The Eighth Circle

Rating: PG-13

Disclaimer: The characters in this story are the sole property of Mutant Enemy and the WB. No infringement is intended, no profit is made.

Distribution: http://mysticmuse.net

Sure, wherever you like. Just please let me know where it's going.

Spoilers: Angel through Calvary, Season 4.

Feedback: Yes, please! I'm a feedback ho!

Pairing: Just Fred

From the diary of Winifred Burkle.

01/04/03

Too much to describe. Lists are better:

1. Lots of weirdness, not the regular kind. Fire from the sky for example, which is new. Also, bad.

2. Check Modern Physics Review for last April cause maybe had article on hyperthermophiles. Is the Beast a hypertherm? Brought fire with it somehow? Could not be upwelling hydrocarbons because Wes says it originated from top of building. (????) Mystical fire, sure. But had to manifest somehow. Read Thomas Gold, Paul Davies, also maybe National Enquirer.

3. Charles is [several lines illegible/crossed out]

4. Cordy is acting very strange.

5. Angel is acting very strange. Stranger than most times he gets holes in his neck, even.

6. Need new shoes. Got diner-earthquake food all over the ones Cordy bought me. Is Salvatore Ferragamo important? Should I worry?

Am implementing Cordy-Watch, also keeping an eye on Connor. Creep.

01/05/03

Cordy-Watch: Day One

This is what I heard today: nothing. Big fat NOTHING. They're not even talking to each other. Cordy moved her stuff back into her room but Angel's been in the basement all day. Creep hung around the lobby moping until Charles sent him on patrol. Creep.

Cordy still acting odd. I walked in on her sitting in the lobby with her eyes shut muttering some kind of chant. When I asked her what it was for, she said she had her period and it helped her relax. But I clearly heard the word uainn-shol which everybody knows means "massacre" in Proto-Bantu. Okay, so what's that about?

Wes came over with news from another one of his "sources." (Am I the only one who thinks that's kinda shady?) Apparently, the Beast killed everybody at Wolfram and Hart in a bloody shower of violence.

Sucks to be them.

01/06/03

Movement on the frontier, people!  I know, I know, I KNOW it's wrong to eavesdrop, but I can't help it. (And since Lorne can't either, we're gonna compare notes!)

Okay, so Angel was in the office. Sum total of the conversation I heard today:

Cordelia: Angel, can I come in?

Angel: Fuck off, Cordelia.

Ouch. Baby steps. But better than yesterday. Lorne said it gave him a headache just to be in the same room as them, what with all the vibes running around. I know he knows something he's not telling me.

Anyway, I pretended to be cleaning the Peruvian Humming Scythe, but I think Cordy knew was I was doing, because she gave me one of those WICKED scary looks on her way upstairs.

I'm glad she's back, but she's been so … different.  Plus, has not commented on my wardrobe choices since I don't know when. Weird.

01/07/03

SO MUCH TO WRITE. It's not my fault I happened to be in the kitchen while they were talking. Or that I happened to be kinda, not really, sorta, in a place where they couldn't see me. Like behind the door. I was trying to keep up, and this is what I got:

C: Angel.

A: Cordelia.

C: Angel.

A: Cordelia.

C: ANGEL.

(This went on for a while. Even in interests of posterity, I didn't think I needed to write them all down.)

C: Look, this is stupid.

A: Yeah, well, so many things are nowadays, it's hard to-

C: Cut it out with the flippant, okay? It doesn't help.

Angel didn't answer.

C: At least look at me.

A: Know what I see every time I do?

C: That's not my fault.

A: Oh, I beg to differ.

C: If you weren't so busy with the tom-peeping and spying-

A: Let's not forget the fighting and the bleeding and the almost-dying! You're telling me it was a show for my benefit? That it wouldn't have happened if I wasn't there to see it?

C: And we're back to the flippant, ladies and gentleman. In record time, no less.

A: Just leave me alone, Cordelia.

C: No can do.

A: It's a simple request. See the door? You go through it, and all's good.

C: No can do.

A: Why not?

C: Because I kinda love you, Angel.

(?????????????????????????????? WHAT? Anyway, Angel was quiet for ages which was good because I had heaps to write down. When he answered it was so quietly and it sounded like he was almost crying.)

