Chapter Two – Propositions

See Prologue for Disclaimer

Authors Notes at the end of the chapter.

The rain poured down, it didn't so much fall as remain a constant curtain from sky to ground through which the busy Kensington foot traffic waded. A tall figure strode through the puddles carrying a large suitcase in each hand, leather boots causing splash-back up the sides of tan trousers and shoulders hunched against the downpour. The well soaked hat brim, tipped forward, funnelled water down past narrowed green eyes and occasionally dropped on a sniffling nose, hands full and unable to pull the collar of the trench coat tight, a steady stream of water cascaded down their neck soaking the jacket and shirt under the coat.

"Bloody rain always bloody rain! Damned unnatural, stupid weather… I hate London."

The figure with the suitcases grumbled but kept walking, not seeing or more likely not caring about the few surprised and confused looks that were sent in their direction. Passers-by were confused by the decidedly feminine voice they heard coming from what they'd assumed was a man by the clothes and stride. Had anyone stopped to comment on their surprise Emma Swan would have given them the short end of the stick and told them to mind their own damned business, she was more than used to the comments her clothes often elicited and wasn't shy about telling people what they could do with their opinions. Emma had answered to no one but herself for most of her young life and wasn't about to change that state of affairs anytime soon.

Turning the corner Emma jumped away from the kerb trying unsuccessfully to avoid the small wave of water raised by the passage of a taxi through a very large puddle. The spray drenched her boot, trousers and the suitcase she was carrying on that side.

"You ass!" She yelled after the unconcerned driver.

Her anger grew worse when she realised it was the same taxi driver that had dropped her off five minutes earlier around the corner at the imposing main entrance to the Victoria and Albert Museum. The contact she was meeting hadn't bothered to mention the entrance to the research area of the museum was around the corner on Exhibition Road resulting in her having to walk around to the side of the huge building and her getting soaked from head to toe in the process. Finally she spotted the door in a small recess and pressed the bell to gain admittance. A few minutes later the door was opened by a thin young man wearing glasses and dressed in a dapper tweed suit, the very image of a British scholar. He quickly moved aside when Emma eagerly pushed her way into the foyer to get out of the downpour.

"Can I help you Sir?" He secured the door and turned to see Emma removing her hat and shaking out her long blonde curls while simultaneously undoing the belt of her trench coat to get the soaking wet weight off her shoulders. Glancing up she winked at his astounded and open mouthed expression of surprise.

"You sure can, Sonny." Her tone was only slightly mocking around the title of Sonny. "Tell me where I can find James Horton's office and maybe bring me a nice cup of hot coffee."

"Is Mr Horton expecting you Miss?" The young man seemed to be recovering from his shock at discovering Emma was a woman.

"He ruddy well better be I've got a few choice words to share with him. So where's his office?"

"Have you a card? I'm in charge of all visitors in this part of the museum and need to check you off on the visitors list. If Mr Horton is in fact expecting you, he'll have put your name on the list."

His tone indicated he didn't believe her appointment existed and now fully recovered from his surprise he slipped into his most officious manner, sniffing dismissively at the unkempt and certainly unwomanly figure in front of him. Emma nearly laughed out loud at the sight of him trying to look down his nose at her in disapproval, a stance that was less than impressive given that he was some four inches shorter than her and had to tilt his head backward to do it.

"Name's Emma Swan."

The man waited, expecting her to hand over a calling card but she just arched an eyebrow and continued shaking her coat and hat to rid them of as much water as she could. Sighing in frustration, he made his way over to a small desk at the side of the foyer and picked up a clip board making a great show of examining the paper in front of him. Watching him Emma saw the tick of surprise his eye gave when he obviously came across her name on his list.

"Yes, well it appears Mr Horton has put you down. Follow me please."

Dropping the clipboard he headed toward Emma intending to relieve her of the heavy suitcases but was stopped suddenly when she shoved the dripping coat and hat into his hands and picked up the cases herself.

"Lead the way, Sonny."

Holding the sodden material away from his pristine clothes he grimaced.

"My name is Saunders, Miss Swan, not Sonny." He opened the door to a long corridor and motioned for Emma to go through.

"Whatever you say…Sonny."

Twenty minutes later Emma sat in front of a large desk reluctantly sipping milky tea from a china cup while carefully watching the man in front of her inspecting and making notes on each of the pieces in the first of the cases to be opened. The smarmy Mr Saunders had come back with his version of suitable refreshment, proper English tea, rather than Emma's requested coffee and she took what was offered grateful at least for the warmth.

