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Hell's Smitten	By : WhatItShouldveBeen Category: Celebrities - Misc > Het - Male/Female Views: 3173 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: This is fiction, I do not know Gordon Ramsay and I make no money off this story!

Chapter List
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Monday, June 24th, 2013
"Alright, next two please, you know the drill," Chef says nonchalantly, shifting from one foot to the other and looking around impatiently, his smile replaced as suddenly as it had appeared.

From the red team lineup, an elegantly dressed Indian woman steps with poise towards Ramsay. She sets her tray down just as the blue team's contestant approaches- the bald man who put Bella in her place earlier.

"Red team, your name, and dish please?" He looks at her expectantly.
"Chef, my name is Kalyani, and my signature dish is inspired by my mother's shrimp curry, passed down through our family. It prominently features coconut milk, curry and of course is pulled together by a hint of ground ginger."
Chef pulls the plate towards himself and quickly says, "It looks lovely, Kalyani, just lovely. I love traditional Indian food." He spikes a shrimp with his fork, swirls it in the curry and brings it to his mouth.
"Absolutely delicious, you've definitely had practice with this dish. Thank you." He nods at her, handing back her dish.

"And could you please introduce yourself and your dish?" Ramsay addresses the bald man.
"Of course Chef, I'm Pietro and I've made you one of my personal favorites, Pietro's Meatballs." He hands Chef his plate, then stands back, watching carefully.
"Presentation is a bit lackluster, let's see about the flavor." He cuts into one of the meatballs and tastes it.
"What it was missing in looks it makes up for in a burst of deliciousness. Both teams get a point, wonderful. I hope we can keep up this quality. Next two chefs, please." He waves for the next two to come forward as Pietro makes his way back into line.

Up next, our red team contestant is the small and dainty freckled red-haired girl who'd been intimidated by Ramsay just from watching him on the television. I wonder how she'll fare now that she is inches away from him. Trailing just behind her is the blue team's contestant, the older black gentleman who'd also prepared a scallop dish.

"Red team, what's your name and what is the dish?" Ramsay asks, glancing at his watch again.
The girl- nicknamed "Red" by Garrett earlier- hesitates.
"Well, love, we don't have all day. Please-" Ramsay reaches for her dish without waiting any longer for her to speak.
She seems to finally find her voice and meekly says, "My name is Mary, and I've made you a seared tuna with wasabi butter sauce." She looks at the ground the entire time she speaks.
Chef notices, of course, and quips, "Mary, please, look at me when you're speaking. I can't hear very well when you talk to your toes. Let's try the dish, shall we?"

Ramsay cuts into the tuna without waiting for her to answer and takes a bite.
"You've gone overboard on the wasabi, I can barely taste the tuna. It's too strong." He hands the dish back to 'Red' who starts to sniffle.
"Oh come on darling we can't have you breaking down already, the show has barely begun and there's much worse in store. If you can't handle it, please, I don't want to see you cry. You're welcome to go." He motions at the door in pity.
Red finally looks at him in the eyes and shakily responds, "No Chef, I can do it," then walks back to the line. I can see that her cheeks and ears are burning in embarrassment, so I try to not look any longer.

"Blue team, your name and dish please?" Chef asks, picking up the pace.
"Sir, my name is Shaun and I've prepared a Cajun seafood pasta for you today, including scallops and shrimp," he says as he hands the dish over.
Ramsay eyes it for a moment before he asks, "Is this meant to be a single portion? It looks like you planned to feed the lot of us."
"Oh, yes sir it was meant for one portion. I'll cut down, I apologize," he replies calmly.
Chef grabs a fork and takes a bite.
"Your pasta is under-cooked and your scallops are over-cooked. A shame, as the sauce is excellent." He hands the dish back.
"I'm sorry, but neither team gets a point. This puts our current points at 2 for the red team and 3 for the blue team."

