Title: A Perfect Sunday

Author: Aimee

Beta: Dev

Rating: PG

Spoilers: A spoiler-free zone.

Pairing: Angel/Cordelia

Summary: She could see it all in his eyes.

Disclaimer: If you recognize them, they belong to Joss Whedon and David Greenwalt. Otherwise, they're mine.

They say that your eyes are the windows to your soul. She didn't know if that was always true, but she knew one thing for certain. Angel's were. She could look into his eyes and see it all. What he was thinking, what he was feeling, his fears, his dreams. She smiled at the thought. Angel may be a man with a demon inside, but he was still a man. And this particular man's dreams were simple: love, family, a normal life.

She smiled as the man in question walked into the room, a look of confusion on his face. "Cordy?"


"Does this shirt match these pants?" he asked, holding up a blue button-up like the ones he favored so much. And in truth, she was glad he did. He always paired it with a white undershirt--a wife beater. She cringed. She hated that term. But the way he looked when he wore them, with whatever color shirt he chose that day: drop-dead gorgeous. The fact that he didn't even know it made him look sexy as hell.

"Angel, you're wearing black pants," she told him patiently. "Pretty much anything goes with black," she told him, standing and walking to where he stood, a glint in her hazel eyes.

"Cordy?" he swallowed, deeply. The glint in her eyes hadn't escaped his attention.

"Yes, Angel?" she asked, innocently. Too innocent, he thought.

"What are you doing?" he asked as she ran her hands up his naked chest, leaned up on her toes and touched her lips to his in a kiss that told him exactly what she was doing.

"You know how you have a permanent soul now?" she asked softly, planting a soft kiss on his chest.

Angel nodded. "Yeah."

"How about we go give it a workout?" she asked, smiling into those brown eyes of his that she loved so much. Brown eyes that were now gleaming as he looked at her.

"Sounds like the perfect way to spend a Sunday," he whispered huskily before lifting her into his arms and using every ounce of his vampire speed to sprint up the staircase. Cordy's laughter was the only sound that could be heard as he slammed the door to room 217 behind them.