At Germany's house, Prussia baked some treats for the dogs waiting eagerly around Spain, who looked at the store's webpage on Germany's laptop in the kitchen table. Prussia checked the cookies and wiped his hands on the ugly Christmas apron he wore. It was almost September, so he had started bringing out the Christmas decorations, as per family tradition.

He looked at the bottle of wine Spain had brought with him and whistled. "This is really, really old. You were doing some serious cleaning up there."

"Ajá. Took a while too," said Spain, not even looking up at him from the laptop screen. He had never really cared much for technology, and using anything internet related still required a fair bit of concentration from him.

"That's rare for you. You don't go back to your old house in the country that much anymore," said Prussia. Spain's old house had been a thing they just didn't mention at all for a few decades now.

"Hmmm, well, I'm behind a couple months on the rent for my city apartment and I was looking around for something to pawn," said Spain with a slightly angry tone. He knew Prussia wanted to ask about his house, and he was having none of it.

Prussia left the bottle of wine on the table next to him and grinned. "The crisis is still pretty bad, uh?" he commented, turning the conversation away from the house.

He was atuned enough to Spain's tone of voice enough to understand when things bothered him.

"Bad, bad, bad...," chanted Spain, stretching his arms. "I renounced all of my payments until it gets better. The people were happy, and it was more symbolic than anything. But even if I don't have to eat, I still have to pay rent. I should have listened to Romano when he said I should just buy an apartment instead of renting."

Prussia shook his head. "And you found anything useful?"

"Nope. But I'd been thinking of going back to the country anyway," he said, turning his attention back to the screen. "So, I guess I'll start packing."

"You sure?"

"Sip (Yep). The city's too depressing lately anyway. Some work at my garden will be good for me," said Spain.

Prussia nodded and grabbed back the wine bottle. "This wine would probably-"

"I'm not selling that one. It's from back when we defeated England's fleet and stole all his personal cargo, remember? We have to drink it."

Prussia looked at the handwritten date on the label and tried to remember. His memory had gotten worse and worse lately. He cursed being a stupid enclave now.

Blackie barked, and Prussia looked back to the cookies in the oven. "Call France then," he said, leaving the bottle and taking out the cookies tray. The dogs barked excitedly and surrounded him. "They're too hot guys. You're gonna have to wait a while for them."

The dogs whined and gave him their best sad puppy eyes. Prussia had to look away as he took the cookies to the table.

Back in the kitchen, Spain whined. "They're so expensive!" he cried, and let his forehead hit the table. He sobbed dramatically too, just for good measure.

"Really?" asked Prussia, looking over him at the screen.

"At least a whole months' rent for each."

"Scheiße."

They fell silent for a few moments, until Spain lifted his head. "I still need one. I need it."

Prussia smirked.