Disclaimer: Elementary, my dear Watson. UCSBdad does not own Castle. Rating: K Time: Just after Still.

The Adventure of the Hound of the Baskervilles

By

UCSBdad

"We'll go ta Da Boss's place so he kin talk wid youse." Said Buggsy. "Den we'll head fer London."

"London? On Earth?" Alexis asked.

"No. Da one here on Vorlag." Said Muggsy. "One o' da t'ings we picked up from youse hoo-mans is dat cosplay. Youse knows, you get inna costume and pertend ta be someone you ain't."

"So you have a London here?" Alexis said.

"Where else would Sherlock Vorlag live?" Asked Puggsy.

They landed and took another car to downtown Vorlag City. They stopped in front of a large bar.

"Rick's Café Americain?" Rick said. "Really?"

"That's what it says." Kate said.

They went inside to what looked very much like a large version of the bar from the movie Casablanca. The even had a piano player.

"You must remember this,

"A kiss is just a kiss,

"A sigh is just a sigh,

"The fundamental things apply,

"As time goes by.

"I see lots of French officers and maybe even Captain Renault, but there aren't any Nazis." Alexis said.

"What kinda Vorlag would wanna play a Nazi? "Buggsy said dismissively.

"Dere's Da Boss now, waving youses over."

Sure enough, sitting at a table was Don Vorleone, not in his usual tuxedo, but wearing a white dinner jacket.

"Of all the gin joints in all the towns in all of Vorlag, you walk into mine." He said, with a slight lisp.

"How are you, Vorlagfather?" Rick said.

"Just fine. Sit, and take a load off." He snapped his fingers. "Carl, something to wet my friends' whistles."

A chubby waiter appeared and put milkshakes in front of the humans.

"So, you have a problem that you need some help with, Don Vorleone?" Kate asked.

The Vorlagfather nodded.

"The problems of two little people don't amount to a hill of beans in this crazy, mixed up world, but the niece of my good friend, Lord Henry Baskerville, has gone missing. Plus, there's rumors of a huge animal of some sort in the moors surrounding his estate."

"The young lady is Sebacean?" Kate asked. "Can you tell us a bit about her?"

"Her name is the Honorable Ermintrude Hairry-Busche. She's a teenager and went to a private school near Baskerville Manor. She was last seen at the school about a week ago. I sent Da Boyz to ask around, but no one has seen her. So, I hired Sherlock Vorlag to look into it. But just to be safe, I asked you to take the case as well, Detective Beckett. Da Boyz will take you to London. It's just down the pike a bit. You'll need to get a hansom cab to 221B Baker Street."

"Okay." Kate said. "We'll be on our way."

"Here's looking at you, kid." Don Vorleone said.

"Don Vorleone, this could be the beginning of a beautiful friendship."

"it's still the same old story,

"A fight for love and glory,

"A case of do or die,

"The world will always welcome lovers,

"As time goes by.

When they go to London, Buggsy handed them a wad of twenty-pound notes and some smaller bills and change.

"Don't pay more den a quid fer da ride." Buggsy said, whistling for a hansom cab.

Kate was shocked to see a Vorlag was pulling the cab instead of a horse.

"I hate to think of him pulling that cab all by himself." She said.

"Don't youse worry. Our pal, Curly, invented rocket powered roller skates which is what he uses ta git around."

Sure enough, Kate saw that he had on skates with rocket nozzles.

A ladder folded down for the humans to board and Muggsy said, "Take 'em to 221B Baker Street an' step on it."

"Blimey, guv'ner. You're going to see the famous Sherlock Vorlag?"

"That we are." Rick said. "And I can't wait."

They pulled up in front of 221B Baker Street and got out. Kate knocked on the door.

A wizened Vorlag lady opened the door.

"E's expecting you. Go right on up."

And up they went and entered the rooms of the famous Sherlock Vorlag who was standing by the fireplace in a smoking jacket.

"Excuse me, sir." Said Alexis. "But I think you're on fire?"

"What?" Sherlock said.

A rather chubby and well dressed Vorlag got up from a chair and doused the fire.

"My friend often gets so deep in thought that he has accidents." He bowed. "I'm Dr. John Vorlag, the chronicler of Sherlock's adventures."

"I know no more about these three than what is apparent from observing them. They are all from Earth where the gentleman writes mystery stories and does quite well with them. He lives in New York City, but has a mansion in Long Island. The Hamptons, to be exact. In spite of three unhappy relationships with women, he has now found the love of his life."

He turned to Kate.

"That would be Detective Kate Beckett, NYPD, the best homicide detective in New York. She gave up a possible career in the law after her mother was foully murdered. A crime she has not yet solved."

He turned to Alexis.

"This is Mr. Castle's daughter by a rather flaky actress who, perhaps fortunately, has had little to do with the young lady. She is rather brilliant and excels in her school."

"You got all that just from looking at us?" Castle asked, very much impressed.

"Not exactly. I used facial recognition when I saw you outside and Voogled ® you."

"You know why we're here, then?" Kate asked.

"I do. Quick, John, what light through yonder window breaks?"

Dr. Vorlag sighed.

"I fear Sherlock is trying to find an appropriate quotation from William Shakesvorlag to begin our adventures. I fear he hasn't found the correct one." He examined the three humans closely. "I think our first stop should be to purchase some appropriate clothing for our companions."

