Please see first chapter for disclaimer, rating, warning, pairings, etc.

Part 2/?

-Chapter 1-

Proposition

Professor Teyla Emmagan critically examined this semester's offerings. Her classroom, only half full, seemed to be comprised of two different groups. One – by far the minority – were the heartily devoted. These were the proud few who had a true passion for archeology, who were willing to go to the ends of Earth to search for knowledge, truth, history. They wanted to brave the elements, the impossible terrain, the dangerous (usually poisonous, and sometimes deadly) animals; to find the treasure trove of knowledge waiting to be discovered.

The other group contained the ones who had seen the Indiana Jones movies a few too many times. They were the treasure hunters, who thought archeologists were people running around with bullwhips and guns – fighting Nazis and dangerous natives for gold and jewels beyond the imagination.

Teyla could say from personal experience that archeology wasn't that much of a novelty. She did not own a bullwhip, though she could confess to owning a gun. But it wasn't to fight Nazis – it was of sentimental value. She'd never used the thing, and never planned to use it. On anything human, anyway. Her office computer, on the other hand. . .

"Ladies and gentleman!" she said. Her brisk tone immediately called the class to order. Twenty-five pairs of eyes solemnly focused on her, as if they all realized the rumors were true and she did run a stern class. "Welcome to Archeology 101. No, this is not a joke, please don't laugh. I was not the one who chose to name this class. Apparently The Powers That Be who make up these class names have decided to sacrifice authenticity at the alter of efficiency." She rolled her eyes; this earned a few stifled giggles. Glaring over top of her small reading glasses at the offenders, she swiftly silenced them. "Now then. I believe in being entirely truthful with my class, so there are a few things you should know before we get to the really good stuff. The first of these things is very simple. Archeology itself is not like you see in the Indiana Jones movies. I must confess a certain fondness for the films, so please don't get me wrong. But we aren't constantly running around fighting Nazis and discovering fabulous treasures."

She could already see the majority's interest tapering. Interesting: this had to be a new record. All that remained was seeing how many of them would decide to stick it out – just in case.

"Now then." Turning to face the huge whiteboard taking up half the front wall, she reached into her skirt pocket and withdrew a black felt-tipped pen. Five years of teaching had helped her learn – after her very first day, even – that these things had a nasty tendency to disappear. She brought her own. "Here is the second thing you need to know. Archeology comprises of three percentages: ten percent field work, twenty percent research, and seventy percent paperwork."

Another round of giggles rustled through the class. She looked over her shoulder, one eyebrow arching. "You think I'm kidding?" Turning, she reached under her desk for the large box – which had once housed the brand-new ceiling fan still sitting in pieces on her living room floor – she'd put there earlier. Hefting it, she let it drop with a firm thud! on the surface of her desk. "This is the paperwork resulting from my most recent season in Egypt."

Jaws began to drop. Eyes widened to the approximate size of saucers. A couple of people actually turned pale.

"Now then. I know most people have a phobia about paperwork. I do, myself. But this is all part of it." Leaning a hip against the corner of her desk, Teyla earnestly looked from face to face. "I know this seems like a lot. But I can guarantee you – the wealth of knowledge, the sheer fun you have on that ten percent of time you spend on the dig – is well worth the trouble."

It really would be interesting to see who would stick with her for the semester.

-Teyla's Office, University of Chicago: Oriental Institute-

Teyla shoved the door leading into the waiting room open with her rear. Awkwardly balancing her huge box of paperwork, she maneuvered herself into the room and allowed the door to thump shut behind her.

Her secretary, a lovely woman named Marie, looked up from her computer. "There's someone waiting in your office," she said cheerfully.

Dropping her box on the floor in the corner – nearly taking out the potted plant there in the process – Teyla whipped off her reading glasses and stared at her assistant. "What?"

Marie blinked rapidly in surprise. "It's not a student," she said. "Looks like another professor."

Teyla reached up to rub at the ache developing at the front of her head. "Um – did they leave a name?"

A shrug. "No. But she said she knew you."

She. Teyla flipped through her mental Rolodex, trying to narrow down which shes would know to find her here. After that, she tried to narrow it down to the acquaintances who weren't off on archeological excursions of their own. "Hmm. Thank you, Marie. If someone shows up with a question – I'm in a meeting." Hopefully not a long one.

"Yes, Professor."

Teyla turned the knob while at the same time pushing the door open with her shoulder. She'd been bugging the janitor for three years to fix her door – it never got fixed. She very deliberately ignored the figure seated in the guest chair as she closed the door. In fact, she waited until she'd settled into her (uncomfortable) computer chair behind the desk before she paid a lick of attention to the woman. "May I help you?"

Warm green eyes sparkled as the other woman leaned across the desk. "Dr. Elizabeth Weir."

Hesitantly, Teyla shook her hand. "Professor Teyla Emmagan."

"I know." Dr. Weir leaned back in her seat, one hand brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "I've read all your published papers."

Teyla pushed some file folders out of her way so she could lean her elbows against the scratched surface of her desk. "I'm afraid I can't say the same about you," she said.

