Hey! This is my fic. about Mimi being an FBI agent on Bin Laden's tail. If any detail is inaccurate or if there's something that I can improve upon, please email or review me. Oh, yeah! I don't own Digimon so please do not sue me or something...Enjoy!
Heart Seeks Pleasure First
"Mimi, did you see my red Armani tie anywhere? It just disappeared. And can you bring these back to the library? I think there're overdue like a couple of days. Where the hell is that damm tie?!" Michael grumbled as he fumbled through his closet.
"Relax, honey. Your tie is probably in the laundry. Wear your blue one with the silver stripes instead. You know, the one from Perry Ellis. It brings out the color in your eyes. And I have the books, so hurry up or you'll be late. It's almost seven, and your meeting starts in an hour and half." Mimi replied as she lounged on the bed, watching her hubby hastily tie his necktie.
"See? I told you blue brings your eye color out. So, you're going to meet Mr. Evans and Co. in the north tower, right? I'll come by around twelve and if you're out of your meeting, we'll have lunch together."
"Lunch together? What about wor-" Michael was cut short by Mimi, who gave him a quick kiss. "Day off, remember? I'll see you at twelve. Hurry, go! You'll be late!" She quickly waved him off and smiled at his retreating figure before going back into their room.
"What day is it today? The eleventh? Didn't the Al Qaeda warn us of a terror attack today?" Mimi frowned as she began to brush her long chestnut hair. "Argh, it's my day off! There are lots of terror warnings and they almost never happen! Why should this one be any different? Hmm… Ah, well, I haven't been to Neiman Marcus in a while…"
Shoes! Bags! Fall Coats! Argyle sweaters! Jewelry! Evening dresses! Mimi found herself in fashion-utopia, all the designer names crowding over her. Dolce & Gabbana in one corner, Christian Dior in the other, a newbie by the name of Zac Posen right ahead, Jimmy Choo bags displayed on a shelf…Yves Saint Laurent haute couture, too! Unknowingly, Mimi wandered into the shoe area. Her fingers lightly trailed over a pair of iridescent earth toned boots with pointy toes, dangerous stilettos, and satin ribbon detailing.
"Would you like to try those on?" A salesperson asked Mimi. "Sure! I absolutely love Salvatore Ferragamo and these boots are so autumn-y. All brown and gold! Bring me a pair in size seven, please."
" One moment." Mimi was left again to herself and she began to look at a fabulous pair of pumps from Chanel when she overheard someone talking about a plane crashing into the WTC. 'A plane? What in the world?'
"Excuse me, Miss, but what are you talking about?"
"You didn't hear? A plane heading for California crashed into the North Tower. It's terrible! How can something like that happen? The sky's all filled with smoke from the burning buildi…" Mimi never got to hear the rest of what the lady had to say because she was already heading for the exit, praying that Michael was safe.
'Oh God, this wasn't supposed to happen! Today was supposed to be like all the other days! How…how did Bin laden manage to pull this off? This is asinine! Tai and I were laughing about the possibility just yesterday! Did we overlook anything? Oh God!' Mimi had finally managed to get herself out onto the street. Her entrails turned to ice at the ghastly sight of black smoke furling from one of the towers. The building where her husband was supposed to be holding his meeting.
A/N: This isn't a Michael/Mimi fic! And if some people take offense to this kind of stuff, please don't read. Review, please!