John enters his apartment, exhausted, and drops his bag on the floor as soon as he walks in. He can smell tea brewing and hear the faint whistle of the kettle, and sure enough, when he walks into the kitchen he finds Lyla there.

"Hey," he says softly, unsure whether to kiss her in greeting or not. They haven't really had a moment alone together, not since before the siege happened, and now it's all over he's not sure what to say or do.

Thankfully she makes the decision for him, kissing his cheek.

"How are you?" she asks. "And Oliver, Felicity?"

"They're fine. I'm fine."

John tries to smile, but the tension in the air is thick enough to cut with a knife.

"I'm glad," Lyla says faintly.

"What about you, you still employed?"

"By the skin of my teeth," she says grimly. "And I said I'd work for as long as I possibly can, which…" She trails off, though, as if realising she's talking about her pregnancy, and instead after a moment she says, "Do you… want some tea?"

"Sure," John says, nodding. He heads to the living room and a minute later Lyla's bearing two steaming mugs of tea, which she places on the living room table.

"So… I figured we should talk." Lyla sits down next to him, but just far enough away so she's not touching him.

"That would probably be a good idea."

"Look, I know what you're going to say," she begins, and John raises his eyebrows, sipping his tea.

"You do?"

"Yeah. That I shouldn't have kept something like this from you, because it was your right to know as the father, and -"

"Lyla, that's not it," John interrupts.

"It's not?"

"I… wish you hadn't kept it from me. Not because I had a right to know. It's your body, not mine."

"I think you'll find yours did at least some of the work," Lyla says lightly, and John laughs.

"You know what I mean."

"Yeah." Lyla drinks her tea, then sets down her mug on the table.

"I just… hate that I had to find out from Amanda Waller, of all people," John admits. "And I wish you hadn't kept it from me so I could have… helped."

"You couldn't have helped, Johnny." Immediately Lyla winces, as though that came out harsher than she thought. "I just mean - what could you have done?"

"I could have been there for you," he says. "Just like I will be from this moment on."

"Y-you mean that?" Lyla meets his eyes and it's only now that John can see that they're shimmering with emotion. John covers her hand with his, squeezes it, then brings it to his lips so he can kiss her knuckles.

"Of course I do," John breathes. "What, you thought I was just going to leave you because there's a baby?"

"I just can't help but think - about when we first came back to America."

"You mean when you miscarried," John says slowly. Lyla's gaze drops to her lap, and John cradles her face with his hands, so her eyes are level with his once more. "Hey. It's okay."

"I don't want that to happen again," Lyla says, and it's like a dam in her has burst because the tears are streaming down her face now. "I don't want to do that to you again. Get your hopes up, and have it all be for nothing."

"Lyla, please," he whispers. "Don't. This is not about me. It's about you and this baby. And if God forbid something happens then… we will deal with it. Together."

"That's why I didn't tell you. That's the real reason. I… was scared. Of getting your hopes up again, and then something awful happening and…"

"I get it," John says softly. "And it's okay."

"Really?"

"Really. I love you. That part has never changed, not in five years. Except now…" Tentatively, John reaches out, touches her abdomen. "...now there's a new part of you that I love just as much. And no matter what happens that's not going to change."

"You promise?" Lyla murmurs.

"Cross my heart," John says. "I'm here to stay, you hear me? I'm not going anywhere."

"I love you," she says softly.

She kisses him, then, arms going around his neck, and for a second she takes him by surprise but then he kisses her back, coaxing open her mouth with his tongue. He can taste tears as he undoes the buttons of her shirt and Lyla helps, untucking her shirt from her skirt so she can take it off, revealing her bra underneath. Her stomach is still flat, but just knowing that a tiny life is growing inside her by the second is enough to make John's heart soar, just like the watery smile on Lyla's face. They get to their feet, Lyla leading John by the hand to his bedroom.

"You're beautiful," he tells her on impulse, and she visibly flushes as she stops to kiss him again.

"You… are not so bad yourself," she replies after a moment. "Our daughter's got some good genes in her."

But at this John stops in his tracks.

"It's a girl?"

"Yeah," Lyla says, and her smile is even wider now. "We're having a baby girl, Johnny."

And somehow all that does is make it more real for John as he wipes Lyla's tears away and kisses her, not stopping until they reach their room. She goes in first, lying back on the bed, kicking off her shoes. Her skirt is next, and it lands unceremoniously on the floor next to John's feet.

John kneels, then, and pulls down her panties, stifling a groan when he sees how wet they are. His hand goes up between her legs, fingers brushing oh so lightly against her centre. First, though, he can't help but press a kiss on her abdomen, then another, then another, down her belly, her hip and then the inside of her thigh, showering every inch of her that he can with kisses, murmuring the words I love you into her skin.

"Johnny…"

His tongue darts out, tasting the hot sweet wetness of her centre, going around in circles, the way he knows she likes, lapping up her essence. When he finds her swollen clitoris he can feel its gentle throb against his mouth, and Lyla arches into him, thrusting her hips against his lips, crying out, but John doesn't stop, not until the last remnants of her pleasure echo around the room and her hands go just underneath his damp jaw, caressing the warm stubble and whispering his name.

She pulls him up so her face is level with his, tugging at the hem of his t-shirt and taking it off. Then she flips them round, so she's on top of him, now, as she pulls down his remaining garments and shoes. He's hard for her, has been from about the moment he first felt the dampness of her panties, and when she palms his length he groans and wonders if he's going to come right there.

He exhales softly, and then, without warning, Lyla ducks her head and, still with her hand wrapped around his length, closes her mouth around him. John groans again, revelling in the wonderful feeling of Lyla's tongue flicking against his cock, and just when he feels like he's going to blow his load she withdraws, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

Then she climbs on top of him, and he tries to sit up to kiss her but she pushes at his chest, so he's lying on his back beneath her, and then she sinks onto him. He slides into her easily, filling her right to the hilt, and she buries her face into his neck, rocking her hips against his and groaning softly into his mouth when John grips the backs of her thighs and kisses her.

When she comes this time the sound of it is muffled into his chest where she's buried her face, and seconds later John comes too, spilling inside her, eyes closed in concentration. When he opens his eyes again Lyla's rolled off him, and he sighs contentedly as he reaches over to kiss her.

"God, I love you," he murmurs against her lips. He places his hand on her abdomen, and for one wild second he wonders if he felt the baby - their daughter - kick. "I love all of you."