Title: Sweet Thing

Pairing: Germany x Fem!Italy

Rating: DEFINITELY T

"Hey, Germany, do you know how to bake?" North Italy (also known as Venezia or Felicia) asked with an excited smile. Her waist-length hair was tied in two thick braids and her bangs framed her beautiful, smiling face, bringing out the bright caramel of her long-lashed eyes.

Germany looked up from the paperwork he was doing (part of it was Italy's, since she didn't like paperwork and made him do it) and nodded. "Yes, of course I know how to bake," he said gruffly, which was pretty much his usual tone. It was always softer around Italy though.

Italy clapped her hands together happily, bouncing up and down slightly and making her pretty pink dress flounce around her ecstatically. "Ooh, Germany, can you teach me?"

"Italy-" Germany started, running his fingers through his slicked-back blond hair.

"Gefallen?" Italy asked sweetly. Germany sighed and nodded yes. He just couldn't say no to her when she asked in German.

"What do you want to make?" Germany asked. Italy stared into his piercing blue eyes for a moment before remembering what was going on and blushing lightly with embarrassment.

"U-um... something... something German!" Italy said decisively. "What do you want to make?"

"I want to make..." Germany thought for a moment, then smiled slightly once he had decided. "How about Schwarzwälder Kirschtorte?" Germany asked. Italy's brows furrowed adorably (in Germany's opinion) as she tried to figure out what that meant. Germany chuckled and then translated: "It means 'Black Forest cherry torte' and is chocolate cake layered with whipped cream and cherries."

Italy's eyes lit up and she smiled widely in excitement. "Ve, I love whipped cream!" she said. Germany loved the way her caramel eyes sparkled so brightly when she was happy, and he could barely stop himself from smiling just because she was.

"I know. I remembered that and that's why I picked Schwarzwälder Kirschtorte."

"Schwarz...Schwarzwaldo..."

"Schwarzwälder Kirschtorte. Just call it Black Forest cake, Italy, it's much easier."

"Okay~! Now, how do we make it?"

"Well, we'll need flour- I'll get that, the bag's very heavy -and we need sugar and cocoa powder, and-" as Germany continued to list the ingredients Italy stopped listening and instead just stared at him as he got things down from high cabinets and started mixing things together.

"Italy, can you go and get some vegetable oil?" Germany suddenly asked, startling Italy out of her daze.

"Si!" she said, turning and running to the pantry. She picked up the big bottle of olive oil she had made him get the last time they went shopping ("I am not going to use canola oil! Any respectable Italian knows to only use the best- olive oil! What would Roma say?") and ran back to the kitchen to set it down on the counter next to him.

"Thank you," he said, picking it up and mixing it into something.

"Prego!" Italy said sweetly. "So, what do we do next?"

"Well, I've already finished the cake part-" In that short amount of time? Germany was a genius! "-and so now we have to make the whipped cream and the and cherry topping. How about I do the cherries and you do the whipped cream?"

Italy's eyes lit up delightedly. "Will I have to taste it to make sure it's okay?"

Part of Germany wanted to scream "NO, LEAVE IT FOR THE CAKE" but most of him wanted to do whatever made Italy happiest, so he said "probably" which made both of them happy.

As Germany cooked cherries, sugar and vanilla together on the stove, Italy grabbed a mixer, a container of whipping cream (which is what whipped cream is made out of) and some powdered sugar and began making homemade whipped cream, which is a bit more delicious than whipped cream out of a can because you can put interesting flavors in it (like strawberry flavor, or tomato, if you so wanted). Italy liked making whipped cream because then she could lick it off the mixing utensils, which irked Germany to no end and so sweetened the deal for the mischevious pasta-lover.

Italy finished the whipped cream far sooner than Germany finished his weird cherry thing, and so she leaned against the counter that held the bowl of now-whipped cream and licked the mixing utensils, making satisfied little moans every once in a while- mostly to alert Germany to what she was doing and so bother him to no end. People always thought that the Southern half of Italy was the most evil, but really it was Northern Italy. At least when it came to being mischievously evil.
Italy finally finished with her whipped-cream-tasting and stuck the mixer-thingy into the sink (something else which would annoy Germany- he wanted everything put into the dishwasher) and then creeped up behind Germany to see what he was doing.

"Hey, Germany, are you nearly done yet?" she asked, reaching up on her tippy-toes to try to see over his shoulder without touching him. In the end she short of draped herself over him, looking into the little pot he was mixing stuff in.

"I'm practically done, Italy," he told her. He turned to look over and saw- gulp -that Italy had whipped cream all over her face. It would have seemed pretty innocent if the night before hadn't happened... he quickly turned back to the stove. Italy looked at him curiously but didn't figure out why he had turned away from her so fast. Was she too close to him...? But really, after last night how could she ever be too close?

Italy stepped away from Germany and frowned at her reflection in the window above the kitchen sink. Her image was a bit distorted, but it seemed like possibly she had whipped cream all over her face- oh. OH. So that's what this was about... Italy grinned wickedly at her reflection. Time to see how far she could bend Germany before he broke...

"Germany? Hey hey, Germany? Do I have something on my face?" Italy asked innocently. Germany stiffened but didn't turn around. Italy frowned. "Germanyyyyy, do I have something on my face?"

"Go look in a mirror, Italy."

Italy pouted. "Germany, I don't want to walk all the way to the bathroom just to see if I have something on my face! Just turn around and tell me!"

Germany slowly turned around and stared at Italy's face for a long, long moment. "Yep, you have something on your face." he replied stiffly.

Italy cocked her head slowly to the side. "Could you... get it off for me?"

Germany walked forward and grabbed her by the hand, then dragged her to the stairs that led to their bedroom. "Yes I can." he said. Italy grinned.

Mission accomplished.

A/N OKAY SO HOW DID I DO ON THIS?! XD

Oh, and VivaAmerica, got any, eh, name suggestions for that fic you requested...? ^^" Because names are not my forte. Names are my nemesis. NAMES ARE BIG FAT STINKY-PANTS.

Concept of this brought to you by AliceLaw!