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Dish soap bubbles and water up to her elbows, yep, Cook (or Cookie as Engie sometimes called her) was in her element. A sigh escaped her as she went through all of the dishes from the day. She really felt like she was starting to become motherly towards the mercenary team, Scout would even call her Ma whenever he saw her and it would make her feel special every time. Cook knew most of the other men did not see her this way, frankly she didn't expect them to, she was just glad to see them through the eyes of the mother hen that she was. It was nice to have people to take care of.
Scrubbing at the last, and obviously the most stubbornly dirty dish, Cook finished her task with a smile.
"And watch the water swirl away...humph, if only the world were that easy to drain of problems." She stated as she drained the sink of soapy water. Shaking her head, she dried her hands off on the towel thrown over her shoulder before turning to survey her kitchen and take in the damage. A tired smile crossed her face as she took in the food splattered on the floor, the wall, and everywhere but the tall ceiling.
"This is why we don't let drunk men work in the kitchen, especially if they're mercenaries." She chuckled, scratching the back of her neck as she reminisced.
It was a celebratory night from so many wins in a row for the RED team and the men had though it would be a good idea to try and make a celebrating meal, while they were all mindlessly drunk, without her. Being the drunk war men they were, one thing led to another and soon they had an all out food war in her kitchen. When Cook had gotten back from food shopping in town, the state of her kitchen hadn't really surprised her, having had a bad feeling in her stomach the entire time she'd been out.
Leaning her head against the counter and though of how she had managed to get the passed out mercenaries back to their separate rooms and to bed. Heavy had no doubt been the hardest, especially compared to her small size of 5'5. She kneaded her back as she remembered the slightly painful memory of dragging him all the way back to his bedroom, simply tucking him in on the carpeted floor with his huge blanket and massive pillow, making sure he would not wake up with any kinks. The other mercenaries had posed no problems as she supported them in a strange little jig as she made their way to their respective rooms. The only one that was humorous now was when she had come to the last person to move, Demo, who had partially woken up as she supported his weight in a strange stumbling walk, wanting to curse her shortness. He immediately became very clingy, wanting to use Cook as his personal pillow.
Cook laughed to herself as she gathered leaning supplies, remembering the struggle of peeling the drunk Scotsman off of her arms and onto his bed where he promptly passed out before she tucked him in. Thinking back on it now, she had tucked everyone in...even Spy!
Shaking sweet memories away, she quickly began the daunting task of cleaning the whole kitchen by herself. She started humming a song to herself as she scrubbed and cleaned her safe haven like there was no tomorrow.

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That was how the team found her the next morning. Spy was the first one into the kitchen, thankfully not hung-over but simply looking for the breakfast that Cook always made before anyone was even awake. You can imagine his surprise when he found the kitchen completely empty and no sign of life anywhere. No pots were boiling on the stove, no pans were sizzling, where was Cook? A frown adorned his face a the prospect of her having slept in, and knowing some of the others would have a bad hangover and in desperate need of her "magic" cure, he set off to her room to wake her up. He also wanted to question her as to how he ended up in his own bed, knowing he had fallen asleep on the couch, which he hoped no one had seen.
Stopping in front of the door that had 'COOK' scratched out and handwritten in a very colorful form under it, he gently rapped on the door. He waited a moment before his frown deepened at the lack of response from inside.
"Cook?" He called before cautiously drawing his knife and ever so slowly opening the door. He crept into the room before stopping in confusion. The bed was neatly made, nothing seemed to be out of place, her tank-top and shorts were on the back of the headboard so she hadn't changed...
'Where iz she?'
He thought to himself before leaving the room and closing it behind him. He saw Medic poking his head out of his own door.
"Spy? Vhat is vrong?" The man questioned as Spy shook his head and lit a smoke.
"Cook iz gone, she iz not in zhe kitchen nor her bedroom." He stated and Medic nodded, his face growing concerned, him being one of the better friends of Cook, though she still had a great fear of doctors.
