First IG fic. It's rated T for being slightly darker than K+ (and that's not very dark, to be honest). Anyway, it contains a shout-out to The Little Prince and some things I intentionally left ambiguous.
Disclaimer: I don't own Inspector Gadget or The Little Prince.
Whir. Click. Beep. Bleep. Processing %$1?...
Sterile smells. Smell = sensory factor. Boring voices, hushed, mumbling sounds. Familiar. Familiar. The deep mumbling- processing. Q- Quimby. Von. Von Slickstein.
"No, no, that won't do."
Jolts. Flying sparks. Zappity zap zap.
"Re-attach it. The wire goes there."
Sppaarrrrkity spark.
"Not there! He's not a robot!"
Voices. Mumbling. "Serious." "Repair." Here. There. One more voice. + + One more. Soft. Quiet. Young. Familiar. Familiar.
Unintelligible. Pleading. Sound = female. "Please." Muffled. "Please."
Click. Snap. Beep.
Voice. Voice = Penny. #$...; 12+…
Processing. Where- where-where. "… not going to deactivate… are you?" Choking. Muffled. Penny. "No."
System checking. Member function. Command SEAR—CH. Where. Penny = where?
Buzz. Click.
Wet day. 12=!**## Summer. Winter. PENNY& DOG. New. Processing.
Zap.
The first time the inspector laid eyes on penny was on a rainy November day. There she was, his supposed "niece," eyes red and puffy, and he was at a loss for words.
"Hi there," he said.
"You already said that," replied the child (no older than seven by the looks of it).
"Oh."
The rain viciously pattered the roof. His hand stayed on the door.
"Uh… hello there."
She didn't dignify him with a reply this time. Glaring daggers was enough.
"Do you want a sandwich?"
She marched past him, head bowed, the little suitcase rolling behind her.
"So is that a yes?"
She stopped and sucked in a breath before meeting his eyes. "Are you going to close that door or not?" she shot.
He quickly closed the door, his left sleeve catching onto the knob and effectively slamming his whole person into it.
"Hold on a minute, P-…, I'll getcha that sandwich in no time."
As soon as he said that, Gadget tried to leave the door, only to slam into it again as the sleeve curled around the knob. He really wondered whose bright idea it was to add knobs to doors. He threw his weight forward again, and somehow managed to free himself, knocking into a pillar which sent him back to the door, which prompted a collection of objects to crash from the space above the door (why did he put them there anyway?) which fell on his head as he clumsily rolled on the ground.
The girl stood, stupefied, eyes wide in a mixture of amusement and horror. "Is that normal for you?"
"Only sometimes. You know these pesky doors."
The inspector stood up, again cracking a dopey smile.
"So about that sandwich-"
"I want to put my stuff away first."
"Right, stuff- let's just put that upstairs. There's a nice room I cleared the other day."
She began moving toward the stairs. He beat her to it.
"You know what, let me take those things, P…"
"Penny," she snapped as he picked up the case.
"Right, Peony."
She groaned but he was too busy climbing the stairs to notice. As oblivious and inept as he was, Inspector Gadget knew when he was messing up badly and he knew that he was messing up very badly. Wowsers, this is harder than I thought.
Chief Quimby said that it would be a "piece of cake." If so, Gadget wondered what kind of cake he was referring to because taking care of a child was something he really didn't know how to do. In fact, he had no experience with child-care whatsoever.
"I'm going to the bathroom," she told him quietly when they reached the second floor.
"Okay, you go do that and I'll just put your things-"
She disappeared.
"-over there."
The room he cleared for P- Peony(?) was drab and painfully boring. There was a closet, some drawers, and a bed. No other furniture or decorations were present.
Funny, I wonder what this was used for.
But Gadget was never one to dwell on odd questions for long. His niece's nose-blowing could be heard from down the hall. Quimby said her parents had just died (in a rather grisly affair at that) so it'd be best to "comfort" her.
He set the suitcase down.
Well, he had no experience with parents either but he knew that they were important, especially to a kid Pella's age. And he doubted that a sandwich or a boring little room would comfort her. He doubted he could ever comfort her.
The case rattled slightly. It must have been a trick of the eyes.
Now he'd have to replace the parents. And that was not a good thing. He wasn't built for parenting… or maybe he was. Maybe there was a gadget for parenting; it was worth a shot- after all, random things like umbrellas had popped up when he need them. He tried to prove it.
"Go go gadget- parenting!"
