23 Not a Couple II

Next day

It was 10 AM when Sam woke up in Levi's bed, a blue blanket over her. Her eyes scanned his bedroom for a moment, it was a simple averaged sized room nothing more than ordinary. A wardrobe and a bedside table were the only furniture that was there with the bed. His room was tidy, which was surprising considering the usual state of his kitchen and parlor with papers and books laying around. She reckons his flat would look like a dump if Mrs. Whitehall wasn't literally taking care of his overgrown ass. But then again, she would be a hypocrite if she claimed she was any better. She had a cleaning lady as well, visiting her place 3 times a week. But her place was nothing like his, it was far from ordinary. Her flat was in a way like Pentonville prison, and she was under constant monitoring.

Minutes later she stretched in bed, then swung her legs off. She got up and walked towards the door.

"Good morning Mrs. Whitehall," Sam said, stepping out of the bedroom.

"Dear, you're finally awake. I was worried you went into a coma." Mrs. Whitehall joked from Levi's kitchen, washing the dishes.

"How are you today?" Sam asked

"I'm fine dear. But, how are you? It seems like you had a tough week." The older woman said, noting the redhead's tired eyes. This caused Sam to laugh, "I was really busy." she lied through her teeth; the truth was she had trouble sleeping, memories haunting her.

Sam made her way towards the sofa in the living room.

"Seems like they're back." Mrs. Whitehall said, hearing the front door open and close, "how about tea, dear?" She added, "Tea would be great, thank you, Mrs. Whitehall."

Just as Levi opened the door, Mrs. Whitehall walked out. Levi unlatched the leash off Mo's collar and the dog walked towards his master on the sofa. "Hey, bud. Did you enjoy your walk? Good to know." Sam said, patting his head.

"Sorry, about passing out," Sam told Levi. "Elle called this morning, asked me to tell you your belongings are in your place." He responded. "Ah, yeah. I kinda ditched her." Sam said, starting to collect Mozart's things in his flat. Levi watched sadness underneath his hazel eyes, he felt attached with the dog truth be told. Growing up they weren't allowed to have pets in the house, but then again, he wouldn't want innocent animals living in that hell hole, Levi thought darkly. For a moment flashes of his childhood came to mind and he pushed it down.

Sam saw the sadness that laid behind his eyes. "I'll take him with me during Game Night." She said, earning a nod of approval from the suited blond.

After collecting all of Mo's belongings, and finishing her tea, Sam made her way towards the psychologist who was seated at his table with his laptop working on a book he was writing, titled 'Art to criminal Profiling' and pecked his cheek before stepping out of his flat. Levi vacated his seat soon after and stood by his window, watching the redhead get on a cab.

"They'll be back before you know it." Mrs. Whitehall said, watching Levi standing there as she started tidying up his flat.

It was two days later when Sam was walking along outside Knightbridge when a familiar voice called her name from the crowd.

"Sam!"

She saw Marco jogging towards her when she turned, and she smiled at him. "Hi, Marco. How's the family doing?" Sam asked. The tall man smiled from ear to ear, happy she remembered Lisa and Liz.

"We are doing great, Liz has been a little chatterbox lately, but it was to be expected. Do you have time for coffee?" Marco said, earning a shrug from Sam. "I can make time." She replied nonchalantly, and Marco took her to a near coffee shop.

"Where were you heading?" Marco asked after making their order to the waiter. "I was on my way to a friend," Sam replied, earning a curious look from Marco. "Levi?" he asked. "Ah, no. Martin, he's a forensic toxicologist. I was researching a case. If it was Levi, I would have said Levi, Marco, since you know him." Sam explained, slightly amused.

"Oh, of course." "How about you?" Sam asked, "I was actually about to get the grocery. But...I saw you and decided to have coffee before, and I've been meaning to talk to you alone." Marco admitted, and Sam looked intrigued.

"You and Levi..." He started, earning a grin from Sam, she knew what he was about to say.

"Are you two really not dating?" Marco added as Sam predicted.

"No, we're not," Sam answered, and it was honestly not what he was expecting, he was hoping they were just denying it. "Why?" She asked, noticing the disappointment on his face.

"Oh, I just, I mean...everyone thinks you're dating. Since you've been spending so much time together." Marco explained, earning a baffled look from Sam.

"I mean, you two seem happy together, and Levi, I've never seen him so relaxed before he met you." He added, and Sam frowned more. "No offense though, Levi can be a lot of things, rude, sarcastic, insensitive...but he's a good guy. " Marco continued to dig his own grave.

"Marco, calm down. I never said he was a bad guy." Sam said giggling. "Yes, yes, I know. I'm just--" "You want him to be in a relationship with a woman." Sam finished for him, "Well, just be with someone, I don't care if he decides to swing for the other team to be honest." Marco said, nodding. And the two laughed at the thought.

