Title: Kisses and Killings; Permanent Placement Program

Summary: Welcome to a world where the best hide in the streets of Roseville. Welcome to a world where nothing is as it seems. Welcome to the world of Andi, DeeDee, Carlos and Will--Welcome to the Permanent placement Program. Welcome to hell.

Rating: T

Warning: Contains references to violence, self-harm, mental disorders and possibly sex.

Disclaimer: I haven't ever owned the Gallagher Girls.

Claimer: I own Andrea Jones, Carlos Ruiz, William Marr and the Permanent Placement Program. I also own the minor OCs.

A/N: Here's where we meet everyone. This chapter is very lighthearted--not much of worth happens here. Something I'd like to address is that I'm writing the novel equivilant of this as well, so I'd appreciate if you didn't copy my work or take my idea. This means a lot to me.

"Come on, Andi! We're going to be late!" My second-most obnoxious older brother, Dillon, was yelling for me to get in the car so we could get to the carnival. I think he was meeting his best friend, Josh, there.

Personally, I was going to be hanging out with Carlos, DeeDee and Will. This was one of the few nights we got off. I was going to enjoy it, dammit, before I had to do something tomorrow night, Monday night. But if I knew my friends, DeeDee and Will would get into a fight and I'd get dragged off with DeeDee while Carlos was pulled in the opposite direction by Will.

Our Roseville Faire (yes, it was spelled that way, no matter HOW retarded everyone thought it was) was a four-night event. The first night involved a parade and a lot of rides, fundraising for the city. The second night involved a bunch of contests, like "best pie" and "biggest pumpkin". Yeah, we live in a somewhat farm town. I'd rather be in New York, personally, but I've heard that the 3P-Ts up there are weak. Therefore, I am not there.

The third night is when prizes are awarded, and everything's just open. The fourth night is a Monday, and it's one last chance to do everything before they close it down and take it apart the next day.

"I'm coming, I'm coming, chowder-head, no need to wet yourself!" I yelled back.

"Andi!" My mom isn't a spy, so she hasn't ever heard me cuss a blue-streak when there's a guy holding a gun to my head. Hopefully, she'll never get to knowing it, because if she does—bang! She's dead. I like my mother alive, thank you, no matter how naïve she is. Well, I guess she might know. It's hard to keep a secret like this. But if she knows, she doesn't let on.

"Sorry, Mom! I'll be there in five!"

"Can you hurry up at least?" Dillon yelled back, and I snorted. Ask a girl to hurry up when it was probably the only time in the next six months she actually had time to look somewhat pretty?

Just go ask the waves to stop crashing on the beach. It'd be easier.

I put my straightening iron down and grabbed my green hairclip, the one with the rhinestone daisy on it. Yeah, it's immature, but that's who I am.

I pulled my jean-jacket on over my knee-length white dress. It was kinda lacey, but it was mostly white cotton. Green embroidery decorated the hem, and it was pretty much the only dress I'd ever wear. Underneath, I had my jean shorts on, just because something ALWAYS happens, and I have a feeling I'll need them. I pulled on my sandals and headed downstairs, grabbing my green over-the-shoulder bag and cell phone on the way.

In the garage, my older siblings, all three of them, were waiting. There's Keith, who's eighteen, Dillon, who's sixteen, and Caitlyn, who's twenty. I'm the baby of the family, at fourteen.

Of course, the baby of the family is the one with the most dangerous life. Caity's a 3P too. So is Dad. But the boys and Mom have no clue whatsoever, just that Caity and I always had bruises from "tripping over furniture" when were younger, and heavy involvement in an exclusive club.

I have no clue what Dad told Mom, but whatever it was, she believed it.

"There you are, Andi, I thought you'd take another decade!" Caity laughed at Keith's expression.

"She's a girl, Key. She's going to take a while." To me, she added, "Nice dress. Where'd you get it?"

"Old Navy, if you can believe it. They had this FANTASTIC sale last week; you totally should've been there!" I squealed, forgetting what I was doing.

Dillon and Keith gagged in unison. They're not so big on the fashion thing, although they both hate when I wear anything too "Revealing". Which is once every millennium, honestly. Because I have to wear mission ready clothes at almost all times. DeeDee and I ran an experiment awhile ago and got results: it's pretty much physically impossible to look hot and be a good fighter. Your makeup is going to smear from sweat and you're going to get bruises and cuts in inopportune places, your hair will get messed up and the less clothes you wear, the bigger of a target you are. It's science, done my way.

Mom hurried out the door into the garage, carrying a plate of brownies and her purse. Dad followed her, carrying a pie.

"Okay, Andi, you're going with Caity, boys, you're with us." Mom informed them, passing the plate of brownies to Dillon and digging in her purse for keys. "And if a single one of those brownies goes missing, I will know who to blame, honey. And you will not like the consequences."