"Let me change and I vill join you, ja?"
Medic ducked back into his room before Spy could say anything. The man soon joined him and they both began looking around the whole base for the missing Cook, Medic becoming increasingly concerned when nothing turned up. They made it back to the kitchen and found everyone awake, Sniper having arrived from his van.
"Where is leetle Cook?" Heavy questioned looking from Medic to Spy and back again.
"Ve have not been able to find her." Medic supplied as Spy took a long drag from his smoke.
"Ma's gone?!" Scout questioned looking up from the table with concern.
"Mphf hudda?" Pyro whined as Engie patted his shoulder.
"Where could the little darlin' have gone?" Engie asked, looking at the two men who had searched.
"Who cares?! We gotta find Ma!" Scout stated, jumping from his seat as they agreed with him, before Medic brought up something.
"Vait...vhy is zhe kitchen clean?"
Everyone paused and looked around before mumbles of shock and confusion rose from the group.
"An' we all woke up in our own beds." Demo spoke up, knowing faces dawning on his comrades faces.
They eventually decided to split into groups to look for their missing Cook, two of them staying in the kitchen incase she returned, they were told to keep her there until the others got back so Spy could talk (berate) to her for not having breakfast done which was in her job description.
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Sniper sat on the couch as Demo reclined in one of the old barstools, the two of them having stayed behind incase Cook came back to the kitchen.
"Poor lassie..." Demo trailed off, rolling his bottle of Scrumpy in his hands. Sniper looked over at him confused.
"Eh?"
Demo cast a look at him.
"Lad, I know ye did no' walk out tah youer van by yahself." Demo stated, pointing a finger at him. Sniper hung his head and chuckled while rubbing the bridge of his nose.
"We must 'ave been a sight to see last night, eh mate?"
"Aye." Demo nodded before taking a long drink, silence enveloping the two men...partially.
Sniper perked up and sat up straight, "Oi mate, ya hear that?"
Demo's eye popped open as he paused in his drinking, listening intently. The two men held their breath as they could hear a very faint, almost unnoticeable rumbling noise. Sniper nodded at Demo before standing and drawing his Kukri and Demo his Eyelander. The both of them crept towards the sound, following it until it led them to the kitchen closet. Demo looked back at Sniper, the Australian nodding his support before the one-eyed man threw open the door and they held their weapons ready, only for their jaws to drop as they took in the sight before them. Cook was passed out on the floor using the mop to hold her upper body half against the wall.
"Heh, poor lassie, worked yerself tah sleep didn'tcha?" Demo questioned as he put his weapon away and scooped the small woman up into his arms. He turned and walked out of the closet before Sniper closed the door. Demo went and gently sat down on thee couch with the small woman in his arms. Sniper sat next to him and looked past him to chuckle as Cook reacted to the warmth radiating from the man holding her and curled into Demo's stomach, unconsciously nuzzling her face into his chest before relaxing and resuming her quiet snoring.
Sniper laughed quietly at the light pink dusting on Demo's face. The Scotsman growled at him.
"Ah shut yah trap bloomin' kangaroo." He grumbled, subconsciously tightening his grip a little.
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Spy sighed as he made his way back to the kitchen, only to stop surprised as he saw Sniper waving at him from the doorway. He sped up and quickly reached him.
"Did Cook return?" He questioned the Aussie, cocking his head to one side in confusion when Sniper shook hie head.
"No mate, but yer gonna want tah see this."
Spy walked after him, only to chuckle when he saw what Sniper was referring to.
On the couch, both dead asleep, were Demo and Cook.
Demo had his head thrown back and was audibly snoring with one arm over the back of the couch, the other draped over Cook who was sleeping on him sideways, her legs stretched over the rest of the couch while she had one hand twisted into Demo's red sweater, the other curled against her as her face rested against the man's chest. They were both making a rather cute scene and Spy felt no amount of guilt when he quickly took a picture of the two, the promise to use it for emergencies lingering in his mind.

