Author's Note: Hello fellow SW-fic-readers. I love Secret Window, adore Mort Rainey (HELL YEAH BABY!!), so I decided to take a stab at writing an SW fic. I know this completely sucks, and is most likely a load of crap, but take a look anyway. Thanksverymuch.

Disclaimer: I do not own Secret Window, neither the oh-so-sexy Mort Rainey. Well, he's really Johnny Depp, but I don't own him either. Damn. I'm depressed.

It doesn't matter. I don't care. It's just a spur-of-the-moment thing, and there is NOTHING wrong with that. I deserve this. I don't care if they think I'm insane.

Driving up the familiar road towards my deceased Aunt's cottage, 1902 White Oak Road, Tashmore Lake, I mentally battled with my mind, trying to convince myself that I wasn't going to regret what I planned to do. It's not like it was anything drastic, it was just... sudden. Just that morning I decided to pack up and spend a week at the cottage. I don't have anything TO regret. What am I thinking? Just relax! That's what I'm supossed to be doing anyway! Geez... I have really got to stop all this overanalizing... finally, the cottage came into view. I pulled into the driveway, put on the brakes, turned it off, and climbed out of my red VW Beetle and walked towards the little house. It felt so refreshing to be at a place that held so many happy memories, but not without the hint of grief from my Aunt Claire's death. We were really close, my Aunt and I. I spent every summer of my teenage years with her. Just me and her. Sarah Carlson and Claire Simmons. "Girlfriends of Da Lake". Oh my God, I thought. If I let her say that, we must have been close.

Before I went to the door, I quickly walked around the house to the backyard. I HAD to see the lake. That was most of the reason I came out there. After my (only) brother died in a car accident, driving drunk, and my Aunt having passed away (she fell down the stairs and broke her neck), ALSO myself loosing my job, all in one month, I was feeling depressed. Also, myself having a very 'depressing' childhood/teenage years, and having almost comitted suicide once when I was thirteen, it was anything but a nice change to have it all return.

I had to get away from all the stress of the city; I had to escape and clear my head. My (very few) friends tried to stop me from going--afraid I was going to do something drastic. I eventually convinced them I wouldn't, but... I still hadn't made up my mind yet.

When I reached the last corner of the house and ran around it, I sighed. There was the lake. My beautiful lake. My escape.

A full moon was up, its glittering reflection shining briliantly on the still water. So full of beauty. So romantic. So tempting. I sat down by the edge of the shore, not caring about getting the seat of my pants getting slightly wet. I needed to think. That's why I came.

As I sat there on the damp ground, feeling the water inbetween my toes, letting my eyes get lost in the beauty of the shimmering lake, seeing the millions of stars and a single bright moon, I couldn't think. I didn't want to think. It was all too peaceful to ruin with my problems. Completely not thinking, I decided to do something I hadn't done in way too long: I was going to go for a swim. Being a very artsy slash sensitive slash 'mental' girl in all my twenty-two years, it was something I used to do quite a lot as a kind of therapy. Hey, it worked.

Starting to get a little excited--another feeling I hadn't experienced in a long time-- I stripped down to my plain white bra and panties, and slowly walked in. Now I know I'm insane. It was probably fourty-five degrees out, a cold breeze was blowing, and the water felt like ice. I was going to freeze to death, I knew. Nevertheless, I continued to walk in. I HAD been in worse. It had too much of a hold over me! I waded in to my knees, which wasn't so hard to get used to, but as soon as the water reached my thighs, it became harder. Just wanting to get it over with, plunge right in, and swim until midnight (it was eleven o'clock at the time), I just forced my entire body under the water. The fluid stung my bare skin, but I enjoyed it. I re-surfaced, my long red hair plastered to my skin, and began to swim to the deeper part of the lake--near the center where the moon was shining. Once again, it had too much of a hold on me. It was then that I realized that my clothes and food and such were still in my car, I hadn't even unlocked the house yet, and my clothes now lay jumbled up in a pile in the backyard. Yep, I was stupid. Therefore, that added a tint of guiltiness to my SUPOSSED TO BE relaxing swim.

God, it was cold. I now lay afloat in almost the exact center of the lake, staring up at the moon. I closed my eyes for a minute, just savoring the moment. Then, I realized how heavy my body felt. How my eyes didn't want to open. How my feet couldn't reach the bottom of the lake. It scared me. Forcing my eyes open, and vigorously moved my arms and legs so I could help stay afloat. I did, but my body got even heavier. I didn't know what it was: lack of sleep for a few days, the coldness of the water, the overwelming peacefulness of the moment, or all of the above-- but I couldn't hardly keep my head above the surface. I knew I should've felt fear (hey, I should've been panicing), but I was merely bothered. Like I said, I didn't care what happened to me. I was depressed. I didn't fear death. It seemed rather inviting at times. But like I said, I wasn't thinking.

I started giving less and less effort to keeping myself afloat, and eventually just let my head go under.

