A/N: Okay folks, this here is my very first attempt at any kind of fiction. I'm both excited and nervy as hell to be posting it! I've been reading everyone else's amazing work and it's inspired me to have a go myself. This started off as a kind of light hearted, funny thing and ended up as something completely different. I hope you like it, reviews welcome! I should mention it is sort of AU - some characters from the show that died are still alive for no reason other than I said so and GIRL POWER! This chapter contains a personal fetish of mine and also some scenes are flashbacks. You'll know them when you see them... Hopefully.

Disclaimer: I do NOT own The Walking Dead, any of it's characters, or any of the songs mentioned or referred to in this story. I do mourn for all the pennies I would have if I did though...

Chapter 1

The first thing Carol became aware of was the dryness in her throat as sleep began to recede. The morning began to creep into her cell, as did a tight throbbing in her head.

"Urrrgh no…" she groaned, burying her face in her pillow. Her mouth began to water ominously. She felt her stomach lurch and tried to swallow back the impending reflux of one too many vodkas. Too late.

She scrambled out of bed and launched herself at the bin in the corner of her cell. Well done Carol, staying classy even in the apocalypse… Gripping the sides of the metal bin she retched and winced as acid burned her throat and nose, tears streaming down her cheeks. Her gagging and gasping echoed into the cellblock, empty all except for Rick, who she could hear laughing under his breath. She was too ill to be embarrassed, she'd save that little delight for later, if she ever surfaced from her own personal hell.

Carol slumped to the ground, leaning on the bin and wiped her wet face with her hand. How had she gotten from a sip of wine to cuddling a bin, face covered in snot and eyes like a panda? Her head hurt so bad and the spinning made her stomach heave. Drinking had never made her this ill in her life, and as she heaved her guts into the bin again, she made a mental note never to drink again.

Taking Michonne up on her challenge of multiple shots was a bad idea, she knew that now. She'd known at the time the only outcome would be acid reflux and a morning spent hugging a toilet bowl (if she made it that far) but it had been too long since they'd had any semblance of fun. Caution was thrown well and truly to the wind and they had all had a few drinks. Rick and Hershel had taken on the role of sensible adults, watching with smiles as the party animals had gotten more and more rowdy, knowing that the morning would bring a few sore heads.

It had all been fun and games last night but now oh boy was she paying for it. This was the worst hangover she'd ever had. She decided rather than crawling back into bed to suffer that some cool Georgia morning air might help. Summoning all her strength she hauled herself up from the floor and pulled the liner out of the bin. She grimaced at the contents and felt her stomach bunch as she tied a knot in the bag.

Sunlight pierced her delicate vision as she emerged from her cell to find a very amused Rick busying himself with Judith. Her head swam. Carol waited for her vision to adjust and hurried past him hoping he would just leave her to her misery, but of course that would be no fun at all.

"Ouch," he grinned, "You could pass for a walker. You look like shit."

"Thanks. I feel like one. How's Lori?"

A loud yakking from their cell answered her question.

"Glad I'm not the only one who feels lousy," she groaned, rubbing her forehead.

"Michonne and Andrea were up half an hour ago fresh as daisies." Damn I really hate those two. "Michonne put you to bed when you crashed."

"I passed out?!" Carol threw a hand up to her head and winced.

"You did… after your little scene," he teased.

Carol's face dropped and her heart started to pound, vibrating right up through her sore head. Oh God, what did you do last night?

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox

It had been a beautiful day, more like the days before the turn. Nobody had ventured outside of the prison fences, and all the gates were firmly locked. In the yard the stage was all set for Glenn and Maggie's wedding. Recent runs had yielded a cornucopia of odds and ends that now decorated the scene. A beautiful white trellis archway which had been decorated with twinkle lights and flowers from the surrounding woodland, took pride of place. The chairs were nothing fancy; they'd gathered them from the prison cafeteria and laid them outside in rows. There weren't that many people to fill them but it seemed appropriate to arrange them for absent friends.