And nothing happened. Nope, he was not built for parenting.
The case moved. Gadget wondered how long Pella would take in the bathroom; he hoped she wouldn't be upset by how messy it was. He'd have to clean it soon.
Wait. The case moved.
He picked up the case and shook it. An odd whining emerged.
"Wowsers! Peola, your suitcase is alive!" he shouted.
Tik. Tok. Zap. *&!/cout
"They- they said I wasn't allowed to take him," she explained tearfully, "so I put him in there."
Peola held the puppy closer to her chest. It looked at him mournfully.
"I am a detective- it'd be hard to pull one over me."
"I know," she whispered sarcastically.
"So what now?"
"Let me keep him, please."
The dog barked in agreement. Gadget stroked his chin. He didn't have any experience with dogs either except for the time a mob of them chased him down for pizza but he'd rather not dwell on that.
"His name's Brain."
"Well, I don't know about this, Pelly."
"Please… inspector."
They were both staring at him with wide, teary eyes. Inspector Gadget had never been able to stand people crying.
"Okay."
Sighing in relief, the girl buried her face in the puppy's head as it barked joyously. Gadget felt like he had forgotten something.
"The sandwich! You must be starving by now- I'll get you one right away. Oh, and vegetables. Kids need vegetables!"
Rambling, he ran away from his niece and her dog.
Several minutes later, a mechanical arm stretched from the kitchen and a hand holding a plate consisting of a tuna sandwich and lettuce appeared before Penny's eyes.
And she screamed.
"Did you get it?" the inspector asked, coming out of the kitchen, walking forward until his body was again joined to his arm.
He looked around. The plate remained untaken in his hand.
"Pelly, where are you?"
He saw her hiding behind the couch, clutching at Brian(?). He took a step forward and she shrank back.
"What's wrong?"
Her eyes looked like they were about to fall out of her sockets.
"Was it the tuna? I knew I should have gone with ham! Sorry about that-"
"Y- your arm."
"My arm? What's wrong with it?"
He checked both arms. They seemed normal to him. Wait. Oh. Realization dawned on him.
"I guess they didn't tell you."
"T- tell me what?"
"It's kind of hard to explain, Peolly. I'm not much of a science person but, well, uh, I'm not completely organic."
Her lips quivered. "Y- you mean, you're not human?"
That wasn't exactly the explanation he was going for but Gadget had never been very eloquent.
"Not completely; I mean, just the limbs, some skin, my head, my-"
"That's a lot."
"It's nothing to be scared of."
"W- what else can you do?"
"Go go gadget, arm."
A third arm extended from the inspector's hat. And Penny's jaw dropped.
"Did that come from the hat or your head!"
"I never gave it much thought, actually."
They stared at each other in awkward silence. Then Pelly(?) burst in tears. Wowsers, this is a really hard piece of cake.
Processing. NIGHT. When? = #years.
Click. Tap. Buzz. Churn.
"Careful, now."
Zap. Zappity. Zap.
"Oil… blood… don't mix them up."
Twist.
Gadget kicked the door open. And breathed a sigh of relief when he found his niece safe and sound in the covers of her bed.
She was trembling, the tears on her face glistening in the dark. She was clutching Brean(?) so tightly that the whites on her knuckles could be seen.
"Wowsers, you gave me a scare."
"T- this is real, right?" she hiccupped.
The inspector entered the room. She looked really upset. And it really made him upset. "What's wrong?"
"I- I had a bad dream."
"Those are the worst."
He sat on the edge of the bed. "You wanna talk about it?"
"I- it was about my parents. We- we… were happy… then- then…"
She sobbed. Awkwardly, he patted her soft head.
"And now I'm here and they're… and nothing's ever gonna be okay."
"Aw, don't be so negative."
"No! Nothing's ever- every going to be the same! I'm all alone!"
"I'll take care of you."
She looked at him sharply before the words left her mouth: "but… you're a robot."
That stung a bit. She gave a yelp as he spontaneously picked her up.
"I guess you can't sleep well now. Let's go downstairs- read a book or something."
A few minutes later, they were flipping through an old picture book. The inspector lay on the couch, the girl resting against his chest without objection, and the dog on her leg.
"Mom gave me the same book… for my birthday."
A nearby cuckoo clock chimed 2 AM.
"Then that means you know what happens next."
"The rose gets ea-"
"Don't spoil it!"
"You haven't read this before?"
"I don't think so."
"But it's yours."