"Well Miss Swan all these pieces are adequate and a few are exceptional, this shawabti in particular is exquisite."

He held up the beautiful figure carved holding a hammer stone and chisel and formed of fine quality lapis lazuli and inscribed with columns of hieroglyphs all across its torso.

"I'm not much of a linguist, but I see there's a cartouche here, do you know what it says?"

Emma raised an eye at his claim, given his instructions and the specifications she'd worked from, she highly doubted his claim of ignorance, but held her hand out for the figure anyway before making a show of examining the inscription. She knew very well what it said having spent the two week voyage from Alexandria to Southampton recording and translating all the material she was handing over today. Unlike many freelance diggers, Emma kept meticulous records of all her finds before delivering them to those who'd paid for them, or selling pieces on the black market. The four years she'd worked with the American Egyptologist, Herbert Winlock, had instilled a love of research and proper archaeological protocol she always tried to maintain…even in her more unofficial excavations.

Emma turned the figure in her hand, enjoying the cool feel of the carved blue stone, the fact the shawabti was actual lapis and not the cheaper quartz fabrication of faience and the fact it contained a royal cartouche made it a somewhat rare and important find and she intended to get its true worth from the man sitting in front of her. Drawing her finger across the carefully inscribed characters she read in translation.

"O shawabti, given to me, if I, Wehemibre, Lord of the Two Lands, be summoned or if I be detailed to shape and form stone in the realm of the dead, you shall detail yourself for me on every occasion of shaping and forming stone for the purposes of Osiris Lord of the Dead; `Here am I', you shall say."

"Wehemibre? You're sure that's Necho's cartouche?"

"Absolutely sure."

She pointed at the small stack of paperwork beside the case on the table.

"As was the Antiquities Service officer who inspected the material before I left."

These finds were the fruit of an officially licenced excavation she'd undertaken in the western reaches of the Delta and were properly documented. She'd been forced to leave behind the three gold shawabti figures they'd found and the small cache of gold and even rarer silver amulets that she'd discovered at the same time, as the authorities had insisted they had exceptional cultural and intrinsic value and would therefore be allotted to the Cairo Museum. The stack of papers beside the case included pictures and documentation of these items too because they were part of the finds commissioned by the museum.

Horton nodded his agreement and carefully repacked the first case before moving on to the second one to inspect its contents. When the man was satisfied that all the items and their paperwork were correct and in order he sat back and observed the unconventional young woman sitting opposite. Despite his personal distaste for her eccentricities, he'd engaged her on the enthusiastic recommendation of a friend and colleague from Manchester, to look for more Egyptian material for the V&A. The museum very much needed to improve its comparatively small Egyptian collection. The obsession with Tutankhamen and all things Egyptian was still rampant and they were in competition with one of the leading Egyptian collections in Europe only two miles away at the British Museum. The collection of 42 objects on his desk would form the new heart of a special Pharaonic and Coptic Egyptian exhibit which would hopefully result in more visitors and wealthy benefactors.

"So now that you've checked everything, can I get my payment, I'd like to be on my way, I have a few other things to do today."

Horton's attention was brought back to his visitor who had dispensed with her tea cup and was now sitting forward in her chair elbows leaning on widespread knees in the most mannish posture he'd yet seen from the woman. Suddenly his sense of social propriety rose to the fore and he felt the urgent need to teach Emma Swan a lesson for so obviously flouting social norms with her manly dress and profession.

"Yes well, as I said, the collection is adequate but not spectacular, and as we paid for the dig licence and concession already, I'm afraid we can't consider anything more than £350 for the whole …"

"Stop right there Horton and don't waste my time by being an ass. What, you think because I'm a woman who wears trousers I'm stupid or something?"

The blonde reached into her jacket pocket and threw a packet of papers on the desk in front of him.

"Your signature, the Chief Curator's and mine. Just let me remind you of the essential points shall I? Payment of £1500 to cover my general fee, and all monies for the registration of the dig concession, administrative payments, hiring of dig personnel and payment of necessary bribes will be paid half in advance and the remainder upon completion of excavation regardless of the quality or quantity of finds. All finds to be paid for on the standard scale with reference to their type, quantity and quality and anything of unique..."