Among the findings were a generator and a CD player. There had been no CDs to play on it and it had sat in Carl's cell until Michonne returned one day with a thick stash of comics for Carl and a rucksack full of CDs. Some of them had no cases and there was no way to tell what was on them except to play them. Whoever they had belonged to was a big country fan. Dolly Parton, Hank Williams and Patsy Cline right up to more modern day artists like Lady Antebellum and Tim McGraw. Carol and Beth had pounced on the collection as soon as they realised. They were huge country fans and talked at length about their favourite artists. Beth was always singing and it was usually some haunting country melody that could be heard echoing through the hallways.

The morning of the wedding there was a buzz of excitement in the air as the girls helped Maggie get ready. They had gone on a run lead by Michonne two weeks before to find a dress and hit the jackpot when they came across a bridal boutique in a small cul-de-sac of stores. Maggie couldn't believe her luck. The owner had left the door unlocked, so there was no risk of attracting walkers by breaking the window. They swept the small boutique anyway and luckily it had been clear. Maggie tried on two dresses before settling on the third. It was a beautiful ivory strapless satin gown with a simple synched in waist and flowing floor length skirt. The diamante sprinkled ruching on the waist and across her middle flattered her svelte figure. She smoothed her hands over the cool fabric, twirling from side to side in the mirror and a beaming smile lit up her face. "I love it!" she'd squealed. Andrea, Michonne and Carol had set about picking out shoes, underwear and hair accessories, whilst Beth and Lori helped her out of the dress. Despite her slender frame it had been a feat of engineering getting into the dress and getting out wasn't much easier.

The run went without a hitch for a pleasant change, and the group headed back to their home content and buzzing with their findings. The others had chosen dresses too, none matching of course, but it was a bit of a makeshift affair. When they'd arrived back Glenn was naturally curious to see what they had found, if anything. He got short shrift from Maggie's entourage who clucked around her protectively until the dress was safely hidden.

Now the day was finally here and as the sun began to climb in the sky, Maggie's excited wedding high was turning her legs to jelly and her bowels to water as her wedding posse cleared out except Carol.

"So… How ya doing?" Carol straightened out the material on Maggie's veil.

"I'm shittin' bricks Carol," she mewled, shuffling from foot to foot uncomfortably. "What if I fall off these damn shoes? What if he doesn't show? What if I need to go to the bathroom?"

Carol chuckled and gave Maggie's arm a reassuring squeeze. "You'll be fine sweetie. Beth will prop you up and Glenn definitely isn't going anywhere, not with Daryl as his best man."

"I guess not. I do however have to go to the bathroom as of five minutes ago." She gave Carol a desperate look.

"Oh no… right, wait here 'til I check if the coast is clear."

Carol peeked out of Glenn and Maggie's cell and was startled as Daryl trudged around the corner. Her breath caught as she took in the sight of him. He'd had a shower but his hair was still delightfully mussed up. The piece de resistance however was the ensemble he was wearing. She'd never seen him look so spellbinding. He took her breath away on a daily basis anyway, but she was finding it hard to keep her jaw off the floor. He looked glorious in a black shirt with a lace up front, undone in typical Daryl Dixon fashion, exposing the top of a very nice chest, Carol noted. Her eyes travelled downwards to the knockout punch which would not register at first. Daryl Dixon - in a KILT. The deep green and blue pattern with sharp streaks of bright red cutting through the squares danced in her vision as he strode towards her. And those legs! She had only ever seen his knees jutting out of the rips in his trousers but this was full frontal leg action and she had to admit, she was a more than a little turned on. Below the knee he wore long black socks adorned with a matching tartan ribbon. In place of a traditional Sgian Dubh, Daryl's own knife was tucked into the top of his sock.

"What?" He stopped in front of her, studying her expression.

"Wow," she smiled, not knowing where to look but finally meeting his eyes.