"Which is why it'd be unfair if you spoiled it."
She giggled involuntarily. It was the first time Gadget had heard the girl laugh all day and the sound was surprisingly wonderful.
She yawned.
"Inspector, tell me about my parents."
That caught him by surprise. It was an innocent request, almost painfully so, and he suddenly felt monumentally guilty for what he was about to say.
"I… I can't."
"Please."
"I'm really sorry, Penel, honest, I am- but I really can't."
"Why not?" Her voice was again laced with hints of sobbing.
"I don't remember them. I don't even know which one I'm related to. Wowsers, I'm sorry."
"Can you try?"
She put one soft hand on his. Gadget shook his head.
"Something's blocking them. Code B/1194. That's the only thing that pops up. I'm sorry, but I really can't remember them. To be honest, I can't remember anything before…"
He trailed off. That incident probably wouldn't give his niece sweet dreams. It'd be a better idea not to mention it.
"Then are we even related?"
"Sure we are!"
"How do you know?"
"I'm the greatest detective in Metro City- of course I'd know!"
She sniffled. He took that as a sign of agreement. He flipped the page of the book.
"So where'd we leave off?"
"The wheat field."
"Right, the wheat field! I don't know about you, Pelli, but I think this is one weird story we're reading."
"My name's Penny, P-E-N-N-Y," she enunciated, spelling it out for him on a piece of A4 paper.
"I know that."
"You were calling me things like Pelly and Peola and Peana."
"I was?"
Penny sighed, exasperated before returning to her drawings. The calendar was nearing the end of November and Thanksgiving had arrived, marking their second week together.
"Today's Thanksgiving Pe-knee! I nearly forgot."
Gadget scratched the back of his head. He had spent all his previous thanksgivings dining out or microwaving some frozen pot pie. But from what he could discern from all those magazine ads and television programs, everyone else spent theirs as a family, crowded around tables filled with food and laughing and giving thanks.
Then it hit him. Peknee's family must have been like that! How was he supposed to live up to that?
"So how do you celebrate Thanksgiving, Peknee?"
She looked at him nostalgically. "We'd have these little dinner parties, and mom would cook chicken pot pie and a turkey and dad would buy the mashed potatoes. And some friends would come over, and we'd tell stories and- and jokes until I fell asleep…"
She frowned. "But not anymore."
Wowsers! How was he supposed to live up to that?
"Live up to what?" she asked.
"Oh, uh, nothing."
He scratched his chin in thought. Maybe the girl would have been happier in some foster home but according to Quimby, that wasn't an option. For some reason, she only had two choices: her uncle or the orphanage. Gadget assumed the reason wasn't important since the chief didn't tell him what it was, but he had to admit that it was peculiar.
Except he wasn't the best guardian ever. Everything he did made the girl give him odd looks or sigh in resignation; the only time she had actually smiled was the first night she came, when they read the story. And he wasn't even sure if they were related. They didn't look alike at all. Or even act alike.
What silly thoughts! Of course they were related. Or maybe not that silly.
The question buzzed at his brain all the way to the supermarket. It bugged him so much that he forgot to take the Gadgetmobile and ended up walking the whole way. And never before had anything actually succeeded in bugging the inspector's brain.
"Inspector, what are you doing!"
Pe-knee's face was contorted in a look between disgust and humor. It wouldn't be surprising if she felt both because Gadget was sprawled on the kitchen floor, a turkey Brain's size stuck on his head. Brian sniffed the turkey.
"Well—mmmmmm."
"I can't understand you."
"Ruff! Ruff!"
Pe-knee and the puppy each took an end of the turkey, falling backwards as they pulled it off. Gadget rubbed at his head. "Wowsers, that was a turkey-full."
"Now, Pe-knee, let's put that thing on the table and start eating. I'm sta-arving."
The child followed him to the table and peered over its top as he rather ungracefully slammed the turkey on it.
"Happy thanksgiving. Wait, are we supposed to say something before eating?"
Both the dog and the girl were giving him disappointed looks that said what? That's all we're having.
"Well… we're supposed to say what we're thankful for first. That's what dad taught me."
"Okay, then why don't you start Brean?"
"Ruff."
"That was eloquent! What about you, Pe-knee?"
She looked lost in thought. Dejectedly, the girl hopped into a chair and stared at her own feet. "Is anyone else coming, inspector?"
Anyone else? Right, she said her parents invited friends. Well, he could always invite Chief Quimby but he doubted the man would come. It made him feel a bit guilty for letting the kid down again.
