A/N: She only reveals what she wants you to see; she hides like a child but she's always a woman to me. (She's Always A Woman - Billy Joel)

DISCLAIMER: Dick Wolf owns SVU and its characters. TStabler© owns the narrative, dialogue, and plot of this story.

"There's nothing you can do?" Bernie Stabler eyed her son carefully, wringing her hands as she kept them in her lap. "Elliot, he is your brother, he needs your…"

"Half-brother," Elliot snapped, one hand in his left pocket, the other balled into a fist and knocking into the wall he'd been leaning against. "Even if...even if I could, Ma, if his DNA is a match to…" he swallowed hard and then cleared his throat. "I wouldn't help him out of this. A parking ticket, jaywalking, speeding...I wouldn't hesitate, but this? I won't just look the other way with this." He turned his head, his dry and red eyes looking pitifully at his mother. "I can't."

Bernie realized her son had either been crying or trying not to, and she sighed sadly. "How could this be, Elliot? I refuse to believe Kevin could have…"

"He's his father's son," Elliot said, a disdain in his voice that had never been so fully formed before that it frightened him. His eyes shot to the door; through the open blinds, he saw Olivia, a scowl on her face and a file in her hands. She was talking to someone on the phone, who was apparently saying all the wrong things, as she eyed Elliot's brother, Kevin, suspiciously as he sat in the chair beside her desk. Elliot licked his lips as he watched her move, the way she cradled the phone between her ear and her shoulder, the way she flipped through the pages of the file like they were her mortal enemy, the way she clicked the pen in her hand when she was thinking or extremely irritated.

"That's her, isn't it?" Bernie's voice broke into his thoughts. "That's Olivia?" She got off of the hard wooden chair and plopped her bag on the table before walking toward her son. She crossed her arms, tightening her cardigan around her, and she smiled. "Tell me about her."

The smile that instantly graces his lips couldn't be stopped, and he laughed lightly. "Wow, uh…" he didn't know where to begin, apparently. "She's brilliant, I mean it. She's so damn smart, Mom. Strong, in every sense of the word. I swear, she could take down a man three times her size, she's got some pretty killer moves and a whopper of a right hook, dead-aim with a gun and I'm pretty sure she could find her way around a bow and arrow if you asked her to do it. She's got more guts than any cop I know, and she's incredibly resilient. She's been through...so much, so fucking much, and she lets it make her more of a fighter than a victim." He bit the inside of his cheek. "She's selfless, ready to give you the shirt off her back even if it means she'll freeze to death, and she…" he started to say something, but realized that his mother needed to hear another thing entirely. He looked at Bernie. "She loves the kids, Ma. More than anything, like they were her own children. You have to see her with them, she helps them with their homework, reads to them, colors with them, plays with them. She really talks to them, and they...they really listen to her."

Bernie grinned almost proudly at her son, and she nodded, understanding. "Ah," she said, knowing. "She's nothing like Kathy."

Elliot grinned. "That's why I fell in love with her," he admitted. "Well, one of the reasons. There are about a million, so…" he shrugged and relaxed as he felt his mother's hand on his shoulder. He turned, then, and saw the look she was giving him. "I know that look. What?"

She shook her head with an upturned pout. "Nothing, I just…" she smoothed her hand down Elliot's arm and clicked her tongue as she rebuttoned his cuff. "You seem...different. Changed." She looked up and patted his hand as she said, "Is it because of her?"

Elliot squinted. "What do you mean, I'm different?" He pulled his hand out of his mother's, folding his arms and tilting his head. "What, you think because I'm with her, that makes me…she's younger, I get it, but I'm not my…"

"Elliot," Bernie spoke up, stopping him. "I didn't say it was a bad thing. I've noticed things. You call me more often, for one thing. You're happier, you've been spending more time home, with your children. You haven't had any of those episodes that would get your face in the papers."

"Episodes, Ma?" Elliot asked with a mischievous grin. He rolled his eyes, but he knew she was right. There weren't anymore violent outbursts and fights with perps that would blaze in the news. He licked his lips and nodded as he took a step toward the door and watched Olivia move again. She was off the phone and barking orders at people in front of the pin board. "You're right. I'm a little different. A lot. A lot different." He rubbed his forehead. "I can't explain it, but...yeah, I think it's her. She...calms me down, she lifts me up, she...she makes me feel things I haven't felt in so long...if ever." He looked over his shoulder at his mother, a much softer smile on his face. "She…"

"She found you," Bernie whispered, dropping back into her chair. "The parts of you that you promised yourself no one would ever see. The parts that you weren't sure people would like, or the parts that you weren't too fond of yourself." She folded her hands and sighed again, maternal worry falling on her shoulders. "Things that would embarrass you, or make you vulnerable. I did the same thing, for so long. Hid myself away, suppressed the real me with medication and ruse." She flattened her smile. "It wasn't until I'd lost everything...my job, my husband, my children and grandchildren...that I decided to be who I am, and look! I got you all back."