Description
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Dish soap bubbles and water up to her elbows, yep, Cook (or Cookie as Engie sometimes called her) was in her element. A sigh escaped her as she went through all of the dishes from the day. She really felt like she was starting to become motherly towards the mercenary team, Scout would even call her Ma whenever he saw her and it would make her feel special every time. Cook knew most of the other men did not see her this way, frankly she didn't expect them to, she was just glad to see them through the eyes of the mother hen that she was. It was nice to have people to take care of.
Scrubbing at the last, and obviously the most stubbornly dirty dish, Cook finished her task with a smile.
"And watch the water swirl away...humph, if only the world were that easy to drain of problems." She stated as she drained the sink of soapy water. Shaking her head, she dried her hands off on the towel thrown over her shoulder before turning to survey her kitchen and take in the damage. A tired smile crossed her face as she took in the food splattered on the floor, the wall, and everywhere but the tall ceiling.
"This is why we don't let drunk men work in the kitchen, especially if they're mercenaries." She chuckled, scratching the back of her neck as she reminisced.
It was a celebratory night from so many wins in a row for the RED team and the men had though it would be a good idea to try and make a celebrating meal, while they were all mindlessly drunk, without her. Being the drunk war men they were, one thing led to another and soon they had an all out food war in her kitchen. When Cook had gotten back from food shopping in town, the state of her kitchen hadn't really surprised her, having had a bad feeling in her stomach the entire time she'd been out.
Leaning her head against the counter and though of how she had managed to get the passed out mercenaries back to their separate rooms and to bed. Heavy had no doubt been the hardest, especially compared to her small size of 5'5. She kneaded her back as she remembered the slightly painful memory of dragging him all the way back to his bedroom, simply tucking him in on the carpeted floor with his huge blanket and massive pillow, making sure he would not wake up with any kinks. The other mercenaries had posed no problems as she supported them in a strange little jig as she made their way to their respective rooms. The only one that was humorous now was when she had come to the last person to move, Demo, who had partially woken up as she supported his weight in a strange stumbling walk, wanting to curse her shortness. He immediately became very clingy, wanting to use Cook as his personal pillow.
Cook laughed to herself as she gathered leaning supplies, remembering the struggle of peeling the drunk Scotsman off of her arms and onto his bed where he promptly passed out before she tucked him in. Thinking back on it now, she had tucked everyone in...even Spy!
Shaking sweet memories away, she quickly began the daunting task of cleaning the whole kitchen by herself. She started humming a song to herself as she scrubbed and cleaned her safe haven like there was no tomorrow.

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That was how the team found her the next morning. Spy was the first one into the kitchen, thankfully not hung-over but simply looking for the breakfast that Cook always made before anyone was even awake. You can imagine his surprise when he found the kitchen completely empty and no sign of life anywhere. No pots were boiling on the stove, no pans were sizzling, where was Cook? A frown adorned his face a the prospect of her having slept in, and knowing some of the others would have a bad hangover and in desperate need of her "magic" cure, he set off to her room to wake her up. He also wanted to question her as to how he ended up in his own bed, knowing he had fallen asleep on the couch, which he hoped no one had seen.
Stopping in front of the door that had 'COOK' scratched out and handwritten in a very colorful form under it, he gently rapped on the door. He waited a moment before his frown deepened at the lack of response from inside.
"Cook?" He called before cautiously drawing his knife and ever so slowly opening the door. He crept into the room before stopping in confusion. The bed was neatly made, nothing seemed to be out of place, her tank-top and shorts were on the back of the headboard so she hadn't changed...
'Where iz she?'
He thought to himself before leaving the room and closing it behind him. He saw Medic poking his head out of his own door.
"Spy? Vhat is vrong?" The man questioned as Spy shook his head and lit a smoke.
"Cook iz gone, she iz not in zhe kitchen nor her bedroom." He stated and Medic nodded, his face growing concerned, him being one of the better friends of Cook, though she still had a great fear of doctors.