"No."
She smiled softly. "Then let's say grace first. I'm hungry too."
The inspector took his seat, about to ask her how exactly they say grace.
Processing protocol ./!#. NIGHT. WEEK 4. DAYS.
Gadget set the razor aside. For some reason, he still grew facial hair and he had to admit it would make his life a lot easier if he didn't. He inspected himself in the mirror one last time. Good enough.
He turned around and nearly bumped into his niece. She was fidgeting, as if she was debating whether to look him in the eye of look at the floor.
"You need something?"
"I- I found something in my room."
"What'd you find?"
She ignored his question and walked up to the sink. She pointed at the toothbrush holder; the small, pink one was hers and the large white one was his. There were exactly two holes in the holder.
"Everything here looks like it's for two people."
He laughed. "The funny thing, Penea, is that I noticed that too! It's pretty strange, right?"
She shook her head. This clearly troubled her.
"I mean, there are two towel racks, two desks in your study, two mugs in the cabinet… and I know I shouldn't have gone in, but I wanted to see what it looked like… there are two pillows on your bed."
He didn't understand what was so unsettling about this; he left the other pillow on the bed because it felt awkward without it. The arrangement of the house made him a bit awkward when he first returned to it but it wasn't anything too troublesome.
"Who was the other person?"
"What other person?"
"The other person that lived here?"
He patted her head. "I don't know so it's probably not important."
Code B/1194.
"But inspector, your bed, it's as big as my parents'."
"I like big beds."
"T- that's not what I meant."
"So what'd you find, Peknee."
"There was this box in the closet. I found some pictures."
"Wowsers! I forgot to toss that old thing out!"
She was about to say something but he cut her off. "Chief says the things inside are off limits. Looking at them would be against the law!"
Pe-knee had that depressing look again. He squatted beside her.
"Anything else you want to talk about?"
She blushed from embarrassment. "I want you to finish the story. We left off at the well."
Applying. Memory XXX. 1234/!# Churn.
Zap. Grind.
Somewhere along the line, Inspector Gadget had gotten used to the barks of the puppy and the presence of the girl. He was used to walking down the hallway and seeing his niece's shadows against the door, or the window, or on the floor.
He was used to buying dog food and happy meals. He was used to seeing Penea's toothbrush in the holder and her things in the cabinets. He was used to her snide remarks behind his back, her groans, her disappointments, her occasional smiles.
Her drawings were tacked up all over the house. Her books took up half of their shelf. Her clothes took up half the laundry. There was an increase in dishes needing washing, an increase in clothes needing ironing, an increase in the food he bought, an increase in the money he spent, an increase in the time he wanted to stay at home.
"Inspector, do you think it was my fault?" she asked one night.
"What was?"
"Mom and dad."
He nearly jumped until his head hit the roof of the Gadgetmobile.
"Of course not! Whatever gave you that idea!"
Her head was turned away from him, staring outside the window.
"I could've helped," she said quietly, "I knew I could have."
The lights turned yellow, then red. He pressed the brakes. "Pelaney, if my years of detective work have taught me anything, it's that there's a start to everything. And there are victims of that start. Some things just can't be helped."
"But you weren't there."
"Even if I was, it's not your fault, and you shouldn't think it was."
"You weren't there!" she snapped at him. "You didn't help and I didn't help! And now they're dead, dead, dead!"
Several cars honked at him. "Now, you listen here, Pe-knee, blaming yourself won't help anything!"
"I'm not blaming myself! I'm blaming you and myself!"
Her voice was rising. "You're a detective! You fight crime- you were supposed to be there! You were supposed to be their brother!"
"Can we talk about this later-"
"Hey! Move it bozo!" someone shouted.
He stepped on the gas. It was the first time the child had a tantrum. And again, he didn't know how to respond.
It happened the day after his niece's outburst. She left a wrinkly note on the fridge:
Inspector,
Me and Brain are going to find mom and dad. Goodbye.
Gadget had returned from work that day (apparently a false alarm by MAD) and something was amiss. The house felt exactly as it had in the days before his supposed niece's arrival.
And there stuck to the refrigerator were those words. His first response had been "huh"? He stared at it again. And again. And again.
His second response was "wowsers!"
He ripped the note off and stuffed it in his pocket. Okay, no need to worry. He was an investigator. He should be able to know where she went. Wait. Find mom and dad? That was impossible!
