Hi everyone,

This is an idea I've had for a while, a Lost/Alias crossover, but I haven't ever actually written one. So here goes, and please review to tell me what you think.

Kate and Sawyer worked together to break into a bank in L.A, for something more than just money (I just don't know what yet) and they were caught by someone Kate knew. Kate was put in jail, and now the CIA is questioning her about the thing that they were trying to steal, which is where Sydney comes in. A J.J Abrams mix, because, of course, he is a freaking genius, along with some other people's help. All characters belong to them, not me. The time is around seasons 1 & 2 of both shows, so the raft worked for the Losties, and they were rescued a while ago. And I haven't gotten any farther than season 2 with my Alias watching(I'm terrible, sorry), so I apologize if I forget something.

Enjoy, and please review. (hopefully you can read this if you haven't seen both of the shows, but it might be easier if you have)

Okay. I'll shut up now.

Thank you in advance for reading, you guys are the best 

Love, Kate

Kate spun straight through the revolving door of the bank as if this were any other normal day, though with every step her heart beat faster, almost begging her to turn back. But is was much too late for that.

She walked straight to the front desk and took a deep breath. There was a woman wearing a headset, her eyes locked on the paper she was scribbling madly on with a pen that was slowly dying scribble by scribble.

She took a deep breath before she spoke. Even then her voice came out choked and broken.

"Hi, I'm here for a meeting with-"

"Be with you in a minute," the woman said sharply, making Kate jump. But then, anything would have made her jump, and her heart was beating so fast she thought that she would explode. When you're that nervous, you become twice as aware at everything around you, as if everything you see is after you.

She thought the mailman was looking at her through the window. Every time footsteps tapped against the marble floor she thought they were coming after her. It felt like the whole world was watching her every move. Even the sound of the scribbling pen scratching away startled her.

"Hello?"

Kate gasped. It was the woman at the desk, looking up at her impatiently.

"Y-yes," she stammered. "I'm here for a meeting with a Mr. Carlson about a new bank account. She recited the same words they had practiced over and over, always staying up later because Kate kept insisting that they needed it. She hoped she was right.

"Name," the woman asked with a bored drawl.

"Olivia Wells," Kate recited, trying with every sound to believe it was her own, that she was someone other than herself. She knew that Olivia Wells couldn't be crazy enough to do something this stupid. Maybe if Kate tried to become her she wouldn't be Kate Austen anymore, and she'd just disappear into a different life.

"That's insane," she told herself silently.

"Follow me," the woman said in a curt voice that instantly cut right through Kate's thoughts back into reality. She led Kate to a desk by a large window looking out on the city. "He'll be right with you," she said, gesturing to a big red leather chair next to the desk.

"Thanks," Kate whispered, forcing a meek smile.

She stared at the chair for a minute as if she was unsure about what to do with it, but she couldn't sit. She could feel him watching her from somewhere, and then she wanted nothing more then to look for him, for something that told her he was okay. God, she had known this was a bad idea. She kept getting a feeling that would wake her in the middle of the night, some voice screaming in the back of her head that they couldn't do it.

She had woken up in the middle of the night last night almost screaming from a nightmare.

"You okay, Freckles?" his voice whispered to her in the darkness of their tiny apartment.

She shook her head hard. "Nightmare."

"You okay?" he asked.

"Sawyer-" she choked the words back, but she could feel him looking at her with that same look even through the blackness between them. "I don't think we should do this."

She felt his arms fold around her, and for the first time she felt herself pulling away. "I can't."

She could almost see a smile of disbelief on his face. "Course you can, Freckles! You kidding me? You done this before, right?"

"That was different." Kate said, her voice trailing off as she realized what she had said. It had been different, the time she had robbed a bank with Jason, her old boyfriend. She had lied to him, made him believe it was his idea. But the one thing that made it different was that then, she had hardly been afraid. She didn't care about Jason, if he went to jail. But she cared about Sawyer.

Kate hung her head as the words echoed in her head. She cared. God, why did she have to tell herself that now, when tomorrow they might be putting their lives in danger?

"You know we won't go if you don't want to," he whispered, stroking her hair.

She tried to say it that night, say what was on her mind, what she had to tell him, finally say she cared. But every time, the words got caught in her throat.

"No," she whispered, "I'm ready."

Kate's eyes blinked open, startled by the sound of a car stuck in the streets. She didn't think she could wait anymore, she had to do something. She paced back and forth across the giant window before she stopped and pressed her hands to the glass, almost hoping that it would disappear and let her fall.

"You're going crazy," she told herself.

"Are you Miss Wells?" an old, shaky voice asked from behind her.

Kate forced a smile as she turned to face an old man dressed in a brown suit with a crooked grin. "Yes, I'm here about-"

Her voice trailed past a whisper when she saw eyes that were truly staring at her from behind a sharp corner. Eyes from her past. Eyes that she knew would always recognize hers. Jason.

Her eyes widened as she looked from his eyes down to his fist. Clenched in his fingers was a gun.

Sydney's car screeched into her spot in the parking garage of Credit Dauphine, Headquarters of SD-6. Now, even looking at the silver letters on that sign made her sick. Everyone, more then half the people she worked with everyday, had been deceived. They had all thought they were working for the CIA, one of the most amazing jobs you can have to help your own country. But now Sydney knew the truth. They were working for the enemy, they had been lied to by her own boss, Arvin Sloane. And one day, Sydney was going to destroy them, SD-6. That was why she was now a double agent for the CIA.

