Out of the city, across the lava river, in the caves, and behind a nearly sealed off wall, Hell was whining. Hell liked to whine. It was one of the things it did best. However, if you were to point out that it was, it would probably fling fire and brimstone at you. And then go back to whining.

HE PROMISED US!

DON'T WORRY MY PRECIOUS, Hell hissed, ALL IN GOOD TIME.

BAD TIME.

HUH?

FORGET IT.

"Gentlemen," a hoarse voice croaked from the shadows, "ladies, all conceivable evil, I would like to know when it's my turn to get out."

WHEN WE DAMN WELL FEEL LIKE IT! Hell snapped.

HEH, DAMN WELL. WE'RE FUNNY.

WE SHOULD DO A COMEDY ROUTINE!

The demon glowered. It did not like to wait around, especially when such a wonderful treasure was to be had. "I have to wait for her, don't I?" it demanded. "After all these years, you still don't have the power to set me free!"

Annoyed by both the mouthy creature and the situation, Hell muttered, POWERFUL MAGIC BLOCKS THE WAY. THE KEEPER, THE GOOD ONE, MUST SET US FREE.

"And we can rely on her to do that?" asked the demon, intrigued.

OH, SHE'LL HAVE TO. Hell cackled. AND THEN…HA HA! AND THEN WE'LL RULE THE WORLD! MWAH-HA-HA-HAA!

Satisfied, and a bit creeped out by the bipolar metaphysical energy, the demon walked over to a dark corner to think. It did a lot of thinking and a lot of plotting. The plan relied on a careful strategy. Chuckling to itself, it went over in its mind once again how it would steal the Heart from Hell. When you got right down to it, Hell was stupid. It could not accomplish anything on its own, which was why it needed the Keepers. The first one had been a bit disappointing, but he had done most of his part. They just had to wait for the good one to come around.

It should not take too long.

Hell waited until the demon skulked away.

HEY, it hissed. One could imagine the light jabbing of an elbow into ribs with that statement.

WHAT?

Stifling back giggles, Hell said, I HAVE THIS BASEBALL TEAM. WHO'S ON FIRST, WHAT'S ON SECOND, I DON'T KNOW IS ON THIRD…

WHO'S ON FIRST?

WHO.

I DON'T GET IT.

Hell sighed, sending up flickers of flame. NEVERMIND.

Dean looked back down at the list. He had been sent to do some grocery shopping while Claire was still explaining things to Vinny. Santorini seemed like a nice guy. He just had an unhealthy love for explosives. Dean looked over the wares in the various tents. He liked Atlantis. There was something sort of "small town" about it. He had a feeling that this was the sort of place where everyone knew everyone else. The people seemed so friendly and nice. He made a mental note to remember how to teach them to play hockey before he left. "I seriously doubt," said the young man to the feline by his feet, "that there'll be nitroglyc—Hey, what do you know?" Picking up a bottle, he carefully examined it. After a brief exchange when the proprietor of the booth, he paid him and oh so carefully placed the container into a basket.

Above the bustling city, the Heart of Atlantis hovered, as if keeping watch over the citizens. Around it, the Kings of the Past, stone with the likenesses of previous rulers faces, floated around it. Shielding his eyes, Dean looked up at it. "Wow," he breathed. "It's really beautiful, isn't it?"

"I've seen prettier crystals in my kitty litter," replied Austin.

"I wonder," continued Dean, once again ignoring the cat's cynical comment, "what keeps it up there? How does it know to choose a royal host of it needs to?"

"Probably some sort of spiritual, metaphysical energy that's locked into the genetics of those of royal blood." He snorted. "But I'm just a cat. What do I know of ancient, mystical civilizations?"

"Ah, greetings!" oozed a voice behind the cat and the Keeper's boyfriend.

"Lord thunderin' Jesus!" Dean jumped, letting go of the basket. With a not too graceful dive, he grabbed it, barely avoiding the destruction of several dozen shops and sellers. Dusting himself off, he turned to face the speaker.