"Stop," he muttered. "Glenn and his damn bright ideas. Fuckin' thing's itchin' like hell."

"I think you look…" Carol looked him up and down, trying to find a word that would do him justice, knowing such a word clearly did not exist.

"Like an ass is how I look." Daryl huffed.

"I was going to say… you look very handsome." She smiled shyly at him.

"Pfft," he smirked, shooting her a half smile.

"What?" she smiled back. "Can't a girl admire a nicely turned out pair of legs?"

Daryl felt a heat high on his cheeks and smirked. He wasn't used to taking compliments and furthermore he hated it. When Carol paid him a compliment though, he always felt a blush creep into his cheeks that never surfaced with anyone else. It made him want to run off and take watch or skin the catches from the snares, or do anything that would get him miles away from her and her teasing blue eyes. She knew how to rile him and she knew he knew it too. He always felt like she was teasing, her eyes dancing with a distinct mischievous undertone. It seemed to make it worse that she knew she could make him blush just by saying something nice; sometimes she didn't even have to say anything, just the briefest glance or smile at him and he felt his cheeks colour up.

Just like they were now.

"I gotta go, Glenn's waitin'." With that Daryl made his escape, his shoulders dropping noticeably as he let out a deep breath.

Carol looked after him, shamelessly eyeing his rear end and giggled. As he disappeared around the corner she smiled before remembering why she'd come out.

"Carol? This dress is gonna be a wetsuit if we don't get me to the bathroom!"

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox

Beth hurried out into the yard and gave Hershel a thumbs up and an excited nod. Hershel gave a nod towards Lori who cued up the first track on the CD player.

Beth opened the door and stepped out into the sunshine, and as a surprisingly rocky song began to fill the courtyard her sister emerged into the daylight.

'This time, I wonder what it feels like

To find the one in this life

The one we all dream of

But dreams just aren't enough

So I'll be waiting for the real thing

I'll know it by the feeling

The moment when we're meeting

Will play out like a scene

Straight off the silver screen

So I'll be holding my breath

Right up to the end

Until that moment when

I find the one that I'll spend forever with...'

Maggie smiled at Glenn who was shaking his head and giving her a megawatt smile. Her eyes grew wide like saucers as she took in his attire. It was the very same as Daryl's with the exception of his shirt and socks which were a crisp white, blinding in the midday sun. She greeted him with an impromptu kiss. He whispered something in her ear and she drew back in surprise, her delighted eyes bright and glassy. Beth gave her sister away and moved to the side, taking the bride's bouquet as she turned to face her man. Hershel presided between the couple and to Glenn's right stood his best man.

Daryl felt like a prize ass standing there in a skirt. Thank fuck Merle can't see me now. He just wanted this damn ceremony to be over so he could take off his barbed wire/camel crotch hair blend socks and scratch his legs into oblivion. It didn't help matters that he had gone commando and the woollen torture chamber around his waist was rubbing him up something awful. He made a mental note to thank Glenn with a boot up his dumb ass.

He glanced over at where Carol sat with Lori, Carl and Rick. He had to hand it to her, she looked beautiful. More than beautiful actually, she looked incredible. Her dress was understated yet elegant. A simple straight neckline just above the rise of her chest pulled into a halter neck and made her look more blessed in the rack department than he'd thought. Of course he never stared and never had to look away suddenly when she caught him. The deep crimson dress sat snugly around her waist and swathes of cool satin billowed down to just below her knees. Her legs looked especially long and delicate and he noticed the heels she was wearing. His chest tightened. He swallowed and felt his cheeks start to burn. Get a hold of yourself, Dixon.

Carol turned, as if she'd heard him think out loud and met his eyes with a smile. Daryl landed back in the present and realised he'd been staring. He quickly averted his gaze back to the matter in hand and willed his shame away as Hershel began to speak.

'We're gathered here in the sight of God to witness the joining of these two young people...'