Side Note: This story is already a couple of years old, so you might have read it on another site before. I'm only just in the process of bringing my old stories, that weren't previously published here, over to have them all together in one place.

Warning: Sexual situations in chapters 3 and 4. Stay away from them if you don't like to read that kind of stuff.

This story takes place right after the teaser and before the asking out scene of episode 5.03 Written in the Stars. I guess it can be considered as slightly AU, although it's not totally impossible that it really happened.

The lyrics I used in this fic are from A.S. Head's "Staring at the Sun" (at the beginning) and from Aqualung's "Brighter than Sunshine" (after chapter 4).

When I was a child, and didn't know any better,
I used to stare at the sun for minutes at a time.

And after a while, the bright golden circle of the sun
Would melt away into the blue of the sky,
Like I was looking at a deep blue sky within a sky.

Someone asked me about her the other day
And I found myself standing there describing her,
Her eyes - lost in the thought of her eyes.
Such a deep, deep blue ... Like staring into the sun.

I don't really hate summer. In fact, I'm pretty much unimpressed by the change of seasons. I throw on a lighter flannel shirt when the temperatures are high, a warmer one with another shirt underneath when it's cold and I'm ready to go for my workday at the diner. But during the last few days the heat has really been getting to me.

More than once I toyed with the idea of losing the flannel and just wearing a t-shirt. Of course I can't do that. Just because I never do that. And also because I'm not in the mood for stupid questions or for being checked out by the single female population of Stars Hollow, headed by Miss Patty, like that one summer at the lake. Maybe if the checking out was done by one certain town resident. But she's not single anymore, she's with me now. Kind of. I hope.

I try to convince myself that I'm only feeling so hot because technically it should be almost fall and not summer anymore. Or I'm just spoiled because I spent seven weeks under shady and sun-resistant trees at the Renaissance Fair in Maine. But, if I allow myself to really think about it, the reason might be something else: for the sixteenth time in the last half an hour, I recall how Lorelai's lips felt on mine when we shared our first kiss and only a moment later our second.

I did that so often while I was away from home -and her- that I don't even need to close my eyes anymore to envision the way she looked at me. Shock and insecurity were present in her blue eyes, when I finally reached for her after so many years of friendship, replaced by realization and delight when our lips parted. Sometimes I can still feel the touch of her hand on my cheek, and I have memorized the softness of her hair between my fingers and her intoxicating scent.

Those memories helped me survive the time in Maine. That, and talking with Lorelai. I hate to admit it, but the cell phone I got before I went away was probably one of the most useful things I ever bought. We soon developed a pattern, an unspoken agreement that one day I would call her and the next day she would call me. Our conversations were not that much different from our pre-kiss ones. We exchanged stories about the Renaissance Fair people and the latest Stars Hollow craziness. I reassured her that the coffee at the diner didn't taste differently just because I wasn't there, and she tried to convince me that killing T.J. wouldn't help turn my stay in Maine into a more pleasant one.

There was some flirting and some teasing, but we carefully avoided to talk about the kisses or what they meant for us. All I know is, that she waited for me to come home and that I was counting the days till I would see her again and could finally really start something between us. The problem is, now I've been back for a week and I still have no idea where to begin.

Our reunion on the Saturday I finally came home went totally differently than I had secretly hoped. We were both kind of embarrassed when we met again, and just when I had broken the ice by giving her the necklace Liz made and leaned in to kiss her, we were interrupted by the insanity of the town, dancing apples and a ridiculous clown. We haven't seen each other alone since then and so I'm still waiting for that third kiss to happen. Yes, it is probably Lorelai withdrawal that causes my daydreams and makes me feel heated despite the air conditioning in the diner.

That night, after the almost-kiss, I called Lorelai, still sticking to our phone routine. We talked for almost two hours. Well, she did most of the talking. I can't even exactly remember the topics of our conversation, but I know I felt very comfortable and safe lying there in the darkness and listening to her voice.

The next several days she was busy at the Inn or she was spending time with Rory. They came to the diner a couple of times for coffee or lunch, but I didn't want to interrupt the dwindling mother-daughter time remaining before Rory goes back to Yale. Besides I sensed that they had some things to sort out, so with a heavy heart I restrained myself from asking Lorelai for a date. But we still stayed in contact via the phone.

When I called her yesterday evening she was in her usual after Friday night dinner mood and asked me to cheer her up with something funny. So I told her the story how Liz and I once had taken home an alley cat and had hidden it inventively from our parents for several weeks. I have no explanation why this childhood anecdote crept into my mind at that moment and Lorelai will probably still find something mockable in it weeks later, but it worked and soon we shared our usual banter.

She asked me jokingly -I assume- in a flirty voice what I was wearing and informed me she was naked. When I finally got over the mental image of Lorelai naked in her bed enough that I was able to speak again, I was hit by a wave of honesty. Before I could stop myself I told her that I miss her terribly, now even more than when I was miles away from her. After that statement it stayed silent on the other end of the line for what seemed like an eternity. I was cursing myself for rushing things, saying too much too soon. But just as I wanted to apologize, I heard her voice again, calm and low. "I miss you too."

As I lose myself in this memory I can't stop smiling - there have been already many moments like that today. I feel stupid for grinning like a lovesick idiot while serving food and billing people, but not enough to be able to stop it. Unsuccessfully I try to cover it by being extra grumpy, but I guess not even Kirk believes me when I'm yelling at him smiling.

I go to the storeroom to get a new jar of pickles and pause for a moment to recall the phone conversation I held in here with Lorelai so many weeks earlier, and the relieved and giddy feeling I had after she exceeded all my expectations by indicating she wanted to be with me. And now, several weeks later, we are still not one step further. I sigh in frustration.

Why is this so hard? I know how to serve her coffee, how to fix her porch rail, how to be supportive whenever she needs me. I know when to just let her talk and when I have a chance to get a word in. Judging by her remark about frogs and impressive consequences I also know how to kiss her. But I'm not sure how to use all my knowledge to built up a relationship with her.

I return to the counter, still lost in thought. Suddenly I'm startled because I hear Lane say Lorelai's name.

"What?"

"I said, Lorelai just called." She grins knowingly. "She's spending her lunch break at the lake because the weather is so nice and she would like you to meet her there. And I'm instructed to tell you she won't reject the food you will hopefully bring."