Disclaimer: I own nothing. I don't even own myself. Fruitcake owns me.
Author's note: I am Carlos. You may have heard of me. I review a lot of Fruitcake and Balticwoman stories.
The Question: Chapter One
Buffy, Willow, Anya, Dawn, Giles, and Xander were sitting around the kitchen counter, a deep silence heavy in the air between them.
Giles cleared his throat. "I don't know the answer," he said finally, his voice cracking under the pressure. He brought his hand to his forehead. He wished to all of the powers in the world that he did have the answer.
"So, there isn't any way to stop The First?" Anya asked, her voice heavy.
"There will be a way," Buffy said, determined.
Dawn began floating a bit off her seat, her aura as the key moving into the visible spectrum. Her eyes glazed over a prism-like white. "First," she said, her voice ringing with something more ancient than any of them could understand, "we must answer another question."
"Uh, Dawnie, what's with all of the making with the floating and sparkly eyes?" Buffy asked.
Dawn glared at Buffy through the diffraction of light around her half closed eyes. "The Question," she said, a strange authority entering her voice.
"What's the question?" Anya asked, her voice uncharacteristically soft.
"Carlos is the question," the voice from inside Dawn replied. "Who owns Carlos?"
Then she fell to floor, exhausted and without a memory of anything she had said.
"Carlos?" Anya questioned. "Who is Carlos?"
"More importantly," Giles said, rubbing his glasses, "who owns Carlos and what does this owner know about The First?"
"Carlos from school?" Dawn asked the room at large.
Anya shook her head, the memory coming to her. "No," she said, her voice quivering a bit, "The Carlos."
TBC…