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Jan. 9th, 2019 01:36 pmHopper still has a lot of shit to deal with. He knows he has a lot of shit to deal with, stuff he pushes aside and pretends doesn't exist or numbs under alcohol, because that's a hell of a lot easier than actually trying to face it. For the most part, this works for him, because he has other distractions, things that make him happy, things that make it easy to overlook the other shit he's never dealt with.
There's Beverly, of course, and there's Lucy, but there's also being a cop. As much as he'd treated his job in Hawkins like it was mostly just an office to take a nap in after he had a beer in his truck, he knows it's something he's good at. There hadn't been much to do in Hawkins until the lab started screwing around with things, but in New York he'd been a good cop and when it had come down to it, he'd helped Hawkins, too.
Darrow gives him a lot more to do in that sense. He's not a detective or anything, but the precinct knows he and Bobby are good cops, better than a lot of the new kids they get in, so they tend to get better and more interesting cases. Corralling drunks usually isn't assigned to them and Hopper's grateful for that, because he's pretty sure he'd end up getting himself into trouble with obnoxious college boys.
Right now they're in an unmarked car, watching a small convenience store down the block. Nothing is supposed to happen, as far as they've been told, it's really just surveillance, watching who comes and goes. There's talk of it being a front for some sort of drug ring and they need a bit more information collected before anyone will be able to go further with it. Hopper doesn't mind being the one to do it. He likes the work, he likes Bobby, and being paid pretty damn well to sit in a car and eat a burger isn't such a bad way to spend the evening.
"Fries?" he asks, passing the bag over to Bobby.
There's Beverly, of course, and there's Lucy, but there's also being a cop. As much as he'd treated his job in Hawkins like it was mostly just an office to take a nap in after he had a beer in his truck, he knows it's something he's good at. There hadn't been much to do in Hawkins until the lab started screwing around with things, but in New York he'd been a good cop and when it had come down to it, he'd helped Hawkins, too.
Darrow gives him a lot more to do in that sense. He's not a detective or anything, but the precinct knows he and Bobby are good cops, better than a lot of the new kids they get in, so they tend to get better and more interesting cases. Corralling drunks usually isn't assigned to them and Hopper's grateful for that, because he's pretty sure he'd end up getting himself into trouble with obnoxious college boys.
Right now they're in an unmarked car, watching a small convenience store down the block. Nothing is supposed to happen, as far as they've been told, it's really just surveillance, watching who comes and goes. There's talk of it being a front for some sort of drug ring and they need a bit more information collected before anyone will be able to go further with it. Hopper doesn't mind being the one to do it. He likes the work, he likes Bobby, and being paid pretty damn well to sit in a car and eat a burger isn't such a bad way to spend the evening.
"Fries?" he asks, passing the bag over to Bobby.
