I don't own Hetalia! End/AN/

Denmark set out the butter to soften. It was important to have soft butter for butter cookies; it wouldn't mix very well otherwise.

Norway and Iceland would be so pleased at the cookies. They both loved sweets, even if Norway pretended he didn't. Denmark could tell by the satisfied look in his eyes.

"Denmark!" Norway's voice called through the house.

Denmark amiably went out, finding Norway standing in the living room. "Yes?"

"Did you leave your shoes on the sofa?" Norway gestured towards the piece of furniture, where a pair of muddy boots sat. "You know you're supposed to take off your shoes before you come through the house."

He said it all with his usual calm. He wasn't angry, Denmark could tell that much.

"Okay, sorry," Denmark said, grabbing the boots and brushing the dirt off the sofa. He gave Norway a charming grin, winking at him. "I'm going to have something sweet for you later, sweetie."

"Stop that," Norway said, seeming ready to groan.

"Butter cookies! You think Ice'll be excited? I think he will be." Denmark swung his boots into the area they had set aside for shoes.

"Yes. He loves sweets, almost more than he loves fermented fish," Norway said with a knowing smile, lacing up his boots.

"You going somewhere?" Denmark asked, standing with his thumbs in his pockets.

"To get some more fish." Norway finished lacing up his boots, then said, "Keep an eye on Iceland. He's been getting into things lately."

"Okay, okay… I got it. Have a good time!" Denmark patted Norway's head affectionately, and then swept back into the kitchen.

Now, he needed flour, eggs, baking soda, sugar… As he mixed, he used a wooden spoon and grinned. Good lord, he loved baking… it was his way of telling the people in his life that he loved them, besides actually telling them.

He reached for the butter, and was surprised to come up emptyhanded. "Huh?"

A cursory check showed that there was no butter anywhere. He set down the bowl, looking about for any sign of the food.

"Hey, Nor…" That was right, he wasn't home.

Ice couldn't reach the counters… could he? Denmark walked around the kitchen, checking each counter. As he walked around the counter and into the dining room, he pondered what could have happened to it.

Perhaps he only thought he got it out? No, there was no way… he was sure he got it out.

There was the sound of teeth meeting each other in a chewing noise.

Denmark looked about, then ducked his head under the table. When he saw what was under there, he started laughing.

Iceland had about half of a stick of butter in his hand, and was busily eating it up. The butter stick had teeth marks in it, and Iceland's lips were greasy with butter. He stared at Denmark, and took another bite of the butter.

Denmark pulled him out from under, still laughing. "Wait til Nor hears about this… You're a riot, Ice."

"Bubber," Iceland said, taking another bite.

Denmark decided to let him have it. What harm would it do? As he got out another stick of butter to soften, he kept Iceland on his hip, laughing when Iceland put his buttery hand in his hair.

"So cute."

/AN/ This is based off of the story of my sis, when she was really little, stealing my mom's butter. She just hid under the table and ate a whole stick of butter. She really likes butter. Hope you enjoyed it!