Oh, El, I'm sure we can find a high-end stylist to fix you up. Even if you're sorely lacking without all your usual—[she mimes over the sides of his face, indicating the sideburns that he desperately requires to look whole]—business.

[Again, no touching, but this time it's for dramatic effect and flair. It works. It feels right between the two of them. It's not conscious, like she's reaching out and realizing that he's a fire about to burn her up.

Which Eliot should never be for Margo.]

You may just need to prove yourself first. [A pat on his (clothed) knee.] Or ... [She trails off, getting an idea.] Do you think we could pitch the whole kingly lifestyle if they take on both a man and a woman?