A: Funny way of showing it.

Then he banged out of the kitchen like all get-out. Cordy was there for a while –I heard her laugh a bit. (Laugh? Maybe that kind of laugh where you wanna cry instead? I couldn't tell.) Then she left, too.

WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON? What did Cordy do?  Must. Know. Have to ask Lorne if she's been singing round the hallways lately. But I don't think so.

01/08/03

This one courtesy of Lorne, who happened to be skulking appropriately outside the office. He taped it!  Excellent, cause much better than trying to write real fast.

A: Can you pass me that book?

C: Which one?

A: I'm pointing at it.

C: And my back's to you, genius.

A: Surprise, surprise.

C: Just quit it, all right?

A: This from the Mistress of Restraint.

C: Just for that, I'm not turning around. Ever. If you want a book, tell me which one or get it yourself.

(Long pause here. Sounds like Angel sighed, but could be wrong.)

A: Rhinehart's Compendium.

C: You don't want that book.

A: I asked for it, didn't I?

C: Yeah well, you've been asking for a lot of things lately.

A: Cordelia, just pass it over.

C: Your legs don't work after three p.m or something?

A: Forget it.

C: I'm telling you, you don't want it anyway. There's nothing helpful in it.

A: It has whole sections on depth dwellers, okay? And if the Beast-

C: Which, let's not forget, conveniently rose up in the exact place your son was born…

(ETA: What? Why weren't we told that?)

A: Can you not talk about my son? Ever, if possible?

(another long pause)

C: Angel, there are only so many times I can say I'm sorry.

A: Cordelia, there are only so many times I can say I don't care.

C: Right! That's it! If you think-

That's where Lorne's tape ends. It ran out. Stupid tape.

01/09/03

Things do not like:

1. Gwen the Electric Super Tramp.

2. The sun being blotted out.

01/010/03

Found a copy of Dante's Divine Comedy on Cordy's desk. Did you know that the Eighth Circle of Hell is reserved for Impersonators? Also, Sowers of Discord. I swear, you'd think there was a Sower of Discord around here lately, the way everything keeps going to hell.  Cordy once told me that things used to be pretty simple. She had the visions, then the four of them went out, killed whatever, came home and ate omelettes.

You'd think I messed up the dynamic, or something.

Oh, well. Least I'm not an Evil Counselor. They're in the 8th Circle as well.

Oh! Forgot. Cordy thinks it's a good idea if we bring back Angelus to ask him some questions about the Beast. My vote doesn't count for much, but I'm not sure about this. On the Cordy-Watch front, they spent at least half an hour yelling at each other in the basement today. Couldn't hear a thing. Stupid concrete walls.

01/11/03

Angel said No to the Angelus idea. Seems to think it's too risky. He and Cordy went into his room and they've been shouting for ages. I couldn't hear much from the hallway, and not much more from right outside the door, but I did catch some. Here's the super-important part (ellipses for when I couldn't hear):

C: Nobody here knows better than me what Angelus is capable of, Angel!

A: Wrong. I do. And if  …  fucking CRAZY!

C: …when I … Connor…

A: Shut up about him! Shut up about Connor! I … to hear you say that name, Cordy!

C: (still shouting) You called me Cordy!

A: SO?

C: You … in a long time. Since…

A: …know.

C: Why does …  be like this?

A: You tell me. You made the choice.

C: AND IT WAS THE WRONG ONE! THE WRONG CHOICE! We know that! Why can't you just accept it and let it go!

A: BECAUSE I KINDA LOVE YOU, TOO!

(Silence, at which point something smashed against the door. I'm thinking Cordy threw something. Anyway, I ran away.)

11:04 pm - LATER

OhmygodohmygodohmyGOD. If I'm hearing what I think I'm hearing, we might all wake up dead with neck wounds tomorrow. At least I remember Cordy saying Angelus doesn't go for the skinny ones. (But I saw that picture of the girl with the weird name. She was as skinny as me, practically.)

On topic. They are SO having sex. Sex is being had in the next room, and since I didn't see him leave, it must be Angel in there with Cordy.

Unless it's Connor? He does seem kinda proprietorial about her lately.

