Title: Crossing Bridges

Author: Jedi Buttercup

Disclaimer: The words are mine; the worlds are not. I claim nothing but the plot.

Rating: PG-13.

Summary: B:tVS, SG-1. She wouldn't give Beth up for anything, not now that the young woman had finally come back to her, but there was no way she could have her and SG-1 both. 1500 words.

Spoilers: B:tVS through 2.22 "Becoming, Part 2". Stargate SG-1 through 2.03 "Prisoners".

Sam walked down the ramp with her team, utterly exhausted after their several-day ordeal and half-panicking with worry. She'd been able to calm herself in the prison, telling herself that Janet would be taking good care of Beth while she was gone and there was nothing she could do until she got back to Earth anyway, but the closer she got to being able to leave base and go home, the worse she felt.

It had been the first time she'd ever left on a mission where she'd felt like she might be leaving something behind, like she might miss something important. In retrospect, she knew she should have paid attention to those feelings.

By the time they'd reached P2A-509 earlier that day, she'd been so distracted that she hadn't even been able to successfully argue her point with Colonel O'Neill about Linea; though he had agreed that the woman might have a lot to contribute, he had overruled her, saying that the scientist who'd helped them escape Hadante should stay offworld until they'd checked out a little more of her story and cleared her request for a visit with the chain of command. Sam couldn't help but think that if her head had been more fully in the game, she might have convinced him that any delay could seriously set back potential scientific progress-- but then again, that was why she'd decided to put in for a transfer off the team, wasn't it? She wouldn't give Beth up for anything, not now that the young woman had finally come back to her, but there was no way she could have her and SG-1 both.

General Hammond was waiting at the bottom of the ramp, and he shook his head at SG-1 in amazement as the team approached him. "Where in the name of Heaven did you come from?" he asked.

"Prison, actually," the Colonel replied flippantly. "We just broke out."

"Well, how?" Hammond asked, flabbergasted. "Your remote transmitters have been returned to us. SG-9 and I spent the last two days trying to negotiate your release. With no luck, I might add."

"Well, actually, we returned via P2A-509," Daniel spoke up.

Sam nodded, and put in her two cents. "Daniel remembered that SG-3 would be there, sir. Major Warren found us and was good enough to let us borrow a transmitter to open the iris."

Hammond shook his head. "Well, I'd like you all to report to the infirmary; we'll debrief after you've had a chance to rest."

The others nodded, wearily trooping toward the side door of the gate room. Sam moved to follow them, but the general stopped her with a gesture. "And Captain," he said, "I suggest you also place a call to Dr. Fraser's residence. There's a young woman there by the name of Beth Carter who's been very concerned about your welfare."

Sam winced at the knowing look-- and the questions-- in the General's kind eyes. "Yes, sir," she said. "I-- I've been meaning to ask you and Colonel O'Neill about withdrawing from the team as much as possible, at least for a couple of years."

He didn't look very surprised, but he did look disappointed, and Sam's heart sank even further. General Hammond and Sam's father were friends and contemporaries, and just as Jacob Carter's disappointment in her had always cut to the quick, Hammond's reaction made her feel guilty, as though she were personally letting him down.

She hastened to soften the blow. "There must be other astrophysicists out there who can fulfill the same function I do on a first contact team. Of course I'd be willing to return for missions on which my knowledge or skill set would be irreplaceable, but in general, I think I'll be more useful to the project here on base, working in the labs."

"You've thought this through," the general replied, neutrally.

Sam ducked her head. "I would have said something already, but this was just supposed to be a simple, one-day mission to an insignificant planet; I wanted at least one more mission under my belt before I announced my intent to leave the team. I just-- I wanted to make it clear that what happened with Jolinar had nothing to do with it."

"Things do have a way of becoming complicated where SG-1 is concerned," he replied, shaking his head. "I suggest you go home after the debriefing and come up with a specific plan of action for withdrawing from the team and a list of potential replacements; we can't afford to have the team out of action for any longer than is necessary."

"Yes, sir," Sam said, quickly.

"Dismissed, Captain," Hammond nodded, his expression more sympathetic now. "And-- good luck telling Colonel O'Neill."

She shuddered. "Thank you, sir; I'm sure I'll need it," she said ruefully, then turned to follow the others to the infirmary.

The phone call had been a huge relief to Buffy's frazzled nerves, but Sam's return still didn't feel real to her until hours later, when the wayward Captain-Doctor finally pulled up out front of her home.

Buffy still didn't understand how an Air Force astrophysicist based in Colorado could ever end up assigned to field missions, much less an extremely dangerous one that could balloon up from the quick, in-and-out, one-afternoon jaunt Sam had promised into a days-long, we-can't-tell-you-anything-miss utter nightmare. She had been fully prepared to like Janet when Sam had introduced them to each other several days before, but she'd been almost ready to throttle the woman and run again after the third or fourth "I'm sorry" had fallen from her lips.

Buffy didn't have a very good track record with people leaving her. Or her leaving people. Merrick, her adoptive father, Pike, Angel, even Joyce-- they were all either dead, or had burnt the bridges so thoroughly between them as to pretty much accomplish the same thing. When the news had first come about Sam, she'd just known there had to be Someone up there laughing at her, gleefully destroying her last hope for anything like a normal life before it ever got off the ground.

She was very, very glad to have been proved wrong. But she wasn't sure she could take it if this was going to be a regular staple of her stay in Colorado. One scare could be the accident it sounded like-- if it became two or three, it would mean Sam had been lying.

They'd cross that bridge when they came to it, though. Tonight, she was going to just enjoy the view of the pyramids, ignore her wet feet, and--

"Beth?" Sam's voice sounded from the doorway, both hesitant and hopeful.

Buffy looked up from the couch where she'd decided to wait that evening and took in the exhausted lines of her birth mother's features, framed in the entryway. It was dark outside, and the yellow tones of the hall-light made Sam look even worse than she probably felt, but it was still enough to make Buffy bolt impulsively up off the couch and hug her.

"I'm so glad you're back," she said. "I thought-- They wouldn't tell me anything, and I--"

"I know," Sam said, hugging her back. "I was so worried about you the whole time I was gone. I only just got you back, and there I was, leaving you behind-- I felt so guilty--"

"It's okay," Buffy said, blinking fiercely as a few tears tried to surface. "Just-- just don't do it again, okay?"

Sam paused a long moment, long enough for Buffy to pull back and frown up into the taller woman's troubled blue gaze. "I can't guarantee that," she finally said, mouth drawn into unhappy lines.

Buffy tried to take a deep breath, but it felt as though a fist had squeezed around her heart. "I-- I understand," she said. "Your job is all national security important. I never should've--"

"No, that's not it," Sam said urgently, shaking her head. "It's just-- I thought this last mission was going to be a walk in the park, and we both know how well that turned out. They might need my skills out in the field again, and I can't refuse them if they ask. But-- I did speak to my boss about transferring off that team for non-emergency missions, and he agreed to consider it."

Buffy swallowed, absorbing that. She had lived up to her promise, then, after all. And the concessions-- it was like Buffy deciding not to Slay anymore, except for apocalypses, in which case of course she wasn't going to stick around and watch the world go to Hell.

She'd be a total hypocrite if she objected.

She'd be worse than that, though, if she let this opportunity go by without at least admitting that she had a few dangerous skeletons in her closet, too.

"Sam--" she began, then took a deep breath. "M-mom? There's something else we need to talk about, too."

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