Over the next several weeks Elizabeth worked at getting back into fighting trim, much to the dismay of her aunt. Still recovering from her illness, Elizabeth nonetheless put as much energy as she could spare into her swordplay. She started out with Gibbs first, who went easy on her. Then she took on Pintel-and-Ragetti both at once, disarmed Pintel immediately, and then their sparring devolved into a sword-tossing game like they'd had on Isla Cruces. Agatha watched that match, with her hand over her heart, and her mouth open in alarm as Elizabeth threw and caught swords, sparred, and laughed with the two disreputable pirates. After that, Agatha refused to watch any more sparring matches.

That was probably wise, as Teague offered to spar with Elizabeth after that The old captain might have been faster in his youth than he was now, but he was stronger than any other foe she'd ever faced. His blows were so powerful that even when she parried, they reverberated all the way up to her shoulder. She ended that session with her entire frame aching and throbbing from the strength in his attacks. Taking on Pintel and Ragetti together again the next day was like a holiday compared with fighting Teague by himself.

Jack came to watch, applauding when Elizabeth learned and used a new dirty trick. "Yes! Now that's how pirates fight!" he crowed when she took a fall, grabbed a fistful of sand, and threw it into Ragetti's remaining eye before she disarmed him. He approached, clapping, and told Ragetti to go see to his eye, if he would pardon the expression, and then asked Elizabeth, "All right, darling. You ready to take me on now?"

"Always!" she told him, showing her teeth.

He flashed a golden grin. "I'll keep that in mind for after we're finished sparring!" He drew his sword and then looked past her at something. His jaw dropped and he stepped back in surprise.

Elizabeth didn't move or look, but met his attack strongly when it came with no warning.

"Good girl," he said softly, and the match was on. She hadn't let him distract her the way he had done to Angelica on St. Dominique. He started at one-half power and speed, but sped up when he saw she could take it. He called encouragement and suggestions to her as they sparred. "Nice block. Higher next time. Good. Higher. Barely felt that, dearie. More power. Harder. Higher. Good."

After a respectable fight he drew first blood, a shallow cut on her shoulder, and that ended the match. She saluted him with her sword and a tired smile, and sheathed her sword. "Good match, Jack."

"Likewise, love. Keep that arm up higher next time, eh? You almost didn't block that one. Don't fancy running you through."

"I'll try."

"You'll do. Tomorrow I have to show you one of Angelica's tricks—you're finished for today."

Elizabeth, still panting hard, was forced to agree. "I am. My limbs feel like they're made of lead. Why did I have to fall ill just as she was coming after us?"

"If you hadn't, you'd have been there when she attacked Flimwell," Jack reminded her. "Don't worry about it. You'll do fine."

They went back to Teague's house, where Agatha gasped at the sight of Elizabeth's bloody shoulder, and was even more scandalized when she let Jack clean and bandage it for her.

Elizabeth laughed. "I hate to tell you this, Aunt Agatha, but he's seen more of me than this," she said, indicating her shoulder. She'd unbuttoned the shirt a little, to let it slide off her shoulder, and was holding it closed in front. "He did look after a nursing mother and child for over a week almost by himself, don't forget."

"Still, a lady doesn't speak of such things!" Agatha protested, blushing furiously at Elizabeth's talking about this right in front of Jack who was busily cleaning her shoulder cut.

"Aye, but a pirate accepts them as fact," Jack put in. "You'll forgive me for saying so, Auntie, but there is a big difference between eyeing up a pretty girl and patching up a comrade-in-arms."

"Thank you, Jack!" Elizabeth told him, obviously pleased with being called a comrade-in-arms.

"Any time, darling. Mind you," he said with a smirk, "I am an efficient sort of man who can do both at once."

"Ohhh, you—!" Elizabeth glared at him, and his smirk widened into a grin as he finished bandaging her up and pulling her shirt back up over it.

"There, now, you'll do. Remember to keep your arm up higher next time, and don't let me in, aye?"

"Aye. Thanks."

"Tomorrow, then? I won't go easy on you next time."

"That was going easy?" Elizabeth groaned. "In that case, I'd better get to bed."

She did so, and except for waking up to feed Jacob and to eat some supper herself, she slept straight through to the next morning.

Jack showed up a couple of hours after she woke, and sparred with her again. He showed her how to perform and counter Angelica's signature move, the one that had made him recognize her when she'd been impersonating him. "Just in case." They practiced it over and over, until it was on its way to becoming second nature to her.

"Wouldn't Will complain if he could see you now," Jack remarked idly during one of their breaks. "He's always such a one for fair play, he'd be properly horrified by your swordplay now."

Elizabeth said, "He's the one who taught me."

"How to duel, aye, but now you're learning how to fight. 'S a different thing. Winning a match doesn't really compare to surviving a fight, as far as motivations go."