Goodbye, I gurgled from underneath the water. And I let myself sink. Sink. After what seemed like forever and my head feeling very light (I was holding my breath and I didn't even know it), I hit the bottom of the lake. I waited until my body lie completely flat on the dirty lakebed before opening my eyes. Water rushed up under my eyelids, making them sting a little. Looking up, I could see a blurry version of the moon and its reflection on the water's surface above me. So calm. So relaxing. So beautiful.

Suddenly, a jolt of sanity and reality hit me. What the hell was I doing? I was going to drown! I was drowning!

Now in a state of panic, I moved my body furiously through the thick lake water, gasping for the surface. My limbs tired, and my need for air became unbearable. I pushed and kicked and slapped the water as hard as I could, getting closer to the surface ever so slowly. Suddenly having a TERRIBLE objection to death and dying, I got closer to the surface. Almost there... almost there...

Finally, I reached the surface. But only for a split second. I gasped for air, kicking and flapping with all of my strength just so I could get one more ounce of air into my lungs. I was in trouble. My ordeal had tired me out considerably, and I cursed at myself (mentally) for being so stupid as to go for a swim in fourty-five degree weather, when I hadn't slept in three days, and hadn't even been in good shape. How utterly stupid could I get? Obvisously, so stupid as to cost me my life.

Not wanting to die anymore, I decided (in a panic) to try and save myself. But I was getting weak, so I needed help. I started screaming.

I let out four blood-curdling screams before my entire body felt like it was going to shut down. My head went under again. Feeling like I had to let out just one last scream, one more, I pushed with every last bit of energy in me, resurfaced, and let out the shrillest scream I had ever heard myself scream. Then I went under again. Having absolutely no strength left at all to move, I just sunk. Then I realized the peril of my situation. This was Tasmore Lake. Town of what, one hundred? No one would hear me. Especially in this part of the town. Very, very few people lived here, and I didn't know how loud my screams were to someone a mile away. It was hopeless. Everything went dark, but not before I caught a glimpse of irregular movement in the waves...

I looked around me. I was surrounded by white. I felt a strange sense of peace. Laying next to me was a man. A handsome man. He smiled at me, and leaned over. I didn't object as our lips came closer. They met. But, instead of a kiss, he blew into my mouth...'What the heck?'...

The next thing I knew, I was coughing violently. Whoever had their mouth on my own pulled away. My eyes were shut tightly as I continued to cough up lake water; it stung my throat. Above the noise of my retching, a worried (male) voice said,

"Thank God. Cough it out, get it out of there..." a hand patted/rubbed my shoulder as I continued coughing. I barely noticed how cold I was; after all, I was NUMB. After I finished coughing, I rolled on my side and caught my breath for a minute, then turned my head to look at my rescuer, saying,

"W-what happened? Who are you?" I was a little pleased at what I saw. A handsome man sat on his knees beside me, dripping wet with his shirt off. I couldn't really tell in the darkness, but he had attractively high cheekbones, longish hair (I coudn't tell what color), a toned chest, and was of average height. He let out a sigh of relief,

"I'm Mort. Mort Rainey. You were drowning out there. I heard someone screaming, so I decide to check it out... and there you were. Ehm..." he trailed off, sneaking a glance at my attire. I blushed. "What were you doing?" I wanted to answer, but I was incredibly dizzy, my head ached, my heart pounded, and I was exhausted. I blacked out.

The next time I woke up, I was curled up on a soft couch, bundled up in at least four blankets, with a glowing fire alight in a fireplace in front of me. I shivered a little, despite the warmth.

"M-Mr. Rainey?" I squeaked. I sat up on the couch and looked around. I was in a cabin-type looking house, with all the traditional cabin-type furnishings. Actually looked a lot like my Aunt's cabin. Enough said. Anyway, I heard footsteps coming down the stairs behind me.

"Hey. I just left for a minute to change--" Mr. Rainey said, sprinting over and sitting next to me on the couch.

"Oh no, no, no, that's fine. Um... what... happened... this... time?" I asked, feeling embarassed. A light blush appeared on his cheeks as he answered, scratching the back of his neck for a second,

"You erm... blacked out, so I carried you in here to... get you warmed up..." The way he said it was almost apologetic. That puzzled me a little. I answered,

"Well I, don't know what to say. I mean, you saved my life--" He chuckled a little and smiled bashfully. It was cute. "I don't know how to thank you. I mean, not only did you get me out of that lake, but you brought me here. Most guys would like, rape me while I was unconscious or something..." I couldn't believe what I just said. That did NOT sound like something I'd normally say. Mr. Rainey flinched for a second, and I realized what I said wasn't needed. Knowing from experience that it's better to take back (well, sort of) what you realize wasn't something to say instead of leaving it hanging, I said, "Okay. Forget I said that." He still looked a little uncertain, but he smiled a little. He had a nice smile. I adjusted the blankets around me, and as I did so one of them slipped a bit, showing my bare shoulder and strap. I turned pink and pretended to ignore Mr. Rainey's peek at it. At least, it felt like he noticed it.

