That Dutch Guy Bakes?! (Netherlands)

[Argentina]

"Almost... got.. it..!"

Within the kitchen stood a small dark-haired girl, a white apron tied around her waist. This short young nation was on her toes, reaching into the open pantry in front of her. Upon the very top shelf - rather far out of her reach - was a sack of flour. An open sack of flour. If only Argentina could reach up and grab the bag without pulling a bad corner and having it tip over, right on her head. It was a disaster waiting to happen, and yet, the determined South American nation had to try, no matter how perilous!

"Come on... come on!" Tina gave a frustrated groan, not only standing on her toes, but beginning to hop at the same time. It was childrens' logic to think hopping would make any difference, but Argentina was willing to go to any lengths to be able to bake the dessert she has missed oh-so-much in her time away from home.

Argentina gave a disappointed sigh and finally stopped to take a break. Too prideful to ask any of the taller nations for help, she decided she would try again after taking a quick breather. Tired out from straining her body's limits, Tina shuffled back over to the counter which held the ingredients required for her pastries. She may as well count what she already had out in the meantime, and after her roll call, Argentina gave a pleased smile to know that the bag of flour was the only thing not yet set out in front of her.

All other ingredients were already laid out; Baking powder, salt, eggs, anise liqueur, butter, and sugar. Argentina felt herself lucky to find that the warehouse stored all of the ingredients she would have needed. Then again, she did remember that the warehouse had recently been re-stocked with necessities.

Of course, there was also a jar of Argentina's secret stash of homemade dulce de leche. Tina always kept it hidden away safely in the far back of the pantry - of course, on a lower shelf where she could actually reach it, but still in a spot where none of those greedy, gluttonous men could find it and claim it their own. Whenever she was feeling homesick, Argentina took out a spoon and began eating dulce de leche right out of the jar. It was much like what some people do when eating peanut butter.

Today, Tina was aiming to bake her Alfajores Mendocinos, a special recipe for Alfajores that originated in the province Mendoza. It was a recipe that required she use the last of this jar, but it was worth it. Argentina could always spend some time out of her day making more dulce de leche anyway.

This particular style of Alfajores was caked with a special cream, baño blanco, which Argentina was also going to make from scratch. She was going to have these pastries for dessert, even if it took her last breath to do so!

(Long, boring post is long and boring. Sorry. XD Hope this start is good enough for you, Ned~)

[[x] Netherlands]

[It's okay, m'dear! Not boring at all xD I'm sorry, but I'll be brief, my allergies got worse, but I can't bring myself to leave you waiting any longer! AND OMG I LOVE DULCE DE LECHE FROM ARGENTINA!]

Lars wasn't the kind of man to interfere in other people's business. If anything, he kind of avoided other people if he could, he wasn't really patient to deal with other people's shenanigans without ending up being rude or dragging both parts into some awkward silence.

He didn't really mind the second, as just one of his looks could make one shut up, but when dealing with some of the most dense nations, he'd have to either be rude to shut them up, or worse, actually listen to them. And, as both situations were quite troublesome, he'd rather avoid people most of the time, really.

But, as the Dutch nation passed by the kitchen's door on his way to the greenhouse that morning, he couldn't help but notice a certain dark haired girl in trouble: Tina was tip-toeing to try and get the bag of flour from a top shelf, too far out of her reach. Knowing the South American, she wouldn't ask for anyone's help even if she needed to, and would eventually find a way to get what she needed.

Didn't mean he couldn't help, though. If she wouldn't ask, Netherlands would help her even so. Not because of some sense of commiseration or maçe vanity to help a girl in trouble, but maybe, just maybe, if he was nice enough to the girl, Tina would allow him to have some of the delicious delicacy she was probably going to bake.

With stealthy steps, Lars crossed the kitchen and easily grabbed the flour bag, placing it along with the other ingredients on the counter in front of Argentina.

"There".

