The fog in the cemetery was thick enough to cut with a knife, but that didn’t stop Giles from sending Buffy and Faith out for a patrol with a few of the new slayers.

“There’s no such thing as perfect slaying condition, girls. Vampires and demons don’t generally put their nefarious plans on hold for fear their hair might get frizzy,” he’d told them.

And who could fight with Giles, especially when he gave them his patented disapproving glare?

Somewhere during the course of the night, the new slayers took off with Kennedy and Willow, leaving Buffy and Faith to find one another in the near zero-visibility.

“Marco!” Faith yelled.

“Polo!” Buffy answered, trying to suppress her laughter so that Faith wouldn’t hear her.

She hadn’t played this game since she went swimming at her cousin Liz’s house when she was eleven years old. Leave it to Faith to suggest it in the middle of a fog-filled and darkened cemetery with danger lurking around every corner.

“Marco!” Faith yelled again, straining her ears to hear where Buffy was hiding. “No jumping up on crypts, B, that’s like . . . fish outta water.”

“I only did it twice, and it’s not cheating, it’s strategic planning.”

“The correct answer is Polo, B. Ya totally gave yourself away.”

Knowing that Faith was right, Buffy began to climb a large granite sarcophagus, hoping to evade her once again. Faith had known to expect that though, so she lashed out into the thick fog in the general direction of Buffy’s shuffling, nearly spluttering all over herself when she grabbed both of Buffy’s breasts.

“Faith!” Buffy yelled, stumbling backwards until she did a backwards somersault off the back of the sarcophagus, landing with a thud on the damp ground.

Faith scurried around the sarcophagus to check on Buffy and found herself suddenly confused to find the girl smiling victoriously up at her.

“What?” she asked.

“You didn’t call fish out of water. I totally win.”

Faith looked down at Buffy’s chest and then back up to her eyes, a grin on her own face now.