That Blue Gibson: Etc.

The IKEA Bunk Bed

**Request: "More of Dad Dave, please!" I got this request at 2am where I live and was so into it that I've been up since then writing. Send me more, you guys!**

"Uh..."

Dave stared down at the various-sized bolts in his hand and then up at Jack and Owen. 

"Maybe don't play on it yet, guys. I think I messed up."

Owen's excited grin fell into a pout while Jack only appeared confused, looking around the lower bunk of the bed he was sitting on. "But... it's all put together."

"Yeah," Dave muttered and reluctantly reached for the instruction book that had been arrogantly tossed aside when the bed's box had been ripped open over two hours earlier, "But I think I missed a step or something. There's too many leftover parts."

"Can I go watch the movie with Phee?" Owen, to his credit, was trying his very best not to whine, "I'm so bored!"

"Yeah, man. Go for it," Dave's concentration was on counting out the part list, but caught Owen just before he made it to the door, "Be quiet in the hallway though, okay? Your mom's trying to put David down for his nap."

His green eyes, far too big for his little face and identical to Liz's, went wide and he nodded solemnly before exaggerating his tiptoe out the door. Dave snorted a laugh and returned to the task in front of him but not before shooting a glare at the hulking piece of new furniture towering in the corner of Jack's bedroom. 

"How can I help?"

Dave glanced over at Jack and reached out to push his lengthening hair out of his eyes. He was nine now, going on ten, and insisting that he wanted to grow his blonde hair long like his Uncle Taylor's. Ever since the baby had arrived he was suddenly acting like an adult, which was worrying Dave more than just a little. He'd abandoned the planet-themed bedroom he'd loved so much in favor of a more 'grown-up' style, with one of Dave's old desks from the studio to do his homework on and the new bunk bed so he wouldn't have to share with his brother when Owen inevitably snuck in in the middle of the night. He was also asking an average of eighty questions an hour.

"Decipher these Swedish hieroglyphics for me, will ya?" Dave asked, handing over the instructions and unfolding himself from the floor. "See if you can figure out where I messed up."

Jack studied the booklet while Dave crawled under the bottom bunk to check his work. He was tightening bolts with the crappy hex key that had come with the bed when Jack shifted on the mattress above him. 

"Hey, Dave? How can you sleep next to Mom every night?"

He almost cracked a joke about wondering that himself since both he and Liz were such light sleepers but Jack had been blessed with a very literal personality and Dave didn't want to have to explain any more than he needed to. "I like having her next to me," he said simply, hoping that would be the end of it.

"Do you have nightmares or something? She always lets me sleep next to her when I have bad dreams."

"Not really," he grunted into tightening a particularly difficult bolt, "Maybe she keeps them away."

"Doesn't she kick though? Owen kicks me in his sleep."

Dave sighed and let his arm rest against the carpet for a moment, feeling completely defeated by a stupid Ikea bunk bed, "No, there isn't a lot of kicking." Except for that thing she does when I-

"Dave?"

"Yeah, bud?"

"How did Mom get pregnant again?"