[Argentina]

(B-but... ;u; you should get better before anything else! Also, one thing on my bucketlist is to personally fly to Argentina and try dulce de leche. :'D)

When the familiar sack was set down in front of her, Tina found herself with a puzzled look on her face. "...What is...?" Her voice simply trailed off as her eyes looked over the label. It was the flour she had been struggling on her toes to reach. A small spark lit up in Argentina's eyes. She didn't care how it got there, she was just happy it was there~! Now she could get started baking, and didn't even have to fight with her dignity to ask for help!

She swung around with a wide smile on her face. "Thank you so much~!" She purred... but paused when she realized she was talking to a man's chest, not his face. Blinking, Tina tilted her head back slightly to get a better look at the face of the man who had helped her.

It took a moment, but Argentina recognized him as Netherlands. She couldn't be blamed for not knowing who he was at first glance. Tina wasn't even a country of Europe. There were very few Europeans she could recognize anymore, other than those who she had met beforehand, fought in wars with or against, allies of her country, etcetera.

Because of this zombie outbreak, Tina had now been around more and more of the nations she had never met before. That was a good thing, making new allies she could rely on to save her skin if something went wrong... but it was also a bad thing if she was stuck here with old enemies, such as England.

"Oh," Argentina cocked her jaw. "You're, um... Netherlands, right? Yeah, I've seen you around..."

[[x] Netherlands]

[Meanwhile, I stick with the Brazilian version xD It's delicious, really! When we go to south, it's easy to find it! And their Wine too! And don't worry, I'm feeling slightly better, sorry for the short replies!]

"It was no problem at all" he answered her, surprised to see her so happy with such a simple thing. Maybe she could be grateful to the point of allowing him to taste whatever it was she was cooking then!

Netherlands offered his hand, throwing his cigarette on the trash bin of the kitchen. They obviously hadn't met before, so it was understandable she didn't know him. Although his pride felt a bit hurt by the fact that someone didn't know him.

"Lars Hofstee. Pleased to meet you" Lars introduced himself, looking at the girl intently "You're Argentina, no? You're baking?"

Of course she was, stupid question. But Lars did no stupid question without a purpose: he was, in fact, trying to slide in her business with just the famous Argentine dessert in mind.

How contradictory, coming from him.

But damn, it was Dulce de Leche!

[Argentina]

Argentina took Netherlands' hand and shook it with a nod. "Lucía de Romero." She returned the greeting.

Pausing at his question about baking, she raised an eyebrow curiously and let her hand slip out of his. Tina cast a glance back over her shoulder at the ingredients. "Sí. Alfajores Mendocinos." She began reciting the recipe in her head before repeating aloud exactly what the pastry was;

"Dulce de leche, sandwiched between two delicious cookies. Coconut rolled along the edge, white or dark chocolate-coated..." Argentina's mouth began to water a bit as she tried to invision the delectible treat, and she had to lick her lips to keep from drooling. She shook her head to snap herself out of her delicious pastry-filled fantasies and quickly swung back around to face Netherlands.

"Yes," She concluded. "Yes, yes I am baking!" Argentina paused and eyed Netherlands carefully. He seemed like a pretty... stoic man. The kind who would keep to his own business unless there were something for him in it. "...Did you.. want some? Of the Alfajores, I mean..." The silent, hungered look in his eyes answered that question for him.

Tina recognized that look anywhere. No one can resist Argentine pastries, after all! The best in the world - at least, according to Tina.

(Oh, man. I swear, this wasn't intentional in any way, shape or form... but I was looking up the recipe for those alfajores again, and apparently, some woman wrote up some kind of blog about them. And something of it was dedicated to her sweetheart who lives in the Netherlands. It was titled, 'From Argentina to the Netherlands, For Love!'. What is this, I don't even... I'm laughing about it with one of my friends now. XDD)

[[x] Netherlands]

Alfajores Mendocinos. He had no idea what it was, but he was pretty sure it was something amazing, from what she said. Reminded him of Stroopwafels, his delicious waffle cookie made from two thin layers of batter with a sticky syrup filling in the middle.

"I've never had it, to be honest" he answered, looking at the things she had to bake them "But I would like to".

