A/N: Tim's love life hits a snag when he has to attend the cotillion, the dance where society's teens are now eligible to date. Not only that, when he is sent to Europe to meet with Wayne Enterprise business partners to gain support for his Wayne Foundation Neon Knights Project, Tim is presumed dead when the plane he was on suddenly explodes and nose dives into the Atlantic Ocean.

Red Robin Rising

by

AJRed Robin and JasonToddLover

Part 10: Slander, Slapstick, and Suitability

The day of the garden party and cotillion dawned clear and warm. The ballroom and it's walled in garden area was all ready for it's young guests. The adults would be able to spend their time in the greenhouse and rose garden. And right now, there was a very nervous young man staring at himself in the mirror. Tim was nervous. He really didn't want to participate, but the more he thought about it, the more people would wonder. The gossip columnists were already wondering who was the young lady that was staying at Wayne Manor. Somehow they had found out. A few deduced she had been there now for a few months and had been seen in the company of the Wayne boys along with their girlfriends. It was also no big secret that Jason Todd-Wayne had secretly married Sasha Mills. The tabloids found out that she had been one of Professor Pyg's prisoners and there was speculation on how they met. There were some mean spirited writers that made her out to be a gold digger and a willing participant of Pyg's experiments. They even wondered if she wasn't all there.

Everyone tried to ignore that talk and tried to concentrate on the day. The paparazzi had gathered outside of the gates of Wayne Manor hoping to get some pictures and to gather some juicy tidbits for the tabloids with whom they earned their daily bread.

"Are we going to be letting them in?" Damian questioned as he looked out of a second story window. He was hoping they would get some shots of Drake falling on his face.

"Not if we can help it," Bruce stated.

"Master Bruce, the first vehicles are arriving."

"Open the gates just wide enough to allow the vehicles through," Bruce said. "We'll deal with the paparazzi later."

The gates were set to automatically open when the security cameras picked up the license plate number and cross-referenced it with the guest list. A constant flow of vehicles entered when the first one came through the gates. There were a total of twenty vehicles in all, each carrying anywhere from three to six guests, both girls and boys with their parents. Alfred stood at the door to check the invitations and to let in the guests. All were directed to the ballroom in the east wing.

Bruce looked up to see his third son coming into view and slowly walking down the stairs to stand beside him. "Nervous?" Bruce put a hand on Tim's shoulder as he watched the parade of young people and their parents.

"Do I really have to do this?" Tim asked for the umpteenth time.

"It's too late to back out now, and yes."

Tim sighed, resigned to his fate. He wished Samantha was already by his side walking down those stairs, but she had to make her own entrance. They could not appear to be together. Even so, he'd feel a lot more comfortable, and even safer. Right now, it was as if he could feel every girls' eyes were on him. Though there were several young men in the crowd, that didn't seem to matter. He felt like the girls were eyeing him, not because he was eligible, but because of his wealth, and he had two fortunes. Even if the girls' fathers were rich, they would want to add his fortune with theirs. It was more of a power move and a lot of these relationships ended up being more like marriages of convenience than actually marriages from true love.

"Uh hum." Someone cleared their throat. Tim was startled out of his thoughts.

"Bruce, good to see you."

"Joshua Goodfellow," Bruce shook the man's hand. "I haven't seen you at the club lately."

"I've been in Europe. Been spending a lot of time traveling since my wife died. I'd like to introduce my daughter, Elizabeth. She's been away at boarding school. I've been thinking about enrolling her at Gotham Academy here in the states. I need what's left of my family close to me."

"Elizabeth," Bruce shook her hand. "My third son Timothy. Actually, he just graduated from Gotham Academy."

"He's a little young to graduate, isn't he?" asked Joshua Goodfellow.

"Actually, Timothy has been a straight A student and carrying a GPA average of 6.0 . . . "

"6.0, isn't that college level?"

"Why, yes it is," Bruce said proudly.

"That sounds wonderful," Elizabeth said as she grabbed Timothy by the arm, pulling him away from the stairs, and from the receiving line. "Let's go dance then you can sit with me at my table for the dinner."

Elizabeth continued to pull on Tim's arm. She briefly looked up to see a beautiful dark haired, coppery skinned girl waiting at the landing at the top of the stairs. She gave the girl a smirk. To her, she looked like one of the peasant girls her father had recently wooed to bed.

'What was one of those girls doing at an event like this?' Elizabeth thought. 'Surely Timothy would not be interested in her kind. And why is she dressed like that? She should be in the kitchen.'

Samantha frowned as she saw Tim being pulled off by some blond haired girl. She followed discreetly behind, brushing Bruce off as he tried to introduce her.

"My apologizes," he stated. "That is Samantha Clark, my ward."

