***Same disclaimer as always.***

Kjiersten studied Dana carefully as the greenhorn adjusted the camera she'd mounted on the crane. It had been getting in their way every time they dumped pots, but this was the first time she'd ever seen one of these documenters notice when their slick camera tricks just didn't make the cut. She sipped her coffee slowly, watching as the woman below struggled to break the camera free of the weather-proof mounting she'd so carefully set up before the season started.

If she had to guess, she'd put the woman around mid-30s, maybe slightly younger. It was hard to judge, really. She knew didn't personally look her age most of the time, the price you paid out on the Bering. Maybe Dana had her own story. She smirked at that thought, wondering what this woman could possibly have endured.

Dana hadn't bothered to throw her hood up or even pull her hair into the standard ponytail, so her shoulder-length strawberry blonde hair was blowing around in the occasional breeze. It looked good all mussed up, Kjiersten decided. She had almond-shaped hazel eyes that were always scanning, always looking around as if she expected something to jump out at her. She looked strong, too; not as strong as a crabber, but certainly able to hold her own in any other situation. She was taller than Kjiersten, but only by a few inches, and she lacked the muscle to boast that she was bigger, not that she would have tried. Overall, Kjiersten had to admit that she was attractive. A pain in the ass, but a cute one. She wouldn't win any beauty pageants, but she had this natural glow to her, this aura of confidence that Kjiersten respected. She didn't particularly like the woman, but she did have a grudging respect for her.

"Stop staring."

Kjiersten smiled as her dad set a fresh cup of coffee in front of her just as she finished off the one she'd been nursing her whole watch. "I'm not staring. I'm assessing the enemy."

Norman glanced at Don, who was asleep in the chair, and cracked a grin. "She's not the enemy. Maybe if you took the time to know her."

"I don't think so," she shook her head. "She has to prove herself first. I'll get to know her after I know I can trust her."

"Um…think about that one…" Norm made a face, and Kjiersten laughed.

"Yeah, yeah, I know. But, hey, she still hasn't atoned for her crimes, and until she does something marvelous, I have to keep that in the back of my mind."

Norman sighed and sank onto the bench. "She didn't do anything wrong. I just overreacted."

Kjiersten snorted at that and sipped her coffee. "Overreact? Dad, you barely react to shit. Hell, I practically thought she was pregnant with your baby or something, the way you acted."

"She asked what my family thought about you being on the boat." He let that comment sink in for a minute, either for impact or so he could collect his thoughts. "Probably just meant Sig and Ed, but…my head went…you know…"

"To mom."

"Yeah. To your mom."

Kjiersten looked back out to the deck, but Dana was gone. The wind was picking up again, blowing a storm front their way. It was only a matter of time before Sig kicked her out of his chair to go haul and reset the pots they were coming up on. She wrinkled her nose at that, not looking forward to the grind ahead. She hated when they had to work their asses off to get all the pots reset before a storm. Sig would be on their cases the whole damn time.

"But she didn't bring her up, you know. I just…it reminded me."

"I know," she murmured out at the water. "Would've done the same to me. I think about her a lot. I can't remember her much, you know?"

"You were young," Norm nodded, glancing warily as Don stirred. It was hard to tell if the producer was waking up or not, but he felt safe enough to continue. "Five years old. Doesn't feel that long ago."

"I remember the day, though. The day she died. I remember that. I still have the stuffed elephant Uncle Eddie bought me at the airport."

Norman chuckled. "Ye-ah, our flight was delayed, and he didn't really know what to do. Lord, what'd you call that thing...Ella…Bella…?"

"Bellie. Bellie the Ellie-phant," Kjiersten corrected with a sing-song voice. "And I've resewn her trunk 8 times over the years. Take her with me whenever I travel."

They both knew to end the conversation as Don rubbed his eyes swung his hand out until he found his camera. It was their unwritten rule to never talk when one of them was touching a camera. They both turned back to the water, lost in their own thoughts. Don looked between them, looked at his camera, and heaved a sigh. So much for that.

Edgar let out a whoop as Dana stepped back, foreseeing what would happen next. There was no deck under her foot, only air, and she yelped as she went down. Her arms smacked against the edges of the tank, stopping her from falling in completely, but the damage was done. At first, she thought Edgar was the only one that noticed over the wind, rain, and waves whipping around them, but she had no such luck. Even in the middle of the storm they were in, the crew noticed when someone did something stupid.

"Beer!" Matt announced through the rain, pumping his fists in the air. "First round's on her!"

She laughed it off and grasped the hand Norman offered to very ungracefully haul herself out of the tank. "Thanks. That was terrifying."

"That," Norman smirked, eyes glinting at her under his hood, "was nothing. Make sure you check for bruises later."

"Y'know? I think that's the most you've ever said to me," she grinned, checking her camera for damage. Norman shrugged and offered a smile before heading back to the rail. Kjiersten wasn't on the hook this string, but instead of just switching with someone, the whole deck had shuffled to accommodate so Edgar was on hydros and Norman was on hook instead.

"So," Dana propped her camera back on her shoulder and approached Kjiersten at the rail where she was waiting for the next pot, "why aren't you on the hook today?"

She shrugged and grabbed the pot as it came over the side, making a face at the mediocre haul. "I'm a delicate flower, and my uncle doesn't want me on the hook in storms. Thinks I'll get washed overboard."

Dana paused to wipe rain off her lens before prompting, "Which Uncle?"

"Pick one," she grunted, guiding the pot onto the dogs.

"What does your dad think?"

Kjiersten made a face, finally done with this camera business. "I dunno. Go ask him yourself. I'm kinda busy right now." Matt and Nick both snorted at that but kept their focus on their sorting so they didn't make eye-contact when Dana shot a look at them.

So, that was exactly what Dana did. She carefully made her way around the table to Norman and pointed her camera at him. He glanced at her, looked back at the table, snapped his head back to the camera, looked back at the table, and sidestepped away.

"Oh, no," she shook her head. "Come on! One question! I promise!" He shot her a sideways glance and stayed silent. "Norman Hansen! I'm not going away so you better just talk to the damn camera already!"

He felt eyes on him and met Edgar's taunting look with the Hansen glare. He used it so rarely that, combined with the few years he had over Edgar, the youngest Hansen looked away with just a smirk on his face. Kjiersten, however, kept glancing up at the exchange; he knew she wished she could hear what was going on, but she was too focused on listening for Sig's warnings over the hailer. With the wind and rain as loud as they were, she could only focus on one. No matter how protective she was of him, she wouldn't risk everyone's safety over it.

"Fine," he consented. "What'd'ya want?"

"Why pull Kjiersten off the rail in storms?"

He opened his mouth to talk, looked over at her, sighed shortly, and looked back at Dana. "S'not altogether safe, is it?"

"Why not?"

"Rail's the most dangerous place on the boat," he explained, spreading his legs to get better balance as a smaller wave washed over the deck. It wasn't enough to knock anyone over, but it made Jake stumble a bit as he headed back to the bait station so they could dump the pot back. "Can't see waves 'til they're right on you. If anyone's gonna go over on a boat, it's the one throwing the hook."

"So why let her throw at all?"

"You try telling her 'no' sometime," he grinned, glancing over to where his daughter was flipping off Jake for struggling a bit with the buoys at the coiler. In his absence, they'd stuck Junior at the rail, and she loved to tease him for every little mistake. "You have kids?"

"I…" Dana stopped and stepped back at the sudden role reversal. She didn't like questions coming back her way. "N-no. I don't have kids."

Norman nodded to himself. "They're a pain in the ass. You love 'em to pieces, but there are times I'd love to shove her overboard myself."