Whatever Happened to Susan Foreman?

Susan didn’t dream of Gallifrey anymore. Not really. She dreamt instead of a planet with twin suns and shining silver trees, a haven of peace in a universe filled with wildness and uncertainty. She dreamt of a glittering citadel and a population of laughing, happy individuals.

Gallifrey certainly wasn’t like that. It had never been peaceful. Beautiful, perhaps, but laughter was as alien to Time Lords as any of the technology she’d encountered in Foreman’s junkyard.

Time Lord politics rippled constantly through the Capitol. Each fresh wave tarnished the walls and turned the elaborate robes of the High Council to rust and ruin. Her departure hadn’t changed that. Even her grandfather – who had been more influential that he’d wanted to be and more influential than the other Time Lords had ever expected – hadn’t changed that.

( She smoothed out the creases while she slept. )

Prompt: Alien
Word Count: 449

( “It’s up to you, my dear,” he said, softly. “I’ve lived out my life on Gallifrey. I’ve loved and I’ve lost and I’ve grown old. Your life is stretching out ahead of you. I can’t make your decisions for you anymore.” )

Prompt: What is your 'turn left' moment?
Word Count: 2399

Susan was washing the dishes when she received the call from Gallifrey.

It was a ridiculously domestic image, as well as an unnecessary one. By the 22nd century, machinery had rendered most chores irrelevant, but, from time to time, Susan liked to do them herself. After all, nothing brought you down to Earth more than ironing.

The plate fell from her hands, shattering as it hit the ground in a shower of bubbles and lukewarm water. David came rushing in a moment later to find his wife leaning against the draining board with her head in her hands.

“Susan?” he asked, touching her shoulder, “What’s wrong?”

She looked up at him with wide eyes and suds in her hair. Her beloved husband. Older now, but not old. Not yet. There were traces of grey in his hair, and fine lines around his eyes, but his smile hadn’t changed.

Her lips formed the words before her brain had really processed the question, let alone the event that had prompted it.

“Oh, nothing. Don’t worry about me, David.”

( They came for her three days later. )

Prompt: My life is changing every day.
Word Count: 1034

They were sitting in a quiet little restaurant on the banks of the Seine, close enough to the city to hear the hustle and bustle, but not close enough to actually be a part of it. Susan had been surprised to learn that Paris was actually a very beautiful city when it wasn't caught up in a bloody revolution, but, then again, it was 1893. A quiet, 'nothing' sort of year, which the travelers were all too eager to savour.

( Moments of peace were so rare during their wild adventures. )

Prompt: Get your character drunk.
Word Count: 568