A new perspective for this one. It's one I've been wanting to write for some time now, and a few different people have asked for. Hopefully you enjoy a peek into mind of Shane, Emily and Elizabeth's driver.

"You're off to Great Places!
Today is your day!
Your mountain is waiting,
So…get on your way!"

Dr. Seuss, Oh, the Places You'll Go!

"I'll drop you off here, Ambassador," I say, making eye contact in the rearview mirror. "This is as close as I can get you."

"Thank you, Shane," she answers with a small smile. I can't help but notice her eyes are bright with happiness and joy today. They are the eyes of a proud mother, and rightfully so – Emily's graduation, from Yale no less, is quite the accomplishment.

"Don't get out," she instructs when I move to do exactly that. "I'm fine."

I offer a small smile but ignore her request and hop out of the car, reaching the door just as she's beginning to open it. She frowns ever so slightly at my actions, and I can see the mix of gratitude and frustration in her eyes. She'd been insisting I didn't need to open the door for her since my first day working for her, and I hadn't acquiesced to her request yet. And I don't plan on doing so anytime soon. Old habits die hard, it would seem.

I offer a knowing grin at her expression. She always had been a bit stubborn. It's easy to see where Emily gets it from.

"You have your ticket?" she asks.

I nod and pat my suit jacket's pocket that holds the small piece of paper that Emily had sent me. I had been surprised when she called and asked if I'd like to attend her graduation.

"Me?"

"Yes, you," she says with a laugh.

"Are you sure, Miss Emily?" I ask, humbled by her request, and not quite sure I was worthy of attending.

"Yes," she answers firmly. "You've known me since I was 2, Shane. You're practically a part of the family. I'd love it if you could be there."

I smile widely at her words and feel my heart swell. I'd watched Emily grow up through my rearview mirror in the trips to and from school, piano lessons, parties, functions, appointments, and everything in between. To see her graduate would be nothing short of amazing.

"Well, in that case, I would be honoured to attend," I answer.

"Good," Elizabeth says, bringing my mind back to the present. "I'll meet you at our seats, then."

"Yes, ma'am," I say with a nod and hop back into the car. I pull away from the curb and follow the signs for parking, letting my mind wander through the memories of Emily growing up.

"Emily, this is Shane," the Ambassador says as she turns slightly so the toddler in her arms is facing me.

"Hello, Emily," I say gently, offering a warm smile to the young girl who so much resembles her mother with her pale skin, dark hair, and brown eyes.

She turns her head away shyly and buries her face in her mother's shoulder. Not atypical for a two-year-old.

"Don't take it personally. She's been going through a bit of a shy phase lately," Elizabeth explains apologetically.

"Not at all," I say with a small smile and a shake of my head.

"Can you say hello please, Emily?" she encourages.

Emily's head turns and one eye peeks out from the security of her mother's shirt. I watch as she slowly and tentatively raises one hand before waving it back and forth quickly and mumbling a "hi".

I smile again, trying to convey to her that I'm not as scary as she thinks. "Pleasure to meet you, Miss Emily."

"So, Miss Emily," I say, catching her eye in the rearview mirror. "Are you ready for your first day of school?"

She nods enthusiastically. "Yeah!"

I smile at her response. She's been practically bouncing off the walls these last couple weeks, unable to contain her excitement at starting school again.

"You have your bag? And your books?"

She nods again and smiles widely.

"Good. It's always important to be prepared for your first day."

She hums her agreement, but turns her focus to the passing scenery. I navigate the streets and traffic, making sure to point out important landmarks and buildings. She answers with questions about their histories, or importance, and I answer her to the best of my knowledge.

"I'll be here at 3pm sharp to pick you up, Miss Emily," I say once we reach her school, turning around to face her.

I had expected to find her toothy grin and bright eyes shining back at me, but instead I find tinges of worry and anxiety. Her mood has shifted entirely. Where excitement and joy had been, now apprehension and anxiety run freely.

My brow furrows in concern. "Are you all right, Miss Emily?"

She stays quiet for a minute, studiously avoiding my gaze and twisting her hands in her lap. "What if they don't like me?" she finally asks, her voice just a whisper.

