The newly appointed Captain fumed. "This is…" He paused. "unacceptable." Out of the corner of his eye he noticed Sulu arching an eyebrow at his Spock-like choice of words. He didn't care. The whole bridge crew was watching him and he had to get this right. He had to put a stop to it. "It's dangerous and stupid. If it becomes a habit…"

"It von't." Chekov said softly, the combination of public humiliation and a vicious hangover made his accent even thicker. "I'm sorry, Keptin."

Kirk briefly considered accepting the apology but decided against it. A captain had to be strong. He had to set an example for his crew. He had to nip all infractions in the bud.

It had been a month since he had killed Nero. A week since he had relieved Admiral Pike of command of the Enterprise. Five days since they had begun their mission to seek out new life and civilizations.

This was the first time he had had to enforce discipline. It made him feel scummy. Hypocritical. And of course it had to be the kid who showed up for work reeking of vodka…maybe I shouldn't have done this publicly. "You are relieved from duty for the day, Mr. Chekov."

The teenager all but ran from the bridge. It was unclear which of them felt worse.

Bones was not as sympathetic as Kirk would have liked. "You yelled at him in front of the whole bridge crew?" He shook his head. "Never thought you'd be a stickler for rules." He pushed the red disc forward on the checkerboard. They met once a week for a checker game, more because they wanted to talk than out of any liking for the game. Usually the game was spiced up with some whiskey but Kirk hadn't felt like drinking that week.

"He showed up hung over. He couldn't add two and two together, let alone do navigational equations." Kirk defended himself, skipping the black disc over and taking the red one.

"Where'd he get the vodka anyway? You should have asked."

"Yeah, that would have gone over well. 'Hey Chekov, I'd like to know where you got the booze.'"

Bones studied the board. "I'm not saying you should have let him off. Just that yelling at him in front of the bridge…" He shrugged. "Isn't that kind of mean?"

"I'm not mean."

"I didn't say you were I just said…"

"Forget it." Kirk stood up. "I've got to go talk to Spock."

"Jim…"

"It's okay." Kirk forced a smile. "I'll talk to you later Bones." He squared his shoulders and left the doctor's living quarters without another word.

Bones stared at the checkerboard for another few seconds before picking up his red disc and calmly skipping over three of Kirk's black ones.

The lights were turned off and most of the First Officer's quarters were shrouded in darkness. The only light came from three candles perched on his dresser. They were white and of uniform height, having been lit at the same time. There was little air movement and the flames did not flicker. They were in perfect order, same as everything else in the room.

Mr. Spock sat on his bed facing the candles. His eyes were closed and his breathing was steady. He was perfectly still. Hand anyone else been in the room they would have thought he was a statue rather than a Vulcan.

Half-Vulcan. Which was why he meditated so often. It would not do to let his human side dominate. Especially not now, when the crew needed stability. Needed reassurance that their commanding officers were able to lead and not just point and shoot. He needed to meditate.

The knock interrupted that. Despite his three hour ritual of concentration he couldn't prevent a brief surge of irritation. Damn. "Enter."

The doors swooshed open and Kirk stepped in. "Captain." He greeted. "What is the purpose of your visit?"

"I need to talk to you."

"That is obvious or else you wouldn't have come here." For a second the Captain looked insulted. Then he realized it was a statement of fact rather than a brush off and relaxed.

"I want to talk to you about Chekov."

"Indeed."

"You're a Vulcan, you know about logic."

"Forgive me Jim, but I fail to see the connection."

Kirk scowled and sat down on the bed. "What would be the logical choice? What would you have done?"

"An inebriated navigational officer is a danger to the ship. The logical course of action would be to relieve him of duty until he was fit to serve."

"So you're saying what I did was logical?"

"Surprisingly so."

Kirk narrowed his eyes. There was no indication of it, but he could have sworn Spock was laughing at him. If Vulcans could laugh. "But would…" He was cut off by the swoosh of the doors and the entry of Lieutenant Uhura.

"Oh." She looked from one to the other, clearly embarrassed. Kirk wasn't sure why, half the ship knew she and Spock were in a relationship. He had seen them in far more intimate moments than now. Albeit they weren't in Spock's room. And he hadn't been sitting on Spock's bed. And she hadn't been wearing….that. Damn.

It was Spock that saved them. If the untimely meeting of his lover and his Captain embarrassed him then he wasn't showing it. "Welcome, Uhura. The Captain and I were discussing Mr. Chekov."

"We've decided what I did was logical." Kirk deadpanned.

"Humiliating him in front of the bridge crew was logical?" She looked at Spock. "I don't get it."

"I believe the Captain was referring to his decision to have Mr. Chekov relieved of duty."

She nodded. "Well that I can understand. The other thing was just mean."