The man continued to scowl at her confident litany of the details in the contract he'd signed before she went to Egypt seven months previously. He was angry with himself for having been so preoccupied with wanting to put the woman in her place he'd ended up making a fool of himself instead. Eventually he looked her in the eye when she stopped her recitation, his hackles rose again at the hard stare she was levelling at him but when she revealed her next statement his shoulders slouched in abject defeat knowing that she had him over a barrel.

"I'm not going to quibble with you Horton, I had dinner with a friend of mine last night, Margaret Murray, perhaps you've heard of her? She and my fellow dinner guests were quite impressed with the finds in fact Sir Wallis Budge, one of those guests, assures me he will put in a very good word with his successor at the BM if you fail to meet my price."

The feral grin she levelled at him with that last statement was enough to cause him to shiver in dread and he immediately wondered what exorbitant amount she was going to demand for payment. 'Damn it' he thought to himself 'why didn't I just keep my mouth shut.'

"You'll be pleased to hear Horton, that unlike some of my colleagues I honour my commitments and don't try to squeeze my customers dry. So I'll take the remaining £750 plus another £1250 for the 42 items here, a fair price I'm sure you'll agree."

Emma sat back with satisfaction, these armchair scholars like Horton, who never left the clean comfort of their ivory towers, never did the digging nor understood the skill required to excavate annoyed her no end and she truly relished being able to put one of them down.

"I'm sure you have the main cheque already drafted, so if you can hurry up and get me the cheque for the other £1250 I'll be on my way."

A short time later, a still somewhat damp Emma Swan left James Horton's office encumbered only by two cheques in place of the two cases with which she'd arrived. Her mood was elated that little bit more when she bullied young Saunders into letting her through the private entrance into the museum proper eliminating the need for her to go out in the rain again.

A few hours later Emma was settled in the museum's newly installed and very busy refreshment room waiting for the coffee and sandwiches she'd ordered to arrive. She'd spent an enjoyable time looking through a few of the galleries, getting a feel for the collections and making some notes on things that might be of interest to the museum in the future. Not that she intended to work with James Horton again if she could help it, but she'd always need buyers and if she had the goods, well then business was business.

While waiting for her order, Emma continued to busily check and make notes on the other contacts she intended to see while she was in London. She'd already delivered her other, less legally obtained, finds to her usual buyer in Bloomsbury and gotten an excellent price for them. Emma was very careful with her money and had saved a considerable sum from her busy five years of freelance excavating that would more than see her through any lean times that might come in the future. Having had none or very little of it for most of her life, Emma knew that money meant control and autonomy. Never again would she allow herself to be at anyone else's mercy financially, her experiences as a captive servant in the Cuthbert household in Cairo, her time on the streets and her marginally better stay with the charitable Sisters of Mercy in the Bronx as a teenager had left their different scars on the young woman, physical and mental, and she was determined she would never be that helpless again.

A large shadow loomed over her table blocking the light from the window above and Emma looked up with a smile expecting to see a waiter with her late lunch. What she saw instead were two men in damp trench coats and limp trilby hats tipped back slightly. One of the men was huge, well over six feet tall and not much less than that in width, his coat looked like it was straining at the seams to cover his massive bulk. The other man was much smaller, shorter than Emma even, and had a scruffy beard that looked like a teenaged boy's first attempt at having whiskers. He sported a strangely pained expression as if he was trying to work out a complex puzzle and it was getting the better of him. He took his hat off and spoke directly to her.

"Miss Emma Swan?"

"Who wants to know?" She growled out. Emma eyed the men suspiciously, her street survival instincts kicking in and signalling potential danger.

"I'd like to have a word. Do you mind if I join you?"

His face changed expression to what Emma assumed was meant to be a charming smile but looked more like a sphincter controlling grimace. Her instincts spiked again when he casually sat down without waiting for her reply. Trying to maintain the impression of friendliness he offered his hand across the table top.

"I'm Robert Locksley, a pleasure to meet you."

Emma arched an eyebrow ignoring the proffered hand and folded her arms over her chest but said not a word and watched his face become clouded in confusion once again not understanding her silence. He took his hand back and placed the hat he held in the other on the table.

"I apologise for the forwardness Miss Swan, but I've been looking for you for the past two days, you're not an easy girl to find." His tone was smooth and meant to be playful to match his smile which as far as Emma was concerned made him look like he was suffering from terrible constipation.