I don't let myself think about how to respond, and instead just act on my instincts. I hop out of the car and open up her door, offering her a hand that she doesn't reach for. When she stays firmly seated in the car, making no move to exit, I squat down and face her.

"Keep your chin up, Miss Emily. I know starting a new school is hard, what with having to start the new year without the comfort of your friends, but this is not an insurmountable task. You can do this. You are a kind, compassionate, smart, and beautiful young lady that anyone would be lucky to know."

I see tears swimming in her eyes and I reach up to wipe them away before they can fall. "No tears, Miss Emily. You go into that school, and you do the best that you can. That's all anyone can ever ask of you."

She takes in a deep breath and wipes away the remnants of those tears before she gets out of the car. She throws her arms around me tightly before I have a chance to stand up. "Thank you, Shane."

"Of course, Miss Emily," I reply as I let her go and rise to my feet. "Now you go and show them all what an amazing young lady you are."

She nods, a look of determination settling in her eyes. She slips her bag on, and takes another deep breath before turning to face the school.

I sense the briefest chink in her newly found armour and hasten to fix it before it can derail her progress. "I'll be here after school to pick you up. It'll be 3pm before you know it."

She offers a small smile and then begins walking in with the rest of the kids. I don't envy her task of trying to fit into yet another new school, but she always seems to find a way, and I'm confident she will again.

I rub my tired eyes and let out a heavy exhale. The Ambassador's plane had landed at midnight, which of course required me to meet her at the airport and give her a lift home. I usually don't mind the late night drives, but tonight I'd picked up an exhausted, frustrated, and very-much-on-the-warpath Elizabeth Prentiss.

We had reached a level of trust and understanding many years ago that allowed her to show those emotions that she usually kept so tightly locked up. And that's why as soon as the door shut, I saw her neutral mask slip away and an expression of exhaustion and frustration took its place.

"Did Stephanie give you a copy of my schedule?" she asks, her tone clipped and all business.

"Yes, Ambassador," I answer politely, making eye contact in the rearview mirror. "It's in the folder on the seat beside you. You have a light day tomorrow – just a couple of phone calls in the evening."

She doesn't respond, and instead picks up the folder and begins to scrutinize her schedule.

"Did Emily break curfew while I was away?" she asks after a few minutes of silence.

I look into the mirror and find her gaze on me intently. "Not to my knowledge, Ambassador," I answer, knowing full well that Emily had broken curfew almost every day. It would do neither her, nor the Ambassador any good to have yet another heated argument.

Her eyes narrow at my answer, and I think maybe on some level she knows I'm not being truthful. But she takes my answer at face value and doesn't prod any further. Maybe she's just too tired to care. Her gaze shifts to look out the window at the falling snow, and I hear her let out a heavy sigh.

I turn my attention back to the road, and begin to think about how comfortable my bed is going to feel when I can finally fall into it and sleep. We spend the rest of the drive in silence, and I take the time to appreciate the beauty of the city's lights.

When we reach the house, the Ambassador immediately begins to get out of the car, not even giving me a chance to beat her to the punch. I hop out of the car quickly and have to settle for grabbing her luggage and following her into the house, depositing the first few bags at the base of the stairs. When I bring the remaining bags on the second trip, the Ambassador meets my gaze and offers a smile of gratitude.

"Thank you, Shane. You didn't need to do that – I could have brought them in."

"Not at all, Ambassador," I answer. "Did you want these brought upstairs?"

She shakes her head. "No, it's late enough as it is. Go home, Shane. And take tomorrow off. I won't be needing to go anywhere."

"Thank you," I reply with a nod, appreciative of her gesture. A day off sounds simply wonderful at this point… "Good night."

"Good night, Shane," she says before turning and heading up the stairs.

I head back to the car and am just about to get in when I hear the crunch of snow. My head whips around and I spy Emily stumbling toward the house. I curse under my breath, knowing that finding a drunk Emily might just push the Ambassador over the edge.

"Miss Emily," I say as I grab her arm and lead her toward the side door. "What are you doing?"

"Shane! So good to see you," she says, her words slurring together. I frown as I smell the alcohol on her breath. "You see this snow we're getting? It's amazing!"

