Author's Note: OHMYGODIAMSOSORRY This is a present for WhiteNBlackRoses for being the 100th reviewer to Monsters, All of You...that I promised ages ago. I am so sorry for the wait, I kept procrastinating until eventually I was just-oh shit! And started writing this.

I OWN NOTHING BUT THE DERPINESS THAT MY KEYBOARD JUST SPEWED

It was official; Ingrid Bondevik now hated the rain with a burning, fiery passion. It was Christmas Eve, and she had been left with the last-minute duty of going out to the store to buy the unfortunately-forgotten butter. And, of course, just as she left the house a torrential rainpour came down. She fidgeted with the sleeve of her raincoat as she dashed across the street after checking for cars. Icy blue eyes void of emotion, she reached her garage, quickly searching her pockets for the keys. No metallic jungle of the keyring sounded, only silence. She looked inside, inwardly groaning in irritation when she found both empty.

Massaging the bridge of her nose between to mitten-covered hands, she reminded herself not to let her persistence fail her. She was a Bondevik, damn it.

The Norwegian tried to pick the latch on the garage door, to no avail. She stood up, weighing her options and silently cursing her brother, Emil, for not going to the store the day before like he had promised.

"Norge! Whatcha doin'?"

Oh, how Emil would pay. The sound of a familiar Danish idiot took her train of thought and practically drop-kicked it off track.

"What is it, idiot?'' She asked, turning to face him. He had an umbrella and offered it to her, seeing her soaked short light-blonde hair plastered to her pale features. She declined without needing to ever open her mouth.

"So, what're you doin' out here?" He inquired, grinning wildly at her.

"None of your business, Mathias." She retorted. He never faltered, noticing the overturned flowerpot that had fallen victim to her unsuccessful search for the spare keys.

"You need a ride?" He offered. "My car isn't far from here, Norge~" She glanced at her watch. 8:42. The stores closed at 9:00, so this seemed to be her only option.

"...Fine." She sighed, giving in to defeat. His grin widened as he escorted her quickly to his car, which was a cramped, silver thing. Completely impractical, but quite fast. He hurried into the driver's seat just as she closed the door of the passenger seat, sliding in quietly. She buckled herself in, crossing her legs impatiently as he started the car and they pulled out.

"Where to?"

"The store."

"...Thanks for being so specific, Norge!"

She rolled her eyes, staring out the window as she listened the the quiet hum of the engine and the pitter-patter of raindrops against the window.

They arrived in thirteen minutes. Both wasting time trying to time how fast it would take to run across the parking lot ("Okay, idiot, let's get this over with. One...two..." "Wait!" "What now?" "What if there's ice?" "There isn't going to be ice, moron. That's why they put salt out."), they both unbuckled, throwing the doors open and closing them quickly before making a mad dash to the entrance with only minutes to spare. The automatic doors luckily managed to open in time (well, mostly. Mathias didn't stop running in time and collided with it on its way out)

Those employees who had not left yet stared in shock and confusion as a crazy Norwegian girl and Danish boy came barreling into the store, not stopping to say anything.

"...' n'd a ra'se." The Swedish cashier shook his head, his Finnish partner eying him with amusement.

After hurrying through the aisles, soaking wet and exhausted, the two emerged victorious with several bars of butter.

They made their way to the counter, plopping down the copious amount of butter as they waited for Berwald to scan their items. He glared at them begrudgingly, but did so, finally being able to close up and go home for the holidays after they left.

Mathias drove Ingrid home, and, much to her irritation, carried the butter in with her.

When they walked in the doorway, Mathias immediately looked up, blushing profusely. Arching an eyebrow in question, Ingrid followed his gaze...only to see the one plant she'd had to avoid all month. Mistletoe.

She opened her mouth to tell the Dane off and dismiss this, but when she turned to do so, he firmly pressed his lips to hers. She blushed as well, before giving in to it. After a moment or two they broke apart, both turning red.

Unbeknownst to the pair, a thirteen-year-old Icelandic boy smirked, triumphant that his plan had succeeded. He informed his friend from Hong Kong about this turn of events when he returned to his room.

Unfortunately, with the time it had taken them to get back home after trudging through the rain...the butter had melted.

Oh, how Ingrid hated the rain. (Something entirely different could be said for a certain Danish idiot, of course.)

Just to clear a few things up:

*Heavy rains during the summer affected the grazing of cows and reduced milk production during the summer months by about 20,000,000 liters (5,300,000 US gal), which led to increased butter prices

**For Norwegians, butter forms a staple part of the Christmas diet, and is particularly popular as part of a low-carbohydrate, fat-rich diet.

***A Danish television show broadcast an "emergency appeal" for viewers to send butter and gathered 4,000 packs to be distributed to butter-starved Norwegians.

****Swedish supermarkets offered free butter to Norwegian customers to entice them to do their shopping across the border.

(All facts here are courtesy of Wikipedia, which I had to consult while writing this)