Peach Sky

The sun shined in the sky over Bikini Bottom on Sunday morning. As it did, the clams chirped, alarm clocks went off, and people were waking up. As they did, they got dressed, got ready, and went off to work. Or, at least most of them did.

For once, Squidward Q. Tentacles was not one of those people. Usually, he would wake up at seven in the morning, groggily brush his teeth, dress in his signature brown shirt, and head off to work.

But not today. Today was Sunday, meaning that Mr. Krabs, for once, allowed him and his neighbor, SpongeBob SquarePants, to have the day off. He had been more generous recently, and allowed them to have Sundays off, which they didn't a few years prior.

At nine o'clock, the sun shined through the window of his two-story, tiki-styled home. For the first time in ages, Squidward had neglected to put his eye-mask over his eyes, and was almost instantly awakened by the beaming, radiant light. He softly moaned, and his eyes slowly opened, taking in the full extent of the ray.

"Ah… morning, already?", The cephalopod asked out loud, as he closed his eyes, rubbing them with his two hands. Squidward then got out of bed, yawning and stretching his arms as he did so.

"Well, might as well shower and get ready for the day. What could be a perfectly good day off that will most likely be ruined by those buffoons that call themselves my neighbors…", He muttered, as he walked into the bathroom.

Squidward then slipped off his pajamas, removing his nightcap, shirt, and pants as he did so. Then, after opening the shower curtain, and twisting the right knob. Instantly, slowly warming-up water sprayed from the shower head.

He let the water caress and take hold of his warm body. It was cold at first, but, the more he let the tingling sensation take over him, the more the warmed up, and the more Squidward liked it.

Grabbing a bar of soap, Squidward scrubbed his arms and legs with it, letting the heat warm his body, and the water wash away both the small particles of dirt on his skin, as well as the freshly pasted-on soap that rubbed over him.

After five minutes of scrubbing, washing, and growing tired of getting wet, Squidward decided that it was finally time to get out of the shower. He twisted the shower head once more, and stepped out of the shower.

He reached over to the rack next to him, and grabbed a white, nicely-knit towel. Squidward wrapped it around his body, drying off his blue and gray skin as he did so.

Then, he walked out of the bathroom, and into his closet. Inside said closet were thirty pairs of the same brown shirt. Sighing, Squidward grabbed a freshly dry-cleaned shirt, and slipped his head and arms into the three different holes in the shirt.

Once it was on, Squidward walked out of his room for the first time since the night before, and passed through the hallway in his home. As he walked to the lower floor, he passed by multiple paintings, self-portraits, and works of art, all created by him.

He admired all of them. Why wouldn't they? Even for as pretentious as he knew he sounded, Squidward couldn't help but think that they were all better than anything he had seen most of the other folks in Bikini Bottom attempt to make when it came to art.

Squidward knew that there were people who appreciated fine arts and culture in this town, the same as he. But, most of the time, he found that these people were, in most cases, better than he in terms of the quality of their artwork.

He sighed, not wanting to think about his mistakes as an artist, or as a person. "Better to learn from your mistakes than to dwell on them…" He muttered, as he finally reached the stairs.

Squidward slowly walked down the twelve steps, making his way to his living room. The second he reached the bottom of the stairs, he proceeded to walk into the dining room.

"Random thoughts for Sunday. Today is the one day of the week that I get off, but almost every week, on this day, I find that I'm either bored, or have nothing to do. Well, except for be annoyed by SpongeBob and that idiot, Patrick. At this point, I get excited at the prospect of them repeatedly bugging me to go jellyfishing with them."

Shaking his head, Squidward opened the refrigerator door, and pulled out a recently opened bag of coffee beans, a container of vanilla creamer, and two lumps of sugar.

"Mmm… coffee." He said, smiling happily as he put the coffee beans into the pot. Then, Squidward pressed the brewing button, and began to wait for when the coffee would finally be ready. In the meantime, he figured he would at least grab a mug to drink the coffee from.

As he grabbed a small mug with the words 'Worst Employee Ever' imprinted on it, he thought to himself once more. "Hmm… I'd have expected SpongeBob to show up at the door, by now. What's he up to, today?"

Just as he began to contemplate what SpongeBob could possibly be doing today, Squidward was brought back into the present by the sound of the coffee going off.

"Maybe I'm being too hard on the kid. I mean, ever since he got the position of manager, he has somewhat matured. I mean, he's still a pain, but at least there's something."

