Disclaimer: I don't own anything. I'm broke like you don't even know.

Summary: Steve and Bob, the official unofficial splinter cells take on a mission to finally become official. Although, with an obnoxious partner, Steve may stay 'unofficial' forever.

A/N: This is the revised version done in story format rather than the original 'Role Play' format. This is the first of two chapters so yeah this one is actually gonna have an ending to it.

Becoming Official

"So Bob, you ready for our mission today?" An agent with blue, glowing goggles was crouched next to his sleeping partner trying to discretely wake him.

Bob stirred and swatted the other man's had away. "Hmm? What mission?" He yawned, more annoyed than anything. He didn't see what was so important that his nap had to be disturbed. Once his vision adjusted to night's dimness he looked around noticing that what he was sleeping on wasn't his bed at all but instead was a little crawl space in some bushes hugging the side of some building. Looked like a house of some sort. "Oh right we're on a mission……what are we doing again? And how did we get here?"

"For the love of God! Were you even listening during the briefing? We're supposed to infiltrate Fisher's home and take him hostage without setting off any alarms. We're at the insertion spot where we were dropped off a couple hours ago while Fisher was at his Khrag Maga class and we were to wait until he returned home and went to sleep which I'm sure he is now. We succeed in this mission and the 'unofficial' is dropped off our title."

Bob yawned. "Steve, you of all people should know me well enough to understand that I refuse to listen to briefings. That's your job. You're the brains and I'm the bronze, am I'm right?" He looks up and shakes his fist with determination. "Prepare yourself Fisher! We will be official!"

Steve took that as a sign that Bob was ready to get started and he began to slowly walk along to wall toward on of the basement windows. "Just don't go all 'Thor-axe' on him. We're not here to kill him, although it would be kinda fun to tranquilize him." He had to hold back a few giggles at the thought of a doped up Fisher.

"Aww, no stabby stab?" Bob gestured with his hands as if he were jabbing someone or something with a knife. "Then how the hell are we supposed to be official splinter cells if he's still in the picture? We'll be unofficial for the rest of our lives."

Steve stopped just short of the basement window and turned to face his mentally challenged partner. "If we cut the main character out of the picture what do you think the fans would think of us? They'd cut us out of the story all together!" He knew using logic on Bob was like handing a monkey an essay prompt, it never worked but he found it safer to just wait out the conversation outside rather than guarantee a failed mission by dragging mister trigger happy into enemy territory.

"Not if we cosplay and with hold Fisher's duties, then the fans would never find out. Or…keep him alive and use him as an unofficial while we switch off and do official solo missions." The logic goes in one ear and out the other.

"I'm pretty sure he'd kill us. He already wants to kill me as it is. So yeah, if we get captured, there's a good chance you'll survive and as for me, we'll just call it 'downed in the line of duty'."

Bob cocked his head confusion and utter curiosity written all over his face. "Why does he wanna kill you?"

Steve nervously cleared his throat. "Uh. . . . .I kinda slept with his daughter Sarah and never called her back. I guess she wanted more than just a one night stand, so she was pretty upset. Sam didn't hesitate to give me an earful during one of our missions."

Bob couldn't help but laugh outrageously. "So you don't just pork donkeys! Yeah I'd say your in some pretty deep shit, but don't worry 'Thor-axe the Impaler' has your back."

"No, no killing him. I will accept my fate and just a reminder, don't sleep with his daughter. Anyway, we have a mission to do and we don't have Lambert's help this time. Fortunately, if we're captured by the enemy (Fisher) we won't get a protocal six."*

"But if you die and I kill him then……ahahahaha! I'd be the only splinter cell left and then I would become the new 'Sam Fisher'!"

"Oh dear God……the world would be doomed." Steve squeezed the bridge of his nose with his fingers. "Anyway, hand me an EMF bullet," he turned around to face the basement window and pulled out the SC-20K launcher.

Bob hands a bullet to his partner. "What's that supposed to mean? I can save the world while wiping out all the bad guys. The more bodies gone, the less trouble for the world……oh oh, it'll be like Death Note! I'll be the new Kira!"

Steve shot out the alarm fixed to the windowsill and started putting layers of packaging tape on a large area of the window. "You don't think before you act. You'd be dead by you're first misson."

"No, they would be dead by my 'Thor-axe' skillz!" Bob was growing more and more impatient and broke through the window loudly before Steve could finish making more noise than Steve had planned. He then jumped through the newly made hole into the basement below.

Steve sighed heavily and followed his obnoxious partner through the window. "I swear, you better hope to Buddah that he's a heavy sleeper. Our asses are on the line."

"Correction: your ass is on the line. I'll probably just get a slap on the wrist." With Bob's five seconds of seriousness spent, he looked around the dark room through his NV goggles. "Oh oh, can I take some of these gadgets? I wanna play with 'em!" He began fiddling around with some IR/NV/EMF** goggles he found, giggling like a giddy five year-old in a toy store.

"You already have some attached to your face you fsktard!" Steve noticed that both Fisher's SC-20K rifle and M9 pistol were missing. "Oh crap!"

"But I want more," Bob said while playing with the so called missing artillery. "Look at these things! They look so fun! For a nice big boom I mean! Or to stab stab slice away at enemies!"

"Put those down we have a job to do!" Steve turned around and peeked through his optic cable into the next room. "Aww shit! When the hell did Fisher get a dog?!"

-To be continued-

(Naw for reals I'm actually gonna continue this one!!)

Notes:

*Protocal six was mentioned in one of the Splinter Cell novels where in the event a splinter cell agent is captured an enemy, they are therefore erased from American society and any records of their existance made non-existant.

**IR=infra-red NV=night vision EMF=electro-magnetic field