The next morning, Winston found a ball of paper crinkled up on the floor of his cubicle. Once opened, it read "Thanks." He peeked out of his cubicle and down the hall toward Tech Support. Julia was sitting there, her berry-red lips pursed in concentration as she typed away. During lunch break, Winston left the cafeteria on pretence of needing the bathroom and snuck over to Julia's empty desk. He tore off a sticky note and wrote "Movies" in carefully nondescript handwriting. He stuck it to her keyboard and went back to finish his spaghetti and meat balls.
The closest movie theater was near the border of Winston's neighborhood, a stone's throw from the line of red paint that crossed the pavement. Winston talked a couple of other workers into going to see whatever random comedy was on this afternoon, so as to remove suspicion. For the second time in a day, he pretended to need the restroom, and snuck away from his escorts when the movie was done. He waited by the entrance, obscured by the crowd, until he saw a familiar head of short, glossy black hair poking up between the taller patrons.
"Julia," he said in mock surprise.
She turned around, spotting him between the other people, and smiled cautiously. "Oh, hello."
She gave him a nervous, half-questioning glance, which he answered by walking up to her. "I seem to be running into you a lot," he said, "here, we were going to go to the cafe for a snack before curfew. Would you like to come with us?"
He introduced her to his coworkers and they smalltalked their way through a light meal. Eventually, the others left, and it was just the two of them.
"I live right across the street," Winston whispered as he opened his mouth to finish his club soda, eyes flicking carefully around to make sure no one was listening. Julia gave a very subtle nod, her needle-sharp eyes lighting up for a moment under her black, painted lashes. They separated upon leaving the café, and she followed him at a convincing distance to his apartment complex. He was waiting for her at the door of his own apartment, head twisting around to spot observers. She quickly hurried inside, and he shut the door behind them.
For a long, tense moment, the only sound was the second-hand of the clock. Julia looked around the room, her bright green irises flicking from the small cluster of armchairs to the TV to the window. Winston kept his eyes on her, wondering if she was about to pull out a nerve pistol and badge.
"Hi," she finally said.
"I've been meaning to ask," Winston replied, deciding that if he had already gone so far as to have a woman alone with him in his apartment he might as well break another minor rule or two, "where did you live before?"
"What?" She looked surprised, then blushed a little across her petite yellow face. "Oh. I'm from Singapore."
They each waited for the other to paralyze them. Fifteen seconds later, Julia broke the silence "You're from Jamaica?"
Winston almost resignedly nodded his head, walking around the room toward one of the chairs. She remained standing, regarding him with shy curiosity. She could still be an undercover Disciplinarian; he had heard that they sometimes prolonged the charade to trick you into racking up higher and higher point counts. At this point, though, he'd be screwed either way.
"Yes, Kingston. My family moved to London when I was in secondary school."
"I see," she said, still eyeing him and his living space with apparent caution. Then she smiled a little and gave him a coy look out of the corner of her eyes. "Good thing you kept your accent."
Winston raised one, thick eyebrow.
"It's cute," she explained.
"Uhuh. Is that supposed to be a compliment?"
She shrugged her dainty shoulders. "Its just true."
Winston allowed himself a half smile as he sat down in one of the easy chairs and motioned for her to do the same. Since he didn't really have anything to add about his allegedly adorable dialect, he said "Singapore. You're used to a system like this one, then?"
Julia chuckled a little bitterly and shook her head, making her hoop earrings sway. "Not really," she said, "Singapore canings only happened to men. And not nearly as often as Overlord's."
Speaking of cute accents, she pronounced it "oh-vuh-load." It made Winston smile and think of another, similar word that we wished would happen to Overlord's processors.
"So," she said, apparently thinking along the same lines as himself, "you were in Europe when it happened?"
Winston nodded yes. "The United Kingdoms were one of the firsts to fall, after it took over Sweden."
"Of course," Julia said solemnly, "we surrendered after China and Japan. There was no one left to protect East Asia."
That was pretty much what Winston surmised. The European war computers had been compromised first, due to their proximity, but the rest of the world followed only shortly. He wondered for the millionth time what had happened to those poor fools in Sweden who unleashed Overlord. Had it killed them as soon as it achieved self-awareness, or were they still alive somewhere, living under the same conditions as the rest of humanity? If the latter, he hoped for their sake that Overlord kept the secret from their neighbors.
This rather more serious train of thought led Winston back to practical matters. "Curfew starts in half an hour," he cautioned, remembering the fate that had befallen Maria for this very offence yesterday.
Julia smiled a little mischievously, which made her lips seem even fuller. "Don't worry, I break curfew almost every night. I'm very sneaky."
Okay, that sounded a little too much like foreshadowing. Winston narrowed his eyes. "How sneaky?"
She smiled again. "I lived in a bad neighborhood in Singapore. I used to slip passed the gangs every time I stayed out late."
"If there were gangs, why did you stay out late?"
"The same reason I came with you today."
Their eyes met, his deep, dark pools catching her green stones.
"You like taking risks, then," Winston said, deciding that he had been beating around the bush more than long enough, "but what about
me
made you leave the note? Aside from my accent."
She leaned her head to the side, one earring lying flat against her head. "You're very polite," she said slowly, "most people in the office are assholes to tech support. You seem much smarter than the supervisors; you should probably have Mr. Montag's job."
Winston allowed himself to chuckle at that. He supposed that was a compliment, although if you asked him
anyone
else should have had Mr. Montag's job.
She pursed her lips thoughtfully. Wow, they really were full. "I can't quite think of the main thing," she said, "you're just interesting."
"You love me for being interesting?" He laughed again. "Either you're very bored with most people, or you fall in love a lot."
"I'm very bored with most people. And my note got your attention, didn't it?"
He felt his nerves beginning to warn him again. If she was setting a trap for him, this was probably it.
"If I said anymore about that," Winston said, leaning forward to look at her expressions more carefully, "I could get spanked for it."
"And I could get spanked for telling you about the note. We both take risks."
Winston could see no deception in those energetic eyes of hers. Slowly, he accepted that she was probably for real.
"Would you like some chocolate?" He asked.
Her eyes lit up. "Oh, now THAT can get you a real spanking."
He nodded grimly. "There's a good black market in this neighborhood. Chocolate, champagne, I even got some herb and tobacco. Do you smoke?"
She shook her dainty head. "No. But I eat chocolate."
