Thank you all for the comments and reviews, especially about my question about the hotness of The Governor! I loved the range of answers, from (to paraphrase) 'BRING HIM TO ME NAKED BUT FOR THE EYEPATCH' to 'Ew ew ew not even in a hazmat suit'.

...

Daryl followed Beth and Blake out onto the terrace. He didn't know why – he'd got what he'd come for from Grimes and he should have already left. But he found he couldn't leave while Beth was with that man. She looked so slight and vulnerable in that gauzy dress showing all that white skin. He could tell she was uncomfortable. Was it because she wasn't used to parties, or was she worried about what that man was gonna to do to her?

Daryl could see in Blake's eyes exactly what he wanted to do to Beth every time the commandant looked at her, which was often, though Beth didn't seem to notice it as she talked to Grimes' ex-wife. Poisonous bitch. What a trifecta of shittiness Beth was sitting among and she didn't even realise it. Walsh weren't no better than Grimes or Blake.

He followed Blake and Beth when they went out back to the terrace. Daryl watched as Blake raised his hand to Beth's cheek. Stasi scum had no right to touch her. His anger doubled as he realised Beth wasn't pulling away. She was looking into his eyes and was just gonna let herself get kissed. What the hell?

Daryl started toward them. He brushed past Blake, purposefully too close, and dropped a tray of drinks down his leg. Blake leapt like a scalded cat and let go of her.

As soon as they were alone he rounded on Beth. 'What the hell d'you think you're playin' at? Offerin' yourself to a man like him.'

He could see even in the moonlight that she'd flushed crimson. Damn right she should be embarrassed. Stupid factory girl. She couldn't handle a man like Blake.

'Daryl,' she hissed under her breath. 'I wasn't offering anything. It was just a kiss.'

He leaned in close. 'That man'll eat you alive, little girl.' He wanted to say more, much more, but he wasn't going to blow his cover and face the firing squad just for the satisfaction of bawling her out. 'Inside. Git.'

Beth went, but he could see how mortified she was from the tightness of her shoulders. His anger dimmed a little. She was so young. Perhaps she hadn't known what she was getting into, going out onto the terrace. Maybe she'd never even been kissed before. There had been a tentativeness about her as Blake'd drawn her into his arms.

God, that was even fuckin' worse. Her first kiss, and it was that scumbag who had given it her. Daryl's chest felt tight and he didn't want to think about it any more. He watched Beth get safely back to the table and sit down with Lori, and then he got the hell out of there.

…

'Hey, factory girl.'

It was the first heavy snow of the winter and Beth was crunching her way home from Stasi Headquarters. They pavements had been shovelled clear that morning but were already covered again in two inches of snow. Her stockinged legs were freezing and the tips of her ears ached. She needed a better coat and some scarves and hats. Would it be wrong to sell her chiffon dress to buy winter clothes even though she hadn't paid for it herself?

She peered through the darkness in the direction of the voice, already knowing she'd see Daryl in the shadows. There he was, leaning against a wall, dressed in black with his hair in his eyes, as usual. Her face didn't change and she kept walking. She hadn't seen Daryl since he'd left her at the party two nights previously but'd had plenty of opportunity to think about the way he'd humiliated her.

Daryl peeled himself away from a wall and fell into step beside her. He walked like a hunter, body supple, eyes watchful. 'Got a job for you.'

'Not interested,' she replied.

'Wasn't asking. Need you to watch a safe-house with me. Need two on the shift. Ain't nobody else to ask.'

'I don't want to be a spy.'

'It's watching a goddamn house, not stealing the plans for the H-bomb.'

They walked on in silence for a while. Then he said, gruff but gentle, 'It's for Ana. Need this house to get her out. You don't need to do anything else for her.'

She turned to him in surprise. 'Really? But you said that wasn't fair on the others.'

He lifted his shoulders and let them drop, watching the flakes of snow fall down around them. 'I say a lot of shit. Others can take it up with me if they like.'

Beth's face hardened, remembering the party. Yes, he did say a lot of shit. 'How long do I have to watch for?'

'Till two a.m. Next shift starts then.'

Beth sighed. She was going to be so tired the next morning. Maybe she'd sleep in till seven-thirty instead of getting up at six to be with Maggie. She didn't have to be at the office till eight-thirty but had kept her old routine so that Maggie ... well, she didn't really know what difference it made to Maggie. A show of solidarity, maybe. Didn't seem to help things between them. They barely spoke lately.