"That might be because I'm not a girl. Not that I actually said you could join me, but why don't you just say what you have to say so I can get on with my lunch?" Emma spoke to the man seated in front of her, but her eyes were on the behemoth of a man standing behind him thinking him the more obvious and greater danger.

"Yes, quite. Well Miss Swan I'm here on behalf of my employer who wishes to acquire your, umm, expert services shall we say."

The way his voice purred over the word services made Emma's stomach turn the innuendo was so obvious. Emma lived her life on her own terms and for her own comfort, clothes, profession and attitude all bearing witness to that fact. She would never understand what it was that made men either assume that she wanted to be a man, which she didn't, or that because she was different from most women in her free way of living that the difference must include some kind of sexual free for all they could benefit from. Men, she decided, were either idiots, pigs or both with few exceptions.

"Listen buddy, just give me your bosses name and I'll give him a call…if I have time." She reached out for her notebook and pen to write the name down.

"I'm afraid that won't do Miss Swan. Professor Gold is very particular you see. My instructions are to bring you to him to discuss a commission he wants you to take."

"Gold, you mean Rupert Gold? The one who used to be a Don at Cambridge? The one who went totally screwy and started carving up sheep and dogs in his digs at King's College?"

Robert Locksley dropped his smile looking uncomfortable at the unflattering but quite accurate description of his employer. His discomfort grew when he saw the knowing smirk on the blonde's face as she sat back and continued speaking.

"Yeah, that would be a definite not interested pal. I prefer not to work for lunatics and madmen."

Glancing to her left she saw a waiter approaching the table at last.

"You've got your answer, and my lunch is here so I'll say good day to you."

The waiter arrived and placed the tray on the table looking uncertainly at the table's occupants and the giant of a man standing next to the table. He began to move the contents of the tray to the table; sandwich and cake tiers, pot of coffee, plate, cup, saucer and cutlery.

"Um, would you care to order something for your companions Miss?"

"No thank you. They're just leaving." Emma looked pointedly at the two intruders. "They were just asking for directions to the main entrance." Grinning she continued. "I've not been to the museum before so wasn't able to help them very much, perhaps you could have one of the museum guards show them the way."

The waiter, quite taken with Emma's beauty despite her unusual clothes, caught onto her hinting and stepped toward the two men.

"Certainly Miss. Gentlemen if you'll come with me, there's a guard just outside the main door here, I'm sure he'll be happy to escort you."

Locksley's large companion took a step toward the waiter trying to intimidate the young man, who, to his credit, stood his ground, gesturing for the men to move toward the exit.

"I'm sorry you feel this way Miss Swan, Professor Gold was quite insistent that he wished to see you." He leaned forward and continued quietly so that only Emma could hear him. "I assure you Miss Swan, he is not accustomed to having his will thwarted."

"I'm sure you'll break it to him gently. Goodbye Mr Locksley."

"Gentlemen." The waiter interjected firmly. For half a moment it looked like the shorter man might object but eventually he shrugged and stood up, jerking his head to his companion.

"Come on John, let's go." He put his hat back on and turned to Emma.

"I'm sure we'll meet again Miss Swan." He smirked.

"Yeah, and I'm sure we won't."

The two men moved off toward the exit, the waiter following along to make sure they didn't linger and to see that the guard escorted them from the building. Emma put the encounter out of her mind and tucked into her lunch, savouring the hot bitter taste of the coffee she'd been longing for all day.

Nearly an hour later Emma stood on the top step of the museum entrance scowling at the still falling rain and pulling her collar tight around her neck. Scanning the busy road she searched for any passing cabs she could hail but quickly realised she'd need to leave the relative shelter of the archway above her to brave the downpour kerbside if she wanted to be successful. Hunching her shoulders she stepped down into the downpour. When she reached the pavement she headed to the kerb looking down the road at the oncoming traffic but couldn't make out any cabs. She was about to turn round to check the other direction when she felt her elbow taken in a firm grip.

"What the hell!"

Emma exclaimed looking up into the smug face of Robert Locksley who slipped his arm around her waist and pulled her roughly into his side where she felt something sharp jab into her ribs. She glanced down to see the dull black barrel of a revolver held in his other hand.

"I'm sorry Miss Swan but I really must insist you accompany us to meet with the Professor."

