NOVA shorts: short stories about TF Nova (Some Cod characters included)

Cass x Gaz: 😤grumpyx sunshine☀️

Gaz wasn't thrilled about being assigned to babysit a Nova operator.

It wasn't that he had anything against Taskforce Nova in theory — they had a solid reputation and command actually seemed to trust them. But still. He was a professional. He didn't need a partner. He definitely didn't need her.

"Petty Officer Cassandra Evans," Price had said, slapping a folder onto the table. "Goes by Cass. You'll be working with her on this one. Try to play nice."

Gaz had taken one look at the picture — all bright eyes and a cocky grin — and immediately braced himself for chaos.

And chaos walked in ten minutes late.

"Hey," she greeted the room with a casual little wave, toting her bag over her shoulder like she hadn't just wasted precious minutes of Kyle's life. "Sorry. Got a little turned around. Someone should really put a map in this place."

Kyle didn't smile. "You're late."

Cass stopped in front of him, cocking her head. "You're cranky."

He blinked. "Excuse me?"

"Oh, I'm sorry—was that not the vibe you were going for? 'Brooding and borderline unapproachable' just kind of radiates off you."

Price coughed into his fist, clearly hiding a laugh. Ghost didn't even bother — the man snorted and muttered something about grabbing popcorn.

Kyle narrowed his eyes at her. "This is a mission brief. Not open mic night."

Cass shrugged, completely unfazed. "Maybe you should've told your face that before you started glowering at me like I ran over your dog."

He opened his mouth, then closed it again. She was already turning toward the board like nothing had happened, flipping open a notebook and clicking a pen with rhythmic little taps.

Sunshine incarnate. Disarmingly friendly. Unreasonably chipper.

He hated her.

...Okay, maybe not hate. But she was going to be a problem. She talked too much. Smiled too easily. She didn't take him seriously, and worst of all, she wasn't intimidated by him in the slightest.

And that made her dangerous.

After the briefing the room cleared out slowly, leaving only the two of them.

Kyle didn't look up from his tablet. "If you're going to keep showing up late, we're going to have a problem."

Cass tossed her notebook into her bag. "If you're going to keep being this uptight, we're going to have a problem."

A beat.

Then she grinned. "Guess we're already off to a great start."

He looked up. Met her eyes. She didn't look smug — not exactly. Just amused. Confident. Like she could weather any storm, even one in a very grumpy SAS-issue package.

"You always this difficult?" he asked dryly.

"You always this charming?" she fired back, swinging the strap of her bag over her shoulder.

He stared at her.

She winked. "Don't worry, Garrick. I grow on people."

And with that, she walked out, whistling.

Gaz sat there a second longer, listening to the sound fade down the hall. He didn't smile. But the corner of his mouth... twitched.

Before they knew it they were six hours into an op that was supposed to take three.

The target had slipped their net. Backup was delayed. The comms were patchy at best, and Gaz was just about ready to strangle whoever thought this was a good pairing.

Cass was crouched next to him, scanning the alleyway through a scope, chewing the end of a piece of gum like they weren't knee-deep in absolute chaos.

Gaz muttered into his comm, "Target's still mobile. Last spotted heading east down market lane. No eyes past the barricade."

Cass popped her gum. "He's not gonna get far. He's limping."

Kyle gave her a look. "That's not in the report."

"Didn't need the report. Saw it when he jumped the fence back there — his left knee buckled. Bet you a drink he's favoring it."

Gaz stared at her. "We're in the middle of a pursuit and you're trying to place bets?"

She grinned, eyes still on the scope. "What? You scared you'll lose?"

"I don't gamble."

"Figures," she teased. "You're a rule book with legs."

Kyle scoffed, adjusting his grip on his rifle. "Remind me why you're even here again?"

"Because I'm brilliant, obviously." She gave him a wink, then pressed a finger to her ear. "Jamie, we got visual confirmation. He's still on the move, but he's slowed down. Probably heading for the bridge."

Kyle shook his head, but she could see the twitch in his jaw. Not annoyance. Not really.

More like... reluctantly impressed. They moved.

Two blocks later, they ducked into a small courtyard, rifles up, steps silent. The air smelled like smoke and hot metal. Just ahead, someone moved — fast.

Kyle was about to shout for backup when Cass shot forward.

"Wait—!"

Too late. She was already over the garden wall like it was nothing, boots scraping stone. He cursed under his breath and followed.

By the time he landed, she had the suspect cornered, gun raised, stance steady.

"Hey, friend," she chirped, like they were at a café instead of a back alley. "Wanna be smart and drop that knife before my very grumpy partner gets here and ruins your day?"

Kyle moved in, sweeping from the side to flank the man. "Drop it. Now."

The suspect hesitated—then dropped the blade.

Cass exhaled. "See? Told you he'd listen to my sunny disposition."

Kyle rolled his eyes. "He listened 'cause I had a gun pointed at his spine."

She grinned and turned to him, sweat streaking her temple, wild hair stuck to her cheek, cheeks flushed from the run.

"Mmhm," she said. "Keep telling yourself that, sunshine."

He opened his mouth to retort, but a snort escaped instead. He almost smiled. It barely counted. Barely.

Cass caught it anyway.

"Oh my god," she gasped. "Was that—was that the tiniest smirk?! I knew I'd crack you eventually!"

Kyle groaned and walked off. "You're delusional."

"You're deflecting!"

Later, at exfil the sun was setting, painting her face gold as she leaned against the transport truck, sipping water and humming under her breath.

Kyle leaned nearby, arms crossed. He glanced at her, then quickly looked away when she caught him.

"...You handled that well today," he mumbled.

Cass blinked. "Wait. Was that—praise? From Sergeant Sourpuss?"

He scowled. "I take it back."

"No backsies," she said brightly. "It's mine forever now."

He shook his head, but his tone was softer. "You always like this under pressure?"

She shrugged with a little smile. "Only when you're watching, sweetheart."

His ears went a bit pink.

He said nothing.

But he didn't walk away either.