Kirk fumed. "Bones said the same thing. I'm not mean!" He stood up and paced around the room. Uhura took his place on the bed and she and Spock watched him. "I'm just trying to be a good captain. Y'know, several philosophers noted that good leaders have to be mean sometimes. Not that I'm mean, but I do have a responsibility to the crew to keep them safe. I can't let a hung over kid navigate the ship. Whose great idea was it to send a seventeen year old kid into space anyway? He should be at the Academy." He looked at them for confirmation. "But I am not mean."

Uhura spoke first. "This isn't about Chekov."

"Of course it is..." Kirk started. Spock interrupted him.

"I believe Lt. Uhura is right. This is about you. You are wondering if you are fit for command."

"I saved the world!"

"An admirable accomplishment. But the trials faced then were different than now."

"This is not about me."

"All available evidence indicates it is."

"It isn't."

"I believe it is."

"Isn't."

Spock looked at Uhura. "The Captain is being illogical. You are also a human, and therefore illogical. Perhaps you can better understand him."

She looked amused. "I'll try."

"This is not about me." Kirk repeated.

"For the sake of argument we'll say it's not. It's about whether you did the right thing regarding Chekov."

"Okay."

"There's no argument that relieving him of duty was the right thing. The question is how you did it."

"Okay."

"What else could you have done?"

"I…" He faltered. "I don't know."

"I looked over your Academy records. Your performance in all leadership courses was exemplary." Spock said. "There is no logical explanation why you should falter now."

"Because that was the classroom and this is real life!" Kirk exploded. "I'm the youngest Captain in Starfleet. People depend on me to make good decisions and be mature!"

"So what do you think maturity means?" Uhura asked. Her voice was low and he found it soothing.

"In the past I always thought it was overrated. Hell, I probably would've bought him a case of beer to share with his high-school friends." Kirk shrugged. "Now…I guess it means a well run ship. And I can't afford any slip-ups because slip-ups mean people die." He looked at them. "This is about me."

"Indeed." Spock gave a slight nod. "You have realized that your previous disregard for rules and regulations is not appropriate or healthy."

"But just because you've grown up doesn't mean you have to be…act mean." Uhura pointed out.

Kirk nodded. "So…any suggestions?"

"People drink for a reason. Perhaps if you found out Chekov's reason it would repair your relationship and prevent future infractions?" Spock said.

"That's a good idea." Kirk looked at both of them. "Thanks." There was an awkward moment when he looked from Spock to Uhura and couldn't help but notice again what she was wearing. Hot damn! "I'll, uh, I'll just be going now. Don't do anything I wouldn't do."

Uhura gave a tolerant smile and pushed him out. "Good bye, Jim." When the doors swooshed shut, she sighed with relief and turned back to her lover. "Well. That was interesting."

"I am impressed with your use of logic to bring him to the correct conclusion that this was about him."

"You must be wearing off on me."

"Indeed."

"Would you like it if I 'wore off' on you a bit now?"

"Indeed."

The computer terminal told him that Chekov was located in Montgomery Scott's room. Without pausing to wonder what the teenager was doing there, Kirk hurried over. He knocked on the door and was a little concerned when he heard a thud and an "Ow!" from inside. There was another thud and the doors swooshed partially open to reveal his Chief Engineer.

"Hello there, Cap'n." The Scot raised a hand in greeting.

"Hello Scotty. Is Chekov here?"

"Aye." Scotty didn't move but kept standing in the doorway with a drunken smile on his face. "He is."

Kirk waited a moment before asking: "Can I come in?"

"O' course!" Scotty moved out of the way and the doors opened up. "He an' me an' Meg have been comparing our culture differences."

Kirk stepped in. "Meg…?"

"Lieutenant O'Malley. Works in admin. She an' I agree this ship needs an Englishman for us to beat up. She's celebratin' Irish independence." Scotty gestured over to his bed. From behind it popped up a cute and obviously drunk redhead. She waved and he waved back.

"O…kay. Where does Chekov fit into all of this?" Kirk asked. He had a feeling he wasn't going to like the answer.

"Oh, he's been tryin' to prove to us that vodka is better than whiskey." From her resting place on the bed, Meg shook her head no. "I say it's not Scottish so it must be crap."

"Scotty, you do know Chekov's seventeen right? He's a kid!"

"That young?" Meg spoke for the first time. Between her accent and the whiskey, Kirk could barely understand her. "Huh. Well, he's old enough to see over the counter."

"What counter?" Kirk was puzzled.

"The bar counter." She said, as if that explained everything.

"The Enterprise doesn't have a bar!"

"I know that. But…" She looked at her drinking partner. "Scotty, I'm too drunk for this. You explain."