That's what I love about my mom. She's 39, has four kids, and could pass as the nicest lady you've ever/will ever meet, yet she can make my sixteen year old brother flinch and murmur, "Yes, mommy…" with a single sentence.

So I got into Caity's blue Honda Accord while Dad, Mom, Keith and Dillon piled into Mom's SUV.

Caity pulled out smoothly and we spent the next five minutes chatting about shopping, etcetera. Then Caity's tone turned serious.

"Hey, An, what's up with you and the Carlos guy?" she asked, glancing over at me and then back at the road.

"We're partners, Caity, like you and Seph," I replied, reminding her of Joseph Feiling, her partner. I was fiddling with the hem of my skirt, folding and smoothing it.

"Yeah, and look how that turned out." Right. They fell in love. I'd forgotten about that. "Andi…falling in love with your partner is stupid, and dangerous, and you'll just end up getting hurt."

"Yeah, I know, but I'm not in love with him. I just have a teeny-tiny crush on him. I'll get over it." I flipped my hair over my shoulder, my fingers brushing against my dangly silver earrings.

Caity just gave me a Look, and shook her head. "Just keep it in mind, kay?"

Look, here's the deal with me and Carlos. We have a total love-hate relationship going on. My brother once commented that we'd either kill each other or be best friends, because we're so alike it's kinda freaky. We're best friends, but that's only half the story. The other half is confusing and convoluted and I can't really think of another con-word, so there you go. I like Carlos, and he knows it. Carlos likes me and I know it. I like Carlos and everyone knows it. Carlos likes me and everyone knows it. Even my older sister, who's off on missions 95% of the time, knows it. We like each other, but the probability of either of us ever dating or getting together or anything is 0%. We're spies. We don't have relationships. It'll just hurt you in the end. It's not like in the movies or in storybooks, how the girl gets the guy and everything turns out perfectly, despite the circumstances. It just doesn't happen that way.

That's especially true for 3P-Ts, because, in actuality, none of the 3P-Fs have ever passed the age of 35. Cameron Morgan's father, [find first name] Morgan, was a 3P. He died at 33, when his daughter was only 11. The only exception to that rule is Joe Solomon, but he's an exception to a lot of things. He's the only to be 38, a 3P-F, and the only one to have started 3P-T in high school after attending Blackthorne. We don't know how much longer he's going to live—and neither does he.

But this is why I'm worried for my sister. She's 20, and though she's good by spy standards, she's not the best. And only the best really survive in this world. Carlos isn't the best either. And I don't want to see him dead while I care about him so much. That's why I try not to care. But it doesn't always work.

We pulled into the parking lot and, well, parked.

I climbed out and checked my cell. A text awaited me from Carlos.

Meet the 3s by the Ferris wheel.

"I gotta go meet DeeDee by the Ferris wheel, so see you later?"

"Meet me here at ten." Caity replied absently as she pulled her own cell out.

"Later!" I told her, and dashed off.

I saw DeeDee a few hundred feet away—she always dresses in pink when we're not on missions. She and Will were talking animatedly, probably arguing. Again.

That seems to be their forte. They almost never get along, but I'm convinced that she's got a crush on him and vice versa. I've never told them because I'm fairly certain that if I did, I'd be in a LOT of pain two minutes later. And also: interfering might bring them together, and that would just result in heartbreak for the both of them.

Carlos was leaning against the wall of the library, watching disinterestedly as DeeDee pointed at something and Will shook his head and pointed another direction. I slipped up and stood next to Carlos while DeeDee and Will kept arguing.

DeeDee kept shaking her head, her pink tasseled hat's pompoms shaking furiously, along with her semi-curly blonde hair. If DeeDee was the All-American girl, Will was the All-American guy, brown hair, brown eyes, the whole nine yards. Me and Carlos were the odd ones out here. He had a Hispanic-Asian-American background, and I had a German-French-Asian-American background. I know those both sound convoluted and difficult to follow, but they're really not. Carlos's mom is Asian, and his dad is half Hispanic, half Caucasian. He doesn't really look Hispanic, but he got a Hispanic name because his grandmother on his dad's side insisted. On the other hand, his younger brother, Dominic, doesn't have a Hispanic name, but definitely looks Hispanic.

As for me, my mom is half-French, half-Asian (my grandparents have the weirdest food when we go to their house because Grandma mixes Papa's French tastes with her Asian tastes and I don't even like thinking about that sushi cordon-bleu we had last time) and my dad is German-Irish, but he'd renounced Ireland because of becoming an American spy, so I don't know if I'm still part Irish or if that's just a "gap" in my heritage. Caity looks more Asian than I do, and I look more European than she does, but we're still sisters. And then Keith looks like Caity and Dillon looks like me. On missions, when we need a cover, I often pass for Will's younger sister, but in reality, we aren't related at all. Actually, I look more like Will than I do Caity, but I'm really quite sure that Caity's my sister, and that Will's not my brother. DNA tests have proven it.

