Author's Note: I live in Kansas, and so every place mentioned in this story is very real, and is some place I have been myself (or is based on some place I have been myself). Butch's is located in Decatur, Kansas, if you'd like to pull out a map and see where we start our journey. Also, the narration is intended to be juuuust this side of noir, as a stylistic exercise.

One more thing, then I'm done, I swear! This story is themed after The Wizard of Oz. Because really, who can resist? On with the show!

Chapter One: A Call From the Wizard

August in Kansas. Hotter than a bitch in heat and so muggy that sweat sticks to skin instead of leaving for the air. A storm broke over the horizon, thunder booming across plains that only non-natives call flat.

Kansas is only flat from a plane.

One hundred and fifty years ago, wagons rolled over these hills, moving steadily onward to the Rockies and the west, and the promise of land in Oregon. Now beat-up pick-up trucks bounce along dirt roads, rattling and wheezing with the effort of eeking out a living from a land that's naturally dry and colorless. Driven by men with smoker's lungs and skin wrinkled and brown from constant sun, that morning, several of them drove along the way, pulled off the road and into Butch's.

A grocery store, coffeehouse, gas station and bar, Butch's hopped only two times of the day: seven o'clock, when the farmer's came in to get their mid-morning coffee with their diesel, and after nine o'clock, when the farm hands made their way into town from the various farms and celebrated long into the night. They spoke Spanish or sometimes Ukrainian, and they only stayed long enough to harvest before they were gone.

The morning thundershower was just about finished making noise when the doorbell at Butch's jingled. It was a bit too early for it to be the first of the coffee rush, so Marge looked up from her counter with some degree of interest. She'd been working the counter at Butch's during the busy season since before she'd married Darren and had three children, and that had been some forty years ago, back before folks had started leaving in droves. Anything out of the ordinary sparked Marge's interest, because "out of the ordinary" was so rare.

Sheriff Brainard, not a regular by any means, since he was based in the county seat of Oberlin, stepped through the door and tipped his hat wearily at Marge. "Howdy."

"Hey-uh, Sheriff. Here for a little morning coffee?"

"Something like that," he said, rubbing his eyes. "Got a little bit of business to take care of over at Reddinger's."

Marge raised her carefully-plucked eyebrows. "What kind of business? Reddingers' are usually quiet folk. Don't get any trouble from any of them or their boys."

"Their youngest boy took a bit of a fright earlier this morning when he went out to do his chores," the Sheriff said with an expressive roll of his eyes. "Says there's a real body in his scarecrow. I'm legally obligated to check it out."

Marge felt a cold chill run right through her. "Well, there's a story for the record books."

"Wouldn't be the first time some kid overreacted," Sheriff Brainard said, but it wasn't necessarily true. This was farm country. Kids around here got used to death and life at a pretty young age.

Marge handed him his cup of coffee and tapped her finger on the counter. It was already shaping up to be one incredibly out of the ordinary day.

Hacker's phone rang and he picked it up immediately when he saw the phone number flashing across his screen. "Hacker," he said brusquely.

"Deputy Director Hacker, the President wants to thank you for all of your assistance in the recent months."

"Uh, thank you, sir," Hacker says, sitting down. It's not every day he got a phone call from the White House Chief of Staff.

"We've got a little problem we were wondering if you could help us out with."

"I'm sure I'd love to do what I can."

"We've got a missing Senator, Deputy Director, and a body out in the middle of bumfuck, Kansas, that looks like it could be him."

"That's KBI jursidiction, sir," Hacker said. "Even with him being a Senator. The locals probably don't want us to stick our hands in it."

"From what they're telling me, it's not a sure thing that it's the Senator, Deputy Director. They're saying they can't recognize him, given that he's mostly decomposed. And he's hanging from a post. Stuffed with straw."

"Come again?"

"The president is asking you to take a look into this, Deputy Director. Senator Williams was a big supporter in the previous campaign, and a close personal friend. We want your best."

"Ah, yes, well." Hacker coughed. "That's a going to be a little bit difficult, you see."

"Why is that?"

"My best is currently on military leave – for the next 48 hours, sir. He's been training snipers in Afghanistan. He just got back to the city, sir. I was planning on giving him some personal time."

"If you say he's your best, then give me his name, we'll get him there."

Hacker coughed. "And the other half of my best will be arriving in D.C in three and a half hours from Indonesia."

"I'll need their names, Director Hacker."

"Temperance Brennan and Seeley Booth, sir."

"Good. We'll have them on a plane to Kansas City by the end of today. And Hacker?"

"Yes sir?"

