Title: Normal?
By: Lisa Marie aka youcrazything
Rating: eh, PG should do it.
Spoilers: Up to "Romancing the Joan"
Summary: The sub defectives and a "normal" lunch conversation.
Dedication: For shadow because she needs her crack too.
A/N: The mini debate is something stolen from an actual conversation between Shadow, D9, and myself.
They sat at the isolated table in the center of the cafeteria. It seemed only fitting that the sub defectives be separated from the rest of the crowd, as they didn't really fit in with any of the other groups.
Joan pondered this as her friends sat down at the table around her. Man, I must be tired, getting all philosophical about our lunch table, she thought to herself. Her eyes wandered over to where the jocks and the cheerleaders sat, remembering a time when she might have been welcome there. Joan resisted the sudden urge to snort in amusement. Even if she were welcome, it'd be a cold day in hell before she'd be able to get Grace to sit with a bunch of "pom-pom waving cream puffs". And it would definitely be time to take a trip down south to go ice-skating before she would even think about giving up her friends.
Joan focused her attention back on her friends, a fond smile breaking out on her face. Friedman was being his usual disgusting self, Grace looked irritated, and Luke was just keeping to himself. She felt Adam take her hand in his and knew she wouldn't have it any other way.
"Stevie is so hot for me," Friedman boasted as said girl left the table.
"Oh, please. Any remotely normal girl wouldn't look twice at you," Grace informed him with an eye roll. "You putz."
"What is normal anyway?" Joan wondered out loud. It seemed that the deep thoughts had refused to leave her quite yet.
Friedman and Grace, who were seated at either side of Luke, sat up from leaning over the table to glare at each other around Luke to look at Joan with interest. Luke, seeing that he was no longer in the middle of the crossfire, looked up from picking at his food to stare at Joan as well.
"Go on," he prodded, clearly relieved that she had managed to keep his girlfriend and best friend from going at each other's throats.
Joan flushed lightly at all the attention suddenly being directed at her. She was starting to think she needed to learn to keep her big mouth closed.
"Well, normal is just a perception made by people, right?" Joan started cautiously. "And since everyone has a different perception, there is no agreed upon definition of what normal really is. Therefore it can't exist."
"But," Grace countered almost immediately, "One could also argue that since everyone's definitions of normal differ, that everyone is, by their own definition, normal."
Joan hadn't expected her sudden philosophical discovery to be so quickly challenged and was thrown off a bit. There was a moment of contemplation before she answered back.
"Who can really define what normal is though?"
"Conforming with, adhering to, or constituting a norm, standard, pattern, level, or type," Adam spoke up for the first time, taking everyone by surprise. They all gaped at him, rather impressed. "Photographic memory, remember?"
"Do you, like, read the dictionary for fun or something?" Joan asked him teasingly. Adam only shrugged as he went back to his lunch, clearly not interested in getting too involved with the debate. Joan decided to leave him be and turned back to Grace.
"Anyway, that brings me back to my original point." Joan continued, gesturing wildly with her hands as she got into her explanation. "If we can't agree upon it, there is no norm. Unless, of course, you base it off of what most people are…"
" I would argue that one's definition of normal is not necessarily what one's self is, but what one observes in one's environment, which they themselves may or may not conform to," Luke suddenly piped up after Joan had trailed off, thinking through her assertion. "Hence, if I act different then what I perceive those acting as, I am not normal, but if I act the same way, I am."
Feeling decidedly outsmarted, Joan muttered, "Geesh, do you take the scientific approach to everything?"
"No," Luke answered seriously, his gaze drifting towards Grace. "Not everything."
Grace blushed, fully aware of her boyfriend's shift in attention and the meaning of his statement. She ducked her head so that her hair fell over her face and took a gulp of her coffee to conceal her embarrassment.
"Ah yes," Friedman said, mischief sparkling in his eyes as he knew he was back in his element. "Coherent thought can so easily be lost in the throes of passion."
"Pig," Joan threw at him, not missing a beat. It was more of a reflex now then her actually caring what he said. She had long ago learned not to listen to Friedman when he being a perverted piece of scum.
Knowing what was coming, Luke quickly moved back out of the way as Graced leaned over him to smack Friedman. He was starting to get sick of them bickering like little children all the time, but at least he got a lapful of Grace out of it this time.
"Ow!" Friedman exclaimed as Grace's hand thwacked him upside the head, hard. He turned to Luke with pleading eyes. "Can you please tell your girlfriend not to abuse me?"
"Maybe you shouldn't make absurd assumptions," Luke told him calmly as he reluctantly pushed Grace back into her seat. His hands lingered at her waist a moment before he pulled back and looked at his friend in exasperation. The hesitation hadn't gone un-noticed by Friedman, who sat smirking at the couple.
"Maybe he shouldn't speak at all," Grace suggested, arms crossed and glowering at Friedman like a little kid in time out. Having been banished to the chair by Luke, she had the immature urge to stick her tongue out at the obnoxious boy seated next to her boyfriend. "Freak."
"Hey," Friedman shot back, putting his hands up in defense. "I'm not the one getting down and dirty in a roomful of dead animals."
"He does have a point," Joan commented, turning an amused look towards her friend. Grace's mouth opened and closed as she struggled to get past her shock and retort.
"We are not getting 'down and dirty'!" Grace finally sputtered out, getting up out of her seat, ready to pummel the little creep.
"Sure you aren't," Joan teased her friend, trying to not to laugh at the look of outrage Grace's face.
With a frustrated growl, Grace roughly grabbed Luke's arm and dragged him towards the exit. Adam watched them go with mild interest, and gave his girlfriend a "tsk tsk, you shouldn't have done that" look.
With a smirk, Joan called out to them, "Try not to steam up the closet's windows too much you guys!"
Grace threw one final glare over her shoulder as she stomped out of the cafeteria which sent the remaining three into a fit of giggles.
"Five bucks says I can make him turn red as a tomato in Spanish," Friedman bet Joan after they had finished laughing.
"Make it ten," Joan wagered, leaning in imposingly. "And I'll bet Grace turns redder than he does."
"Deal," Friedman agreed wholeheartedly.
With a handshake, they prepared to make the next class a living hell for the couple.