A/N: This would be my response to Suspian. If you are an avid Suspian fan, you may not want to read this. Then again, you might want to, to cure you of your sickness. The characters in this are all slightly OOC, especially Caspian, and his accent and looks aren't really that bad in the movie, I'm just making fun of them anyway.

And although I usually just use the universal disclaimer I keep on my profile page, I'm sticking one here, just because parts of this story are really... out there. In a good way. I hope. So for anyone who somehow thought I was C. or a relative or movie studio producer person or some such who might possibly have some sort of rights to this stuff... sorry to disappoint you, but that's not me. Check back in about five-ten years.

Susan had been back in England for five minutes and thirty-two seconds, and was just beginning to absorb the idea that she would never return to Narnia, when the train gave a rather vicious jolt.

"I say," she complained, but none of her siblings seemed to have noticed anything, and so she said nothing more.

Eight seconds later the train jolted again.

"Is there a problem with the track?" she asked, and three sets of eyes looked up at her curiously as she jerked forward again. "I mean, the train is jolting rather terribly."

Three sets of eyebrows raised in confusion.

Susan sighed, and was about to mutter something about unobservant siblings when the jerking became a familiar pull and she found herself standing in the middle of a wide-open field.

This took her so by surprise that Susan could think to do nothing except stand with her mouth hanging open.

It was Narnia again. She could tell from the freshness of the air, the greenness of the trees. It was her home, all right. But – wasn't she never to return?

Before her thought process could continue, a tall man ran toward her from where he had been lurking beneath an oak tree.

"Queen Susan!" he cried in delight, and she saw with a start that he held her horn in his hand.

"Who are you?" she asked bluntly.

The man froze in place. "I am Prince Caspian."

"Caspian?" Really, if it wasn't for the solemn honesty and confusion in his face, she would have laughed at the absurd statement. "You aren't blond, you need a haircut, and what is with that utterly ridiculous accent?"

"Excuse me?" the man – Caspian? – asked. "Do you not remember me? You helped to defeat my uncle and restore Narnia to the Old Narnians."

She waved her hand to make him stop talking. "I know all that. And I think I recognize you under all that hair… but why have you called me here?"

"Because," answered Caspian – if it was he – as he struck a dramatic pose that made Susan wince. "Ever since the day we parted, I have been pining for you with my very heart and soul. I cannot sleep at night, for thinking of you. I-"

"Please, stop." Susan interrupted. "You sound like one of my many suitors, and that is not a good thing. Be thankful Edmund is not here to mimic you."

Caspian's face fell, but he bolstered his spirits courageously, and declared, "Susan, my love-"

"No."

"You know it is true-"

'Absolutely not."

"Aslan made a mistake-"

"He never does."

"He did this ti-"

"Really," said Susan firmly. "I think it is time you sent me back."

Caspian stopped mid-word. "But-" he managed to get out, although it sounded like his voice wasn't working properly.

Susan reached forward to take the horn from his hand. "You blow through this backwards." She brought the wide end of the horn to his mouth. "Now blow."

She ignored the silent plea in his eyes until he finally gave up and took a deep breath. As he blew, a curious whistley sound came from the horn, and quite suddenly, Susan found herself back on the train.

"Oh my," she gasped, and Lucy turned to her in concern.

"Are you all right, Susan?" she asked worriedly. "You've turned an awful shade of green."

"I think I'm going to be sick," Susan replied, and to her greatest embarrassment, sick she was.

---

Six hours, twenty-seven minutes and four seconds had passed. Susan stood with Lucy at the gate to their school, stopped by a sudden thought.

"Lucy," she murmured, and her younger sister turned from the sparrow she had been watching. "Why did we all get on the train after we returned from Narnia?"

Lucy frowned. "I suppose because we needed to get to school."

"But weren't we all upset because it was the last part of the journey we would take together, and in a few minutes, one train would arrive to take us away to our school, and in about half an hour another train would arrive to take the boys to their school?"

Lucy gave her such a look that Susan immediately checked her shoulder to see if she had grown another head. She hadn't, and so continued, "I mean – oh!"

"Oh what?" Lucy questioned, but Susan gave her no reply, concentrating instead on the sharp, prickling sort of tug.

"Not again," she moaned, and she grabbed at a branch of the bush beside the wall just as the scenery around her changed.

She was standing at the top of a tower, and across from her, with a ridiculously wide smile on his face, was Caspian.

"No!" she shouted, and stomped her foot in a very unqueenly way. "I am not supposed to be here, Caspian."

He looked very taken aback by her forcefulness, but smiled shyly. "Do not deceive yourself into believing you have no feelings for me, Queen Susan."

Feelings? Her eyebrows went up as her tolerance plummeted. "Aslan has commanded that I no longer return."

"But we share true love! Do you not remember our kiss before your departure?"

His words pulled up a memory she had buried in the farthest recesses of her mind. The Dreaded Kiss. The Kiss That Should Never Have Been. The Kiss That Had Turned The Fanfic World Upside Down. If it weren't for the forceful …persuasions... of certain screenwriters, Susan would never have gone for it. Never. Not in a thousand years.