He shrugged his shoulders, grabbing the mug, and moved toward the freshly-brewed coffee. Then, hitting the 'eject' button, the coffee poured out of the small machine, and into Squidward's cup. Then, once it could brew no more, it stopped.

Sniffing the fresh, brown substance, Squidward savored the smell. Next, he poured the creamer in, and popped the two cubes of sugar into the cup. "And now... to taste my masterpiece."

And he did. He took a small, but savory, sip from the mug. It wasn't much, but he still felt warm tasting it. Squidward could feel the coffee entrancing him, running through his systems.

As he sipped away at the coffee, Squidward popped two slices of bread into the toaster, and waited for 30 seconds until they eventually popped right back out. Grabbing both with his free left hand, he put them onto a plate, buttering them as he did so.

Grabbing the plate, Squidward walked to the coffee table, and sat on the couch. Then, he set the coffee mug and the plate down, and reached for the remote. He pressed the 'on' button, and, within a few short moments, the television came to life with the screen coming on, and the channel being the news.

"Good morning, Bikini Bottom! Today's forecast calls for what famed scientist Bob Gillman has called 'a peach sky'." The anchorman announced, before looking in another direction, signaling the turn to the weatherman.

As he sipped his coffee, Squidward listened intently to the weatherman, Gale Blunderman. "Thanks, Bob. Yes, that's right, folks. Today is not just a beautiful day, but also an interesting and important one if you're interested in seeing something that you can't see too often. My advice: get outside, and see this 'peach sky'! You won't regret it!"

The news went on, continuing to talk about things that weren't as interesting to him, such as the mayor's decision to build a dam, or, Neptune forbid, Plankton trying, and failing, to escape from Shellgate Prison for the eighteenth time in only a mere six months.

Squidward shook his head, and took a bite of the first piece of toast. "Mmm… for once, I'm spoiling myself. And I'm absolutely bored." He remarked, changing the channel on the TV.

"Welcome back to the Adventures of MermaidMan and BarnacleBoy!" The voice of Brad T. Fishbucket, a famous voice actor from New Kelp City, whose voice could be found announcing many events and shows on television, proudly announced.

As the show started, it showed the two weathered heroes in their prime. Fighting crime and winning. To him, it was childish and immature. To others, namely SpongeBob and Patrick, it was the greatest piece of television history.

Some part of Squidward could understand the appeal. It was like how his Grandfather, and even Mr. Krabs, watched old newsreels of the war. To them, it was like a piece of themselves. But to him, he just couldn't understand. Although Squidward certainly could understand Krabs and his Grandfather's reasoning for watching those much better in comparison to SpongeBob, Patrick, and the legions of fans at comic conventions, dressing up as characters from the show, asking for autographs, who flat-out worshipped the show and their heroes' existence.

Squidward rolled his eyes, switching the channel once more, only to find a rock and roll music video channel. The music was horrible, and the band playing what they called a song was equally awful.

Slowly growing agitated, Squidward finally decided that maybe TV watching wasn't the best option at the moment. So, he turned off the television. Breathing heavily, the adult squid quickly finished off his toast, and sipped away at his coffee, which had become warm by that point.

After putting away the dishes, Squidward found himself sitting in his chair. The palm of his right hand, as well as his pointer and middle finger, rested on the tip of his chin.

He sat in his easy chair. A paper was on the coffee table next to him. And, standing right before him, was a blank, white canvas.

Looking at it was looking into an abyss. It was cold, dark, and devoid of color. It stared back at him, chilling him to the bone. Squidward hated it. He wanted nothing more than to throw it into his fireplace, over the wood, and light it with a cigarette bought from a nearby vendor.

But he knew that there was so much he could do with just a canvas. He could paint anything he wanted, absolutely anything that popped into his fragile, but stressed and strained, mind. Yet somehow, Squidward still found that he was lost for ideas.

Most days, they just came to him. Ideas for self-portraits, different styles, unique colors, always just came forward, presenting themselves to him, as if they were on a silver platter. But, ever since he got the idea to try and paint something original, he always found himself becoming lost. Absolutely nothing could change this stasis, he told himself.

"Burning it wouldn't be the worst idea. Who knows? It could be a nice sight to watch over dinner, tonight. Ah, who am I kidding? I can't burn this. I at least have to try, don't I? But what do I paint? Or sketch? Or make? It's all up to me. I'm the artist, after all. But why, why on Neptune's Earth, can't I come up with something wholly original?"