I shake my head and guide her into the kitchen, sitting her down on a chair and instructing her to not move. I grab a glass and fill it with water, intent on getting her to drink it before I get her upstairs to her bed.

"Drink," I say as I put the glass down in front of her.

"I already did that," she says with a giggle. "Maybe a little too many times."

I frown and fix her with a meaningful stare. "Drink, Miss Emily. Believe me, you'll thank me in the morning."

"Jeez, you're real bossy sometimes, you know that?" she says, but picks up the glass and takes a large gulp.

"Slowly," I say, pulling the glass away from her mouth to stop her from spilling it everywhere. "Take small sips."

"What're you doing here?" she asks with a frown of her own. "Mother's not here, and I don't have anywhere to go…"

"I just dropped off your mother here a few minutes ago," I reply, watching carefully as she takes another sip – thankfully smaller this time. "She's home from her trip."

"Shit!" Emily says loudly. "Thought she was gonna be gone for a while longer."

"Keep your voice down, or she'll hear you."

"S'not like she cares," Emily replies, her words slurring again and her body beginning to sway slightly.

"That's not true," I counter, "and you know it."

"Nope," she replies, her finger pointing in a gesture probably meant to get her point across, but instead she's just waving her arm about slightly madly. "Five bucks says if I go upstairs and walk into her room she wouldn't notice. FIVE BUCKS! C'mon, I bet you!"

I let out a sigh. "Finish your water, Miss Emily."

"What? You don't got five bucks?"

I shake my head. "What possessed you to get pissed tonight?"

"Ha! Pissed! You know, sometimes I forget you're from England."

"Miss Emily," I say sternly, intent on getting an answer out of her. "Why'd you get drunk?"

"'Cause I wanted to," she answers stubbornly.

"Yes, I got that," I say with a sigh. "But why did you want to?"

"Oh," she says, swaying slightly. Her expression shifts to a thoughtful one, and I realize my question has provoked some thought. "Have you ever been drunk? Ohhhhhh, wait. Sorry. Have you ever gotten pissed?" she corrects with a giggle.

"That's not an answer."

"I was getting there. Jeez! For a guy who spends his days waiting for my mother to finish meetings and appointments, you sure are impatient." I stay quiet, figuring she would continue her train of thought. "You know how it kind of gives you that buzz but makes everything a little less sharp? How everything seems so awesome? How you don't have to worry about stupid boys? Or stupid decisions? THAT'S WHY."

I frown at her words. I know moving around so often had been tough for her, but her time in Italy had seemed to be so much worse than before. Something had happened…I'm just not sure what. And I'm starting to suspect it has something to do with a boy. I just pray that the first thing that's coming to my mind is not what she's referring to…

"You'll lose years of your life chasing that feeling, Miss Emily. It's better to deal with things and cope than to run away."

Her brow furrows. "'m not running away."

"Right," I say doubtfully. "Can you finish that last little bit of water, please?"

She doesn't respond, but does just as I ask. I take the glass from her and help her to her feet, praying that she'll remain quiet as I get her upstairs. Miraculously, aside from her shuffling feet and a few stumbles, we manage to get upstairs without alerting the Ambassador. She gets settled in her bed and I disappear to get another glass of water and a couple pills for when she wakes up in the morning, regretting her choices.

"Sleep now, Miss Emily," I say quietly.

"You're a good guy, you know that? You remind me of my Grandad. He loved me. Do you love me?"

I hold her gaze for a moment before I respond. "Yes, Miss Emily. I love you, and I hate to see you like this. So please, take care of yourself."

I don't expect a response, and I don't get one because she's passed out. I close her door behind me and head out to the car, sending a silent prayer that whatever it is she's going through she'll get through unharmed.

"Easy…easy…not so quickly, just ease your foot down a little bit…not so much, not so much, brake…brake…BRAKE!"

The car screeches to a stop and Emily lets out a frustrated yell as she hits the steering wheel with her hands. I reach over and put the car into park, then turn the key to turn off the car. I wait patiently. If I've learned anything at all about Emily in all the years I've known her, it's that you can't push her. You have to wait for her to sort through whatever it is in her head first, because if you push her without giving her that chance to collect her thoughts, she shuts down completely.