Emma, too busy struggling to pull away from his firm grip, didn't notice the large black car pull to a stop beside them nor the door swinging quickly open before she felt herself tumbling into the dark interior falling half on the leather seat and half on John, her kidnapper 's giant companion from earlier. She scrambled to right herself and turn to escape only to feel the sharp sting of a pistol handle connecting with her temple before darkness overcame her.

"Miss Swan."

Emma thought she heard her name being called, but the sound was muffled and sounded like it was coming from a great distance, if only the blinding pain in her head would stop so she could focus.

"Miss Swan, come now, it's time for you to wake up."

The voice was there again closer this time and more insistent. She felt her shoulders being shaken causing her head to loll and the pain to stab through her skull. Giving a small cry she pulled away from the hand at her shoulder her eyes snapping open as she tried to scramble back from the stranger bent over her.

"Who the hell are you?" She rasped stopping her backwards movement when she found herself trapped against the arm of the chaise longue on which she was lying. Her panic was slightly overtaken by another sharp stab of pain across her left temple and she raised her hand to try and ease the throbbing agony surrounding her eye there.

"Damn that hurts!"

Emma rubbed her head and glared at the man who was now moving toward a chair a few feet away, his gait was somewhat halting and aided by a gold-capped walking stick. Trying to get her bearings, the blonde's eyes darted around the room looking for the exit but also noting the vast book cases, huge oak desk by the window, a round table strewn with books and papers and several other pieces of furniture in the cluttered space as she searched for her quickest escape route. The pain in her head eased slightly causing her to suddenly remember what had happened with Robert Locksley. She jumped angrily to her feet ignoring the wave of nausea that rolled through her stomach at the sudden change in position, she realised where she was now and who the man opposite must be.

"Jesus H Christ! What are you playing at Gold?" She glared at the man who sat comfortably before her with a simpering half smile showing his amusement at her outburst. He was older, maybe in his fifties with unusually long hair nearly to his shoulders and dressed in an expensive, well-tailored suit, he relaxed into the leather chair as if it were a throne before propping both hands on his walking stick.

"Welcome Miss Swan, what a pleasure to make your acquaintance at last. I've been following your career for a number of years now. That little adventure of yours in Aswan was particularly impressive I must say. Whatever made you dig in the western wadi instead of the eastern I wonder?"

The half-smile on the older man's face turned into a full on crocodile grin when he saw Emma's jaw drop at this nonchalant greeting. In fact he was so ridiculously entertained by the look of incredulity on the girl's face he actually tittered out loud.

"You think this is funny? Seriously? That's what you have to say to me after your goons punched my lights out? Damn it you are a barmy bastard if you think kidnapping is the way to convince someone to work for you."

"Yes, well sometimes Mr Locksley is a little…" He tittered again and continued in a sickly sing-song voice. "… over-zealous in his desire to carry out his instructions, but I really shouldn't complain about such exceptional loyalty now should I?"

Emma stared at him shook her head and muttered, "Total Loon." Then she turned and headed for the door, concentrating hard to make sure she didn't wobble on her still shaky legs.

"Please Miss Swan, now that you're here, it would be best if you sat down and at least heard what I'm proposing."

The blonde ignored him and continued her march to the door grabbing the handle and wrenching it open so that it slammed against the wall. Head down, she barrelled through the doorway and ran headfirst into the man-mountain that was called John. She staggered back in surprise at the renewed pain in her head which lead to a string of foul language that left John unmoved before her and Gold cackling jovially behind her. She leant heavily against the wall until the stabbing pain receded and growled at the man in her path.

"Look Goliath, I've seen your boss and we're done so just get the hell out of my way."

John looked over to Gold and at the shake of the older man's head stayed where he was, blocking the blonde's only exit. Frustrated and in pain Emma took several deep breaths trying to get her anger under control, she needed to calm down and think clearly if she was going to get herself out of here. Gold was obviously determined to have his say and there appeared to be little she could do about it. She could listen to him at least and even agree to his terms if she had to, it didn't mean she had to follow through once she was out of here. Taking one last deep breath she pushed away from the wall and returned to the chaise longue glaring at Gold the whole time.

"At last you're seeing sense Miss Swan, I promise you won't regret it, I have quite the deal for you."

"Just get on with it Gold."

"Fine, fine, John would you have some tea sent up and ask Robert to join us."