She suppressed a shudder at the memory, and then changed her mind and shuddered quite openly. Caspian didn't notice.

Now she understood why Caspian appeared so different. This was movie!Caspian – if it had been book!Caspian, she may not have minded being called back to Narnia again, although of course there would still be no love between them.

Susan decided it was best if she were a bit harsh about the whole thing (the only way to dispel lingering traces of movieverse), and declared, "I was leading you on, Caspian."

Caspian pouted, and everything he possibly had going for him in the looks department suddenly vanished.

"I think it would be best if you blew the horn backwards again, and forgot about all this nonsense," Susan added almost gently.

Caspian woodenly raised the horn to his lips, and Susan hastily stepped forward to turn it so the wide part was at his mouth.

"Now blow," she instructed, and that reedy sound filled the air as her surroundings changed once more.

"You're acting awfully strange, Susan," Lucy commented.

Susan grimaced. "I just had the most awful experience."

Lucy frowned. "Perhaps we had better get inside. You are looking a bit green again."

Susan had no time to wonder what Lucy was talking about, for at that moment a different sort of unpleasant feeling came upon her and she turned away. Three seconds later, the bush she had been clinging to was quite suddenly treated to a very unpleasant sort of fertilizer.

---

Two days, four hours, seventeen minutes, and fifty-three seconds had passed, and Susan was just getting ready for bed when there was a knock at her door. She threw a housecoat over her nightclothes and opened the door to reveal Lucy.

"I've been thinking," declared Lucy, entering the room without invitation. "You were acting rather odd on the journey here. Was there something wrong? I mean, besides you being sick."

Susan sighed at the unwanted memories. "Caspian was annoying me."

"Caspian? You mean you really do have feelings for him? But that's utterly ridiculous, and not canon at all!"

"I do not," Susan growled, glaring at her younger sister. "But Caspian obviously has feelings for me, because he is using my horn to call me back to Narnia!"

"Well," Lucy pondered in a philosophical-type voice. "Perhaps if you hadn't given the horn back to him because 'he might need to call you again'…"

"It was in the script!" Susan shrieked defensively, and at that moment, something tugged at her housecoat.

"Please tell me you just tugged my housecoat," she whimpered, clutching Lucy's arm as though it were a lifeline –which, in a way, it was.

"Of course I didn't," Lucy responded indignantly, and the room disappeared and Susan and Lucy quite suddenly found themselves standing in the middle of a great hall.

"Queen Susan!" came a rather familiar and hated voice from behind them, and Susan and Lucy whirled about to see Caspian running towards them.

"I can see what you mean by 'annoying'," Lucy murmured as Caspian halted a few feet away.

"Queen Lucy," he gasped. "I did not expect to see you here."

"I did not expect to be here," Lucy said rather pointedly. "You are disobeying Aslan."

"No…"

"Yes," Susan said firmly. "You need to send us back, and no calling me again. Ever."

"Really, Caspian," Lucy added, "You ought to be ashamed of yourself. What on earth are you thinking?"

Caspian raised his head. "I am thinking to soothe my aching heart by catching a glimpse of the Gentle Queen before she returns to her own world once more."

There was a pause.

"Really, Caspian," Lucy sighed. "You need a life."

Susan stepped forward and pressed the wide-end of the horn to his mouth before he could say anything else.

"Blow," she commanded, and Caspian mournfully complied.

One and a half seconds later, Susan and Lucy were gasping in the dorm room, and attempting to keep the contents of their stomachs in their stomachs.

"How…horrid," Lucy groaned, and promptly gave up the battle in Susan's trash can.

Susan had had more experience, and thus did not join her sister, although it was a very near thing indeed.

"Promise me," Susan whimpered, "that when you return, you will find Caspian a proper girl."

---

Three weeks, one day, fourteen hours, forty-two minutes, and five seconds had passed, and Susan was beginning to feel safe, and she had put this safety down to an interesting theory. Caspian had called her every time she spoke of Narnia, and since the last time, she had said not a word – and hadn't been called back yet.

She was determined to say nothing about Narnia, and after some careful pantomimes, Susan thought Lucy understood, and was counting on her sister to explain everything to Peter and Edmund.

Unfortunately, Lucy had not seemed to have done this, for when her brothers arrived four minutes and eighteen seconds ago, they had immediately launched into a discussion of Narnia.

"I do wonder what Caspian has gotten up to," Peter was just saying, and Susan found she could stay quiet no longer.

"Caspian!" she snorted. "He's pining after his 'one twoo looove' and using my horn to call her back into Narnia time and again!"

"Who?" Edmund laughed.

"Me," she spat, and then her face paled. She could feel it again – that unmistakeable pull. "Help!" she gurgled, and clung to Peter's arm while squeezing her eyes tight.

Edmund leaned over and rested his hand on her shoulder. "I say, Susan. Are you all right?"

"No," she sobbed, and then the three of them found themselves standing at the entrance to Aslan's How.

"You made me talk about Narnia, and now he's called me again!" she accused. Peter and Edmund stepped back from the force of her on-coming temper, but leapt back to her side as they noticed Caspian nearby.