Sydney walked briskly through the headquarters, almost late for a meeting about a new mission from Sloane. She was trying not to run. She'd never been late for a meeting before, and she wasn't about to start today.

"Hey, Syd."

Her partner, Dixon's voice reached her from down the hall.

"Hey." Syd smiled. Dixon had been with her for almost every mission she had ever been on. He was the one who knew her better than anyone at SD-6, even better than her own father, Jack.

"You heading to Sloane's meeting, right?"

Syd nodded. "You heard anything?" She never had any idea where they were going. For all she knew, tomorrow she could be on the other side of the world.

"Somethin' about a bank robbery, or an attempted one," Dixon said as he jogged to keep up with her.

"Where?" Syd asked, ready to get on a plane to Morocco and call her roommate with another one of those stories about a business trip for the "bank" she worked at.

"Here." She stopped and looked at him. "Yeah, weird huh? Apparently it's got something to do with a fugitive they've been after. Anyway, they're sending somebody."

Syd was confused as she opened the door to the meeting room. Usually she was off in Africa searching for atomic bombs, not at home catching bank robbers. It didn't make any sense.

Sloane sat in his chair at the head of the table, ready to begin the meeting. Syd glared at him, trying not to think about how much she wanted him dead, and SD-6 with him.

"Now," Sloane said, clearing his throat, "if anyone remembers, there was a bank robbery in New Mexico a few years back. Katherine Austen-" a mug shot of a girl with freckles and wavy dark hair flashed up on the tv screens around the room, "broke in for a safety deposit box."

"Hey, I saw that girl on tv last night!" Marshall, the technical guy said excitedly. "The one from that plane, right?"

"Yes," Sloane said firmly over Marshall's excitement. "Katherine Austen was on Flight 815, being brought back here to Los Angeles in the custody of a U.S Marshal, who did not survive the crash."

"Wait," Syd called, raising her hand into the air. "You said she broke in for a safe deposit box?"

Sloane nodded. "Not what your typical thief would be after in a bank full of money, right? But yes, she did. She also killed her stepfather, a man named Wayne, the first crime she committed. But last week-" with a click of a button the picture changed to a man with long, shaggy blond hair and bright green eyes "she was seen with this man, James Ford, went by the name of Sawyer. He was a conman for years, stealing hundreds of dollars. He even paid his way out of jail.

"But last week," Sloane repeated, "they were both seen at a bank outside of Los Angeles, ready to steal something. That bank holds more then just money. Files, different papers that could mean a fortune, we don't know everything that could be in there. But they were after something."

"Are they in custody?" someone asked, gesturing to James Ford's picture.

Sloane slowly shook his head. "No. Ford was shot, by who we think is one of Austen's old friends that showed up. She escaped, and now she's got almost every police force in California looking for her."

"Any idea where she is?" a voice from the back of the room piped up.

Another head shake. "No, and she was on the run for a couple of years before the plane crash, so she's not easy to find."

"What do you want us to do?" Syd asked, still confused.

"Find her." Syd stared back at Sloane for a minute, a question of disbelief in her eyes. Is it really that simple? "And don't underestimate this one, Syd, she gets away every time." Syd shuddered at the feeling that he could read her mind, and she tried to erase her thoughts from him.

"We need to find her first, because we need her to tell us what they were after, it could be important. Syd, start at the bank. See if you can find anything in the tapes from the security cameras. You can meet Marshall (Marshall excitedly waved his arm, as if Syd was across a football field from him and had forgotten who he was in the last five minutes) in his office at two for some tools to help you get information from the tapes. You'll bring Dixon with you, as always. Do you understand?"

"Yes," Syd said with a nod.

"That's all."

It was a lie, she didn't understand, she didn't understand what this girl had been after, what had happened to her, or what it had to do with SD-6 at all. Thoughts kept racing through her head as she sat in a park bench, scribbling a note to Vaughn, her handler at the CIA. That was how she talked to him most of the time, a scribbled note on a paper bag. Sometimes, she found herself wishing it was more.

Vaughn, she wrote, then pulled her pen from the scrunched brown paper to find her hand shaking. Just writing his name made her breath catch in her throat, her hands shake. What the hell are you thinking? she screamed at herself. She wasn't supposed to feel like this.

She pushed the thoughts out of her head and locked them away, stratching the pen on the paper bag into words again.

Had a meeting with Sloane today, about a bank robbery in L.A. Someone named Katherine Austen broke in, with a guy named James Ford. You've probably heard of them from the plane crash, the survivors that were rescued from the island a few months ago. He was a conman, she killed her stepfather. He served time but bought his way out, and she was a fugitive. They broke in, and Ford was shot by some guy Austen knew. Now she's on the run again and Sloane wants me to find her, because he thinks she might have been after something more than just money. I'm starting at the bank here, looking through tapes from that day and to see if I can find anything else.

So what's my countermission?

She ended it with the same familiar line and a curved S before she crumpled it up and tossed it into the nearby trashcan. She knew sometime soon that he would be walking down the same path as her to pick it up, he could even be watching her right now. She closed her eyes to stop the thoughts like flashing city lights in her head. Tomorrow evening she was going to the bank to try to make some sense of all this. She slowly walked home, knowing that she had no idea what lay ahead of her in the next day. But then again, she never did.