"Aye." He inhaled as if preparing himself for a long, complicated explanation on the intricacies of Scottish and Irish drinking laws and regulations. "If you're tall enough to see over the counter then you're old enough to drink." Behind him Meg rolled over and off the bed, punctuating the declaration with a thud.

There was a moment of silence. Kirk raised his hand to his forehead and massaged his temples. "That's…that's…"

"I think they do somthin' different in England. Somethin' 'bout your age." Meg piped up.

"Another reason to hate the English. Not only did they kill William Wallace, but they card people at bars and prevent them from their God-given right to drink!" Scotty shook his head. "Bloody bastards."

"Is Chekov here?" Kirk asked suddenly. The conversation was giving him a headache.

"I'm…" a hiccup. "right here, Keptin." Chekov appeared in the doorway between the bedroom and the bathroom. His eyes were sunken in and his hair was messed up. He looked like hell.

"Mr. Chekov." Kirk said. "You're drunk again."

"Ja." He started to nod then stopped and winced. "I…proved that…"

"Mr. Chekov?"

The Ensign stumbled forward and threw up on Kirk's boots.

Bones sighed. "Put him on the bed." He waited until Kirk had laid the unconscious teenager down before taking out his medical instruments. "Well, the good news is he's breathing. The bad news is his breath stinks. I'd say…" He sniffed. "Vodka. Definitely vodka. What'd you do this time, punch him out?"

"I didn't do anything like that!" Kirk protested. "He threw up on my boots, said something in Russian, and passed out."

Bones looked down and wrinkled his nose. As a doctor he was used to gross stuff. But that didn't make it any less icky. "Do you know why he's suddenly turned to alcoholism?"

"Getting drunk twice doesn't mean he's an alcoholic. And no." Kirk sighed and sat down on a chair reserved for sickbay visitors. "I don't have a clue. Why, you got any idea?"

"I'm a doctor not a mind reader. If you want to know why he's drinking you'll have to ask him."

Kirk sighed. He was exhausted and the idea of having to interrogate his youngest crew member about his drinking habits was not a fun one. "I'm going to the bridge. When he wakes up…" He hesitated.

"When he wakes up I'm going to send him back to his quarters. He won't be in any shape to do anything."

"Send him back to his quarters and tell him to wait for further orders. Then let me know." Kirk stood up and was almost out of sickbay when Bones called after him.

"Jim?"

"Yes?"

"You might want to change your boots."

Four hours and twenty-eight minutes later Kirk hesitated. He didn't want to be a jerk but he was the Captain. He didn't have to knock. Eventually he decided that he was thinking about it too hard and knocked.

No answer.

He knocked again and when the doors didn't open he told the computer to let him in. The doors swooshed open without hesitation.

As with Spock's room the lights were off. However, there was no alternative light source and Kirk soon banged his knee against the dresser. He cursed and rubbed the spot. "Lights on!"

The room was flooded with light and he was distracted from the pain by a groan. Chekov was lying on the bed. "Lights…off…please." He begged. He didn't seem to notice Kirk was there, or if he did he didn't acknowledge him.

"Lights on!" Kirk said loudly, eliciting another groan. The kid could whimper all he wanted, he was Captain and he was not going to carry on this conversation in the dark.

Chekov didn't groan again but he did sit up and give Kirk a look that made him feel like he had kicked a puppy. A really sad little puppy with an impossible accent. "Keptin, I…." He paused. Begging an excuse, he rolled off the bed and dashed past Kirk and ran into the bathroom. A second later there was the unmistakable sound of illness.

After Kirk helped him back to the bed, he pulled the pillow over his head. "Keptin….please kill me."

"Did Dr. McCoy give you any medication?" Kirk pulled the pillow away.

"Nyet. He said that if I couldn't stand the hang over then I shouldn't drink. He said he couldn't cure stupidity."

"Wow. And he called me mean."

"Keptin?"

"Nothing." Kirk looked around for a chair. Not finding one he sat down on the bed. "You look like hell."

"Feel like it. Feel like…" He met Kirk's eyes. "Sorry."

"For what?"

"Dr. McCoy said you vere mad. Said to vait for you in my room. Said I threw up on your boots." He looked down. "I feel like I'm vaiting for Papa to come home."

The confession struck him as both hilarious and insulting. He wasn't that old and he didn't want to be anybody's 'Papa'. He took a deep breath. This was his real test of leadership, his big moment. He couldn't afford to fail. "Well, I owe you an apology too."

"But you're the Captain."

"Yeah, but I shouldn't have yelled at you. At least not in public."

There was a moment of silence. "Am I in trouble?" Chekov asked softly.

"Yes. Well, no. Yes."

"Keptin? My English is not that good."

Kirk allowed a ghost of a smile to cross his face. "If we're going to move past this I want to know: why?"

