Disclaimer: All I've ever owned is the shirt on my back
Inspired by two other fics (thank you!) I just couldn't get this idea out of my head and I can't write anything else till I've got this down. I hope that's okay...
Handcuffs
[Wikipedia definition - Handcuffs are restraint devices designed to secure an individual's wrists close together.]
Handcuffs are used to restrain people, to stop people getting away.
Hand-crafted silver they comprise of two halves linked together by a chain. One locking mechanism on each side, one chain binding the two halves for eternity.
She uses them on nearly a daily basis. To catch a fugitive, to apprehend a suspect, and sometimes even to shut up someone who's got on her nerves. Anyone who decides not to come quietly.
They represent some kind of control to her. Control that she feels she needs to take back. Back from the chaos of her past.
Back from the lack of control that took her mother cruelly from her.
Back from the lack of control with which she watched her father leave the rest of her family behind.
And back from all the other people in her life who have left her since.
Not that she would ever admit that. Even to herself.
In some weird way they have almost become an extension of her. Their weight on her belt no longer noticeable. In fact, she would be more perturbed by their sudden absence. She would feel naked without them.
They are on her mental checklist in the morning, "keys, phone, badge, handcuffs...", as if that was the most normal thing in the world.
They have become part of her language. Her parlance. Fundamental to the way she sees the world. To the way she understands the world. Even to the way she interacts with the world.
Handcuffs are used to restrain people, to stop people getting away.
So she handcuffed herself to him. It was the only way she knew how.