She'd climbed into her old bed, snuggling down into the quilt she'd had since childhood, when she saw the envelope sitting on her desk. Oh. The genetic results! I forgot! Curiosity renewed, she fetched the letter and ripped it open, plunking down among the pillows heaped at the head of her bed. At the start of the semester, all of Professor Quincy's biology classes had participated in the Human Genome Project. The prof had suggested they obtain samples from family members as well, reminding them that by doing so, they'd be assisting in research on inherited traits. Uncle Gadget had gamely donated a cheek swab after she'd patiently explained they didn't need to draw blood; he was deathly afraid of needles. Pretty funny, for a guy whose arm can't be punctured by one anyway! Smiling, she unfolded the results the study had sent. She studied her own DNA printout carefully, relieved when she saw nothing indicating any predisposition for cancer or hereditary illnesses. Then she flipped to Uncle Gadget's. She read through it, glancing at the grainy photo of the alleles.

She frowned, struck by something odd. She looked back at the capsule-shaped markers on her own page. Slowly, she reached over and turned her bedside lamp up to its brightest setting, then put her test results atop her uncle's and held both up to the light. The patterns visible showed almost no overlap.

Only three alleles in common? But that means...that means...

Stunned, she lowered the papers. She'd never been certain to which of her parents Uncle Gadget was related, and he couldn't remember; it had been one of those awkward blank spots in his memory, from things Before. Before she'd come to live with him. Before whatever had happened to him that had required an almost total rebuild of his body with electronic and mechanical parts. She'd asked him if he'd ever been married, years back, and he'd said no; regarding that aspect of his life Before, he was certain. She'd wondered whether he was closer in build and coloring to her mother or her father; she had no surviving photos of them, and her own memory didn't clearly indicate either of them as looking anything like her uncle...but she'd never even considered this.

Uncle Gadget isn't my uncle. We're not even related.

Did he know? She had no idea. He'd never treated her as anything less than blood family. She sat motionless, numb, trying to process this. He'd never acted as though she was an obligation or an assignment; he'd only ever expressed love and familial devotion to her. What if he was told I was his niece, and just accepted it without question? What if he knew I wasn't related, and took me in anyway? Does it even matter to him? Should it matter to me?

She curled into the quilt, looking over and over at the two sheets of paper with their startling revelation. Could the project have made a mistake? The test material had been coded anonymously; Professor Quincy had told students they didn't have to offer their names and addresses for the results if they didn't want to, although nearly everyone in class had been curious enough about their own results to ask for a copy to be mailed home. Just to be sure, she dug out her computer book and searched for the numbers she'd typed into it the day she'd taken her own and her uncle's DNA swabs. She checked the numbers that had been printed on the sample tubes against the ones on the papers in her hand. They both match. So the results didn't get confused at the lab. That's me...and that's Uncle Gadget. Should she stop calling him "uncle"? It would just sound weird not to.

She thought and thought, worried, unsure how this news would affect her uncle. It shouldn't matter, though, right? He won't stop loving me just because it turns out we're not really related, right? Of course not! He wouldn't change! But the fear of being left alone again, of losing the only family she'd known for years, gnawed at her heart. Old fears she'd thought declawed scratched in the back of her thoughts. Uncle Gadget loves me anyway. It doesn't matter. It doesn't!

Unable to shake this unease, she finally looked at the clock and was surprised to see two hours had passed. She frowned. Okay. Enough! Just...just go talk to him. Show him the results. She was half-afraid he'd be shocked, and half-hoping he'd tell her he knew all along and loved her as though she was family anyway. Either way, doing something about her troubles had always been Penny's best method for facing down her fears. Her mouth set in a grim line, she wrapped her robe over her pajamas and marched down the hallway to her uncle's bedroom. She saw a flickering light under his door, so he hadn't fallen asleep yet.

Her hand was raised to knock when she heard a low groan. She paused, listening. After a few seconds, she heard it again. Oh, no. He's having another nightmare. Uncle Gadget sometimes experienced what seemed to be awful dreams, though he claimed to never recall them when he awoke. Penny was never sure whether he was lying for her benefit. Unfortunately, during the most restless of these night terrors, he also walked in his sleep. More than once, Brain had chased down the Inspector in his boxers and undershirt before he could launch the Gadget Copter or wander into a construction site full of hazards, and gently tugged him back home. Penny hesitated. She and her uncle had always respected one another's privacy; a closed door meant you knocked! But he seemed so sad and ashamed earlier...what if this is one of the really bad ones?

Another low moan made up her mind. She drew a deep breath, steeled herself to deal with any dangerous gadgets popping out, and eased open the door. She saw the small TV on his dresser, still on with the sound muted, running what appeared to be a black-and-white film noir. Her uncle was sprawled on the loveseat in front of it, his head back against the cushion, eyes closed. Penny approached silently, taking in more details as her eyes adjusted to the dim light. At least he's not sleepwalking yet. Maybe I can nudge him into bed and he'll go into deeper...sleep...oh my God. She halted, eyes wide.

Her uncle was not sleeping. He also wasn't wearing his boxers. His gloved hand slowly stroked up the underside of the strong erection straining toward the ceiling, and a sigh escaped his lips. "Yes...please, yes..."

Shocked, Penny turned her head. She reached blindly for the door behind her. Her fingers slapped against the edge of it, making a small thwap. Uncle Gadget startled, and she fled, yanking the door closed as she went. She ran back to her room and shut the door, forcing herself to be quiet. She shut off her lamp, dove under the covers, and crouched there, shocked and mortified, trembling. Oh God. How could you be so stupid? Why didn't you just knock?

She heard footsteps, heard the floorboards outside her room creak. She didn't move, didn't breathe. She heard the soft whirring sounds her uncle's limbs made as he came to her door, then paused. Seconds ticked by. She didn't know what she'd say if he tried to talk to her. Fortunately, he retreated, and after a minute she heard his own door closing again...and heard the click of the lock.

Penny stayed huddled in a ball in her quilt until her legs began to cramp from the tension of it. Finally she lay down, cocooned in darkness, trying not to think of what she'd seen. She chided herself angrily. Did you think he didn't have those kind of feelings? He's still human, for crying out loud! She'd seen some of his body before, seen the demarcations where his original flesh and bone joined with metal. A couple of times she'd even seen him shirtless, right after a shower, when he'd used the hall bathroom because the master one was being retiled after a burst pipe. She knew about the gleaming plates covering his lower torso. Somehow she'd just assumed whatever had damaged that had also torn him up farther down, without really thinking about it... She flushed. Why would I want to think about that? He's my uncle!

Except now she knew for a fact that he wasn't.

Unwilling to dwell on any of this, she pulled the covers over herself, and lay in silence and stunned embarrassment until finally sleep crept in.