"Vhy I vas drinking?" Chekov shrugged and slumped further down in the bed. "The first time, I vas thinking about Russia and the time I vent to Saint Petersburg. Have you ever been there? Very lovely place. Especially the Church, with the colors…" He met Kirk's eyes and blushed. "Anyvay, I vas thinking about it and I remembered being allowed a sip of vodka. I found a bottle and vanted to remember the taste." He paused. "I think I remembered it too vell."

The smile lasted a little longer this time. "And this time?"

"I vas vith Scotty and ve vere talking about vere ve came from. He said he's been to Moscow. Said vhiskey is better than vodka. He said you can't get drunk on vodka and it's crap. I told him vhiskey is a Russian invention but he doesn't believe me. I vas telling him about General Vinter and Peter the Great vhen I got sick."

Slowly, Kirk started to get the picture. "You miss Russia?"

"Ja. I miss the snow and the bears and the dances. But not the vodka. There is too much vodka around for me to miss it." Chekov shrugged. "Nobody on the ship is from Russia. Some of them has visited but…" He shrugged again.

"I think I understand."

"Keptin? Can I ask a question?"

"Sure."

"Did you ever…" He hesitated.

"Go on."

"Did you ever get drunk? When you were young…er?"

Kirk laughed. "All the time! We had one bar in the whole town. It was past Anderson's cornfield, turn left at the stoplight…"

"The stoplight?"

"We only had one. Fred worked at the bar and he honestly had no idea that there was an age limit on drinking. My high school graduation party was awesome." He grinned at the fuzzy memory. "So yes, I did. But I wasn't responsible for navigating a space ship."

"Vill you put it on my record? The drinking?"

Kirk shook his head. "No. When other teenagers get drunk they get detention, not a permanent black spot that could screw up their careers."

"Dee-ten-chon?" Chekov sounded out the foreign word. "Vhat is that?"

"That is…." He thought fast. "working an extra shift with Mr. Spock for two weeks."

"I have to vork vith Mr. Spock?" The look on the Ensign's face told Kirk his idea was a good one. "He is…" The teenager caught his eyes. "Yes Sir."

"Yeah. That's what happens when you disobey my orders. You have to work with him." The more he thought about it the more appropriate it seemed. "Anyways…" Kirk stood up. "I want you to get some sleep. And the next time I see you, you had better be sober."

Meditate. Meditate. Meeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeditate. A knock at the door. Never fails. "Come in." Spock called out. Uhura had told him 'Enter' was unwelcoming. It was logical to keep her happy.

Kirk had a grin spread over his face, the sight of which made Spock arch an eyebrow. "Captain." He greeted.

"Mr. Spock, I am the most awesome captain to ever command a vessel ever."

"That is an illogical statement. The greatest captain to ever serve in Starfleet is widely considered to be…"

"Spock, I'm awesome. I just worked out that thing with Chekov. Turns out the kid was homesick."

"Indeed."

"Yeah. By the way, he'll be spending an extra shift with you for two weeks. Have fun."

Spock considered this for a moment. "Would I be correct in assuming this extra duty is a punishment?" Kirk nodded. "I see."

"Dunno if you know this, but working with you on a regular basis can be annoying. Extra duty with you would be torture."

"No, Captain, I did not know that."

"I can't hear you over the sound of how awesome I am."

Spock resisted the urge to sigh and roll his eyes. Just when he thought Kirk was growing up this happened. Humans were just so immature.

Finite.

Author's notes: Some stuff to say on this one. It was inspired by the part in the movie where Chekov says he's 17. Kirk was like 'Bzuh?' and I was like 'Bzuh?' because who sends a high school senior into space in a pseudo-military environment?

Then I thought that Kirk was about 25. That's pretty young for a command. He might have some trouble adjusting too. Saving the universe is different from running a ship.

Then I thought: well, how would a teenager without parental supervision handle homesickness? How would a young, new commanding officer handle discipline infractions? How would they mess up? How would they make it better? I originally intended this to be more action filled, but it ended up more about Kirk coming to terms with the idea that he has to grow up a little.

When I was seventeen I joined the Army Reserves. I was told several times that getting drunk (before or after I turned 21) would result in the destruction of my career. Rocks would fall, everyone would die, Sgt. A would weep tears of blood, the world would end and I would not feel fine etc. Guess what I did during my graduation party? And obviously, the world didn't end.

Anyways…the scene with Scotty was fun to write. I have an English boyfriend who tells me that there are parts of Scotland and Ireland that are just like that. If you can see over the counter, you can have a drink.

Kirk's story about his town is based partly on my own experiences. I drove through a town where they gave directions based on 'the' stoplight. The line 'I can hear you over the sound of how awesome I am' was stolen from a fake motivational poster with Shatner's image.

Star Trek does not belong to me. No money was made from this fic.