[pfff My fav DJ is a brazilian girl who dates this Dutch guy who just looks IDENTICAL to Can Gogh]

[Argentina]

"Never had them?" Argentina's lips curled into a small smirk. "Well! We can't have that, now can we?" She quickly dropped down to a crouch in front of one of the cabnets and pulled out a large bowl, setting it up on a counter.

Tina straightened herself out and looked up at Netherlands. "Allow me to suggest a fair deal;" said the younger nation, "In exchange for your..." Argentina pressed her lips together, trying to find the right word. "...help.. in getting the flour from the shelf... what do you say, if you assist me in baking the Alfajores, I share some of them with you? Fair trade, sí?"

Reaching behind her back, Argentina tightened the bow holding her apron closed and turned to face the ingredients. Without waiting for a response from Netherlands, Tina already began opening the bag of flour.

[[x] Netherlands]

Well, he both helped her get the flour and now help to bake? Tina better give him twice the amount of Alfajores, for he was helping her twice!

And that made much sense on his head, of course.

But anything for the delicacy.

"I agree. But I do not know how to bake them. What should I do?"

[Argentina]

Argentina, with her back turned to Netherlands, simply shook her head. If she had been turned towards him, he would've seen her roll her eyes. "Don't worry about not knowing how to bake them. You'll only do simple tasks, like help stir while I get the oven ready. If there's anything more complex, I'll instruct you on what to do." Tina promised and used one hand to trace an X over her chest. "Cross my heart. I could use some help is all. It'll hurry up the process with two people working."

Argentina was about to pick up the sack of flour, turn it upside down and dump all of the contents in... when she remembered something rather vital. She looked over her shoulder at Netherlands, not looking the least bit embarrassed at the rather horrible mistake she was about to make. "Hey. Mind getting me a measuring cup? I forgot I need one for this recipe..."

Argentina looked Netherlands up and down, examining him. Something was missing...

"...Oh, right. You also might want to put on an apron or something. Things can get messy when you're baking."

[[x] Netherlands]

Netherlands just stared at Tina, not understanding what that cross meant, and frowned his nose, nodding at her and getting the measuring cup. He wasn't a really talkative man, so he didn't make any questions to the girl.

Giving her the cup, he's got an apron and just waited for whatever she would ask of him.

[Argentina]

"Alright!" Tina took the meassuring cup and began filling it with flour. "One and one half cups of flour," She spoke aloud as she poured the cupfuls into the mixing bowl she'd pulled out from the cabinet. She made sure she was careful to fill the first cup of flour and put it into the bowl...

...However, when Argentina pulled the bag back to fill up for the next half-cup, her hands around the bag of flour, unfortunately, slipped. Tina's muscled tensed and she quickly fumbled to catch the sack, but it was too late. She could do nothing but stand there as the bag of flour fell from her arms and onto the floor.

THUMP!

Within seconds of impact, a cloud of white, powdery mist had completely covered Argentina. Her face, clothes, pants, everything, as well as the floor and everything within a several-foot radius of the bag. Argentina just stood there, wide-eyed, her arms still in position from where they were when the bag slipped from her grasp... unmoving.

Finally, after a few moments of silence, Tina's whole body began trembling. It was as though a sudden burst of chills had swept up her spine. She shut her eyes tightly and dropped to a crouch. The poor girl gave a small, high-pitched sneeze and began frantically wiping at her eyes with her sleeves. Of course, this did absolutely no good, since her sleeves were covered in flour as well. It was pretty pitiful.

"Maldita sea! Mierda! Jorder!" Argentina began whimpering every swear word of the Spanish language as she struggled to get the flour out of her eyes. It was really beginning to sting, and you could hear the waver - the quiver - in her voice. She was in pain, but she was clearly trying to be the grown woman she was and not start crying. Crying never solved anything. Did crying stop her then-dictators from being heartless assholes? No. And you have to be a real heartless asshole not to be swayed by a little girl's tears.

Tina tried to keep her calm by remembering what true pain feels like. This burning in her eyes was nothing compared to being shot with a rifle. True pain is the bullets to the shoulder, calf, and chest that she had taken in the wars she had lived to fight through.