I still don't own Camp Rock, but I do own the ideas for this story.

A/N:Anna dared me to write a piece of happy Jaitlyn fluff, as opposed to my usual Jaitlyn Slaughter House (See Seconds for more details). As a side note the stories below are either bold, italicized, or underlined. Italics means in-progress, bold is complete, and underlined is ... well it pretty much means it'll go on for as long as I'm inspired by that series (like a drabble or something).

If you haven't read "Novelty", " Never Have I Ever", "Rose Garden", "Painting Wild Flowers", "Sharing", "Winning Roses", "In Sickness", "All in the Timing", "Seconds", "The Campers Catalog", "Her letter", "When I'm not lookin' ", "Barefoot CinderElla", or "Dear Amelia", I would appreciate it if you did.

For Anna


What is it about me and bad music? I hear it, and I think "This is bad music." But I can't turn and won't turn it off. In fact I do the opposite and turn the music up louder. From ABBA to overly produced Korean pop that I don't understand, I've heard a lot of it and I own a large portion of it too. But in this moment, I wish my shameful collection would just delete it's self off of my TuneTable. Jason's eyebrows go in to a deep furrow as he browses the "H" selection of my library.

"Hanson? Really Caity?" He smirks and goes to continue.

"It's feel good music. Almost all of it is." I fidget with my wine glass, wondering if dinner at my place was really such a good idea.

"No, it's bad feel good music." He insists while finally selecting some Frankie Valley to play over the speakers.

"Excuse you! You're part of a group that may as well be the newer Hanson!" My eyes widen as the words tumble out of my mouth. To my relief, Jason laughs while rolling his shirt sleeves up. I lick my lips absently watching his muscles flex under the shirt.

Okay, time to switch to water.

"What can I help with, Lady Caity?" He gave me a wink and moved over to the stove-top.

"Well, you could get me a little sugar." I had to hold myself back as his hands went over my head to get the sugar jar. "Uh-huh Jase, wrong type of sugar." I shook my head, grinning like a mad woman as he looked at me with confusion.

"Oh well I can ge-"

"I meant this type." I yanked his tie and brought him forward, bringing his lips to mine. He let out a growl and hoisted me to his height, digging his hands into my hair. I hummed in satisfaction as his mouth moved against mine, taking everything that I could. He ran is teeth over my lower lip and I could feel my knees tremble in the slightest. Jason broke the kiss long enough to set me on the counter, and then the battle continued.

"Jase" I whispered as he moved from my mouth to my heck. "We-we, shit." He kissed the hollow right behind my ear.

"We need to do what, Caity?" I could hear the smirk so I took a few gulps of air to settle down.

"We- the food will burn." I offered weakly as he went back to kissing my neck. I hissed and my hands shot into his hair as he made his way to the junction of my neck and collar bone, leaving what was going to be a hickey of epic proportions, I was sure. "Goddamn Jase."

He let out a deep rumbling chuckle. "You sure have a problem with your swearing, Caity." His nose skimmed across my collar bone all the way up to my jaw, before dropping a kiss on the the corner of my lips. "Is there something wrong?" I pulled his hair to meet my lips.

"Don't play dumb with me." I muttered on his lips. But, tragedy struck.

"So, tell me whatchya want. Whatchya really, really want." I let out a groan of frustration, hitting my head on the back of the cabinets. Jason laughed and moved away from me.

"And this is why you need better music."

Mood effectively killed. Thanks for that Spice Girls.


Sadly, things stayed relatively PG while we prepared the rest dinner and put the souffles into the oven. It wasn't until half-way through our rack of lamb and roasted potato's when genius struck me.

"Hey Jase." I grinned, running my foot up his leg. His head shot up from looking at his plate and his eyes darkened.

"Y-yeah?" I smirked, tossing my hair over my shoulders.

"I'll tell you what I want." I pushed my plate away and leaned across the table, taking a little bit of his shirt and tugging him to meet me half way. "What I really, really want." Jason rolled his eyes and he seemed a little put out, predicting the rest of the lyrics.

"No Jase, that isn't what I want at all." I laughed, in what I hope was a seductive way, watching his eyes roam over my body. He gulped, once, twice, and then a third time. "What do you want?"

"You. Naked. In my bed." What came after that is a vague blur, but I remember the plates being knocked off the table, and shutting the oven off to not burn the house down.


My suspicions where confirmed that my plates were now broken, the souffle dish-wear would need a good soaking to be semi-normal again, and my dog, Zelda, had taken it upon herself to clean up Jason and I's floor leftovers. I ran a hand through my tangled hair when I spotted the wax from the candles on my carpeted floor, but I couldn't bring myself to care. Last night had been ah-maz-ing.

"Sorry about the plates," Jason said scratching his neck, looking at the broken flat wear. I smiled and went over to hug him.

"It's not a big deal, it was cheep grocery store stuff and I can get more." I kissed his exposed shoulder and grinned. "In fact, I might want to invest in more plates anyway. Last nigh was..." I let out a low whistle, which had the desired effect of making Jason's ears flush red... and summoned my dog into the room in a fast paced waddle.

My extra-cuddly cocker spaniel streched herself out and was wiggling her little nub of a tail so furriously that her entire body jiggled like jell-o, causing the two of us to laugh. Zelda let out a small wimper and pranced over to the door, pawing at the carpet before wiggling again.

"Hey birdman, I think my dog wants a walk." I sighed, looking at the desperate dog.

"Bu-bu...," He paused and let out a long sigh of what could only be described as defeat. "fine." Mumbling something about 'stupid adult responsibilities' on our way to getting real clothes on.

"Well, I was gonna offer breakfast and bed after Zelda's walk, but I guess..." I trailed off with a shrug. Jason pulled a shirt on and was putting his pants on, which was pointless in my mind.

"Breakfast in bed, sounds good to me." He shrugged and a I let out a low laugh, causing Jason's head to look up from putting his boots on.

"I said breakfast and bed," I winked, throwing my own clothes on. "after Zelda's walk." And just like that, Jason was more enthused about taking Zelda for a walk.

...

...

...

Which was really more of a run. That poor dog.


"So, when are you going to invest in better music?"

"Jase, you're totally killing pillow talk. Shut up and cuddle me."


A/N: Because no one actually reads authors notes, I thought I'd try again here at the bottom.

Anna dared me to write a piece of happy Jaitlyn fluff, as opposed to my usual Jaitlyn Slaughter House (See Seconds for more details). As a side note the stories below are either bold, italicized, or underlined. Italics means in-progress, bold is complete, and underlined is ... well it pretty much means it'll go on for as long as I'm inspired by that series (like a drabble or something).

If you haven't read "Novelty", " Never Have I Ever", "Rose Garden", "Painting Wild Flowers", "Sharing", "Winning Roses", "In Sickness", "All in the Timing", "Seconds", "The Campers Catalog", "Her letter", "When I'm not lookin' ", "Barefoot CinderElla", or "Dear Amelia", I would appreciate it if you did.

And now that you're here... you should review. :)