Emma bristled at the mention of Locksley and scowled at the older man. Gold gave her another crocodile grin and settled back comfortably in his chair choosing not to respond to the blonde's reaction. He leant his stick against the table beside him just before the door opened and Locksley sauntered into the room. Emma glowered at the man and half rose from the chaise to confront him but Gold interjected.

"I'm sure Robert will apologise for his excesses earlier Miss Swan. I do so like my people to get along."

Locksley smirked at Emma giving a sketchy bow in her general direction before moving toward Gold. He spoke to the blonde while he settled into a chair set about half way between her and Gold.

"I did say you'd be seeing me again Miss Swan, my apologies for our difference of opinion earlier today. I'm sure you understand, it's just business."

"Can it Locksley! Just count yourself lucky I've decided to listen to what the old man has to say. Maybe if I like what I hear I'll forget about kicking your ass before I leave."

She turned back to Gold before continuing, her look remaining just as severe.

"Like I said, get on with it so I can get the hell out of here."

"Patience Dearie, all will be revealed forthwith."

Emma cringed both at his faux endearment and the sing-song tone of his speech.

"One of my, well shall we say one of my associates, Captain Jones, recently sent me a particularly interesting scrap of papyrus that he came across in a Cairo street market a few months back…"

Gold proceeded to inform Emma that the fragment was part of a map and its accompanying legend. He also told her he'd discovered that the map was connected to an assortment of papyri that he'd kept from his excavations in the Sinai desert more than a decade earlier. A few of those earlier fragments, though filled with numerous large gaps and smaller lacunae, listed a number of libraries attached to various temples along the Nile from Tanis in the north all the way to Gebel Barkal in the far south of Nubia. The names of three of these libraries also appeared on the new papyrus in the correct geographical positions referenced in the earlier papyri.

He pointed out that all the fragments dated from the Late Period, one definitely from the reign of Amasis and one mentioning an endowment given to the library attached to the temple of the Apis bull in Memphis during the first Persian Period less than a hundred years before the conquest by Alexander the Great. They both knew it was these earlier libraries upon which Ptolemy II had modelled his great library in Alexandria.

Listening to Gold's story, Emma felt the tendril of excitement begin to curl in her gut and sat a little straighter on the chaise longue making sure not to miss a word the man was saying. Libraries, damn! Not just one, but many, maybe even dozens, all filled with the lost knowledge of the ancients…if even one of them was still intact it would be the discovery of a lifetime. Her mind reeled at the potential but she kept her face a neutral mask not giving away any sign of her interest.

Gold watched her carefully noting her bland expression but also noting when her body tensed and she sat forward, recognising from that movement that he'd hooked his fish at last, now all he had to do was reel her in and land her. To that end he decided to give her a little line and sweeten the bait, He paused and addressed Locksley.

"Robert fetch the two boxes in the top drawer of my desk please and place them on the table."

The younger man got up immediately to do his bidding and he turned back to Emma.

"Why not have a look for yourself Miss Swan. The map is in the walnut box and the other papyri are in the cherry wood box." He swept his arm toward the table inviting her to examine the papyri.

Emma was itching to take him up on the offer, but didn't want to appear too eager so stayed where she was waiting for him to continue. He raised a brow amused rather than annoyed by her stubbornness, it was a trait he intended to exploit after all.

"Please Miss Swan come and see the material, you'll need to study it carefully if you accept my commission."

Gold took up his walking stick and walking over to the chaise and motioning an invitation for Emma to join him at the table wear Locksley had laid the boxes one beside the other before removing their lids and returning to his seat. Giving a shrug of implied indifference Emma rose and stepped over to the table. The larger box revealed dozens of scraps of papyri, varying in shade from the palest yellow to dark brown all cleverly mounted between wood framed sheets of glass neatly stacked one on top of the other. The smaller box held only the single piece of torn papyrus carefully clipped to a glass plate but not yet properly mounted. She reached out for the map box to reposition it better under the overhead light, where she proceeded to examine the map, immediately recognising that it was portraying the western delta area of the Nile.

"Have you heard of the Book of Thoth Miss Swan?"

Emma blinked at the unexpected interruption but thought for a few minutes before answering.

"Uh, you mean the one in the story about Setne Khamwese and the tomb of Neferkaptah? It was some book holding the secrets of Thoth's wisdom that Neferkaptah stole and ended up dying for or something like that."

