"I don’t think we’ve met." The woman extends her arm. "I'm Clarice Starling, FBI - sent by Jack Crawford. Would you mind if I took a look around here?"
Will looks at her extended hand for what seems a moment too long. He knows the situation calls for a handshake. Clarice Starling is a proper FBI agent, sent to the crime scene by Jack. That means a deference is in order, even if she’s younger than Will.He holds his breath when he shakes her hand, releases it quickly. He knows a woman like Starling is probably used to men squeezing her hand till it’s painful when they shake it. All the aggression and dominance associated with such an act sits sick under his chin and he swallows it down. "Jack sent you?" he asks, adjusting his glasses over his eyes. He stuffs his hands in his pockets. The crime scene just behind the door sits behind his sternum and it’s trying to claw back out. He can still feel the viscerality of this one. "You can- you can look in there if you. Like. I’m done."
