In an earlier draft Pickering, truer to the song “Show Me,” was spouting a lovey-dovey monologue about twained souls, etc. I had already inked before it hit me: duh, she’s a scientist! When she rambles nervously in place of kissing, it’s got to be a biological explanation of her attraction. (See the script for the full text.)
This is taken pretty directly from a scene in the original sketchbook comic, which is in turn pretty similar to a scene in My Fair Lady. Jeremy Brett is soooo cute as Freddy, you guys. Once my mom and I made my dad sit through fifteen minutes of Audrey Hepburn walking around the Covent Garden set just to hear him say “It’s getting awfully cold in that taxi, Eliza.”
PICKERING: Oh, Lance! [partly obscured] Some combination of your pleasing symmetrical physical appearance, scent, and/or pheromones arouses in me a primeval biological imperative to regard you as a viable potential–
LANCE: Don’t tell me, baby. Show me.
Pickering prepares, then kisses Lance on the forehead.
Lance gives an “enough of this” look and kisses her passionately.
POLICE OFFICER (interrupting them): Now then, now then. This isn’t Paris, you know.
PICKERING (angry): Are there no unsolved murders in this town?