"Why can't I do this?!"

"Everyone has a rough go their first time round," I say gently.

"I bet they don't suck this badly their first time driving," she mutters under her breath, clearly frustrated. But I'm starting to think that that her frustration has very little to do with driving. She'd been on edge all day, and I think the driving lesson is proving to be a perfect opportunity for her to vent.

"My first time driving I crashed my father's car into our neighbour's car."

Her eyes widen at my reply. "Really?"

I nod. "Sadly, yes. Now, are you going to tell me what's really bothering you, or do I have to bribe you with my famous hot chocolate?"

I see a faint twinkle of amusement in her eyes, but it disappears quicker than I'd like. "I just don't get why I'm having so much trouble with this," she answers with a shrug.

I arch an eyebrow at her reply. We both know that her answer is a pathetic excuse for a dodge.

"What? It's true."

"I highly doubt that."

"Can we get back to my driving lesson, please?" she tries, but I'm not going to give in that easily.

"Sure, but driving isn't something to be taken lightly, so if your head is somewhere else, then maybe we should do this another day."

She lets out a heavy sigh, no doubt debating whether to tell me the real reason she's so out of sorts. I'm surprised when she actually tells me. "It's the anniversary of Grandad's death," she answers quietly, keeping her eyes on something in the distance.

"I'm sorry," I say gently. "I hadn't realized."

"It's okay," she says, turning to face me. In her eyes I see emotion swirling, a rarity for her. "I just miss him so much."

"It's never easy when you lose someone you love."

"How long does it take before it stops hurting so much?"

I scrutinize her expression for a moment before I try to answer her. Memories of my wife and daughter surface in my mind as I contemplate how to comfort her without giving her empty platitudes. "There will always be a small part of you that misses him and aches for the time you missed out on having with him. But as time passes you begin to be able to focus on the happy memories instead of that ache, and it dulls. I can't tell you how long it will take, Miss Emily, but know that the day will come."

She stays quiet and lets my words sink in for a moment before she takes a deep breath and I see her mask slip back into place. Like mother, like daughter, it seems. She turns the key and starts the car once more. "Can we try again?"

I nod. "Foot on the brake pedal," I begin to instruct, hoping that this time will go a little more smoothly. "And shift into drive, yes, good. Now gently lift your foot and ease it onto the gas…"

The car lurches forward a little when she pushes her foot down and then lifts it in a panic, but she recovers quickly. The car moves forward slowly and steadily as she maneuvers around the empty parking lot.

"Good, now let's try to bring the car to a complete stop. Same as before, just ease your foot off the gas and onto the brake. Nice and gentle… Good. Good. That's really good, Miss Emily."

She smiles at her success and I see her let out a sigh of relief. Guess a little chat was all she needed…

"So…have you picked yet?" I can see a small smile begin to spread on her face behind the mug of hot chocolate she's holding up to her lips. "Aha! I knew it!" I say with a laugh. "So…don't keep me in suspense! Where are you going?"

She laughs at my tone. "Yale."

"How very fitting," I quip as I take a long sip of my coffee.

Her brow furrows. "What's that supposed to mean?"

I let out a chuckle. "Yale has quite the reputation for producing great and influential politicians."

Her face pales as she no doubt considers the prospect of pleasing her mother – a career politician. "Oh god. I didn't think of that. Maybe I shouldn't go there…"

I chuckle again. "Don't worry so much, Miss Emily. You're not going to study politics, are you? Go to Yale, and show them what Emily Prentiss is all about. You'll take them all by storm, I've no doubt."

She smiles half-heartedly at my attempts to reassure her. "You think?"

I shake my head. "I know. Besides, you just need to go and do the best you can, because-"

"-that's all anyone can ever ask of you," she finishes for me with a smile. My eyes widen at her ability to finish my thought. "What? It's a Shane-ism."

"A what?"

"A Shane-ism," she repeats with a grin. "You have these little nuggets of advice that you give out, and we've taken to calling them Shane-isms."

I frown. "We?"

She laughs. "Me, my friends, the staff…hell, I'm pretty sure my mother even calls them that."

"When did I become so predictable?"