"True. Of the two, I'd rather survive than play fair," she said thoughtfully.

"And that, ladies and gentlemen," Jack addressed their nonexistent audience, "is why Elizabeth Swann will always be a better pirate than that whelp she married."

He remembered that when she'd written him that apologetic note, she had crossed out the Turner and signed her name Elizabeth Swann. Captain Teague had taken to calling her "Captain Swann" or sometimes "Miss Swann" when her aunt was around (and when she wasn't, he was much less formal and just called her "Miss Liz"). Jack took a chance and called her "Swann" himself.

She didn't protest, as she would have done just a few weeks ago. She smiled a little sadly and nodded. "Or didn't marry, as it happens."

"As far as you are concerned, you were married."

She nodded. "But if I was married, then I'm still a widow now. So why am I Elizabeth Swann again? Shouldn't I still be Mrs Turner?"

"What, and you think 'Sparrow' is my surname by birth? We choose what we want to be called. That's one of the benefits of being a pirate."

"And you think I should choose Swann?"

"I think you have chosen Swann, darling."

Elizabeth was quiet for a long time, and then said quietly, "I think you may be right."

Jack smiled broadly. "'S just as well. You and me, love, we're birds of a feather." He threw his arm around her shoulder and pulled her into his side.

Elizabeth groaned at his pun on their names. "That's atrocious, Jack!" She put her arm around his waist. "So what is your surname by birth?"

Jack gave her a flirtatious, eyebrow-raised look. "Not telling."

"Oh, really?" she asked archly. "I bet I can find out."

"What do you bet?"

"What do you want?"

He reached up and stroked across her lips with a forefinger. "A kiss."

"What?"

"A kiss, Lizzie—a real kiss with no chains and no sea monsters. And no husbands."

"But Jack—!"

"Uh-uh. We're already friends, and you're not married anymore, so you should have no moral objections to it."

He leaned in closer. "I want to know what it tastes like," he reminded her in a low voice.

"Fine," she said, raising her chin stubbornly.

"Against…?" he asked.

She thought a moment. "One piece of your jewelry."

"Me jewelry?" He blinked in surprise.

"A ring, or a bead from your hair—anything I choose."

Jack took a moment to look at his rings, to run his fingers through his hair, and finger the strands of beads hanging from it before taking a deep breath and nodding.

"We have an accord, then?" Elizabeth used his favorite wheeling-and-dealing phrase.

"We do. What we need now is a time limit." Jack grinned. "Can't have you still trying to find out my name when we're both old and grey. And I'm going to want my kiss long before then, as well!"

"I'm not waiting that long for my jewelry, either! How about we say… until Barbossa gets here? Since you probably sing it to yourself while you dance around a bonfire, I don't imagine it will take that long to find out your name anyway. And then when he gets here, he'll say 'Jaaaaack, where's that pretty strand of beads you used to wear?' and you'll have to tell him you lost it to me." She wagged her head in a childish mocking gesture.

Jack broke into a deep chuckle. "Darling, you're the only person I've ever sung to while I danced around a bonfire, and me name's not Rumpelstiltskin, I promise.

"Anyway, it's more likely Barbossa'll say, 'Jaaaaack, who's the pretty lady kissin' you? Why, it looks almost like our noble king. 'Bout time she got around to it!' and then you'll have to tell him you lost it to—well, to Will, but that you saved some for old Jack as well."

Elizabeth gasped, scandalized. "Jack!" she cried in outrage, and shoved him, hard.

He stumbled away, laughing. "Oh, God, if you could see your face!" he wheezed. "Y'look like you're about to murder me all over again!"

"'S not far from the truth," she muttered, glaring at him. In another moment her lips twitched, and a moment later she had started to laugh ruefully. She followed him and shoved him again, whacking him several times about the arms and shoulders. "You're such a beast! Why do you say things like that to me? It's so improper!" she raised her voice, still laughing.

He raised his hands to half-heartedly fend off her blows, still chuckling. "'M sorry, love. It must be that look of shocked indignation on your face…! I simply can't resist. You just get prettier the angrier you get!"

Elizabeth rolled her eyes. "And you think that feeding me a line like that makes it all right to get me riled up just for your amusement?"

Jack shook his head. "It's not a line, darling. God's honest truth, I swear."

She narrowed her eyes and gave him a steely look. He replied with an innocent one, accompanied by a charming, golden-toothed smile.

Suddenly she smiled back, very sweetly. His smile faded in an instant. He knew that look.

"It's amazing how much you sounded like Barbossa just then," she told him. "Almost uncanny. Really. I never realized how like him you are. You could be twins!"

He glared at her. "Now, that was cruel an' uncalled-for, Miss Swann!"

Her smile broadened into a grin. "Yes, but you're not laughing anymore, are you?"

His lips twitched. "We'll see who's laughin' when it comes time to collect my winnin's, love."