"Indeed that's the tale, or at least it's the Ptolemaic version that has come down to us yes."

He watched Emma continue to study the map, assuming she was trying to decipher the scrawled Demotic script on the left of the fragment.

"What you do not know is that the ancient sources were mistaken, the book Neferkaptah pilfered did not hold the paltry wisdom of Thoth but the dark and deep secrets of the Mysteries of Osiris."

Emma looked up sharply from the map and eyed the older man. Something in the tone of his voice sounded slightly off, just strange enough to catch the blonde's attention. The crocodile smile returned and Emma shivered at the intent glint in his eye as he stared at her. The look brought to mind stories of the man's fall from grace as a respected Cambridge academic, not to mention the rumours of his decent into madness that precipitated that fall. They were only rumours as far as she knew, built on the strange actions of yet another wealthy English eccentric. She held no truck with the current interest in things spiritual and esoteric like Gold did, she knew Egypt, it's life and rhythms and most of all Emma was a digger and she dealt in the hard reality of sand, sweat and stone.

"And you know this how exactly?"

"A lifetime of research and determination Miss Swan. Well that and just the right amount of luck and of course the small matter of destiny." The end statement was made in his strange sing-song lilt and with a quirky twirl of his hand.

They were interrupted by the arrival of a maid with the tea tray who carefully placed it on the table on the side furthest away from the boxes of papyri. Gold dismissed her and asked Emma if she would play hostess, sniggering at the blonde's rude dismissal and indication that Locksley could 'be mother' because she'd had quite enough of milky English tea for this visit. The older man laughed and poured himself a cup before returning to his chair.

"Now to business Miss Swan. As I said my associate, Captain Jones came across the map piece in one of the Cairo souks, he was less than detailed about it I'm afraid so I'm not sure which part of the city he was in." He took a sip from his cup, sighing in satisfaction before continuing. " I want to hire you to find out the provenance of the map and see if you can discover any more pieces that could fill in the blanks."

"You think I can trace the origin of a 6 by 4 inch piece of papyrus someone bought in the back streets of Cairo? Are you serious? Finding more scraps, sure no problem there, maybe even scraps with maps, but find out where that one came from? 'Fraid it can't be done Professor." She snorted derisively at his impossible request.

"Ahh but if there was anyone who could manage to do it, it would be you wouldn't it?" Unfazed by her dismissal of his request he continued to goad her and stroke her ego in an attempt to convince her to accept the job.

"Your knowledge of antiquities and more importantly your intimate knowledge of the back streets and black markets of Cairo make you the best candidate for the job Miss Swan. I will pay you handsomely to search and a king's ransom if you succeed."

"Define handsome and ransom Professor?" Emma wasn't against taking the man's money, even for a hopeless case, and as he understood the need for separating payment for the searching and the unlikely finding it didn't matter if she was successful or not.

"I'll pay you £1000 just to search, if you haven't found anything in six months I'll either pay you another £1000 for six more months or you can quit and we'll be done."

"And if I find out where it comes from or find another piece of the map?" The blonde queried.

"For its proven provenance I'll pay you £500." His eyes became slightly manic in their intensity. "Bring me another piece with more locations and I'll pay you £5000."

Emma sat stunned at the amount of money he was offering for a single fragment of papyrus. Hell even the amount he was willing to pay just for a six month search would keep her very comfortably for several years in Egypt. She didn't have a new commission lined up yet and there wasn't anything to say she couldn't take on other work while she searched…it really was an amazing offer.

"Well Miss. Swan, do we have a deal?"

Making a decision that mad money was still money Emma nodded her head.

"Yes I believe we can do business Professor…if the £500 is up front and we whip up a binding contract with the other specifics."

Locksley, who'd been silently watching the other two while drinking his own tea spluttered at the blonde's cheeky demands. He'd dealt with all kinds of people in the three years he'd been working for Gold but Emma Swan had quickly become one of the most annoying assignments he'd ever had from his employer. And the money he was willing to pay her, and she wanted it up front! He couldn't help it, his hackles rose and he spoke up.

"You expect to be paid before the job is even started?

Emma pointedly ignored his interjection and addressed the older man.

"Those are my terms Professor, take 'em or leave 'em, either way I'm leaving here in the next five minutes."

Locksley's face reddened considerably at being ignored by the blonde and he turned to his boss, whining out his objection to her demands like a petulant child.