Several hours later, they emerged as well-dressed citizens of the City of London, Vorlag version. Kate and Alexis had on ankle length dresses with mutton chop sleeves, gloves and large hats. Rick was decked out in a claw hammer coat, vest and bow tie complete with a top hat.

"Excellent." Said Sherlock. "Now we're off." Sherlock got a faraway look in his eyes. "I see that you stand like greyhounds in the slips. Straining upon the start." He looked expectantly at Dr. Vorlag.

"Better, but still not right, old boy."

"Then we should be off to the countryside. The train station is this way."

After a train trip lasting twelve minutes, they got off in a charming rural village.

"Where are we?" Alexis asked.

"The village of Dog Snogging upon Piddle." Replied Sherlock. "We're on our way to see some gentlevorlags who know all about what happens here. Ah, here we are at our first stop."

The first stop was a stone building covered in ivy with a bell tower of some sort on top. As they approached, a Vorlag came out to greet them.

"Ah, just the person we wanted to see." Said Sherlock.

The Vorlag was dressed all in black except for a white clerical collar. He nodded. "Hello. I'm Father Francis Xavier O'Vorlag, SJ. Welcome to my parish."

The humans introduced themselves. The Alexis asked a question.

"SJ? Are you a Jesuit?"

"Oh, no, young lady. SJ in this case stands for Society of John. We study the philosophical works of the great human, the Earth astronaut, John Crichton." Father O'Vorlag looked at the three. "You wouldn't happen to know who's on first, would you? That's vexed our finest minds for years."

"Who." Said Alexis.

"Yes. Who's on first."

"You're right."

"What?"

"Second base."

Father O'Vorlag shook his head.

"I don't know."

"Third base." Said Kate.

The good father shook his head again.

"Obviously these two human ladies are very deep thinkers."

"We need to talk to you about the missing girl and the horrible monster that's been seen about." Sherlock said.

"Ah, well. Come in and have some tea."

They sat in a very Victorian parlor with all manner of knick knacks in it, complete with antimacassars on the furniture. Father O'Vorlag made tea and put out biscuits, called cookies by Americans.

"I fear I can tell you little, Sherlock. I know nothing of the poor missing girl, other than Lord Baskerville has posted a fifty-pound reward for her safe return. That's had the locals scouring the moors, but to no avail. They won't go out at night, though. They say a huge, glowing monster is out there. They're terrified of it."

"Who can I talk to about it?" Sherlock asked.

"You should go down to Mickey Dee's."

"You have Mickey D's here?" Castle asked.

"Of course. Go into the village. You can't miss it."

When they left the good father, they could easily see the golden arches at the other end of the small village. Beneath it were the words, "Over six billion served."

"Mickey D's has served over six billion hamburgers?' Castle asked.

"Hamburgers?" Said Sherlock. "Of course not. Mickey Dee's sells beer."

"How long did it take them to sell that many?" Kate asked.

"They opened when, Dr. Vorlag?"

Dr. Vorlag scratched his head.

"Two weeks ago, Thursday, I believe."

The bar was filled with working Vorlags in rough clothes and cloth caps. Some were singing near the fireplace.

"Oh, I wish I could go back again to Ireland,

"If only my dear wife would pass away,

"For she's nearly broke my heart with all her naggin',

"She's got a mouth as big as Galway Bay."

Sherlock went to the bar and called for the barman. Bartenders are very respected on Vorlag as Vorlags are known as the greatest party animals in the galaxy. As the great human, John Crichton once said, "One Vorlag is a problem, two is a party, three is a Mardi Gras, four is a riot and five is the end of civilization as we know it."."

"Moe, we'll have a wee drop of the creature, if you please." Sherlock said, bellying up to the bar.

"Alexis Castle?" Someone called. "Mr. Castle? Detective Beckett?"

From across the room came a teenaged Vorlag, wearing a Rolling Stones tee shirt, cargo shorts, and wearing a backwards baseball cap.

"Curly?" Alexis said.

They had met young Curly on a prior case, (See A Merry, Furry Christmas for details.) and found him to be quite brilliant, if a bit naïve.

"What are you doing here on Vorlag?" The teenager asked.

"We're on a case for Don Vorleone." Alexis said. "Why are you here."

"My brother owns the place. That's my brother Moe."

"What'll you humans be having? Since you're new here, I'd suggest the Vorlag pale ale." Moe asked.

"That'll be fine." Rick said.

"Okay, then. Three VPA's coming up."

"That's two. Alexis is too young to drink."

"Dad!" Said Alexis, but then she saw the look on her dad's face. She turned to Moe. "What's the legal drinking age on Vorlag?"

"Six." Replied the bartender.

"Six? Then I can legally drink. I'll have a VPA as well."

"I need to see some ID?"

Alexis handed over her driver's license.

"What's this?" Asked Moe.

"That's my New York drivers license. It shows I'm eighteen."

"This thing says you were born in 1993 which would make you over three thousand years old according to our calendar. Sorry, I can't serve you. Your ID looks fake. Want a Vorlag Cola?"

Alexis nodded sullenly.

Moe put a large soda down in front of her. Alexis took a sip and smiled. She was sure that Moe had put some Vorlag rum in her glass. When she looked at the huge, furry bartender, he winked at her.

"See her drinking sixteen pints at Paddy Murphy's,

"And when the barman says, "It's time to go,

"She does not try to speak to him in Gaelic,

"But in a language that the clergy do not know.

TBC