Unless they planned to kill themselves.
Or maybe it was just a blatant excuse to run away.
Okay, what he thought before was a lie. Inspector Gadget couldn't remember a single instance in his life where he had actually been worried but now, he was downright terrified.
Wowsers! What if they get killed by MAD? What if they get hit by a car? What if some pervert tries to do things perverts do to them!
Moving faster than he ever knew he could, the inspector grabbed a picture of the girl and bolted from the house. He didn't bother locking the door. He didn't bother climbing into the Gadgetmobile- he couldn't afford to wait for red lights.
"Go go gadget, legs!"
And he ran. And ran. And ran. And ran.
"Go go gadget, helicopter! Go go gadget, binoculars!"
No sign of them. The neighborhood faded out of view. And it took a minute for him to realize it was raining. Wowsers! What if they catch a cold?
The bulk of Metro City came into focus. Cars. People. Buildings. But no PENNY. Her name was Penny. P-E-N-N-Y.
And he'd be damned if he actually let anything happen to her.
Because his niece was like the sun, for lack of better word. In fact, she made him realize that story, that story, The Little Prince, that's it. She made him realize that story wasn't strange at all.
Penny was the little prince(ss). She was the little alien that entered his world. And he was the pilot. He was the pilot and now his little prince needed her pilot. Before anyone could eat her rose.
"Ma'am, have you seen this little girl?" he asked the fiftieth person that came into view, holding up Penny's picture. The old woman shook her head apologetically.
Gadget rushed to the next pedestrian. The response was negative. He tried again. Still negative.
"Excuse me sir, have you seen this child?"
"Her name's Penny, she has a puppy named Brain?"
"She's this tall and the puppy's this big?"
"She's seven years old?"
All negative.
He dashed into the narrow alleys and lifted the lids off trashcans. He kicked piles of bricks away, he used his binoculars to peer into windows. Trashcans. Sewers. Buildings. Cars. He checked them all.
"Go go gadget magnifying glass!"
The inspector wasn't sure how many different areas he had checked for footprints but none of that mattered. He checked the walls. Nothing.
The rain was practically drowning the city, so heavy that his trench coat was weighted down. Penny must be uncomfortable.
"Go go gadget, umbrella." It hadn't crossed his mind to use it earlier.
He extended his head and searched the sidewalks. And his heart skipped a giant beat. There it was, a paw print, and next to it a sneaker. They were both small enough to belong to a child and a puppy. He just hoped it was the right duo.
Wowsers, he really really hoped it was the right duo!
He stumbled into another puddle. "Penny!"
Gadget wiped the magnifying glass clean and continued following the trail of prints. He came to another alley.
"Penny, are you in there!"
"Penny!" he called again, mist escaping his mouth.
Stepping on some cigarettes left on the sidewalk, he approached the alley, which was bareley sheltered by the roofs of two dilapidated buildings.
"Penny!"
He was standing at its entrance. "Penny! Brain!"
In the shadows he saw two figures huddled beneath a soggy cardboard box. One of the figures hesitantly looked up. The flash of blonde hair and those teary eyes.
"Penny…"
She left the box and slowly stepped toward him. She stopped, soaking wet and face streaming with tears. "Why?" she mouthed.
He walked towards her. "Listen, Penny, P-E-N-N-Y. I'm sorry, it's my fault. I'm not a good guardian. Wowsers, I'm not good at all; I couldn't even get your name right."
The puppy ran to its mistress's leg.
"I'm sorry that I wasn't there, like you said. I'm sorry that I don't remember your parents. I'm sorry that I couldn't give you a great Thanksgiving."
She didn't reply. Wowsers, now I want to cry.
"I didn't say what I was thankful for that day. I- I'm thankful for you, Penny. So please don't do this to me; I think I'd die if something happened to you."
She stayed rooted to the spot. He promptly yanked off his tie and ripped the front of his shirt open.
She backed away. "What a- are you doing?" she shot.
One gloved hand pointed at his bare flesh.
"I- I'm a cyborg, not a robot. It means I'm part human; I'm sorry that I wasn't clear on it. I still have a functioning heart, see? I'm sorry about everything."
Her lips quivered.
"And even if I was just a robot, what I wanted to say was… well, I- I love you, Penny, related or not."
He stayed where he was and so did she.
The girl took one step forward.
Then she ran.
She ran at him, all sobs and laughs.
"Uncle!" she shouted, "I knew I couldn't find them, uncle!"
