Eliot said that sometimes, when Parker made a perfectly reasonable suggestion or observation. Normal people don't do this, normal people do that, normal people wouldn't think that. Ever.
(Sometimes it was "What's wrong with you?" which he didn't seem to want an answer to, not that she had one.)
Occasionally, she could see his point. For example, normal people probably didn't stab other people with a fork, no matter how much the stabbee deserved it.
Most of the time she wasn't sure why normal people behaved (or didn't behave) in particular ways, or how they knew what was expected of them.
They'd met a lot of people over the last few years, and they were all different. They had different jobs, and accents, and types of family, and ambitions, and ways of dealing with their problems, and clothes they chose to wear. With all the different ways to be normal, how could you be sure you were normal? When did you become abnormal?
She tried asking Eliot but he just got flustered and said, "You just know," and gone off to the gym.
"Hey," Hardison said, having observed Eliot's mental meltdown. "What's normal anyway? You can ask a hundred people that and you'll get a hundred different answers. Don't you listen to him. You're just fine as you are."
"I know," Parker said and grinned. "You're not normal, are you?"
"Normal is boring," Hardison said, fingers flying over the keys as he hacked into a secure site. "I'm extraordinary."
Extraordinary. Parker liked the sound of that.