As the winter drear and bitter Boston cold gave way to spring, the city was met with weekly down pours. Not exactly the best timing for someone who recently bought a red, 2010 Kawasaki, in the hopes of saving on fuel, getting better parking spots, and well just looking bad ass.

The rider patiently merged onto the chaotic freeway, making sure to check all blind spots and sped up to get into the next exit lane. In the hazy drizzle, the bike was a blur of red, mixed with the black of a leather jacket, and a growling engine that announced the rider before turning down the congested main street. Swerving left then right to avoid parked cars and pot holes the rider finally stopped at the entrance of a long alley. The entrance to the alley had been blocked off with yellow police tape. The rider dismounted and walked towards the crime scene, helmet still on.

Dr. Maura isles leaned over the bloodied body—which she estimated had been murdered and abandoned at around 3:30 a.m. that morning. She meticulously continued her note-taking until her train of thought was interrupted by the powerful rowr of an approaching motorcycle. Although she had openly expressed her distaste towards riders of such machines, her heart always raced a little when she thought of the type of man who embodied the image. Even she had to admit that owning a bike was a turn on.

Watching the rider dismount and walk down the alley, clad in a leather jacket, black boots and a red helmet her curiosity was suddenly piqued. That swagger. Those boots. It was all so familiar to her. Wait a minute. No way.

As if out of a movie, the rider removed her helmet and shook out her unruly brunette mane, attempting to restyle her hair with one hand. Jane Rizzoli unzipped the front of her leather jacket half way and pulled out a manila folder that had been safely guarded and kept dry against her breast during the entire ride. With a crooked grin she handed the ME the file.

Ha! I knew that entrance would do the trick. She totally thinks that I'm hot on that bike.

The ME just stared, not registering the outstretched hand or the proffered file. Her heart raced faster than expected. Correction. A woman on a bike is hot. And Jane on a bike is just…

"Are you gonna take it? Or should I pull up a seat for the rest of the day?"

"Oh! Sorry Jane, I just, you surprised me; would you like me to review my findings thus far?"

Maura immediately switched back to professional mode, in attempt to cover up her slack-jawed reaction.

"That would be lovely Maur. Go ahead."

Not even the grim crime scene could wipe the grin off the Detective's face.