Time After Time (a Stranger Things fanfiction)

Break My Stride

"Break My Stride"

Ain't nothin' gonna break my stride

Nobody gonna slow me down, oh no

- Matthew Wilder

In the mayor's office, Hopper blew past the receptionist. If what he suspected was true, they didn't have time to wait around for an hour and a half before His Honor deigned to be seen.

As the receptionist got to her feet, indignantly calling out, "Excuse me?!", Joyce stopped in front of her desk.

"You should sit down," she said.

"What did you say to me?"

"I said sit down." Joyce held the other woman's gaze. Candace something. She recognized her from Melvald's, coming in to pick up her prescriptions, acting like she was better than the rest of Hawkins. Well, she might be better than Joyce. It was possible. But she didn't know a damned thing about what really went on around here, and Joyce wasn't about to let her stand in the way of Hopper getting some answers. He hadn't said much on the drive over, but from the grim set of his lips under his mustache, Joyce could see that he had some suspicions.

The mayor, Larry Kline, was on the phone when Hopper opened his office door, and he gestured for Hopper to come in. Which he did, locking the door behind him so they couldn't be disturbed. As Hopper took the seat on the other side of the desk, the mayor put the phone down, making a show of his reluctance. "Jim."

"I know, I know, you're busy. I'm gonna make this fast, I promise." He was paying lip service to the things polite people said to each other—but he wasn't feeling any too polite.

Larry flashed that politician's smile that Hopper had wanted to wipe off his face so many times. "Is there, uh, some kind of problem?"

"Yeah. You might say that. Um, I'm looking for the name of a guy."

"The name of a guy?"

"Yeah. I think you might know this guy."

"Okay?"

"He was here the other day. He rides a motorcycle." Motorcycles weren't common in Hawkins; Hopper had noticed this one. Remembering it, it felt all too plausible that Larry might have gotten himself mixed up with the kind of person who prowled Hawkins Lab late at night. "Big build; square jaw; dark hair. He's probably military. Maybe ex-military? Is this ringing any bells?" He knew it was; Larry knew he knew it was. It only remained to be seen how long Larry was going to want to play the game.

"Uh ..." Larry spread his hands out in a gesture of helplessness and flashed the smile again. "I don't think so."

"Really." Hopper leaned forward, picking up the shiny name plaque off the desk. "'Cause it was just two days ago. It was right before I saw you."

Larry snapped his fingers like he had just figured it out. "Oh. You know what?"

"What?"

"Could be the maintenance guy."

"Maintenance," Hopper repeated.

"Yeah yeah yeah. Can't remember his name. Oh, God ..." Larry closed his eyes, making a good show of trying to think of the name. "Gary or John or something. Candace will have his name on file. We've had trouble with the plumbing. Clogged toilets." He chuckled. "Sinks with minds of their own."