Elliot looked upward, a glum and grim expression on his face, and he whispered, "Not all of us."

"Your father had his own demons," she told him, knowing what he was thinking. "His indiscretions got the best of us, at one point or another. Your brother is…"

"Half-brother," he corrected again, more acidic guilt on his tongue this time.

"Brother," Bernie counter-affirmed, leaning toward him. "Family doesn't come in halves or quarters, Elliot. And Kevin was a surprise, certainly, but he came into our lives when your father was already out of them. In a way, it let us keep a part of him…"

"The lying, cheating, manipulative part," Elliot snapped. "And you have the nerve to come here and beg me to show him some kind of nepotism? Mom, when dad died...the twins weren't even born yet, and God, I had to explain why he was never waking up to the girls, and then this kid who looks exactly like a younger version of me walks into that funeral parlor, tells our entire family that he's Joe Stabler's kid…"

"I was there, I remember," Bernie said to him. "He could have chosen a better time, I admit."

Elliot chuckled and then shook his head and let out a heavy breath. He looked down, picking lint off of his blue button-down, chuckling at how it was the same color as Olivia's. He'd changed in the locker room, yet they still matched. He looked up, then, at his mother. "Mom, I need to tell you something. Uh, well, me and Liv…"

A light knock on the door stopped him from speaking. His head, and Bernie's, snapped toward it as it opened and when Olivia's head poked into the small interview room, they both smiled.

"Am I interrupting?" Her voice was quiet, cautious. A stark contrast to how forceful and strong it had obviously been out in the squadroom.

"No," Elliot said, his tone matching hers. He waved her into the room and signaled for her to close the door. He smiled at her as she drew closer and he looped an arm around her, taking advantage of their moment alone, away from anyone who'd think the wrong things. Or the right ones. "Liv, this is...my mother," he said, gesturing to Bernie. "Bernadette Stabler." He looked over and said, "Mom, this is my...Olivia."

Olivia smiled brightly and held out her hand for a friendly shake, but was taken aback when Bernie stood fast and hugged her. "Oh," Olivia gasped softly with wide eyes, but she quickly gave in and hugged back, her eyes closing. "Wonderful to meet you, really. Your son…"

"Loves you," Bernie said, knowing it wasn't what Olivia was going to say but that it held as much merit. She chuckled, pulling away. "I know. So what did you come in here to tell us? I'm sure it wasn't just to meet me and give my son a glimpse of that pretty face of yours."

Olivia blushed, tucked a bit of hair behind her ear, and cleared her throat. "Well, we, uh...there's a development in the case. I've got good news and bad news." She looked from Bernie to Elliot and back again. "You're definitely related," she commented, noting the identical expectancy on their faces. "So Warner called, and then Ryan called. The prints on the broken beer bottle were definitely Kevin's." She heard Elliot curse and Bernie gasp, but she calmly held up both hands. "Relax, with a little more digging and threatening, Kevin told me he works part-time at the same liquor store the bar usually gets their beer from, which is circumstantial at best, but it explains why…" she waved a hand. "The good news is Warner confirmed the DNA we found on the vic isn't a match to him. He's not going down for this."

Elliot gave an audible relieved sigh and dropped his head against hers. "Whew. Wow. I feel...better now, oddly enough. Okay, uh, so what's the bad news?"

"Bad news is you gotta kiss Momma Stabler goodbye," she whispered to him, picking lint he had missed off of his shirt and flicking it away. "We gotta go bag the bastard that actually raped and killed…"

His kiss cut her off, but it was soft, chaste. Either because his mother was in the room or because they were technically at work, but the occasion simply called for soft. "Okay," he breathed, nodding. "Sorry to cut things short, Ma," he said as he bent over and kissed his mother on the cheek. He hugged her tightly and told her someone in the unit would drive her home, and then he righted himself with a hard exhalation. He turned, watching Olivia open the door to lead him out into the squadroom, and he decided then and there, as soon as they put the case behind them, he'd find all of the parts of her that were still squirreled away, beneath layers of carefully placed facade.

He also needed to find the last part of himself that was still missing, and he knew exactly where it was hiding.

With her.

A/N: A moment with the kids and a moment alone! Next.