Probability

A/N-For all those Red Eye fans who don't really follow Lost, you can still understand this story. This fic is mainly Red Eye with interactions from Lost. You may not get some of the random stuff I throw in (ex. the manual man you'll read about in this chapter) and some of the island plot, but mostly it's going to be Lisa & Jack stuck on a deserted island and trying to sort out their relationship. Thanks for reading and please review!

Chapter One

"Wow… I guess you're kind of famous now."

Lisa, wrapped in an old blanket, looked up from the window of her father's house and smiled at Cynthia, accepting one of the coffee mugs in her hands. Blowing on the steaming cup, she turned her gaze back to the hordes of reporters crowded on the front lawn.

"They'll just stay until the next big story comes along. Until then, I'm on house arrest."

Cynthia's eyebrows shot up. "You're not giving them any interviews? They'll give you, like, a million dollars for one! You could even write a book-"

"Cynthia" Lisa interrupted softly. "I don't want to do any of that. I just want it to be over and done with. I want to go back to normal." Even as the words left her mouth, she knew that it was impossible. Normalcy was something that could never be attained after the few hours she had just spent. Deep down inside, Lisa wondered if she really did want to go back to normal. She didn't dare ponder the subject-she had no idea what the result would be.

Cynthia looked slightly concerned at her friend's distant expression. "What was it like?" she ventured softly. "You know, the plane...your house…."

Lisa shook her head. "It was……." Terrifying. Traumatizing. Exhilarating.

"…..different. It was different."

Her friend patted her hand in an attempt to comfort her. "Hey, don't worry," she started, in an attempt to be lighthearted. "If the bastard's not dead from all the holes you put in him, he's probably rotting in a maximum security cell. You'll never see him again."

You'll never see him again. Lisa wondered if she should find that statement comforting or depressing. In the short burst of time that her life had been intertwined with Jackson Rippner's, she had discovered a part of herself she never knew she had. Jackson had revealed another Lisa; a bold, aggressive, slightly violent woman who was nothing like the paranoid hotel manager whose body she had lived in for the past four years.

Trying to fit into that body again was like trying on a dress that was only half a size off- familiar, but slightly uncomfortable.

Far down, below the layers of rationality that had commanded her life, Lisa had what Jackson would call a "Female Driven Emotion-Based Logic" feeling, or simply a gut instinct. She would see Jackson again. Small obstacles like sustaining mortal injuries or being arrested wouldn't stand in his way if he was determined to find her. His words from a few hours ago haunted her.

"You know, when this is over I might have to steal you."

Jackson would come back. Of this Lisa was certain, though she didn't want to know if this idea created hope or dread.

But when the time came, she would be prepared.

--------------------------------------------

THREE YEARS LATER

Maliciously cursing airports for the millionth time in her head, Lisa groaned and ran her hands through her already-frazzled hair in frustrations. "I'm sorry, I just wasn't prepared for this."

The annoyingly cheery woman working the flight counter gave her an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry too, dear," she chirped in a blithe Australian accent that made Lisa want to strangle her. "But there's no other flights to Miami until tomorrow. I would suggest getting a hotel room for the night before they're all filled up."

Lisa sighed. "Could you give me a layover to somewhere else near Miami?"

The woman tapped a few keys on her computer and frowned. "The only flights I can get you to the United States that aren't filled are Flight 456 to New Mexico and Flight 815 to Los Angeles."

Lisa made a split-second decision. The Los Angeles airport was larger, and thus probably had more flights to Miami. She had no idea what kind of consequences her decision would bring in the near future.

"I'll take a ticket for Flight 815."

The annoying airport lady beamed and handed her a ticket. Lisa accepted the blue, shiny envelope and wearily handed her a credit card. Unfortunately, it looked as if her night was far from over, but at the moment she couldn't care less. Right now she just wanted to leave this country and all the memories it bestowed upon her in her short visit there as soon as possible.

Walking briskly to her terminal, Lisa saw with tired delight that she had come just at the right moment: it looked as if the flight had just begun to board. She wouldn't have to sit in the uncomfortable airport chairs and worry herself into a mess about the upcoming flight.

This wasn't her first flight since Jackson. It wasn't even her second, or third. After the "Keefe Incident", as everyone but herself called it, Lisa had been determined to continue with her job as if nothing had happened, in an effort to force herself to go back to who she was before Jackson. She made an effort to travel, to fly again for work purposes, even against her family and friends' wary warnings. It was as if she was trying to dilute the memory of the Red Eye flight with other nameless flights afterward, to give it less meaning.

She still, however, was petrified of flying. And lucky for her, her ticket was directly in the back row. Right where the wheels come up underneath your feet.

Since they seemed to be boarding back to front, Lisa skillfully maneuvered herself through the faceless mass of people to slide through the ticket check, passport and ticket at hand.

Walking down the narrow blue carpetway of the plane, Lisa nearly tripped over a glossy flight safety manual. She picked it up from the ground and turned to the bald man sitting directly to the left of it, one of the few people on the plane before her.

"Excuse me, is this yours?"

The man looked up and gazed at her outstretched hand with a mixture of longing, anger and helplessness. "Yes, that's mine. Thank you."

Smiling warily, Lisa walked quickly past him and down the stretching aisle to one of the last rows. Checking her ticket again, she slid past a tough-looking Hispanic woman and into the third seat in the middle column.

As the plane slowly filled with people around her, Lisa leaned back in her seat and tried to relax. She dug out some aspirin from her purse along with a bottle of water, and quickly swallowed three of them. The medicine would help her pounding headache, and had the useful side affect of making her extremely drowsy. She really didn't like being at her most alert at moments like these.

As the plane began to move, breaking away from the airport, Lisa simply wished to drift away for the next eight hours and closed her eyes tightly. Cerulean blue eyes stared at her behind her closed eyelids, and Lisa let a small sigh escape her lips before hazy blackness welcomed her.

She was jolted out of her sleep by a rough bout of turbulence, causing her to blink and sit up, disoriented. She really needed to start cutting back on her aspirin doses. As the plane's bouncing lessened, she suddenly felt the urge to use the bathroom, and shuffling out of her row, she started carefully down the aisle. The bathroom in front of her section was locked, and Lisa had to continue down the swaying carpetway, clutching the handrests of seats occasionally.

In her slightly disoriented journey, Lisa failed to notice that she had attracted the attention of a familiar pair of inquisitive blue eyes, following her to the bathroom.

Finally, at the midsection of the plane Lisa found an unlocked stall and stumbled in, relieving herself and splashing water on her sleepy face. As she became more alert, she made a face at herself in the mirror at the state of her unruly hair and clumped mascara.

"You're a mess, Lisa." she said tiredly to her reflection, knowing that she meant more than her momentary appearance.

Combing her hair halfheartedly with her fingers and wiping her eyes, she unlocked the tiny bathroom door and swung it open.

And found herself facing a pair of cerulean blue eyes in a moment of deja-vu that forced her to take an involuntary step back.

The man attached to the eyes took a step forward. As many times as Lisa had imagined this moment, she always created Jackson wearing his trademark evil smirk when he finally tracked her down. But now, Jackson's face was spread in a look of complete astonishment that she'd never seen on him before.

"Leese?" he blurted out, reaching a hand toward her that she automatically flinched away from.

At that moment, the plane seemed to leap from the sky, giving a gigantic jolt that sent Lisa flying into the arms of Jackson Rippner and into a situation that she was definitely not prepared for.

-------------------------------------------------

Thank you so much for reading! Please review-constructive critisism is greatly appreciated! If you're confused about the Lost crossover, please see the author's note at the top.