"So, uh, seeing as how I 'saved you', might I ask what your name is?"

"Oh! Yes of course. I'm Sarah. Sarah Carlson." I said. He stuck out his hand. "I think we're past that, Mr. Rainey," I chuckled. He did so, too.

"Right. Yeah, you can just call me Mort."

"Okay. Mort. Hey, can I call you Morty?" He raised his eyebrows. "I'm kidding!" Okay you've officially made an idiot out of yourself in front of the pretty man.

"Uh-huh... anyway, I still didn't get an answer: what were you doing?" I blushed, AGAIN.

"Well, it's kind of a long story..."

"I don't mind. That is, unless you have something to do and need to get home."

"Well..." I sighed. I didn't have anything to do and if he didn't mind... "All right."

I speant the next fifteen minutes telling him about my brother, my aunt, the cottage, why I came up, why I went into the lake, what happened, etc. I felt surprisingly comfortable revealing all of this to him, as he was a very good listener. Didn't interupt once. When I finished my tale, he sighed,

"Wow." I just nodded. I glanced at the clock on the wall; it read 12:30am.

"Um, I better get going," I said. He looked like he just snapped out of a trance.

"Right. Is there anything I can do to help?" I hid a flirty smile that tickled my lips. Ah heck, might as well. It's not as if I'm going to see him again.

"You've done far more than enough," I said. "You saved my life." I scooted closer and flung my arms around him. Okay, maybe I exaggerated a teensy bit with the thankfulness, but hey, whatever. I squeezed him softly but firmly, and he, surprised, returned the embrace. Before pulling away, I put a few fake tears of joy in my eyes, and kissed him on the cheek. Well, even though I didn't feel that grateful, I wanted him to feel like I was really thankful for what he'd done. He was a good man. He deserved it--something told me he didn't do that kind of thing too often. I pulled away and smiled. He did, too; shyly. I was about to take off the blankets when I realized what I was wearing. This time I managed to keep from blushing, but it still felt awkward. "Um... I'm not exactly wearing appropriate clothing..." He blushed. He looked so cute when he blushed. I was on the verge of stopping myself when I thought, You're most likely not going to see this guy again. Don't worry about it. You can think he's cute if you want to. Completely safe. Heck, you can even think he's sexy. That thought in particular stuck. He was kind of sexy. Did you see him without his shirt? Damn. I shook those thoughts out of my head and listened to what Mort began to say,

"I could lend you some of my clothes to go home in, if you'd like."

"Thanks, I would appreciate that."

"Great. Hold on a second, I'll go get some..." He got up from the couch and padded up the stairs. I sighed, yawning at the same time. For once, I felt content enough to sleep. It was incredibly hard to keep my eyes open as I waited for Mort to return; even though it was only about thirty seconds. He padded down the stairs again, holding a black sweater and a pair of blue jeans. He brought them over and said,

"You can change in the bathroom--it's right over there." He motioned towards a small bathroom underneath the stairs. I took the clothes and stood up, one of the blankets still around me, thanked him, and went to the bathroom to change. I got in, shut the door, and began putting his clothes on. They were both a little big on me, of course, but I didn't mind. As I slipped the sweater over my head, I got a good whiff of it. It smelled like cologne. Niiiiice cologne. I had a feeling I was going to be sniffing that sweater a few more times before the night was over. As soon as I was dressed, I gathered up the blanket in my arms and walked out. Mort was leaning against the back of the couch, and straightened when I came out. I smiled, walked over, and placed the blanket in his arms. He set it on the couch and turned back to me. There was an awkward silence, so I said,

"Yeah, so uh... thanks for the clothes. I'll return them tomorrow after I unpack. Is that okay?"

"Yeah, sure. Take all the time you need," he replied with a little smile. I returned the little smile, holding back a much larger one. I need to get out of this guy's presence quick. Before I melt right in front of him.

"Okay. Thanks again. I'll never be able to thank you enough." This time, I actually saw a flicker of pride reflect off his face. Mission acomplished.

"No problem. Are you sure you don't want me to help you home?"

"No, that's okay. You've done enough. Well, I guess I'll see you tomorrow." I headed towards the door, and he followed.

"All right--see you tomorrow."

I opened the door, and with one last smile, I walked out and shut it behind me. The cold air chilled my face and ears, but the rest of my body kept warm, courtesy of Mort. Taking a deep breath as I considered everything that had just happened, I started down the path to my cottage. I looked back at Mort's house, and saw him looking at me through the kitchen window. He waved, and I waved back.

Author's Note: Yup... there you are. I have no idea if I'll continue this or not (most likely not), but I do have a few ideas... gah. Forget I said that ;). Before you review, YES I know the whole "depressed" thing is used often, but I had to get her in the water. AND I know that her reactions are a little... I don't know... not realistic. AND I know that she's a little... gah nevermind. Lol. I know this is complete crap, so feel free to flame, or do whatever. Just drop me a review. Adios amigos.

IwantMortRainey'sHair (I do. Badly!)