She jumped into his arms and all Gadget could do was clasp a hand against her head and press his face against it. She smelled like shampoo, rain, and code B/1194.
Brain barked beside them.
Penny didn't know when or how, but one way or another, she fell in familial love with that strange, bumbling inspector. That awkward robot cop she had hated so much that first rainy day.
She had loved him since the night they began the first pages of The Little Prince. It had just taken up till now for her to admit it.
She rested her head on his shoulder, protected from the rain by the umbrella sticking out of his head, as he carried her on his back. Brain trotted beside them.
"Uncle Gadget."
"Yes?"
Related or not, I love you. The orphanage or some foster home were now dreadful options. For the first time in their one month together, Penny felt like she could be and stay happy.
"I'm sorry too."
"Not as sorry as your uncle."
They passed another tall building. She looked at the cars that drove past them, at the families crossing the streets.
"Do you really not remember anything that happened before that thing?"
"You're not going to ask about that thing, are you?"
"Maybe when I'm older."
"Then no, Penny. I really don't remember."
"But- but we don't need those old memories, right?"
"Well, I'm fine without 'em."
"And we can make new memories, right?"
He turned his head and smiled at her. "Ab-so-lute-ly."
She smiled softly, finally convinced that everything was going to be okay.
Whir. Buzz. Wind.
STOP. "Finally!"
Inspector Gadget wakes up to a dim, orange light and the smell of tomato soup. The soft bed shifts as he turns his head. Penny sits beside him, puffy(?) lids half closed and the bowl of soup on a nearby table. He hasn't seen her eyes so puffy since the day she first arrived at his doorstep.
He can't say that he's not relieved because he's beyond relieved. She is alright and that's all he asks for.
But the first thing that comes out of his mouth is not that thought but this "Wowsers, that hurt."
He feels as if he's been zapped by hundreds of electrons and that his body's been opened and closed repeatedly. He hasn't felt this bad since B/1194.
"Uncle, are you okay?"
"Yes," he lies. And she smiles.
Then he remembers what happened the day(?) or the week before. Whatever the case, the next thought that enters his mind is: Wowsers, Claw really was trying to kill me this time, huh?
He traces the bandages that cover his real flesh. Maybe he wouldn't feel this bad if he really was a full robot.
Then he remembers; Penny needs a human. And he feels guilty over his previous thought.
"Are you hungry?" she asks.
"I don't know."
She gives him the bowl of soup and it is so hot that it scalds. Her fingers are red. He doesn't bother to blow at it and drinks it all as it is.
"What happened to your fingers?"
"I burnt myself."
"Wowsers! That's terrible, Penny! Did you see a doctor- did you-"
She giggles softly and nods. She put medicine on it but it is nothing compared to the anxiety she felt before. Her uncle is alive and that is all she asks for.
Brain jumps on the bed and seems to sigh in relief. Then Gadget scratches his chin. His limbs feel stiff and even more metallic than before.
"So… did I win?"
"No… you lost… pretty badly." Well, it does explain a lot.
"Aw, shucks!"
Penny can't help but laugh. She climbs on the bed and slips beneath the blankets. The girl presses her ear against the inspector's chest, like she had done six years ago, and she can feel the warmth. She can hear the pounding of the heart.
"Do you want a mirror, uncle?"
"No, I'm probably all bruised."
"Worse, actually."
"I'm not disfigured am I?"
She chuckles. "No, it's nothing that won't heal."
Brain licks her face, then his ("Ouch! Brain!"). Penny hugs the dog and pecks her uncle's cheek. He wraps an arm around her and pecks her forehead. Penny smiles again, warm, content.
"It's really late now," she comments.
"It is?"
"But I can't sleep now. I think we should read a story, uncle."
"Sure thing, Penny. It's been a while."
"Let's read The Little Prince."
Brain barked in agreement. "I liked that story. Let's do that."
Before anyone moves to get the book, Penny just sits and relaxes. Everything is going to be okay. Then she says, out of the blue:
"I love you, Uncle Gadget."
"I love you too, Penny."
And before anyone goes to get the book, they just sit.
That was... longer than I thought. But oh well, this was the perfect fandom to write for something warm. Nothing left to say but please review and I hope you liked that.
Now for my big confession: I didn't grow up with this show. I've just seen enough youtube clips to (hopefully successfully) grasp their characters. And I hope I did the original fans justice.
I based everything on the cartoon; the "movies" just don't match the cartoon, like, at all.