Maybe if Maggie knew she was working with Daryl things would improve between them. 'Fine,' she sighed.

He took her a few blocks past her apartment building and made her wait in a darkened doorway. 'Count to a hundred and then come to flat 3E in that building. Door'll be unlocked.' He pointed to a newish block made of brown brick.

'Why can't I just come with you?'

But he was gone without answering her. She counted to a hundred under her breath, feeling silly like he'd just asked her to play a game of hide and seek.

'Here I come, ready or not,' she muttered when she reached a hundred. She made her way up to the flat and pushed the door open. It was dark inside, and her light footsteps echoed through the empty rooms.

A figure called to her the darkness. Daryl, sitting by a window. 'Here. Don't walk too heavily, and don't speak above a whisper.'

Her eyes slowly adjusted and she looked around her. It was an ordinary flat but it seemed no one had lived there for a while. There were two wooden chairs by the window covered in a venetian blind. On the floor by one wall was a spirit stove. And that was it.

She sat down in one of the chairs next to Daryl. 'What are we watching for?'

He nodded to the other side of the street at a building on the ground floor. It looked like an old bakery. The windows had been boarded up.

'What's that?'

'A safe house.'

'Another safe house? Why do you needed two safe houses on one street?'

He gave her an irritated look. 'Shut your smart mouth and just watch it.'

Beth rolled her eyes. Touchy much?

It had just gone six p.m. by her reckoning, so it was going to be a long evening. She dug her Kent cigarettes out of her handbag. 'Want one?' she said, offering the packet. He ignored her.

She lit a cigarette and chewed a nail. She was sure the bakery wasn't a safe house. So what was it? Why did Daryl need this particular building to get Ana out? It was close to the Wall, but there were lots of places close to the Wall, a lot of them boarded up.

Beth couldn't guess and Daryl wasn't going to tell her. They sat in silence for a long time. Beth became uncomfortable in her heavy coat, but she was cold too. Taking it off she spread it over her front like a blanket.

Daryl didn't move his eyes from the window. Every time somebody walked down the street he stiffened and watched them like a hawk. Several hours passed that way, and then she began to shiver.

Daryl glanced at her. 'Want some coffee?'

'Oh, yes please,' she said, almost in a whimper.

Beth stayed by the window while he went to the spirit stove in the corner. A few minutes later he came back with two tin mugs of sweet, black freeze-dried coffee. She wrapped her frozen fingers round the warmth and breathed in the steam.

Daryl dug a flask out of his pocket, unscrewed the lid and poured a slug of amber fluid into her mug. 'So you can feel those toes o' yours again.' He put the flask back without adding any to his mug.

'None for you?' she asked, sipping the coffee. He'd laced it with brandy. As she felt the warmth spread through her she thought she'd never been so grateful for a cup of coffee in her life.

'Nah. Need one of us with all their wits.'

'Why do you even need two people to do this? Seems like you've got it covered by yourself.'

'Always need two. I need to know for sure that no one goes in or out of that building. What happens when I go make a cup of coffee or take a piss?'

It seemed unreasonably scrupulous to her, but she said nothing. When she finished her coffee she said, 'Have you got anything to eat?'

'That all depends. How do you feel about squirrel?'

Beth stared at him. Then she shook her head. 'You're kidding. I know you're kidding.'

'Ain't kidding. Need meat. Ain't got time to stand in queues.' He pulled a paper packet out of his coat pocket and tossed it to her.

She held the package in her hands like it was a bomb about to go off. There was something stiff and heavy inside. Not a squirrel, please. She liked squirrels, with their tufted ears and fluffy red tails. The same squirrel had been coming up to her window for years and ate out of her hand. She'd admired its wobbly, timid babies every year before they left to find trees of their own to live in.

'Pick 'em off from my bedroom window with an air-gun. Good eatin'.' When she didn't move he glanced at her. 'Well go on, factory girl, it ain't gonna bite you.'

She passed the packet back to him. 'Thanks. I'll wait till I get home. I suppose you think that makes me prissy or something.'

'Not at all, factory girl.' He was silent a long moment and then said, 'That man can't help you with anything. Or if he can, he'll want something from you, and it'll be a dear fuckin' price to pay.'

Beth was confused for a moment, and then she realised he was talking about Commandant Blake. 'You don't know him, Daryl.'

'I know the Stasi. You don't get something for nothin'.'

She gave a short laugh. 'Hark who's talking. It's not like you're taking Ana across the Wall out of the goodness of your heart.'

