After dinner you test your theory

Dinner was the usual affair. You and Stacey snuggle up together on the couch and start watching the Netflix show that you had started the week before, crafting theories on who was going to make it through the season and discussing your favorite characters.

You couldn't help but notice that the writing on Stacey's arm had been cleaned off in the shower as she got up to clear away the dishes.

"So, babe?" You start.

"Yeah, hun?" Stacey replies from the kitchen.

"Do you feel any different about what happened today with your boss?" You test her, just to confirm your suspicions.

"Now that you mention it. I don't know what came over me. I'm lucky Eric didn't fire me on the spot. What do I know about running my own studio, you know? I can hardly keep up with the schedule I have now." Stacey said, her voice sounding somewhat defeated.

'What the actual fuck! Could it be?' You think to yourself. You had to test this out. You hop over the back of the couch and run to your office to retrieve the marker.

"Babe?" Stacey looks at you strangely as you approach her and grab her arm. "Is that?"

You quickly scrawl CONFIDENT onto Stacey's forearm, out of her view, and watch as her back straightens and her chest pushes out ever so slightly more.

"What are you-"

"How do you feel about what happened today now?" You ask again.

"Fuck Eric. Of course I can run my own studio." Stacey says without hesitation, meeting your gaze.

You just grin and turn over Stacey's arm so she can see what you had written. Her eyes widen as she puts together the same thing that you already had.

"Oh. My. GOD!" Stacey jumps up and down excitedly and grabs the pen, turning it over in her hands in wonder. "It is magical! See, I told you Finn! There is stuff that science can't explain out there if you just keep an open mind and look for it."

"Yeah, yeah. Let's run a few more experiments first before we jump to any hard conclusions. It still could be just a coincidence." The rational part of your brain exercised caution, while the irrational side was popping bottles and yelling 'Woohoo! We're gods bitches!'