"Let me change and I vill join you, ja?"
Medic ducked back into his room before Spy could say anything. The man soon joined him and they both began looking around the whole base for the missing Cook, Medic becoming increasingly concerned when nothing turned up. They made it back to the kitchen and found everyone awake, Sniper having arrived from his van.
"Where is leetle Cook?" Heavy questioned looking from Medic to Spy and back again.
"Ve have not been able to find her." Medic supplied as Spy took a long drag from his smoke.
"Ma's gone?!" Scout questioned looking up from the table with concern.
"Mphf hudda?" Pyro whined as Engie patted his shoulder.
"Where could the little darlin' have gone?" Engie asked, looking at the two men who had searched.
"Who cares?! We gotta find Ma!" Scout stated, jumping from his seat as they agreed with him, before Medic brought up something.
"Vait...vhy is zhe kitchen clean?"
Everyone paused and looked around before mumbles of shock and confusion rose from the group.
"An' we all woke up in our own beds." Demo spoke up, knowing faces dawning on his comrades faces.
They eventually decided to split into groups to look for their missing Cook, two of them staying in the kitchen incase she returned, they were told to keep her there until the others got back so Spy could talk (berate) to her for not having breakfast done which was in her job description.
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Sniper sat on the couch as Demo reclined in one of the old barstools, the two of them having stayed behind incase Cook came back to the kitchen.
"Poor lassie..." Demo trailed off, rolling his bottle of Scrumpy in his hands. Sniper looked over at him confused.
"Eh?"
Demo cast a look at him.
"Lad, I know ye did no' walk out tah youer van by yahself." Demo stated, pointing a finger at him. Sniper hung his head and chuckled while rubbing the bridge of his nose.
"We must 'ave been a sight to see last night, eh mate?"
"Aye." Demo nodded before taking a long drink, silence enveloping the two men...partially.
Sniper perked up and sat up straight, "Oi mate, ya hear that?"
Demo's eye popped open as he paused in his drinking, listening intently. The two men held their breath as they could hear a very faint, almost unnoticeable rumbling noise. Sniper nodded at Demo before standing and drawing his Kukri and Demo his Eyelander. The both of them crept towards the sound, following it until it led them to the kitchen closet. Demo looked back at Sniper, the Australian nodding his support before the one-eyed man threw open the door and they held their weapons ready, only for their jaws to drop as they took in the sight before them. Cook was passed out on the floor using the mop to hold her upper body half against the wall.
"Heh, poor lassie, worked yerself tah sleep didn'tcha?" Demo questioned as he put his weapon away and scooped the small woman up into his arms. He turned and walked out of the closet before Sniper closed the door. Demo went and gently sat down on thee couch with the small woman in his arms. Sniper sat next to him and looked past him to chuckle as Cook reacted to the warmth radiating from the man holding her and curled into Demo's stomach, unconsciously nuzzling her face into his chest before relaxing and resuming her quiet snoring.
Sniper laughed quietly at the light pink dusting on Demo's face. The Scotsman growled at him.
"Ah shut yah trap bloomin' kangaroo." He grumbled, subconsciously tightening his grip a little.
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Spy sighed as he made his way back to the kitchen, only to stop surprised as he saw Sniper waving at him from the doorway. He sped up and quickly reached him.
"Did Cook return?" He questioned the Aussie, cocking his head to one side in confusion when Sniper shook hie head.
"No mate, but yer gonna want tah see this."
Spy walked after him, only to chuckle when he saw what Sniper was referring to.
On the couch, both dead asleep, were Demo and Cook.
Demo had his head thrown back and was audibly snoring with one arm over the back of the couch, the other draped over Cook who was sleeping on him sideways, her legs stretched over the rest of the couch while she had one hand twisted into Demo's red sweater, the other curled against her as her face rested against the man's chest. They were both making a rather cute scene and Spy felt no amount of guilt when he quickly took a picture of the two, the promise to use it for emergencies lingering in his mind.