“Mimi, dear, I am a rock star. I’m supposed to ask for unrealistic almost unattainable things.
I’ve been watching stars coming off of the wall, and maybe if I’m lucky I can catch them before you fall.
No one is online. No one. What do I do when I don't have anything better to do (and even more so when I do?) Read fanficion.
Taking a break from all the Harry Potter-ness side of fanfiction.net, I went over to the Digimon section. Looking for some really good fanfiction, hard to find in the Digimon fandom and even more so when you're picky about the pairing you want to read at time of the fanfiction search.
I stumbled upon, what has to be the best Mimato I've read since soras_world's "Worlds Apart in New York City" or, the classic, first ever fanfiction I ever read - "Pink and Green". Everyone's in character and this story just ahhh, I can't stop smiling, making stupid faces at the computer, getting restless and catching my breath. IT'S JUST THAT GOOD.
big chunk, that everyone should read. Digimon fan or not. Support Taiora? read it anyway.
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“Film?”
“For my cooking show. We spend six months a year shooting the episodes, and the other six months airing them. I’m on my down time now, obviously. All around America people will be watching ‘Miss Mimi’s Magical Meals’ at six o’clock. They’ll all think, ‘Now isn’t that nice. Golly, I wish I could cook like her!’ and then they’ll flick to the six thirty news or ‘Idol’ or whatever else takes their fancy. By six forty-five they won’t remember what I cooked or what I was talking about or even what colour my dress was. They don’t really care.” All of Mimi’s fears fell together into a garbled mess as she spoke.
Matt put his arm around her shoulders. “I like your show.” He said comfortingly.
“It isn’t an international show.” Her words sounded choked and distorted. “How can you possibly have even seen it?”
Matt rolled his eyes. “Mimi, dear, I am a rock star. I’m supposed to ask for unrealistic almost unattainable things. Like access to American stations.”
Mimi would have laughed if she hadn’t been feeling so depressed. “Why would you want to get American stations? There is a Japanese equivalent to just about every American show ever made these days.”
“If it was the only way I’d get to see you, I’d fly to Mars.” Matt was suddenly serious, his cerulean eyes burning with passion.
“I’ve been watching stars coming off of the wall, and maybe if I’m lucky I can catch them before you fall. And you are not alone. Calling out to the astronaut. I need some of what you’ve got.” Mimi sang softly. She couldn’t help it. His comment about Mars had reminded her of the song. Astronaut, Mars, the connection was perfectly valid. Now to see how he would react…
“I’ve got you to propel me, I still need so much.” Matt added in a whisper.
There was nothing but silence for a few minutes. That had been their song, all those years ago. When they had dated. Before the deluge. It was on one of Matt’s CDs, and it had been playing as he asked her out. And it had always seemed to fit their relationship. Through their rocky patches, through the times of absolute ecstasy, and through the bits in the middle. It was constant.
“Oh, and Mimi? On the episode that you made your patented caramel mud cake, you were talking about An Affair to Remember, Cary Grant as your favourite actor, and how you almost named your son Cary after him. And you were wearing a cute blue sundress that came to your knees. It had little straps, and the left one kept sliding off your shoulder.”
Mimi’s eyes were shining with tears as she leant against Matt; finally letting her defences drop.
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