"Don't agree to it Professor, you'll be paying her more than double what I'm paid in a year for doing absolutely nothing." He sneered at Emma before adding. "I guarantee you the little guttersnipe will take your money and not bother to search a single day once she's back in Egypt."

"Do be quiet Robert. I know far more about Miss Swan than you do and I trust her demand for a written contract is an excellent indication she'll hold up her end of the bargain. Besides, I can tell that her curiosity has been piqued and she'll want to scratch that itch as soon as possible."

He grinned knowingly at Emma.

"We have a deal then Miss Swan, as I knew we would. I'll have my barrister draw up the paperwork tomorrow and we can meet in his chambers to sign it all the day after. I'll see that you get a copy of the pieces I have for a reference when I send you the appointment details tomorrow."

Gold stood, leaning slightly on his walking stick and held out his hand to Emma who had stood at the same time. Nodding she took his hand in a firm grasp managing not to recoil from the clammy feel of his skin.

"You've got your deal Gold. Don't forget to have the cash as well when we meet to sign things. I'll be on my way now."

During her movements around the room she'd noticed her hat and coat hung on a clothes rack by the window so made her way over to it and shrugging immediately into the coat but keeping hold of the hat in one hand. Gold called out John's name and the giant opened the door immediately taking a step or two into the room to see what his boss wanted.

"Miss Swan will be leaving now John, could you see her to the door please."

Emma grimaced when it occurred to her she had no idea where in London she was at that moment so she turned to the Professor.

"By the way, where the hell are we? I need to get back to my digs and I'd prefer not to get drowned again today."

"We're in Ealing, but not to worry, I'll have my driver take you back to Kensington Miss Swan." Gold offered.

"I'll pass on that just tell me where I can hail a cab."

Gold tried to insist that his car would take her back, but Emma had had enough of Gold's minions and eventually got the directions she needed from the professor. When she turned to leave she noticed Locksley still glaring at her with open disdain.

Emma detoured towards him on her way out, walking straight up to the glowering man. Before he knew what was happening she pulled back and punched him hard across the jaw sending him to his knees in front of her where she finished him off with a kick to his groin causing him to double over writhing in agony on the floor.

"Sorry, but I changed my mind about kicking your ass. Now we're even."

Emma's hand hurt like hell from the punch so she shook it out while she pulled her hat on with the other hand. Making her way to the door she had a wide grin in place when she saw the giant John's look of surprise and she laughed out loud when he carefully covered his manhood with his hands as she passed him and headed out the door.

A/N 1: The Discovery of Tutankhamen's tomb in late 1922 resulted in a worldwide sensation known as Egyptomania (or sometimes more specifically Tutmania.). The discovery influenced amongst other things, popular art, literature, theatre, film and architecture. It also caused a major boom in archaeological exploration in Egypt. The antiquities service of the time approached this previously unprecedented demand with both new restrictions and requirements for would be excavations in the country and at many levels, a pragmatic understanding and utilisation of the revenue to be made by granting excavation licenses and concessions willy nilly. There was also a major resurgence of the black-market trade in antiquities often fed by the increase in illegal local digging that flourished to feed this new worldwide demand for Egyptian artefacts. Emma operates within this strangely regulated free for all one foot in each camp so to speak so she not only takes legitimate commissions but also dabbles in clandestine trade as well.

A/N 2: The study of ancient Egypt has always been an evolving discipline as new discoveries add to and change knowledge and perceptions. This is particularly evident in linguistics where great strides in deciphering the evolving Egyptian language from its first appearance c.3300 BCE to the last hieroglyphic inscription in 410 CE were made over the first three quarters of the 20th century. A great deal of earlier held views and conventions of translation and transliteration of ancient Egyptian were changed time and again and changed back again over this period. i.e. the name for the funerary servant figures found in Egyptian tombs were variously translated as Ushabti, Washabti, Shawabti, and Shabti figurines, depending on which transliteration convention was current at the time. I have tried where possible to use the transliterations that would have been current in the 1920s…as much as they really grate on my nerves, lolol. (i.e. I much prefer the more modern translations of Tutankhamun and Ushabti rather than Tutankhamen and Shawabti which were popular in the 1920s.)

A/N3: Margaret Murray and Sir E.A. Wallis Budge are well known British Egyptologists associated with Flinders Petrie and the British Museum in the late 19th and first half of the 20the centuries.