Jack couldn't decide which was the best part about arguing with Elizabeth; To see the feisty woman in proverbial flames, which was a sight to behold; the making up, the sudden softness of the King, there, all for him, or perhaps it was the skill Jack had only recently required; to forgive and forget.
No grudges was a novelty as his reason to live had been based on it alone, but now he had something pretty, precious, something he didn't lose because of something Mr. Gibbs described as 'Lover's spat'.
Said spat may or may not sometimes find itself into their quarters, but it was easily pacified with a few choice words, which, much to Jacks surprise, he meant every one of.
His light touch, until the need grew, the need to blow away the storm, to make sure they were in this together, no matter what the gods threw their way.
Entwined, they could forget about the world around them, live that moment only for each other, words that hurt forgotten and changing into sigh and vows, endearments and dreams.
In the end, the answer was clear as day; Simple; It was all about Elizabeth. Every bit of her.