"Next up, please, and hurry." Ramsay turns his watch towards us and taps the face, indicating that the show is running a bit behind schedule.

Our contestant steps out of line, carrying her tray. She has mid-length curly brown hair and soft brown eyes. I recognize her as the girl who had shared my excitement at the airport just outside of the limo. Following her is blue team's shortest contestant, a young man with short light brown hair. He is definitely the most forgettable out of everyone I'd seen so far.

"Red team, please, what is your name and dish?" Ramsay asks, hurrying along.

"My name is Taylor. I've made a stuffed and wrapped chicken breast for you, Chef. It's got cream cheese and bacon." She steps back as Ramsay takes her plate and cuts into the chicken.
"Presentation is nice, your bacon is crisp and I can still see a little steam coming from it. Let's hope this chicken is cooked properly," he says as he pulls his fork to the side, revealing the inside of the chicken.
"Ah, great, it's cooked perfectly," he takes a bite, "and tastes wonderful, fantastic work Taylor. Back in line please." He hands her the plate and steps back.

"Blue team, let's see how you compare. Your name and dish?" he asks.

"Hey, I'm Dylan. I've made you one of my favorites, old-fashioned mac n cheese." He hands the plate over and watches Ramsay carefully, one eyebrow cocked in the air.
"You've seriously spent 45 minutes to make something my youngest daughter can make by herself in the kitchen? Oh golly, I hope it tastes astounding, it looks like rubbish." He sighs as he takes the plate.
He forks a bite into his mouth and spits it out a moment later into the bin next to him. "Good god Dylan, you've forgotten the salt! It just tastes like a big glob of cheese. Get this pile of goo out of my way." He hands the dish back to Dylan, his upper lip twitching in disgust.

"It's another no brainer that the red team has pulled this point. This ties the score at 3 to 3. Next, please."

The next two contestants look worlds apart. Our red team lady is thin with tattoos over almost every inch of her arms aside from her hands and has cropped black hair. On the other hand, the blue team's contestant looks like he just came out of a high society brunch, what with having a tailored suit on and slicked back blond hair. The only similarity between the two is that they both have deep blue eyes.

"Right, first, your name and dish please?" Gordon asks of the tattooed woman. She hands the dish over and locks eyes with Ramsay.
"I've made a winter vegetable hash, with potatoes, mushrooms, bell peppers, and squash to name a few. OH, and my name is Gina," she adds.
"Winter vegetables in summer? Alright, then," he takes the plate, "it looks nice, but I do wish that you'd made something that showcased a bit more skill than a hash. Let's taste it." He stabs a few of the vegetables and eats them.
"It's actually quite nice. Ordinarily, I would hope to see more finesse but this will do. Thank you, Gina." He hands the plate back and Gina nods, stepping back into line.

"Alright blue team, what is your name and dish?" he says quickly.
"Abel. My dish is chicken Marsala over white rice with fresh mushrooms." His voice is like silk when he speaks. A few girls glance at each other as if to see if anyone else noticed how nice it was.
"Abel, did you know you'd be coming here to cook or did you think you were here to meet the president? I surely hope you're ready to ruin that nice suit jacket," Ramsay says as he takes the dish.
"I am not a messy cook chef, I can keep my clothes clean," Abel responds, nonplussed.
"Right then, the presentation is not as fancy as you, but still quite nice. The flavor-"
Ramsay takes a bite. Then another.
"Absolutely delicious, if all of your food comes out as nice as this you have a very good chance of winning, Abel," he asserts as Abel smiles, bowing his head slightly as he turns back to stand in line.

