For her birthday he gave her a cello and bow, unwrapped, unadorned.
She stared at it, mouth agape, tears threatening. How had he known?
The card read, "There is geometry in the humming of the strings. There is music in the spacing of the spheres. - Pythagoras"
Seeing the white streak in his hair, she knew the answer. Fifty years aboard the Odyssey. He knew her well. Better, perhaps, than she knew herself.
"Oh, Teal'c," she breathed, hugging him closely. "Thank you."
He smiled sadly, "You are welcome, Colonel Carter."
Looking in his eyes, she saw the echo of harmonies lost.
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