Some of the adults present gave knowing glances as if to say, oh great another one. While others were curious as to who she really was and where she came from. There were several other teens giving Samantha odd stares as she followed the crowd. Only one or two greeted her warmly. One boy tried to approach her, but she gently brushed him off. Her eyes were on Timothy only. She wanted to know what that blond girl was up to.

All the young people stepped into the ballroom, which had been decorated for the evening. Several tables had been set up on one side still allowing room to dance. The buffet tables were set outside in the closed-in garden terrace.

"I'll get us a table," Elizabeth cooed. "You can grab us something to eat. Don't be long."

"That Elizabeth," Susan Westwood stated as Samantha approached from behind. "She always pushes in and gets what she wants. I didn't even get a chance to say hello."

"How do you know?" another girl stated.

"I went to school with her in Europe. She was the same way. Just you wait, she won't let anyone near that boy."

"But I want to meet Tim," a fourth whined. "I heard he's really nice."

The girls in conversation noticed several boys surrounded Samantha.

"Who's that girl who came down the stairs?" the third girl questioned.

"I've never seen her before," Susan stated.

"She's beautiful. She could give Elizabeth a run for her money."

"Yes, and she's attracting all the guy's attention."

"We'll have to do something about that. If I can't meet Tim, I at least want to meet someone."

Tim went out to the terrace to grab a plate of food. He had no choice but to be polite to this girl. He didn't even get a chance to see Sammie in her new dress. He took his time choosing the food. Then he spied Sammie out of the corner of his eye. Several young men surrounded her. They wanted her to dance. She was trying to brush them off as gently as she could. She kept looking in Tim's direction. Tim gave her a quick little smile.

"Timothy, the food," Elizabeth stated hotly.

"Of course, coming," Tim took the small plate and sat it down by Elizabeth.

"You expect me to eat this without a fork?"

"It's finger food," Tim said, stating the obvious.

"Feed me then," Elizabeth said, batting her eyes.

Tim picked up a piece of cheese and brought it to her mouth. 'This girl is so demanding,' he thought. 'She's acting like she's helpless.'

"Get me something to drink. Why didn't you think of that?"

Tim headed back to the buffet tables and headed to the punch bowl. He was filling a cup with punch when he looked up to see Samantha standing there. He got an eyeful of what she was wearing. Her hair was pulled back with a ring of flowers that matched her gown perfectly. She was also wearing her mother's ruby necklace.

"Is that for me?" Samantha asked in that soft lilting voice that drew Tim into her presence. It was the same kind of voice she used when they first met.

"Um . . ." Tim just stood there staring for a few minutes then Sammie took the cup of punch from his hand and took a sip. Tim was about to draw closer to Sammie when he heard the shrill voice of Elizabeth.

"Timothy, my drink!"

Tim gave Sammie a pleading look. "I have to go." Tim didn't really want to budge. Sammie looked so beautiful, like a princess.

"Timothy, stop staring at that bitch and bring me my drink."

"Excuse me," Samantha questioned. "What did you call me?"

"You heard me, keep away from my boyfriend."

"Timmy is not your boyfriend," Samantha stated.

"Oh yes he is. I chose him. He's mine. I intend to marry him. Why don't you go back to the kitchen where you belong. No one invited you."

"Hey, that's not nice," Tim was broken out of his spell.

"Who asked you," Elizabeth snapped at Tim. "She shouldn't be here. This cotillion is for rich people like us."

"She can be here," Tim argued. "Bruce took her in . . ."

"An orphaned girl with no breeding? She looks like one of my father's mistresses."

"Elizabeth!" Tim was appalled.

Samantha strategically brushed a cup of punch from the table. It spilled all over Elizabeth's dress. "Oh, I'm terribly sorry."

"You clumsy oaf!" Elizabeth slapped Samantha across the face.

"Hey!" Tim grabbed Elizabeth's arm when she went to hit Samantha, again. He glared at her. "That was uncalled for."

Samantha ran from the terrace and through the ballroom, trying to hide the tears from being struck.

"I think you better leave," Tim said, his hands clenching into fists.

"But we haven't even danced," Elizabeth pouted. "And come on, you can't possibly be interested in that . . . That little whore."

"Samantha is not a whore," Tim said.

"Oh Timmy, you are so naïve. She could never fit in with people like us. Just look at her. She doesn't even have the same skin color."

"I've heard enough," Tim tried to walk off, but Elizabeth grabbed his arm.

"Really, Timothy," Elizabeth continued. "You seriously cannot be interested in her. I'm better looking and I'm like you. And I chose you . . ."

". . . Elizabeth, shut up!" Tim said. Tim pulled his arm away then stocked off leaving a gaping Elizabeth in his wake.

'Oh, Timothy," Elizabeth glared. 'I'll have you one way or another.'

Continues with Part 11: Broken Hearts