"Abel's dish was superior, but Gina still managed to pull a point for her team. That puts us at a 4 to 4 stalemate. Let's see which of the next two breaks the tie, eh?" He motions for the last two contestants to approach...
Oh wait, that's me!
I carefully pick up my dish, hoping that it's managed to stay fresh and warm even after being the second to last person to serve him my meal. As I approach the table, Gordon watches me keenly. Following behind me is the blue team's contestant, a rugged looking Korean man with a playful glint in his brown eyes.
"The final two dishes now to break the tie, are you nervous?" he asks me, examining my face.
"Of course Chef, but that's more to do with the excitement of being here than anything else," I respond, maintaining eye contact.
"Alright then dear, what's the name and your dish, please?" He extends his hand for my dish.
I hand it to him while I respond, "My name is (Y/N). Today I've prepared something I hope you will like, it's pan-seared scallops, with a white wine tarragon sauce topped with bacon."
Ramsay looks over the dish, "It looks delightful, you've clearly studied your presentation. But this sets your standard, you shan't disappoint me with lackluster presentation after this, correct Mrs. (Y/N)?"
I nod quickly, "Of course Chef, I won't disappoint you."
"I'll hold you to that. Now let's see if it tastes as good as it looks." Chef Ramsay cuts into a scallop, rolls it in the white wine tarragon sauce and takes a bite.
"Absolutely heavenly. Thank you. I wish I could eat more, I really truly do." He smiles as he hands me back my dish. My hand lightly touches his as I take the plate from him, and I feel some blush run to my cheeks.
"Thank you, Chef," I say as I turn around quickly to get back in line. When I turn back to face him, he's still watching me, a curious look on his face. Then he turns to the blue team's contestant.
"Yes, the final dish. Your name and the dish, please?" He looks at his watch then back up at the contestant.
"Jay! My name is Jay, and I made you steak tips with a hearty mushroom sauce," Jay says as he hands the plate to Ramsay.
"The mushrooms look like, well, mush. Did you squish them?" he inquires.
"Uh, no... Well maybe... I thought it gets the flavor out into the sauce..." Jay responds sheepishly.
"Well, that it does, but it also would have the same effect if I just ate the mushroom with the sauce," Ramsay makes a point to say, embarrassing Jay further.
"Let's see about the taste, already I'm disappointed." Ramsay takes a fork of steak and mushroom.
"It tastes decent, but you've overcooked the steak. When cooking steak without being given a specific temperature, you should always go for medium rare. This here is well done. Which, consequently, is not well done on your part. The final point goes to the red team, breaking the tie and bringing them to first place to win the competition!" Ramsay claps with the rest of the red team and the blue team looks somber as Jay returns to the line, crushed in defeat.

"For your reward, you shall be having a lovely dinner made by yours truly. I will show you how to make a delicious dinner for eight and you're welcome to ask me any questions you might have. Now for the blue team, you have a lot of work to do. The kitchen is an absolute mess, I expect it to be cleaned to perfection. Now, get to it. Red team, let's head up to your dorm where I will be preparing your most amazing dinner." Ramsay nods.
All of the contestants belt out at the same time, "Yes, Chef!" and my fellow red team contestants turn around to walk to the dorm's kitchen. As I was last in line to go up to Chef, I am also trailing behind everyone else as we leave for the dorms. I can feel Ramsay's presence behind my back. He's so tall it feels like I'm being towered over, even though he's a few feet of respectful distance away from me.
"Well done on your dish today, (Y/N). You really pulled through for your team." I hear Ramsay say from behind me. I turn my head and smile timidly.
"Thank you, Chef. I studied hard to be here and I was serious when I said I wouldn't disappoint you," I assert while turning my head to address him, confident but still a bit nervous at his closeness.
His head chef jacket is ironed cleanly, I trail my eyes up from chest level until I lock eyes with his fierce blue gaze. The corners of his lips curl up in a smile.
"I believe you. Be sure to ask me any questions you might have during the preparation of dinner today. I'll help you as best as I can," he says sincerely, causing me to have to turn away from him as I feel a glow start in my cheeks.
Gordon Ramsay wants to help me become a better chef! Maybe I wasn't fooling myself when I set out on this path so many years ago. I only hope I can keep my promise to not disappoint him.
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Hell's Smitten