"This conversation doesn't leave this room. We aren't certain it's the Senator, and we aren't going to do anything until we know for sure."

"Yes, sir."

The plane taxied to a stop and the passengers started to rise from their seats, reaching overhead for bags before the stewardess gave permission. Doctor Temperance Brennan snapped shut her phone and started to reach for her leather bag when the flight attendant, who had been annoyingly perky during the entire international flight, tapped her on the shoulder.

"Dr. Brennan?"

"Yes, that's me," Temperance said, as she turned to the woman.

"When we unload the plane, we'd like for you to remain here."

Temperance raised an eyebrow. "Excuse me?"

"There are some folks who are looking to see you. They made it very clear to me that it would be easier if you would just stay on the plane."

"I don't understand," Temperance said. "Is this some kind of... welcome-back-to-the-country joke?"

"I don't believe the Director of the FBI jokes, ma'am."

"Here's the thing," Booth said into his cell phone. "I'm getting processed out of the Army today. Then I want to go see my kid. I've just spent a year in Afghanistan, and I think this country owes me some time off before they start yanking my chain again."

"Booth, I'm sorry," Hacker said, on the other end of the line. "Believe me, if it were my choice, I wouldn't do this to you. But the President wants the very best on this, and I didn't lie to him when I said you were the best."

Booth rubbed his eyes. "Hacker, I'd like to help you, really I would, but I've got stuff I'm supposed to do today so that the Army no longer owns my soul."

"It's amazing what a call from the White House can do, Booth," Hacker said smoothly. "In a few moments there's going to be a knock at your door. You're going to want to answer that. Grab a duffel bag, pack for a couple of weeks."

"Where the hell am I going?"

"At this time, that's classified. I'll say this. Pack for wind and sun and heat like you wouldn't believe."

"No disrespect, Hacker, but you're a real son of a bitch. Are you going to call my kid and apologize to him?"

"Booth, I'm sorry, I really am." Hacker coughed. "You'll be leaving in an hour and a half, Booth. I'll call you once you're on board the plane with details."

The line went dead, and Booth used his recent exposure to young, hot-headed soldiers as inspiration for a profane diatribe that would have made the Virgin Mary blush.

"I want to say first that I extremely resent this invasion of my private time," Temperance said stiffly. "I do not appreciate being manhandled by the federal government."

"I assure you, Dr. Brennan, we would never have intruded like this if there was any other way to handle the situation," the fresh-faced FBI agent named Donaldson they sent her said.

"I would be more cooperative if I understood exactly what the situation is," Temperance insisted.

"Dr. Brennan, we are waiting on the arrival of just one more person, and then we can take off and inform you of our destination, among other things."

"You don't understand. I've been out of the country for a year," Brennan said firmly, "and my friends have been waiting for me, and if you think I'm going to help you after you pull a stunt like this, then you are obviously more stupid than I originally gave you credit for."

"Jesus, they didn't kid about you, did they?" Donaldson asked, swallowing.

"Whatever they said, I'm sure it's been distorted by word of mouth."

"It's just that they say you're cranky."

"I'm only cranky when I'm surrounded by idiots," Temperance said, and she folded her arms over her chest and looked out the window.

"So, you're really not going to tell me what's going on?" Booth was sitting in the back seat of a government car, being escorted by two ridiculously young agents who wore sunglasses and were a little too quiet.

"Sir, we couldn't tell you even if we wanted to," one of them said. "We weren't given information about the mission, just to escort you to the airport and drop you off."

"Great." Booth flopped back against the seat. "Just great. I'm going to bust Hacker's balls. He does know I've just gotten off of a damn plane, doesn't he?"

"Yes, sir." The agent driving cleared his throat. "We're going to be escorting you around the back, sir."

"It's just Booth, guys."

"Yes, sir," they said in unison, and Seeley closed his eyes and looked up to the sky. The universe was really conspiring to annoy the crap out of him.

After an interminable amount of time, the door to the plane opened, and two agents dressed in black and sunglasses stepped in.

"Donaldson?"

"Yeah, Curry?"

"We've got him. He's just grabbing his bags. Wouldn't let us carry them."

Brennan rolled her eyes. That's just what she needed. Some macho jerk to bore her to death on the flight when she was supposed to be home, lounging in her bathtub and choosing what to wear the next time she saw...

Her eyes widened. "Booth?" She jumped to her feet.

"Bones?" His eyes widened and he dropped his bags and before she knew it, she was wrapped in his arms in something very much iunlike/i a guy hug.

For the first time, the day didn't seem like such a waste.