A/N: I am so, so, SO sorry that it took so long to get this out! I just haven't had the muse for it at all. That's probably why this last chapter's so bad...Hopefully though that's just my inner critique being a jerk and you all think it's alright.

Oh, and if I lengthened any of the four parts before this, which ones should I do? I can't tell if they're good how I left them or if I should put in some more...Suggestions would be awesome!

1. Chekov

"Alright everyone, heads up and ears open. I've got some bad news for you." Kirk walked across the bridge as he spoke, hands folded behind his back, towards the large chair he normally sat in. As he walked, the heads of those on duty turned to follow him, small smiles on their faces at the typical call from their young commander.

Chekov wasn't smiling though when he pulled his eyes away from the computer screen. He'd been trying to crack the same code, one they'd found just drifting about in a supposedly empty section of space, for the last three days. So far, all that he'd managed to accomplish was give himself a headache and muss up his sleeping schedule; not that he had much of one in the first place.

Kirk didn't say anything until he'd settled down into the Captain's Chair, spinning it around once when he first dropped into it. By the time it had spun back towards the majority of the crew, the slight grin on his face had dissapeared, lips twitching down into a frown. "The crews vacation time has been cut down by a hundred and twenty hours. That means some of you are going to have to cancel your plans and stay onboard the Enterprise for Christmas."

Groans seemed to fill the room, hands flying up to run through hair and eyes narrowing to send displeased scowls at their captain. Chekov made a small shrugging motion, not bothering to frown at Kirk, before turning back around in his seat to start tapping at the keyboard again. It wasn't like Kirk had chosen to cut back on their vacation time. An order like that came from way far up in the chain, higher then Chekov could ever even dream of meeting.

Behind him, he could hear Kirk start announcing a list of people who's vacations would be destroyed but the words were steadily being tuned out. His eyes, once more focusing on the number filled screen in front of him, started to loose focuse and sting; vision blurring as the numbers started to swim. It took a couple of hard blinks for his vision to steady again. Only to have someone start nudging him in the side with their elbow. The elbow hit his arm, which in turn caused his hand to jerk and the wrong string of numbers to be entered into the program.

"Derqumo!" The fact that he'd been hit flew completely from his mind as the screen cleared. Chekov hunched foreward in his chair, blue eyes wide, and slammed on a couple of keys. "No, no, no! Come back!" He half-muttered to himself.

The screen remained white.

All of his work was gone.

Completely and totally gone.

The man beside him, some red-suited newbie who's name Chekov couldn't remember right then, let out a vaguely apologetic noise before sliding his chair a good couple of inches away. Breathing deeply through his noise, trying to think calm thought, the Russian turned to face his captain. "Yes, Keptain?"

It wasn't hard to hear the slight cracking of the ensigns' voice when he spoke and Kirk found himself wincing slightly. "I asked if you didn't mind being one of the crew members that gave up their vacation time. Ohura was telling me that there are several other coded messages that need to be worked on and since you're almost done the first one..."

Almost...Done? "Sorwy, Keptain, but I'm not almost done anymoure." Chekov jerked one hand towards the screen behind him. "I just lost all of my wouk."

Kirk blinked. "Oh. Well, then that's an even better reason for you to stay on board! You can try and get back the lost data! You didn't have that much planned back on Earth, anyways, right?" The young captain laughed, waving one hand in the air beside him. "So do you mind?"

Chekov's arm twitched, left hand curling into a fist. Nothing to do? Just because he was younger then they were didn't mean he had nowhere to be! In fact, the logical conclusion would be to think that he did have somewhere to be! Even if it was just a party, most people his age always had somewhere to go on Christmas.

But Kirk was pulling that face, with the large eyes and the stuck out lips, that even Spock had a hard time resisting. For a moment, he almost said 'yes'. Chekov's mouth was open to say it but the words were stuck in his throat, choking him and reminding him of exactly who he'd been planning on visiting when they went over Russia, and he couldn't get them out.

"Da, Keptain, I do mind." The words were soft and quick, because Chekov didn't trust himself to get them out otherwise. "I hawe already promised somewone zhat I would be in Russia zhis week. Sorwy."

And with that, the small blond pushed himself from his chair and swept down the hallway; motions stiff and forced, smile gone from his face. He felt bad saying no, because it meant someone else would have to give up their vacation and miss the opportunity to see a relative, but he couldn't not go this year.

He'd promised Felicie that he'd bring her something from space the first time they passed over his home-country, along with the tulips he always brought. The chunk of space-rock, polished until it was smooth, was already picked out.

Her grave was going to be beautiful by the time his leave was up, Chekov would make sure of it.