I had an idea...and then I did a thing. Yup. I ship CarLilly hard, and I noticed a lack of it on this site, so I decided to fix it! I have some drabbles in mind as well. Also, if you are, ya know, against this for some reason, this is definitely not your territory. :l

Anyways, this was very fun for me to write! It pretty much did it itself, festering inside my brain and annoying me until I actually started typing it. This particular piece of writing was very demanding (mostly because when I think it's Lilly's voice inside my head).

Lilly: Hey! *glares*

I mean, it was very pleasant and nice all the time. *whispers* Please don't kill me!

Yeah, they are a little OOC. Sorry 'bout that! But I figured in and AU Lilly would be more pleasant (plus, drunk Lilly is happy {and stubborn} Lilly!). Carley is more like me, since most of it is from her POV.

Alright, I've been boring you long enough (unless if you guys don't read this, which I wouldn't blame you ;D).

I don't own The Walking Dead or any of its characters. :C

...

Carley swung open the door to her apartment, kicking it closed with her foot. She fell onto her couch in a heap, a frustrated groan escaping her lips. She had been at work all fucking day. Her bitch of a boss made her do a report on some murder case, and if that wasn't enough, she hung around Carley's shoulders all day, evaluating everything she did, every internet search, every phone call. Carley didn't even get to go on the air, her boss saying it was "to show her being a reporter was more than being pretty for a camera". That bitch. Now it was almost one in the morning, and she had just gotten home.

Carley sat up on her couch and leaned forward with her elbows on her knees. She sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose.

She needed a beer.

She stood up and headed for the kitchen. Being an apartment, the kitchen was small, barely big enough for the fridge and the oven with a small counter between. Her friends said it fit her, although she didn't really see why.

She grabbed the handle to the fridge and pulled the door open. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the light. When they did, she scanned the shelves.

Half a carton of eggs, barely any milk, several apples, wilted-looking lettuce, empty bottle of coffee creamer, leftover spaghetti from god-knows-when, fancy cheese I got after my promotion that I should probably throw out...

...no beer.

Carley gave another angry sigh. All of the stores close by had probably closed hours ago, and there was no way she was going far away just for a six-pack of beer.

Carley rubbed the back of her neck. There was a pub down the street...but Carley had never really been one for going out to get a drink. In fact, she didn't drink that often, and most of the time it was for special occasions (or stressful occasions). Well, maybe a little more often than that on really bad days. But being around a bunch of drunk people really wasn't her scene.

But there was really no other option. Carley closed the fridge and walked into her bedroom, which she thought was very appropriately named because of the fact she could only fit her bed in there. She reached under her bed, searching for something more casual to wear than her work clothes; she kept all of her clothes under the bed in neat piles.

She picked out a green T-shirt and a pair of jeans she had owned for years. Nobody would really notice that she looked like she just rolled out of bed, right?

She paused a moment. It would be chilly outside; it was the middle of the night. She grabbed her purple coat and pulled it on. She left her room after grabbing her wallet and cellphone, then hurried out the door, but still made sure she locked it behind her and shoved the keys into her pants pocket.

When the chilly night air hit her, she was glad she was smart enough to bring a coat. Luckily, the pub was close and she didn't have to use her car (she might not have been able to drive to back, anyway). The walk was nice and calmed her down quite a bit. She was still dreading tomorrow, though, and could still definitely use a drink.

The place was lit up and she could hear muffled music even though she wasn't even inside. No loud shouting or yelling was a good sign - she wasn't in the mood to deal with anything like that. She reached for the handle of one of the glass double doors and tugged it open. A small bell sounded overhead as she stepped inside. A soft, warm glow radiated from the lights in the room. Half of the large pub was filled with booths and tables where they sold food in the daytime. The other half was the bar, which was where Carley found herself heading towards. She took a seat on one of the empty barstools, which wasn't hard to find. There were only a few people actually at the bar; maybe four, Carley guessed from a first glance. On the other side of the room, there was a group of friends idly chattering at one of the booths.

Carley watched the bartender as he served a few other people. She mentally willed him to get closer so she could order her beer, finish it quickly and leave. She knew she should go home soon to get some rest, but she wasn't all that tired. She had several cups of coffee at work to keep herself alert so she could live up to her boss' impossible expectations. Nevertheless, she was still impatient to get back to her apartment.

Soon enough - although it seemed like forever to Carley - she got a chance to order. The bartender, who was a man in his twenties with brown hair and the beginnings of a mustache, gave her a mug of beer. She immediately took a sip, then paid him in cash and gave him a tip. She expected him to leave, but he didn't.