"I get that. You are after all his best friend, and you want him to be happy. But...does he need to be in a romantic relationship to be happy? I mean...it's Levi Jackson we're talking about." Sam tried to make a point.

"Don't you want to be---with him?" Marco asked, curious. Sam smiled sadly, "I like him, I truly do. But not in the way I think you think I do. Like, you like Lisa. Do you get what I mean?"

"So, you don't romantically like him?" Marco said, deflated.

"Not that I know of." She replied honestly, earning a baffled look from Marco. "I don't date." She confessed and he scowled in disbelief, she laughed in reply.

"I mean, look at me...I am clearly married to my job." She said, earning a nod from Marco, she was one of the most dedicated workers he'd ever met. And her still managing some sort of social life was incredible.

"To put it simply, Marco, I don't think I'm relationship material. At least not in that level of commitment."

"So you don't want to date?"

"Not that I don't. It would just be unfair to whoever that person would be...to not make them a priority. I don't think anyone deserves that, to be in second place." Sam said. "But you kiss him, on the cheek, every time." Marco suddenly remembered. He had seen her numerous times kiss him goodbye and hello, and oddly enough the criminal psychologist had never minded. They shared a level of comfort and trust that even he had not achieved after more than 10years of friendship with Levi. Sam was the only one he knew that could induce the softer side of Levi.

"I consider him a really good friend, and I'm part Italian." She says, "You don't kiss me." Marco tried to make a point.

"You are a married man."

"Davies is a friend."

"I've been acquainted with him, not more than two times in an unprofessional setting," Sam interjected.

And Marco felt deflated. "But you two looked so happy together." He said, and Sam nodded in agreement. They are happy, she was happy. Levi was the only one who could keep up with her. She didn't have to water down her explanations, her findings, or use simple words as she does with others. She didn't even have to talk at times, and the criminal psychologist would get what she was trying to say. And she reckons to him, her him her mind was something special too

"But, do two people need to be a couple to be happy together?" She asked, finishing her cup of coffee. "Think about it." And Sam left him there, typing on her phone as she exited the coffee shop.

Sam walked a couple of blocks away from the coffee shop, and a black Rolls Royce picked her up.

"Miss Fredricksen." The familiar man in the back seat greeted. He had graying dark colored hair and soft fatherly eyes, but in his jaw, there was a hint of sternness to them.

"Mr. Riley, sorry for the long wait. I had to talk to a friend." Sam says getting in the car.

"It's alright, Miss. To the Estate?" He asked, and she nodded in response. Half an hour later, she arrived in the familiar extravagant Mansion. She stepped out of the car and proceeded to the elegant wooden double doors.

"Grandma?" She called as she entered the study after going through a long hallway.

"You are late, and don't call me Grandma." The older woman with gray hair in an elegant updo and wearing an ornate royal blue dress spoke, while seated behind a wide mahogany table.

"You called late; I was busy. And you're my Grandmother." Sam sassed, and the older woman glared at her, a glare most people would shrink in fear. But not Sam, she merely shrugged in response.

"What did you call me for?" She asked, wanting their little meeting over with. "Can you at least act cultured?" Her grandmother chided.

"What's the point of pretending to you, when we both know I'm not. Let's keep the Act somewhere else, please." Sam said.

"So, unlike your mother." The older woman commented, and Sam rolled her eyes. "I'll take that as a compliment," Sam says, after all, her mother is dead.

The older woman handed her a pair of Invitations, and she read it, it was for a Party. Sam cringed immediately. "You called for me for this? You could have just mailed it." Sam said, annoyed that she wasted her time.

"You would have ignored it."

"I'm still ignoring it, grandma," Sam stated, putting the ticket in her pocket and taking her Leave. "You are a Fredricksen! You will attend that Party!" The older woman insisted, vacating her seat. "You have relatives, get them to attend, I have real work you know."

"Real work! Cutting corpses! You are wasting your talents in that field! You could have 1000 times more if you would just use that genius brain of yours for the Business."

"I get to provide real justice for those corpses, grandmother dear. Something your business and money couldn't buy for your one and only daughter and son-in-law." Sam sneered at her least favorite grandmother, Beatrice, her mother's mother. The complete opposite of her father's mother, Monica the one who raised her with love in America. The one who supported her every choice cheered her on and baked her donuts and cookies.

Sam's statement left the older woman in shame, but she refused to show it. She knew Samantha, hated her for it, her most gifted grandchild did everything she didn't want just to spite her. Like calling her 'grandma', which she hated. Like, taking Medicine instead of Business. Never using their family name, as if ashamed, instead, she changed it to Gray.