Dear Colonel Broyles (from the alternate universe),
When I first watched Fringe, my crush was on Peter Bishop (and also I love Walter). Now that I’m older (holy crap, you guys, Fringe has been off the air for FOUR YEARS HOW AM I SO OLD YET LOOK SO GOOD?), my affections have turned to you.
Don’t get me wrong, there’s nothing wrong with our universe’s Agent Broyles, who is awesome and never commits treason and wears great suits.
But you, Colonel Broyles (from the alternate universe): You wear those tight little black shirts and I say to my daughter I think he has to hold his arms like that because of his muscles, oh my god, can I please go to the other universe?
(My daughter still likes Peter best, though, which is understandable. Reasonable, even.)
You, Colonel Broyles (from the alternate universe), are a devoted father, willing to sacrifice almost anything (not two universes, thank goodness) for your adorable son.
I love you, and I think we should get married.
You know, once you’re out of prison for all the treason you committed for your adorable son.