It was a short man, plump, with a greasy beard. His mortarboard cap had a stain on it that made Dean want to wash his hands repeatedly. Dean could see the man's toes sticking out of his sandals. He seriously needed to trim his toenails, or at least scrub his feet.

"My apologies," the stranger said, grinning, "I did not mean to startle you." After bowing his head, he continued, "I am correct in assuming that you are one of the new visitors to Atlantis that I've heard so much about?"

"Yes," answered Dean. Out of habit, he held out one hand. It did not matter how disgusting he thought someone was. Dean, could not, for the life of him, be rude. "Dean McIssac."

The older man stared at Dean's hand for a moment and then chuckled. "You'll have to forgive my rudeness." He grasped Dean's hand and briefly shook it. "I'm a bit unfamiliar with surface world customs. I am Professor Ta' Kashi of the Atlantean Institute of Learning. You're shopping this afternoon, too, I see."

If Ta' Kashi had been shopping, Dean would not have been able to tell. The plump professor carried no basket or bags. He was empty-handed.

With his pale blue eyes, Ta' Kashi peered down at Austin. "What a fluffy little…thing." He reached out a hand to pet the cat.

Austin hissed at him, fur standing out crazily, his one eye wide. Bracing against Dean's legs, he continued spitting until Ta' Kashi pulled his fingers away.

"He's a bit aggressive, isn't he?" the teacher laughed nervously.

"Austin's not a people cat," Dean explained, keeping a steady eye on the other man.

"Ah. And you bring him out in public?"

Dean had to admit, Ta' Kashi almost had him there. Grinning a moronic grin, the handyman said, "He just loves going grocery shopping with his daddy!" Dean picked up the cat in one arm and kissed the top of his head. "Yes he do!"

Too softly for Ta' Kashi to hear, Austin hissed into Dean's ear, "I will castrate you in your sleep."

Smiling in such a way that it seemed a great effort on his part, Ta' Kashi said, "How adorable. I must apologize, but I have to take my leave now. Enjoy the rest of your stay in our fair city." With one last little decline of the head, he scuttled off.

After the slimy man had disappeared into the crowd, Dean slowly put Austin back down onto the ground. "Why," demanded the cat, "did you do that?"

"I wanted him to go away."

"Oh."

"And I never get the chance to do stuff like that to you in public."

Austin bit Dean's ankle.

"Ow! Leave some flesh, will you!" Dean tenderly rubbed his leg.

"Why did you want him to leave?" asked Austin suspiciously. He was testing the young man. If anyone should keep Dean on alert, it was he. Maybe, Austin thought, Dean was becoming more perceptive to the world of the supernatural.

After a few seconds of careful thought, Dean answered, "He had a clammy handshake. Good, honest men have firm handshakes."

Austin groaned. Oh well. So long as the man was able to get the correct answer, who cared how he reached the conclusion?

After they had been walking around the marketplace for a little while, Dean decided to strike up a conversation. "So," he began slowly, using that same drawn out "so" that begins all personal questions, "what's with you and Helga?"

Austin stopped, and stared up at him sharply. "What?"

Dean shrugged. "You like her."

"I do not! I'm a cat! She's a person…a dead person!"

"I've seen the way you look at her. It's not with contempt."

"So?" Nervously, he licked his shoulder.

"And you laugh at all of her jokes."

"She's funny. You laugh when funny people tell jokes. Because they're funny."

Shrugging again, Dean said, "Fine, stay in denial." Glancing at the list, he exclaimed, "Where am I going to find cherry bombs?"

Scowling, Austin stomped on. Love? Hah! What did Dean know? Nothing!

Looking around, he spotted a bush full of beautiful flowers. No one would notice if he took one. With conspiratorial glances, he grasped a stem in his teeth and pulled. Following behind Dean, he carried the flower in his mouth. Helga would like it.

A/N: "Who's On First?" is a classic comedy routine that was created by Abbot and Costello.