EWWW! Bad thoughts! Going to scrub out my brain now. And maybe ears. Although someone is DEFINITELY in fun. I think Charles still has that bag of stakes in our room. My. My room. Our room. Hell, I don't know.

I should go and talk to him and maybe [crossed out]

01/11/03

Eternal darkness isn't actually as bad as you'd think. If you never leave the house.  I'm surprised Angel isn't enjoying it more. If it was me, I'd be going outside and standing there saying things like, "Look, this is me outside! At three o'clock in the afternoon! And this is me outside at three-oh-five!"  Y'know, like when people jump backwards and forwards over state lines. And the borders of those titchy European countries.

Come to think of it, that would get annoying pretty fast.

Is it me, or is Cordy kinda filling out a little? Not trying to be nasty, but what's with the constant overcoat? And for somebody who just got some, especially the kind of some I heard last night, she's still acting weird.

Yes, sex. I didn't forget about the sex.

So, it was them after all. Angel's been walking around like a goofball all day. Wes was trying to tell him about needing to talk to Angelus, but it looks like if we just let Cordy have at him, we'll be getting Angelus back anyway.

I was looking into alternate ways of re-ensouling Angelus. If, say, something happened because of, say, excessive sex leading to excessive happiness sans cage and/or army supervision. Turns out the last time he was back for more than ten minutes, that girl Willow put his soul back. The one who came to tell us about the other girl with the weird name. So I read Wesley's file on her. She sounds mega-cool. Think I should email her and swap computer-geek stuff, cause maybe the folks in Sunnydale could do with that cross-referencing software I whipped up. It was way helpful when the Skuluugs moved into the basement. Oogy + gross + purple + stinky + plasma = Skuluug!

Ooh! Wait up, conversation:

Cordy: Is it me or does that shirt actually have a colour in it?

Angel: Well, I was feeling kinda up this morning.

Cordy: You certainly were.

Kissing noises! Kissing noises! Where did I put that crossbow?

01/12/03

Badness, badness, much badness. Angelus is even eviller than I thought he'd be. I thought I had a handle on Angel's dark side cause of that one time I fed him blood in Pylea, but it turns out this is SO much worse. It's like that Shakespeare play with the girl who "speaks poniards! And every word stabs!"

Okay, on topic again. There's something wrong with Cordy. I mean it this time. Not just weird muttering and laughter at inappropriate times. I'm talking bone-deep weird. Know how I know? She didn't even blink when Angelus was reaming her out. Now I know that Cordy and I haven't exactly been gal-pals extraordinaire, but she's the closest thing to a female best friend I've had in years. I KNOW her. VISA commercials make her cry, even though she pretends not to. Our Cordy would have waited until nobody could see her, but it would've shaken her up, especially after Angelus called her lame in the sack.  This New-But-Not-Improved Cordy went and got herself a coffee and started reading Cosmopolitan.

Know how else I know?

SHE SLEPT WITH CONNOR.

There are not enough words for EWWW in the English language. Plus, and trust me on this, the Cordelia I know would never do something like that. Not in a million years.

01/13/03

Oh, fuck. Angel's soul is gone. Oh, FUCK.

01/14/03

Writing quickly because I don't know what I just saw. I swear I saw this, I'm not making it up. Cordelia just went into the basement, and she had something wrapped up in a cloth. When she opened the door to the top of the stairs, it slipped a little, and whatever was underneath was glowing.

Glowing. Know what's gone missing around here recently and glows? Me too.

I'm in the office and I don't think she saw me. But I'm gonna go talk to her. Right now. We haven't talked enough recently, and I think it's important that we start. Because something really weird is going on and I'm sick of just being translator/gadget girl around here. I'm gonna find out what's up.

From the Los Angeles Tribune, Thursday, January 17^th, 2003, page 7.

The body of a woman discovered behind a dumpster in Rosemead early yesterday morning has been identified as that of Winifred A. Burkle, 26, a private investigator formerly of San Antoine, Texas. Burkle was reported missing by a colleague on Tuesday after disappearing from her place of employment the previous evening. In an attack a spokesman from the coroner's office described as "vicious and violent", Miss Burkle was stabbed in the throat with a large serrated blade. Detectives are investigating.

The End

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