"Have you been here before? I don't recognize you," he asked in a slight accent, leaning on the counter.

Carley looked up from her beer, "I don't usually go to pubs," she answered simply, lifting her drink to her lips again. She really wasn't in the mood for talking.

The man winked, "Too bad. I'd like to see you around here more often."

Carley was shocked. Was he...flirting with her? She's only had one boyfriend before, and that had not ended well at all. It had only lasted a month, and she had felt almost nothing for him. She dumped him. She hadn't dated since. In fact, she didn't really think about dating anymore. Something about the men she met that showed any interest in her just didn't feel right.

Her expression must have displayed her feelings because the bartender sighed, "Look, I'm sorry. I've been trying to see what works on women because this girl I work with - she's off tonight - and I...I really like her a lot," he scratched the back of his neck, flushed with embarressment, "Any suggestions?"

"Um...try doing nice things for her? That should work. They don't have to be really romantic, either. Just something she'll notice," Carley suggested.

The bartender nodded, "Thanks. I have been asking almost every girl who comes in here if they have any suggestions for me. Most of them give really sappy suggestions, like huge romantic gestures that I probably just couldn't do, and most guys say pervy shit. I'm glad I was able to find a girl with some experience picking up women."

At this, Carley's eyes widened and she raised an eyebrow. Did he think she was a lesbian?

Catching Carley's expression again, that bartender stammered, "I mean..uh...I well, just assumed that you were..."

Carley laughed gently at how he was stuttering.

"I'm sorry," he apologized, "And my name's Luke, by the way."

"Nothing to be sorry for," Carley answered, "And I'm Carley."

A shout came from the other end of the bar, so Luke left to take the order of a man with a mustache and in a cap. Carley drank some more of her beer. It was still almost halfway full. Checking her watch that she forgot to take off when she was at home, she say it was only 1:30. She'd been expecting it be much later.

She was interrupted when a woman sat down beside her. She looked up from her watch, startled.

The woman had dark brown hair that went down to her chest. Her eyes were a deep, chocolate brown, but had dark circles underneath them from unrest. She wore a worn black jacket over a clean white shirt. Her skin was slightly tan but looked naturally pale. Her expression was one of extreme fatigue, but she still managed to looked ticked off at the same time.

"Hey Lilly. The regular?" Luke had finished taking the other man's order and had come back when he heard the bell above the door ring, which Carley had not noticed.

Lilly ran a hand through her hair, "Yes. And run a tab," she answered aggressively.

Carley realized that she had been staring, so she returned her attention to her beer. She took a sip awkwardly, accidentally spilling some onto her jacket.

"Goddamnit," she hissed under her breath, setting down her beer.

Great, Carley thought sarcastically, Just fucking great.

Carley unzipped her jacket and slipped it off of her shoulders. She was thankful she was wearing a good T-shirt underneath.

She threw her jacket at her feet. She didn't really have anywhere else to put it.

She took another sip of beer, less shaky this time.

"Here ya go Lilly," Luke said after he came back with a crystal glass filled with a spicy looking redish-brown liquor and a few ice cubes.

Lilly nodded and grabbed the drink almost the second Luke set it down on the table. She took a long sip and set it back down, then let out a short sigh.

Carley couldn't stand sitting right next to a person and not talking to them. She wouldn't want to be rude.

"So, long day?" she asked stiffly, assuming by Lilly's tired expression.

Lilly seemed surprised that someone she didn't know would talk to her. She turned her head and looked at Carley, "Yeah. I work with a bunch of assholes."

Carley sighed, "Me too," she answered, rubbing her forehead.

They sat in silence for a long moment.

"So, uh...where do you work?" Carley asked thoughtfully.

"Robins Air Force Base," Lilly answered after another sip of her drink.

Carley smiled, "Nice," she approved, "I get to work the demeaning job of being a reporter with a stuck-up bitch as a boss," she added with a scowl. The mere thought of her boss annoyed her.

"Compared to how people treat me at my job, you've got it easy," Lilly said.

Carley laughed, "I wouldn't be so sure about that. On my first day, my boss spilled hot coffee all over me and didn't even apologize. She told me that I should watch where I was going."

Lilly chuckled, "If I didn't have experience first-hand, I'd think people that arrogant didn't exist."

Carley grinned, nodding in agreement, "I'm Carley, by the way," she added, holding out a hand.

"Lilly."