"Leave me alone!" Susan shouted at Caspian before he could speak. "I am not in love with you. Never was, and never shall be. Now send me home again!"

"Queen Susan! Surely you do not mean to say-"

Behind her, Susan could hear Edmund beginning his impersonations. "Surely you do not mean to say!"

Caspian shot a glare at the offending king. "I know in your heart you feel the same as I-"

"I know in your heart you feel the same as I."

"We are meant to be together-"

"We are meant to be together-"

"For all time!" both kings said at the same time, before Edmund added gleefully, "Called it!"

Susan sighed, hoping that Edmund was done. If he was, Peter could step into his role as the 'protective, elder brother'.

Peter did not just step into the role, he leapt into it wholeheartedly. "Caspian," he growled threateningly. "I cannot allow you to court my sister in such a way."

"How should I court her then?"

Peter sighed. "Just don't. Please. Aslan knew what he was doing when he separated the two of you. Leave Susan along, please."

Caspian's face dropped, and Susan was reminded of a wounded puppy. "Promise me you won't call me here anymore."

"I promise," Caspian replied sulkily.

"Good." Suddenly efficient, Susan took the horn from Caspian and put the open end to his mouth.

"Blow," she instructed as usual, and Narnia disappeared once more.

"Gosh!" Edmund exclaimed, his face a lovely shade of green.

"Be careful," Susan warned. "Don't be sick all over the carpet."

"We can handle it," Peter replied, and was immediately sick all over said carpet.

"I say!" exclaimed Edmund, as his breakfast joined Peter's.

Three hours later, the whole of the school would be warned that there appeared to be a flu going around, so please wash your hands.

---

Seven minutes and forty-seven seconds had passed, and Peter and Edmund had been ushered from the room to get cleaned up. Susan was just stepping out into the hall when a voice behind her made her stop in her tracks.

"Susan, my love!"

A sense of foreboding fell over her, and she turned slowly, praying to Aslan that it would be who she thought it was.

It was.

"Caspian!" she groaned, but he interrupted her.

"I kept my promise – I did not call you back. I simply sent myself here!"

Susan instantly found the closest available wall space and hit her head against it.

"Caspian," she moaned. "You should not be here. Go home and do not come back."

Caspian whimpered.

"Just go," Susan ordered, holding her head. Then an idea came to her. "May I see my horn for a moment?"

Caspian obediently handed the horn over.

Susan fiddled with the designs for a moment before handing the horn back to Caspian. "Blow through it normally," she instructed.

Caspian complied, and promptly disappeared.

"He's going to come back, isn't he?" Lucy asked from around the corner.

"Not a chance," Susan replied cheerfully.

"And why not?"

"Two reasons. One: I changed the settings on my horn so the next time it is blown, Eustace will be called."

Lucy bit back an uncharacteristic smirk. "And the second reason?"

"Travelling between worlds against Aslan's will always tends to make one rather nauseous."

---

There once was a boy named Eustace Clarence Scrubb, and twenty-three hours, fifty-nine minutes and thirty-one seconds after Susan last saw Caspian, Eustace was eating lunch.

He was at home (still having another year to go before starting boarding school), and was currently occupied with attempting to untangle his shirt from his chair. (Seventeen seconds before this, Eustace had attempted to stand up when something pulled him down again.)

"What are you doing, Eustace Clarence?" Alberta asked from across the table.

"My shirt is stuck," he whined, but at that moment he realized his shirt was not stuck. "Stupid, low-quality…" he began to grumble while standing up again, but once again found himself pulled backwards into his seat.

Unfortunately for him, that was the moment his seat, and everything else, disappeared, and he fell painfully to the ground.

"Susan!" exclaimed a joyful and very annoying voice. "Susan?"

"A hallucination," Eustace declared. "I must have hit my head."

"Pardon?" asked the man standing before him.

"Or maybe I have been kidnapped by German spies," Eustace continued. "Although you do not look German to me."

"Excuse me?" the man asked again.

"Are you Italian? Or Spanish, perhaps? I say, you need a haircut. Appearances matter – that's what Alberta always says."

The man simply stared at him, dumbfounded.

"Take me to the British Consul," Eustace ordered. "I'm sure my parents are getting worried. I'll see that you re properly awarded."

The man suddenly began fumbling with a white horn he held in his hand, bringing it to his face so the open end was at his mouth.

"You're supposed to blow through the other end," Eustace corrected, but the man ignored this advice and blew the horn frantically.

"Absolutely no sense at all," Eustace muttered.

"Excuse me?" Alberta asked rather sharply.

"Nothing," Eustace replied, and was promptly sick.

And for anyone who hasn't read any of the A/Ns at the bottom of my latest stories, I've got a poll going on at the top of my profile about a title for a story I'm writing that takes place at the end of the Golden Age. Please vote. It would make me extremely happy to see even more input. (And for everyone who's voted already, thank you a lot! You're a great help!) And sorry, I'd meant to have the story ready to post by the end of the summer, but I'm afraid it's turning out a little more complex than I thought, so I might need another month.