'I want a bit of your time. The Stasi want your fuckin' soul.'

Beth gave an imperceptible shake of her head. It wasn't worth getting into an argument with Daryl about this. When he looked at the commandant all he saw was the uniform.

Daryl shook his head. 'I must be fuckin' crazy, bringin' you here. You're loyal to him.'

'I'm loyal to no one,' Beth protested. 'I haven't figured any of this out. The Wall, this war that's been going on for years without anything actually happening, the propaganda about the way we live and how grateful we should be to communism. I'm judging each person as I get to know them and I'm not about to pigeon-hole anyone, him or you. I don't think Commandant Blake is evil and I don't think you're a traitor. All right?'

She said all this in an angry whisper. It just wasn't satisfying giving someone a piece of your mind like that. She wished she could holler it at him.

He was silent for several long minutes. 'You tryna figure it out for yourself?' he asked.

'Who wouldn't? It's confusing as hell.'

'Who? Almost everyone. You not noticed? People either want to keep their head down, snitch, or leave.'

'You haven't done any of that.'

'No, I ain't.'

'You could leave,' she pointed out. But he wasn't listening. Suddenly he was standing, peering through the blinds.

'Holy shit.'

Beth sat forward. A man had appeared from inside the bakery. He was about Daryl's height or a little taller, with close cropped hair and a face with hard, mean lines. He closed the door and looked up and down the street as if uncertain about the direction to go. Daryl was transfixed by the sight of him, as if he couldn't believe his eyes.

'Do you know that man?'

'Yeah. S'my brother.'

...

What the hell was Merle doing coming through his tunnel that he'd dug with his bare goddamn hands? It was what Daryl had feared: all his hard work and that of the two men who'd helped him was now for nothing. The secret had been compromised. And by the last person he ever expected to see again. How the hell had Merle found out about it?

He hadn't seen Merle in two years. They'd had a big goddamn argument and Daryl had told Merle that he had to choose: stop exploiting, stop manipulating, stop breaking the law, or get the hell out of his life. For good. Merle had chosen to walk away.

'Is this what we've been waiting for?' Beth finally asked.

She'd been silent a long time, letting him process what he'd seen. The street outside was silent now. Merle had disappeared ten minutes earlier, heading north-east. Daryl had almost gone after him but he'd learned that the first hot-headed response to a situation wasn't always the best. Now he was glad he'd stayed put. He knew Merle knew about the tunnel, but Merle didn't necessarily know that Daryl knew Merle knew. It was a tiny advantage that he didn't want to give up.

Daryl sighed. 'Somethin' like it.' There was a wristwatch on the windowsill. One-twenty a.m. The next two watchers would arrive shortly. 'You go. I can finish up here.'

She got up, rubbing her eyes like she was sleepy, but then frowned down at him. 'Hey. You don't want me to see who's coming next, do you? That's why you made me count to a hundred before coming in. So that whoever was in here could leave. You don't trust me.'

'Don't take it personal,' he muttered.

'How am I meant to take it? I mean, I get it, but of course it's personal.'

He shook his head. 'I don't trust anyone at first, and nobody in the groups knows what the rest get up to, or even who they are. If they take you in and start burnin' you with electrical wires we'll all live a lot longer the less you can spill.'

Beth was silent a moment, like she was thinking. Then she shuddered and said, 'Night.'

He made a non-committal noise, not looking away from the window, and Beth left.

Daryl didn't trust the girl yet, but as naïve as she seemed there was courage and quick-thinking there, and he liked the way she took the trouble to really think about the world around her. She was stubbornly committed to making up her own mind about people. He got that. He was the same. Trouble was, she also had never been properly screwed over by anyone, and that made her too trusting.

It was one of the hardest parts of his activities, knowing who to confide in and who was a liability. He had good instincts, and his instincts were telling him that Beth had potential. And, goddamn, a Stasi secretary working for him, it was too fuckin' good a chance to miss.

He just hoped his instincts weren't about to bite him in the ass.

...

Merle! Merle has appeared. I really enjoyed writing Merle in On the Inside, and he's going to be a bit more complex and visible in this story.

So, Daryl's taking a risk on Beth by asking her to help him and telling her (and Maggie and Glenn) some of the details about his activities. He knows that she defended Ana in front of the Stasi at her own risk, and she helped him steal files. Plus she's trying to figure things out for herself and not be blindly led (with mixed results so far.) Do you think she's showing some potential to be valuable, or is Daryl crazy to think that she can be trusted?