They shook hands. Carley was thrilled. Outside of work, her only friends were Christa, Omid, Molly and Lee, and most of the time Carley was too busy to hang out with them. They lived almost twenty minutes away and she really only saw them when they dropped by for a surprise visit. Carley really needed somebody to be close by, so whenever she had a bad day like this one, she wouldn't have to go to a bar for comfort.

...

Lilly and Carley chatted for a while. Lilly had some quite interesting stories to tell. She told Carley this story about how she tried to sneak out of her parent's house when she was a teenager by climbing out her window but forgot that she lived in a two-story house that had no way down. She fell out of the window and broke her leg and arm. Carley had felt bad about laughing, but...it's just so damn funny how someone can forget like that. Lilly had ordered a couple (several) more drinks and her speech was beginning to slur together. Carley had finished her beer a while ago, but didn't order anything after that.

Lilly suddenly stood up from her barstool and stalked across the room.

"Lilly?" Carley called after her.

"Jus' a second!" Lilly called back. She was heading towards Luke, who was polishing the tables. When she got to him, she whispered something in his ear determindly. Luke whispered something back. This exchange lasted for a few moments.

Carley was about to go over to see what they were talking about or take Lilly away from him, but Lilly was back by her side before she knew it.

"What was that about?" Carley asked curiously, but still in a serious tone.

Lilly paused a moment, "Where d' you live?" she changed the subject abruptly.

Carley cocked her head slightly to the side, "Down the street. Why?"

A smirk grew on Lilly's face, "No reason."

Before Carley could respond, Lilly stood back up.

"D' ya wanna pretend to be bartenders? Luke's my friend, an' I think he'll let us," Lilly slurred.

Okay, Carley thought, she is definitely drunk.

"Lilly, you're drunk. Should probably get you home," Carley offered responsibly. Damnit, she felt like she was one of those people in those guidance videos her teachers made her watch when she was a teenager. She hated those.

"Oh come on, shorty. You're no fun," Lilly complained, drawling out the word 'fun'.

"I'm serious. We shou-" Carley was interupted by Lilly grabbing her arm and dragging her out of her seat.

"LILLY!" Carley shouted, pulling on the other woman's arm. Lilly was much stronger than Carley was, so it really had no effect. But Carley knew that Lilly really needed to be home right now, so she wouldn't get hurt or do something stupid. Carley firmly planted her heels.

"Lilly, stop. We can't go behind the bar. Plus, you probably need to get home."
Lilly gave a small snort, "Come on. I wanna see yu' pour some drinks."

Carley sighed. She still wanted to hang out with the woman, but Lilly needed to get home before she started throwing up or does something she'd regret.

"No. You come on. Did you bring your car? I could drop you off at your house," Carley offered.

Lilly still held Carley's arm, her grip tight. She shook her head.

"But I don't want to!" she whined.

Carley was fed up. Lilly was acting like a child. Carley really didn't want to do this, but she knew that words were not going to get into Lilly's head at this point of drunkeness.

Carley ripped her arm out of Lilly's grasp, and slapped her across the face.

Lilly blinked, and brought a hand up to rub her cheek where Carley had slapped her. The mark was already red. Carley felt a guilt spread through her body. She hadn't wanted to slap her that hard; she just wanted her to listen.

Lilly looked down, as if to cower, but instead leaned forward, cupped Carley's cheek, and...kissed her. Carley stood there stunned for a moment, Lilly's soft lips pressed against hers and the taste of alcohol not completely covering her sweet breath. Lilly had paused, probably nervous about what Carley would think. Lilly pulled away a few moments later.

Did Lilly really just...kiss her?

A smile unknowingly etched onto Carley's face.

Yeah, she did.

And, although it had come as a shock to her, Carley had actually enjoyed it. A lot. She was still standing there stunned like an idiot staring at Lilly's face.

Lilly grumbled an apology.

Carley realized she still had that stupid grin, so she wiped it off, "It's okay," she said to Lilly, "But let's get out of here."

Lilly was blushing, "Yeah, that's a good idea."

Lilly's voice sounded clearer than it had before, which was a good thing. But she was still obviously drunk by the way her steps faltered, so Carley wrapped her arm around her waist to support her. She used one arm to push the door open.

The night air would've been cold, but being so close to Lilly definitely solved that problem for Carley.

Lilly sighed, her cheeks still pink from earlier, "Carley, I'm sorry for-"

She was interupted when Carley pulled Lilly's head down so their eyes were level.

"For what?" she asked in a breath, and pulled her lips to Lilly's.

...

I realize now that I pretty much mixed the world of How I Met Your Mother and The Walking Dead. Well, I love both of those shows, and it still makes sense even if you haven't watched HIMYM. :D