John waits until Curtis and Rene are out of earshot before he speaks, just as Dinah meets his eyes.

"You waiting on a special apology?" he says quietly. "Because you deserve one."

She takes a step towards him. "No. I'm just waiting to make sure you're okay."

He raises his eyebrows. "Really?"

Somehow, Dinah seems to find it in her to smile ever so slightly. "Really."

"Well, I'm gonna give you one anyway," John says. "Dinah, I lied to you, and I'm sorry, but I'll make you one more promise - there'll be no more secrets between you and me."

Somewhere several yards away, they hear a faint beep as the elevator reaches the upper level, and John can't help but notice that Dinah is struggling to look him in the eye.

"No more secrets," she says faintly. "Right."

She turns away from him, makes to follow in Curtis and Rene's footsteps, and John watches her go, but then, unexpectedly, she swivels round on the spot to face him once more.

"Actually," she says, "since we're coming clean… there is one thing you should know."

But John shakes his head. "I think I know already."

And at this Dinah draws herself up to her full height, puts her hands on her hips. "Oh yeah?"

"I know you. Well enough to know that you didn't exactly look surprised when I said I was taking an illegal drug for the tremor."

For some reason, Dinah looks oddly relieved, and she quickly says, "Yeah, okay, fine. I knew."

"How?"

"I'm a cop," she says, exasperated. "You think I didn't realise it was maybe a little bit suspicious that your tremor just magically disappeared overnight? That soon after you told me?"

"Why didn't you say anything?"

Dinah shrugs. "It wasn't exactly my place to say. And I… I didn't know for sure. I didn't know the details. But I suspected a lot. I just - I guess I wanted to give you the benefit of the doubt because I know you're a good person."

"I'm not so sure of that," John says uneasily. Dinah raises her eyebrows in question and he can't bear to look at her when he speaks again. "I… when I told Lyla, she - she said I'm the most moral man she knows."

"She's right," she says, not even skipping a beat.

But when he can feel her burning gaze on him he's sure he's not going to surprise her with what he says next. "A moral man doesn't step out on his wife."

"Moral people aren't immune from making mistakes. You were hurting. You still are."

"That doesn't excuse what I did -"

"Hey, no, it's what we did," Dinah reminds him. "I hate to break it to you, John, but it kinda takes two to tango." At this, despite himself, John can't help but smile. Then she takes a step forward, lifts her hand to his cheek. "And I'm not saying that makes things any less wrong. Actually, I - I wanted to tell you that... it's okay, you know."

"What is?" he breathes.

She's close enough to him that he can feel her take a deep breath. "It's okay if you want to - call things off. Or even if you just... regret what's happened with us. You can say it. I promise," she says, "I won't take it personally."

"I told you you're a lousy liar, Dinah," John says.

He expects her to argue with him, but to his surprise, she doesn't. She just sighs, lets her hand fall to her side. "Maybe we shouldn't make promises we can't keep."

And he's not sure exactly why but he reaches down for her hand and puts it on his chest, right above his heartbeat. "I'll keep mine," he says, "whatever happens. If… if you still trust me."

"I do," she says without hesitation. "With my life."

For a second he's lost for words and he has to take a step back from her, so her hand is no longer on his chest. "Why?" he says eventually. "I mean, I lied to you. I -"

"You know why," Dinah interrupts. "I won't say it, because… because of a lot of things. But I'm sure you can figure it out."

It takes a moment to sink in, and of course, of course when it does he leans in, kisses her, because it's impossible not to when she's gazing up at him like that - like he's whole, like he's just a regular human being who for some reason she's fallen for, like what they have isn't tainted by secrets and lies and promises that weren't kept. He can tell too that she's taken aback, but it doesn't take long for her to wind her arms around John's neck and kiss him back.

Dinah is the one to pull away first, breathless, but John's hand quickly goes to the back of her neck and he leans his forehead against hers.

"What was that for?" she whispers.

"I - me too."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," John says softly. "I do. Dinah, I -"

But then Dinah silences him with a kiss and truthfully John's kind of glad, because really he isn't ready - he might never be. Only that is something he has to worry about later. Right here, right now, he knows exactly what he wants.

So when he feels her push off his jacket he can't help but revel in the soft hum of her moan as he moves away, extricates himself from her for a second so he can go to the workstation and press a button to put the bunker on lockdown. John turns around, sees she's moved to the sparring area, jacket off, waiting for him, patient as ever, and he makes his way back to her, grabbing her face and kissing her.

Using his good arm he lifts her off her feet, then lowers her onto the raised platform where they usually train. And they've been doing this for a while now, so John knows her cues, is accustomed to the sounds she makes when he nips at her ear while - making sure he doesn't have too much of his weight on her - his fingers slip into her pants. It takes a second because his hand shakes a little but then his fingertips become wet as they find their way into her panties and he groans needingly because he can smell her arousal and it intoxicates him - far more than any drug ever could.

Dinah reaches up, hand going to the back of his head, and she brings his mouth to hers, but it's not the searing kiss he expects. It's soft, so soft, and warm, and if he didn't know any better he would say that she is whispering the words she has forbidden him to say against his lips.

His fingers slide inside her, then, making her gasp and bite down on his lower lip, but just as suddenly John withdraws his hand. Shifting against him where he's sprawled half on top of her Dinah groans in protest. He tugs down her pants, taking her underwear down with them. He manages to get them down to her knees before he buries his face into the inside of her thigh, landing a kiss on warm skin and tasting sweat and smelling her sweet, sweet heat as he nudges his nose against her entrance.

John exhales softly, breath ghosting on sensitive flesh and making her jerk her hips uncontrollably upwards.

"Fuck, John..." As his tongue slips inside her, starts lapping up her essence, her hand scrabbles for his, and when she finds it their fingers interlock and she's squeezing almost too tight, but John doesn't care. Not when the noises that emanate from her throat are beautiful, so beautiful, that somewhere in the midst of his tongue encircling her clit he becomes aware, almost painfully so, of the hardness of his own arousal.

But Dinah comes first. She always has. And her other hand is on his jaw, now, thumb caressing his cheek, her touch soothing the slight ache that's started up - but he doesn't stop, not until her hips slacken and her grip on his hand loosens and her breaths come out just a little bit slower. John looks up, meets her eyes as she pushes her dishevelled hair out of the way.

And once she's kicked off the garments around her ankles and is making quick work of buttons and zippers and clothing Dinah climbs onto him, her hands slipping under his shirt to touch his chest. Then at last he's inside her, and he murmurs something about not being able to last very long and she just laughs, right as her walls clench around him and her laugh becomes a gasp.

And of course, when he does come, with her not quite there yet but still sensitive (so he knows he can definitely help her along in a minute) John can't help but mouth those illicit words back to her, pressing one more promise into the damp skin of her neck.