"What're they arguing about this time?" I whispered to Carlos, who still looked bored, by the way.

"Um, DeeDee wants to go on the roller coaster while Will would rather go on the Ferris wheel. It's kinda stupid, I think. They can just go on both. Or they can split up." Apparently, DeeDee and Will heard him because they promptly shut up.

Silence reigned for a total of ten seconds until DeeDee turned to me and grabbed my arm to tow me off, calling over her shoulder, "I'm taking Andi and we're going to ride the roller coaster and you two can go on the lame Ferris wheel!"

Will snorted, grabbed Carlos's arm and dragged him the other way. You could hear Carlos protesting the whole way, too ("But I don't WANT to go on the Ferris Wheel, can't I go with them? Ow, Will, that hurts, lemme go, ow!") and then they turned a corner.

Once DeeDee and I got out of their sight and hearing range, she dropped my arm. "Wanna go get a funnel cake?"

I glanced at her knowingly. "Scared of the coaster?" We stood at the end of the relatively short line. "Powdered sugar and chocolate syrup?"

"Damn right I am. There's no way that thing is safe. They're constructed and destructed in an hour, I don't think they'll hold up under a ton of screaming kids." DeeDee informed me, pulling a pink makeup compact out of her ever-present tote. "And yes, please. Are we splitting?" She flipped open the lid of her compact and fluffed her hair. She then pressed her finger onto the pink "eye shadow" and the mirror turned into a little map, complete with four flashing red dots that represented us 3Ps.

"Wanted to go because Will would've liked it?" I asked, then thought about the funnel cake. "Can we not split? Or will that mean a few dozen more laps around the track?"

"Pretty much, yeah. And I think I can let it slide this once. It's our night off. Tomorrow night, you do that, I'm making you run five between here and Gallagher. And I'll get Will and Carlos too, if they try anything stupid, like I'm pretty sure they are now…what exactly are they doing at the kiddie rides? Are Will and Carlos sitting their sibs?"

"Why don't you just tell him you like him? And aww…really? Harshness! And I really have no clue. I think Will mentioned something about spending some time with Bailey and Dominic." Bailey was Will's adorable younger brother, and as I said before, Dominic was Carlos's younger brother. We were at the window now, and I ordered. "Um, two funnel cakes, powdered sugar and chocolate syrup on both, whipped cream on one."

"Both, actually." DeeDee chimed in, tucking her pseudo compact back into her purse.

"Okay, that'll be six dollars." Lily Carter, one of my classmates was the girl behind the booth. "How're you guys? You're always so busy with…what was it?"

"Advanced Academics Placement." DeeDee answered absently, pulling her white leather Hello Kitty wallet out of her tote. She unzipped it and pulled a five and a one out, handed Lily the money and plopped it right back into her bag. It was a red, pink, yellow and orange tote with hearts and Mickey Mouse faces on it—and she almost never let it out of her sight. I had to wake her up one morning and she was cuddling it in her sleep. I do that with my green shoulder bag when it's not necessary to dress up, but DeeDee's is kinda weird. During missions, stuff that we need randomly is found in there—we call it DeeDee's bag of tricks. We haven't figured out how it all fits in there—and we're not really asking, either.

"Right, right." Lily nodded while I tried to protest DeeDee paying.

"Shut up, Andi, it's my treat. So, Lily, how's cheerleading going for you? The squad's really tough on underclassman and newbies. You holding up okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. Thanks for those self-defense tips, though."

We chatted with Lily for a while until our funnel cakes were ready, then waved and headed off.

We sat on a bench and picked at the funnel cakes. I scooped the whipped cream off with my fingers and licked it off while DeeDee ate more neatly.

The two of us were as close as me and Caity, if not closer. DeeDee's about a year and a half older, fifteen going on sixteen in like three weeks, October sixteenth, in fact. Caity's always been busy and DeeDee's been my best friend since forever. Well, kinda. Carlos is my best guy friend, but DeeDee's my girl friend. You can't exactly talk to your male partner about monthly female issues. They just don't understand.

We sat and watched the people, laughing and chatting. We blended like we belonged because…well, we did belong. This was our home. Then something occurred to me.

"Weren't you going to meet up with Josh, Dillon and Keith?" I asked as I finished the last bit of funnel cake on my flimsy paper plate.

DeeDee smacked her hand to her forehead. "Yes!" she groaned. "I totally forgot! And Will's going to be there! Crap, this is not good." She looked at me out of the corner of her eye. "Andi…"

"No! Not again! I'm not lying to my brothers."

"But…but…but…Andi!" she whined.

"No! You're going to have to face him at some point, might as well do it now! And this way, he can't yell at you about the roller coaster thing."

DeeDee just grinned wickedly.