Brian froze for a moment, dumbstruck, and then he turned toward Liv. His eyes focused on the empty wine glass that stood upright on the end table. Drippings of red wine still lingered in the bottom of the glass. It was from last night, before the thought the possibility of pregnancy even crossed her mind. Her stomach tightened. It was true. She had been drinking more than before lately. She felt sick just thinking about how much liquor had entered her system over the last few weeks since her promotion. She was, without a doubt, under more stress than she was used to. Being in charge of her unit was certainly panning out to be more difficult than she had planned it would be.

Olivia Benson had never set out to be in charge. Some people became police officers with the outright goal to become police commissioner. Some people were born with that drive to be on top. To be in charge. That wasn't Olivia. She became a police officer because she wanted to help victims, like her mother. She wanted to seek justice for the victims. Her entire life mission was about getting the criminals off the streets so fewer women would have to go through what her mother had. So fewer women and men would become victims of violent crimes. It wasn't about being the best detective for her. All that mattered was making a difference. Helping someone in need.

Every time she captured a rapist, she felt a surge of adrenaline. There was no better feeling in the world than knowing you'd taken a creep off the streets. It was a high comparable to no other.

She didn't want to be sergeant. She didn't want to be in charge. But she'd been a detective for twenty years. And she was a damn good detective, too. She didn't consider herself to be an arrogant person. Nor did she think she was better than everyone else. Hell, she knew there were better detectives than her out there somewhere. However, she did know she was good. She wasn't the type of person who bragged about it, though.

For two years she'd listened to everyone and their brother ask her when she was going to go to the next level. She'd told them she wasn't ready. She was happy with simply being an SVU detective. She'd done it for over fifteen years. It was what she knew how to do best, and she would be content doing it for the rest of her life.

Then word of Sergeant Munch's retirement got out. And then Cragen's. The two men she'd considered her mentors were leaving. The last of the squad that had been with Special Victims in 1999 when she first started working at SVU were leaving her behind. It was a lot to take in for her. After all, it seemed just like yesterday that she was the new kid on the block. Now she was the veteran.

Per her captain's request, she took the sergeant's exam and passed with flying colors. Now she was in charge of the Special Victims Unit. The unit was her unit. Her baby.

Her baby.

She was married to her job and her detectives were her children. They were her responsibility now. If they screwed up, it reflected badly on her. She had to have her eyes and ears not only on the victims, but now she had to have them on her whole squad too.

Letting go was hard. Telling her detectives what to do and sitting back wasn't easy. She was supposed to be able to tell them where to go and be able to sit back. It wasn't that easy. She liked to be front and center. She was used to having personal relationships with the victims, and talking to them first-hand. The idea of sitting back and watching others do the job she'd done for years was proving to be more difficult than she'd expected.

She didn't know how Cragen had done it for so long. But one thing was for certain. She understood why he had turned to alcohol.

Brian locked eyes with her. "Liv, what's going on? You always have an extra bottle of wine in the refrigerator."

Olivia swallowed, trying to find the right words to say. She came up blank.

"We're not out of alcohol, are we? Did you drink it all? Liv, gosh, I know you've been drinking a lot lately, but are you sure it's not getting out of hand?"

"Are you implying I'm an alcoholic?" Olivia spat. Her heart sank. "No, Brian. I'm not. And, actually, that's what I wanted to talk to you about, but why don't you tell me what you want to talk to me about first?"

Brian sighed, taking a Pepsi from the refrigerator. He took a seat next to Liv on the couch.

"I just don't want anything to happen to you is all, Liv. And Tucker's already down my throat. If he finds out you're an alcoholic and I knew and didn't say anything…"

"Of course it's all about your loverboy Tucker," Olivia rolled her eyes.

"That's disgusting," Brian replied flatly, making a face.

"Why is Tucker down your throat?" Olivia asked.

"See, that's what I need to talk to you about," Brian sighed. "I haven't been completely honest with you lately, and I think it's time you know the truth. I haven't been undercover this past week. In fact, I haven't been undercover at all the past few times I've told you I was."

"Brian, if you're having an affair…"

"What?" Brian spat, choking on the soda he'd just sipped. He coughed a few times and gasped. "Liv, I'm not having an affair. I would never cheat on you."

"Oh, well, that's good to know," Olivia replied, releasing a sigh of relief. She had prepared herself for the worst, though she hoped for the best. If Brian hadn't been undercover, then where the hell had he been? She hated liars. She hated that Brian had been lying to her. She just hoped that he had a damn good reason for lying to her. Her blood started to boil. The father of her unborn child had been lying to her about his whereabouts. She had a right to be pissed. She clenched her fists together tightly and inhaled a deep breath.

"I'm not cheating," Brian said again as he reached into his pocket and pulled his wallet out. He opened it and pulled out a wallet-sized photo. He handed the picture to Olivia, and she studied the photo. It was a colored photo of a little boy. He was wearing a black T-shirt. He had brown eyes and had a head full of messy brown hair. His skin was pale, and his pale pink lips were pressed together to form a smile. She turned the photo over and saw someone had handwritten in neatly in black pen. Cooper, third grade, fall 2013. The handwriting was clearly not Brian's, because it was too neat. The handwriting looked female. She imagined that a woman had written it.

"Bri, who is this?" Liv asked hoarsely.

"He's my son," Brian answered.

A/N: I forgot how awesome SVU reviewers are. :) Thanks to everyone who's reviewed! I'm going to try to update as often as possible. I know I have a horrible track record for not updating, but I do know where this is going.