"Probably a few years back," she answers cheekily. "I mean, I can remember hearing that exact phrase from you before every single first day of school I ever had."

"Well, then I guess my advice today isn't out of place at all," I say with another laugh. "I'm just getting it in before you head off to take over New Haven."

Her eyes twinkle in amusement as she takes another sip of her hot chocolate. "I'm going to miss you, you know?"

"Likewise," I reply, feeling my heart clench at the concept of watching her go. I suspect this is how a parent feels when their child is heading off to begin their own life…

I place my hand on the Ambassador's back and gently guide her through the crowd to where I'd spotted Emily was chatting with some fellow graduates. The ceremony had been lovely, and I'd watched with pride as she received her degree. I saw the few stray tears sneak out of the Ambassador's eyes as she watched her daughter walk across the stage, and without looking over I'd offered her my handkerchief which she had accepted with a silent thanks.

"Emily!" she says when she spies her daughter. Emily turns to face us and I can't help but smile at the wide grin she's wearing.

"Mom…Shane…hi," she says, her eyes alight with happiness. I'm pleased to see there's not a single trace of animosity between the two Prentiss women today. It gives me hope that at some point they'll work through their issues and reconcile. It's sad really, because I'm certain that what they both desperately want is a relationship with the other. Emily craves her mother's approval and love, and Elizabeth wants to be that figure for Emily. Stubbornness on both sides is causing the rift to grow, rather than shrink, sadly.

"Congratulations," the Ambassador says as she wraps her arms around her daughter in a tight hug.

"Thanks," Emily says when they break apart just a short moment later. "And Shane – thanks for coming."

"Of course," I say with a nod. "I wouldn't have missed it for the world."

"Let's get a picture," the Ambassador says, reaching into her bag for the camera. I take it from her hands and gesture for the two of them to pose together. They inch toward each other and share a look that I can't quite place – but they are both overwhelmingly happy. And that is more than enough for me. I snap a few pictures and then hand the camera back to the Ambassador to stow in her purse.

"Wait-," Emily says. "C'mere Shane. Let's get a picture of us too."

The Ambassador smiles and nods as she raises the camera up. I smile as I move to stand next to Emily, who I watched grow up before my very eyes. She swings an arm up and over my shoulder, and I follow her lead, laughing as she cracks a joke.

"I know you and Tom are going out for dinner tonight, so we won't keep you," the Ambassador says with a tinge of disappointment in her voice. "Congratulations again, Emily."

"Thank you," Emily answers politely, and I can see a touch of regret in her expression – as though she wishes she wasn't breaking her mother's heart by not spending more time with her. But years of a strained relationship aren't mended overnight, and today has already exceeded her expectations of her mother – that much I'm sure of.

"You'll be back at the house next week, right?"

Emily nods. "Yeah, Tom's driving me back."

It's the Ambassador's turn to nod this time. "Be safe."

Emily shakes her head and rolls her eyes. "I will."

"Goodbye, Emily."

"Bye."

And with that, the Ambassador turns and begins to carefully examine a nearby plaque. I hadn't missed the unshed tears in her eyes, but Emily had.

"Oh, I almost forgot," I say, reaching into my suit jacket and pulling out an envelope. "This is for you."

Her brow furrows slightly as she takes it and opens it, her eyes scanning the inscription inside.

Emily,

On this, your day of commencement, I congratulate you on everything you've accomplished. I know you have so much more to do and see and accomplish in your life, and I know that you'll take the world by storm now. Watching you grow up from a young girl into the woman you are today has been a privilege and honour, and I wouldn't trade it for the world.

And as you move on to yet another first day of school, even if it is for a graduate degree, I have a piece of advice for you. Just go and do your best, it's all anyone can ever ask of you.

-Shane

I'm shocked to see tears well in her eyes as she finishes reading it. "Shane-" she begins, but stops when she chokes up. "Thank you," she manages to get out finally. "For everything."

"You're more than welcome, Emily," I say with a smile, returning the spontaneous hug she bestows upon me.

Yes, I rather think this is what parents feel like, watching their kids go off into the world.

So...what did you think of Shane? Were you amused by a young, drunk Emily? Did you 'aw' at Shane's little note to her on her graduation day? Do let me know!