I don't own Camp Rock.

Appropriate Attire

I glared at my husband who was sitting across the room from me. He was gently playing guitar and smirking at me. It was evident that he was loving every second of this. "Uhg!" I groaned in frustration.

"Something wrong, honey?" Shane asked and put his guitar down still smirking. He glided over to me swiftly.

"You know what's wrong," I said and turned my back to him.

He chuckled and snaked his arms around my waste pulling me into his chest. "I don't think I'm seeing the problem."

"I want to go to Florida," I said. You see, Shane had been offered a part in an upcoming movie. The movie was being filmed in Florida and the producers said that if he wanted the part all we had to do was move to Florida. Shane was ecstatic when he received the news and I was, too. I mean, it's Florida! Good shopping, Disney World, and good weather. Who wouldn't want to go?

"So do I," he said turning me around to face him. He still was grinning. "But you know my condition."

I just grunted in reply and continued on glaring.

"I just want you to be wearing the appropriate clothing, Mitchie," he cooed in my ear. "What do you say?"

I stood there for a minute trying to penetrate him with my glare, but unfortunately, it wasn't working. So I caved, "Fine."

"Thank you," he said and kissed my head. "Now let's go shopping, shall we?"

"I guess so," I said and with that, we left to the store.

Shane opened the door to the store and let me go in first. Within five seconds of arrival a beach blond girl asked us if we needed any help.

"Where are the bikinis?" Shane asked smiling down at me.

"Right this way. Will these be for you or for her?" she joked.

"Well, I think they would look best on her," Shane said still smiling.

"I think they would look best on you," I grumbled.

Shane laughed. "Oh, come one, they aren't that bad."

"How would you know?" I said to him smiling. Then a plan formed in my mind.

"Oh, no, she's thinking," Shane joked.

"You know what, Shane; if I have to wear a biking, then so do you."

"Are you serious, Mitchie?" he said looking scared now, but he was still smiling.

"Yep!" I said grabbing his hand leading him to the biking section.

The blond girl helped measure Shane to get his right size. He was bright red the whole time. Especially when they were measuring his bust. Eventually, we found a swim suit that fit him. Well, in most places anyway. "Uh…I think we may have to stuff fruit in the top of it because that is not fitting you right," I teased.

"I think so, too, I look hot, though, right?" He said while striking a pose.

I laughed along with the sales assistant.

After finding me a bikini and paying we went back to our apartment. "So, does this mean we're going to Florida?" I asked.

"Absolutely. Do I actually have to wear the bikini to the beach?" he asked.

"Absolutely," I said smiling. Suddenly the thought of wearing a bikini didn't frighten me, because I knew that all eye-boys and girls-we're going to be on my husband.

In Florida

"I can't believe I'm doing this," Shane said. We were on our way to the beach and Shane was fully dressed in his bikini. We used balloons for his chest because the fruit kept falling out. His biking was bright pink with orange polka dots covering it. Mine was the same, except in a smaller size.

"I think you look good, babe," I said kissing him. "Now, come on, let's go!"

I pulled him to the middle of the beach where it was most crowed. I don't think there was one person who didn't take a second glance at Shane. Several people commented saying he looked good and one even asked if his breasts were real.

"How long do we have to stay?" he asked me. He was sitting on the towel with me on his lap.

"Are you not enjoying the beach?" I asked him.

"It is actually pretty fun to see people's reactions, but I think I'm scaring some people," he said smiling.

I laughed and hugged him. Our hug was interrupted by a popping noise, though. I pulled away and watched as Shane examined his swimsuit that was now missing the balloons it had been filled with previously. "That feels so much better!" Shane said pulling out the popped balloons from the top half of his swimsuit.

"I think we better go now," I said still laughing.

Shane was about to respond when a little boy about 6 years old pointed to Shane's chest and yelled, "See mom! I told you they were fake!"

Shane and I both exploded with laughter. Eventually Shane managed to speak, "Yeah, I think we better go."

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