And the more Squidward thought of how his creative mind could come to a halt, the more he thought, "Maybe I should get outside. See the sights for a change. Something out there has to inspire me."

He sighed, setting aside the canvas, and getting out of his chair. Then, he walked to the door, grabbing the key to his house, which hung on a hook, and walked out of the front door, and into the world.

And what he saw astonished him.

At first, it was somewhat small, and hard to make out. But as he looked closer, and saw what it was, Squidward had more of an idea as to what he was looking at. The perfect inspiration. The peach sky.

Not one minute later was he running. Running after quickly going back into the house, grabbing the canvas, some paint, and a paintbrush, and locking the door once more, before running in no real direction. The only place he was running towards was the slowly growing sun.

Squidward ran so fast and so swift, that if anyone had seen him, they'd have assumed he was running a marathon. And, eventually, he slowed down, panting. His heart beat quickly as he let his head droop, and stare at the green, grassy ground.

Then, his eyes widened as he realized where he was. He quickly pulled his head up, and looked to find that he had ran directly into Jellyfish Fields.

"Oh…" He muttered, taking in the beauty of the land. Squidward didn't go to Jellyfish Fields often, but, when he did, he often neglected to take in the raw, untamed beauty that surrounded him. Jellyfish everywhere, happily buzzing through the air, minding their business. No wonder they ran or get angry when folks came to wrastle them up.

He shook his head, still frustrated that he couldn't get a perfect view of the sky. Then, Squidward raised his right hand, trying to get a good look at the right area for which he could sit upon, and see if his inspiration really was his inspiration.

And it was atop a hill, guarded by many rocks, but few jellyfish, with what he believed to be a perfect view, just sitting there. Waiting for him. And with the canvas, paintbrush, and paint tightly in his grasp, he carefully walked the distance.

Climbing up and across the rocks, especially with the materials in his hands, would be no easy task. Squidward knew this. And he didn't care a single bit.

He jumped onto the first in a series of rocks, groaning as he did so. Then, once his body was on top completely, he stopped kneeling, and stood up.

At no point during the walk across the rocks did Squidward's legs wobble. He was slow, steady, and very careful so as to not hurt himself or his body.

The walk exhilarated him, gave Squidward an energy he hadn't felt in ages. He believed it to be merely a side effect of the anticipation, of the build-up, to this seemingly beautiful, rare sight.

Finally, he was off the rocks. And all that separated him from that sky was a steep, mossy hill. If it couldn't stop him in his mind before, it wouldn't stop him in reality, now.

Breathing heavily, he walked up that hill. Not once did Squidward think to himself of how he grew tired, or weary, or lost his desire to go up. He didn't stop wanting it until he finally reached the tip-top of the hill. And, once he did, Squidward could do nothing but take in the glorious peach sky.

It was every bit as beautiful as he had imagined. Its rays beamed over his skin, making it shine in the early afternoon atmosphere. It moved over the face of the blue, sticky lagoon, almost making Squidward want to jump from where he stood, and fall into its pleasures.

Squidward moved closer to the edge, even dropping the canvas, paintbrush, and paint as he did so. He slowly walked to the edge of the brilliant sight to behold, only to drop to his knees, and sigh, as he stared and took in all of its natural beauty.

"I've found it… I've found my inspiration."

As he thought to himself, Squidward neglected to notice or hear the small footsteps behind him, creaking on the rocks. Only did he notice when a nasally, familiar voice questioned, "Quite the sight, huh?"

His eyes widening, Squidward turned around to see if he was imagining things. But he wasn't. His look of amazement turned into a frown, as he responded back with, "What are you doing here, SpongeBob?"

The yellow young adult shrugged his shoulders, and smiled. "I just felt like seeing the sun. I heard in the news that it was supposed to be beautiful, and I wanted to see it for myself." SpongeBob said, taking a seat next to the older man.

"But… it's your day off. And you're here, alone." Squidward questioned, to which SpongeBob nodded his head. "Yeah. I just felt like seeing it. Seeing if it was all it was cracked up to be."

Squidward found himself also nodding his head, still unsure as to what he was doing there by himself. It wasn't like him to be without his pink companion. So, he asked, without prompting, and rather bluntly, "Where's Patrick?"

