Simon "Ghost" Riley oneshots

Chef's Kiss-pt 1

The aroma of sizzling onions filled the air, mingling with the faint scent of gun oil and camouflage paint. It was another day at Task Force 141's headquarters, a place where the smell of war was ever-present, but in this corner of the compound, it was drowned out by the savory, comforting smells of the kitchen.

Sophie had always dreamed of becoming a chef. She spent her childhood in her grandmother's kitchen, learning the secrets of old family recipes and perfecting her knife skills on Sunday roasts. But fate, as it often does, had other plans for her. Instead of opening her own bistro or working in a Michelin-starred restaurant, she had traded in her chef's whites for military fatigues. It was her first day at the Task Force 141 Kitchen.

She was beautiful in a way that was almost out of place in the harsh, gritty world of the military. Her soft brown hair was pulled back into a tight bun, and her eyes, a warm hazel, sparkled with a determination that had surprised more than one hardened soldier. Yet, despite the rough edges of her new life, Sophie never lost sight of her dream. She was a chef, even here, even now.

The kitchen was her domain, a sanctuary within the chaos. Stainless steel counters gleamed under the fluorescent lights, and the industrial stove roared with heat as she seared steaks to perfection. She moved with the grace of someone who belonged here, even if her heart yearned for something else. The soldiers, men and women who faced death daily, came to her not just for sustenance but for a brief escape from the reality outside. She knew them all by name, their favorite meals, and the stories they shared over hot cups of coffee in the early hours of the morning.

"Morning, Chef!" called out Ramirez, one of the newer recruits, as he entered the kitchen. His face was smudged with dirt, and his uniform was creased from a long day of training, but he smiled at her with genuine warmth.

"Morning, Ramirez," Sophie replied, her voice light but tinged with the fatigue she was too stubborn to admit. "What can I get you today?"

"Anything that's not MREs," he laughed, leaning against the counter.

Sophie smiled, already reaching for a skillet. "How about some pancakes?"

"You're a lifesaver," Ramirez sighed, settling onto a stool as he watched her work.

As she poured the batter onto the hot skillet, the kitchen door swung open, and in walked Captain Price, the task force leader. His presence commanded respect, a man who had seen more battles than anyone cared to count. Yet, in this kitchen, even he was just another soldier looking for a good meal.

"Morning, Captain," Sophie greeted, nodding respectfully.

"Morning, Sophie," Price replied, his voice gruff but not unkind. "Smells good in here, as always."

"Just trying to keep morale up," she said with a small smile, flipping the pancakes with practiced ease.

Price nodded, his eyes scanning the room. "You do more for this team than you know," he said quietly, almost to himself.

Sophie's heart swelled with pride at the compliment, but she quickly busied herself with plating the pancakes, not wanting to let the emotion show. She handed the plate to Ramirez, who grinned at her before digging in with enthusiasm.

Ghost, a stern and mysterious figure, entered the kitchen. His broad shoulders and imposing presence were a stark contrast to the softness and warmth that emanated from the kitchen.

He silently made his way towards the coffee machine, his gaze flickering around, observing the interactions between Sophie and the other soldiers. The clinking of the coffee mug against the counter sounded like drums in the otherwise quiet environment.