She laughed. "It's fine," Weir replied. "I'm not as well-known in the archeological community. Anyway, I greatly admire all the work and research you've done over your time in Egypt. In fact – I think you're the best person to help me."

Horribly confused, Teyla rubbed her forehead, now faintly throbbing with a deceptive, ominous gentleness. "I'm sorry, Dr. Weir. I am very flattered by your compliments, and that you came to see me. Please forgive me for being ignorant and abrupt, but – how can I help you?"

Elizabeth leaned forward, her eyes impassioned. "I know you have no reason to believe me, to help me. Most people consider me a crack-pot nut, anyway." She let out her breath in a soft laugh. "This is going to sound so crazy to you."

"I won't laugh, I promise," Teyla responded. She was too curious now to let Weir go on with her enigmatic, tempting little hints.

Weir folded her hands in her lap as she leaned forward. "Okay. I've done a lot of work in what is left of the ruins of Crete, Santorini, and the surrounding islands. There are many theories that the great cataclysm that occurred there is the same one that Plato cited in his stories of Atlantis."

Teyla nodded: as a student of archeology, she knew the stories.

"Now, I think they're right – at least, partly. After having worked in Crete and Santorini for so many years, I've familiarized myself with the area and local legends, stories, and the like. I've also found some artifacts that have given me reason to believe Atlantis did exist, and was destroyed – or at least hidden – by the same cataclysm that destroyed the civilization on Santorini." Elizabeth's eyes burned brightly with sincerity and enthusiasm for her discovery.

She'd heard a lot of unusual theories on Atlantis during her life – who hadn't? – but something about Dr. Weir's story caught Teyla. Leaning forward, she said: "What did you find?"

Elizabeth leaned forward to pull a briefcase into her lap. Turning it to face Teyla, she released the latches and opened it.

Cradled by a nest of foam sat two objects. The one on the left was of a figurine, mostly intact except for a missing foot and a chip of stone lost off the right cheek. The little statue was dressed in clothes like those most people thought the Atlantians had worn – except for an elaborate collar around its neck, which still had flakes of bright blue and orange paint on it. Teyla nearly choked. "That's an Egyptian neck piece," she breathed. "The pharaohs and other members of the royal court wore those. . ." She trailed off, unable to finish.

Weir nodded, a broad grin on her lips. "That's not all," she said. With one finger, she touched the tablet settled on the other side of the case. "I can't decipher much of the writing, but from what I have been able to read, this tablet talks about the 'impending doom' of Atlantis, and their planned escape route – to Egypt."

Teyla fell back in her seat. "Egypt – and Atlantis. . ." She lifted her hand to her mouth in shock. Before her sat proof – unsubstantiated, but proof nonetheless – that there was a link between the lost Atlantis and the Egypt which she'd been investigating for so many years.

Weir smiled. "Do you see why I wanted your help?" she asked. "You are America's foremost Egyptologist. You've spent a considerable portion of your life in Egypt, living among the people and working on discovering her secrets. You know more things about the myths, truths, history, landmarks, and artifacts than some people learn in a lifetime." Now she was well and truly begging, and Teyla felt herself starting to give in.

"I'll have to find someone to take over my classes," she mused.

Elizabeth's smile widened.

"Who else do you have on the team?" Teyla asked. She wanted to know who she would be working with before she said yes or no.

Weir's smile faltered. "At the moment? Me, of course. And I have a friend of mine, who is fantastic with technology and science. He typically doesn't assist archeological ventures, but since he's my friend, and he's made a lot of advances in technology that will help us on land and in the water – that is, if Atlantis is underwater – he agreed to come along to help." She drew in a deep breath.

Teyla thought back over that sentence. Only two people so far – not a huge expedition, and certainly not one like she was used to working with. But, if Weir was right and Atlantis did exist, and was within their grasp. . .

It could mean throwing her whole decorated, much-admired career down the drain. Following Dr. Weir could bring her name to ruin, and she could be called a quack for the rest of her life.

But she would take the chance. After all, hadn't she entered the archeological field to make new discoveries and find the impossible?

"Dr. Weir," she said slowly, "it looks like we're going to Egypt."

-To Be Continued-

TheWelcomeStranger: Thank you! I really loved writing the prologue, and I'm very excited about this story. I hope you enjoy this chapter, and thank you so much for the review!

Winchestergal78: Thank you! I hope you do – and that I won't disappoint you through this story! The first in this chapter was really fun to write, so I hope you enjoy it – and this whole chapter! Thank you so much for the review!

Hannah554: Thank you! I'm really excited about this story, so I hope you continue to enjoy it! (I've got a fic trailer done, too – just have to post it! lol) I hope you enjoy this chapter, and thank you so much for the review!

Bunnylass: Wow, thank you! I'm really glad you enjoyed the prologue. Me too! I love Egypt and Atlantis – the stories from one, and the myths from the other. Here's the next update – I hope you enjoy it, that it doesn't disappoint! Thank you so much for the review!