"Oh, Patrick? He… he didn't feel like talking me, today." The sponge admitted, looking down and frowning as he did so. Squidward's eyebrows rose. Patrick Star, the chubby, dimwitted best friend of SpongeBob, not wanting to talk to SpongeBob? It was downright uncharacteristic, if not completely unbelievable.

"He… we, I mean… we had an argument last week. He said I wasn't spending as much time with him ever since I was promoted to manager. We got angry at each other, and… he said he didn't want to talk to me for a while. I said the same thing, and… we haven't talked since." SpongeBob further admitted, letting out a heavy sigh.

Almost immediately, Squidward felt bad for asking the Sponge his reasoning for being there. "Maybe I shouldn't have asked. I mean… oh, who am I kidding? It's still none of my business. No excuses needed."

And then, memories hit Squidward like a truck. He thought about all the times that he told SpongeBob to leave him alone, or go away from him, or something to that effect. Sometimes, like the times where he had acted in a way that frustrated and even scared Squidward, he felt that the frustration was warranted.

But, at the same time, he could remember many other times where the frustration was too much. Where he unnecessarily took things out on him. Where he downright humiliated him. And he felt… understanding.

Sympathetically looking at the younger lad, Squidward put his hand on the shoulder of the frowning sponge, who, in return, looked at him with confusion. "I… I'm sorry, SpongeBob. I didn't mean to hurt you any further, if I did. Tell you the truth, I came up here for the same reason. I just wanted to see this sunrise. Same as you."

The sponge's spirits were somewhat lifted by this unexpected sympathy. He knew Squidward was generally annoyed by him, and had no intention of even wanting to bug or meet him in this spot. It was completely by coincidence. And yet, he found comfort in the place he least expected.

In that moment, SpongeBob smiled at the squid. "Thanks, Squidward. I… I didn't expect that from you. I thought you didn't like me, actually. I mean… I've broken into your house, I've disrespected your privacy, and I've even stolen the job you were assigned. I just… I've been a bad friend. And… I'm sorry." He said, earning a shocked response from the squid.

He could tell that SpongeBob meant it. Every word. And he realized just how bad he felt at the moment. In all the times they had spent together, Squidward had never heard such raw, complete honesty come from SpongeBob. And that, to him, was truly amazing.

"Well… I… uh... ah… it's not that I don't like you. I'm just annoyed by you. But, I will admit, you have surprised me." Squidward sheepishly admitted, earning him an ever-growing smile from SpongeBob. "Oh, who am I kidding? It's like I said that one time at the Krusty Krab. Remember that? All those years ago? When we worked the night shift?"

SpongeBob did indeed remember. 'I've always sort of liked you…' Squidward said. And now, both realized that he really did mean it. He chuckled at the memory, reminiscing on how Squidward had attempted to scare him with a ghost story, only for them both to almost believe it had come true.

Now, both he and Squidward were laughing. Nostalgic for the times they worked together. The times they bugged one another, or made each other laugh, or taught the other a lesson.

And with that, they smiled at one another, two friends having come to realize just how much that they did respect and care for one another. After so many years, and all this time… they finally understood one another.

After a few moments just thinking of the past, SpongeBob finally broke the silence by speaking. "So, what are you doing up here? Did you come up to paint the sky? If you did, that would explain the canvas, paintbrush, and paint."

Squidward had then realized that the materials were still were he left them, just sitting on the ground. For a split second, he almost considered getting up from where he now sat, and grabbing the canvas, a paintbrush, and colors best-suited for his portrayal of the sight.

But he didn't.

Instead, he stayed sitting, and turned his head towards the hot, peach-colored sun. "No… right now, SpongeBob, all I want to do is sit under this peach-colored sky."

And they did. For hours, all they did was sit on the grass, watching the sky. It never once bored them, or let sometime take their attention away from it. Its radiant beauty was something that both needn't take a picture of, or paint a portrait from which it inspired. It was a memory that both would be happy to keep, and even happier to sit down one day in the future, and remember.

Author's Note: Just a little one-shot I felt like writing, which explored the relationship between SpongeBob and Squidward, since I love both as characters, and wanted to write something set after the movie! Hope this satisfied you guys as much as it did me! Anywho, thank you all for reading, please leave a review telling me your thoughts and suggestions, and, as always, do take care, and I'll see you next time! Until then, I'm the Flying Hawaiian 001, and I'm going to sleep for a very long while, since tomorrow is a snow day! No school tomorrow! Woohoo!