishly as he instinctively tightened his grip around her waist and pulled her closer to him.

"I didn't think you cared about the structural integrity of our huts, that's all," she said. His smile fell and he gazed into her eyes.

"Please, Ginger, never think that I don't care about you," he said, quietly.

"Really, Professor?" she whispered, leaning in closer to him.

"Mm-hmm," he mumbled, kissing her softly and quite, quite thoroughly.

Ginger reluctantly pulled away from him and clamped her lips together briefly. Neither of them said anything for a few moments. Neither were quite sure what to say.

"I'd best get back to the girls," Ginger said at last.

"I'd best... do something," the Professor said, not very helpfully. Ginger grinned at him.

"You've already done plenty," she said, crinkling her nose slightly as she spoke. The Professor thought, for a moment, that he had entirely lost the functionality of the Broca's area of the frontal lobe of his brain - the part that controlled linguistics and communication, as he had absolutely no idea what to do for the best. After all, they were still on opposing sides in the middle of a war! He was sure that no casual smooching ever happened between opposing sides during any war. If they did, it was a largely undocumented and rare occurrence which had no bearing on the final outcome. Besides, he was quite sure that it was only a matter of time before the women came running back to the men for their help and protection.

"Ginger?"

"Yes, Professor?" she asked, looking up at him with her large emerald green eyes. He paused for a moment, trying to keep her with him for every possible second. Eventually, he pursed his lips together and sighed.

"Don't forget to take the hammer with you," he said, reaching up to the shelf and handing it to her. She beamed at him.

"Thank you," she said. She paused for a moment before looking up at him. "You won't... you won't mention to the others I was here?" she asked. He shook his head. "And you won't tell them I know about their monster costume?" she asked. He grinned.

"Why should I?" he asked. "It'd ruin all the fun!" he said with a conspiratorial wink. She giggled happily, and without another word, slipped out of the supply hut and returned to Mary Ann and Mrs Howell. The Professor gazed at the doorway for a few moments, remembering every detail of the kiss they had shared, how soft her lips were, how perfectly and completely she fitted into his arms, how empty they now felt without her. He rubbed the back of his neck and turned to face the mess that Ginger had created in her search for the smaller hammer. "I guess this place won't clean itself," he thought aloud.

At that very moment, Gilligan breezed into the supply hut, swinging his arms carelessly.

"Hi Professor!" he said, cheerily. "Did we miss anything while we were gone?"

"Miss anything? No, of course not! Why would you miss anything? What would there be to miss?" the Professor asked, a little defensively. Gilligan shrugged.

"I dunno," he said, undeterred by the Professor's sharp tone. "Gee, Professor. You should see the monster costume we made! Those girls are gonna be so scared!" he said, rubbing his hands together in glee. The Professor smiled.

"Really?"

"Yeah, sure they will," Gilligan said, confidently. "The Skipper and I are gonna work on our roars this afternoon. Skipper does a kinda 'moowwwrrooworowowwwoowrraaaooowww' and then I come in with a 'uuuurrrruuuuurrrrroooooorrrrrrooooooorrrrr' and the girls'll see us outside in the dark and it'll look just like a real live monster and they'll scream and run away and come straight back to the camp and Mary Ann will say 'oh! Gilligan help me!' and then she'll see I'm not there because I'm in the monster costume with the Skipper so I can't possibly help her because I'm too busy trying to scare her and get her back to the camp because the girls can't live without us even though we've not had anything to eat in two days except bananas because none of us can cook and I've made holes in everyone's shirts and then Mary Ann will know that I tried to trick her into coming back and - oooohhh boy! Will she ever be mad!" he said, finally pausing for breath. The Professor blinked a few times, trying to process everything that Gilligan had just said. Eventually, he smiled and clapped Gilligan comfortingly on the shoulder.

"You know something, Gilligan?" the Professor asked.

"What?"

"Something tells me that your monster costume has a better chance of bringing us all together than you can possibly imagine," he said with a knowing grin.

THE END