Time After Time (a Stranger Things fanfiction)

Watching the Detectives

"Watching the Detectives"

You think you're alone until you realize you're in it

Now fear is here to stay, love is here for a visit

- Elvis Costello

Hopper pulled into his spot in front of the police station. Late again, damn it. He had meant to leave earlier this morning, part of an overall plan to come into work early so he could knock off early, so he could be home at a reasonable time now that the days were shortening and night closed in sooner. He hated to leave Eleven home alone in the dark. Not that she minded so much ... but he did.

An already foul mood grew blacker when he saw who was waiting on the sidewalk for him. That crackpot who was soaking Barbara Holland's parents for every penny they had. If there was anything Hopper hated as much as people who let little kids die and lied about it, it was people who took money from grieving parents to chase impossible theories that they knew would never pan out.

"Good morning, Jim," the crackpot said.

Hopper rolled his eyes and walked past, hoping that if he didn't give the guy the attention he was looking for, he'd go away.

Of course, that tactic hadn't worked the last half-dozen times they'd been in this situation, so he shouldn't have been surprised when it didn't work today.

Crackpot followed him, calling his name again.

"Hold on a second. We need to talk," he said urgently, catching the door before Hopper could let it slam in his face.

"Get away from me," Hopper muttered. More to himself than to Crackpot, because he knew how ineffective it would be.

"Okay, no, I—"

"Get away from me." Louder, this time.

"You're really going to want to hear this."

"Get away from me!" Hopper sang it this time, really drawing it out.

Crackpot kept talking over Hopper's voice, his own rising in what sounded like desperation. "I only want five minutes!"

"Yeah? I want a date with Bo Derek. We all want something," Hopper snapped at him. They were in the office proper now, and Flo marched up and took the cigarette right out of Hopper's mouth, like she did every morning. So far that hadn't kept him from lighting another one, but she kept hoping, and he didn't mind. She was probably right, for that matter.

He shrugged off his jacket.

"This isn't a laughing matter, Jim," Crackpot assured him earnestly. "This is serious, okay?" he continued over Hopper's groan of disgust and irritation. "I've really got somethin' here, I'm tellin' you!"

"Mornin', Chief," Powell said brightly as Hopper passed his desk, and Phil chimed in with a greeting of his own. God, they were chipper. Didn't they have anything better to do than come to work and be cheery?

Of course they didn't, because as far as anyone knew, nothing ever happened in Hawkins, and that was the way Hopper wanted to keep it.

Catching sight of Crackpot behind him, Powell added, "Mornin', Murray!"

"Got any proof on your butt probin' aliens yet, Murray?" Phil asked. Powell cracked up at that one. It was about as clever as Phil got, Hopper reflected. And Crackpot did like his alien abduction story.