As the sun set on a fun-filled Saturday, Jack found himself tangled in sheets and the limbs of a slender beauty. Blonde tufts of hair tickled his face, soft skin met his rougher hands, as they laughed and teased one another. While it had been unexpected, he could see himself getting used to this and hoped it was something that wasn't simply a product of their vacation destination.

The minutes turned into hours, and years of night shifts told him the midnight hour was approaching. Nearly two years of experiencing something more abnormal had him anticipating something else, at least subconsciously. His focus was entirely on the frame of the woman who straddling his hips. Hands smoothed over her tanned stomach, and he laughed when she spoke of a joke about a cowboy. Before he could answer, he sensed her leaning down to kiss him, and he closed his eyes in anticipation.

"Save a horse, ride a cowboy," he teased quietly, arms slipping around – cold metal.

His eyes snapped open. No longer was in the warm comfort of the California house they had rented. The smell of New York City filled his nostrils before he'd even unwrapped himself from the lightpole he'd been an inch from making out with.

"Wow, boundaries," Wade taunted, shaking his index finger at the pole as he backed away from it. "You are not a hot blonde who likes to get a little crazy sometimes." The streets were dark, mostly deserted, and damn did they smell. He felt around his for his teleportation device, but it wasn't in its usual place on his belt. In fact, he was wearing absolutely nothing at all. "Oh, I hope the coppers don't see me. I'm too fragile to spend a night in jail."

He wandered to the end of the street before he realized where he was. Preston's place was around here somewhere, or at least it would have been in his world. Given his current state of dress, he had no choice but to chance it. He kept the the shadows, picking up a trash can lid about halfway to his destination in attempts to cover himself. Wade wasn't modest, by any means, but since he was under the impression this wasn't his world, he knew that getting arrested for indecent exposure was bad.

"Look at this pervert, Franklin," a voice called from behind him. Wade stopped in his tracks, knowing good and well he was the pervert in question. Though he shouldn't be looking for trouble, he couldn't help but grin as he heard the footsteps of multiple people approaching from behind.

"Listen, guys, this is not what it looks like," Wade explained, lifting the lid from his groin area and giving the late night lurkers a good view of his assets as he did so. The repulsed looks on their faces said it all, and the way they started circling him in attempts to surround him said they weren't looking for an explanation. "I've got a serious case of blue balls right now. Can we do this later?" It was obvious they weren't having it. "No? Well, okay. I'm not paying your hospital bill."

One of the men laughed before attempting to throw a punch at Wade, which he easily dodged. As another one jumped at him, Wade sent a foot into his thigh while throwing the trash can lid at the third man's head. The tin lid hit the man's head with a loud clank and sent him flying against another trash can with another clank. "One down, two to go," he cheered, jumping around like a monkey as he baited the remaining two. Something about his action pulled them to come at him together, which gave him ample opportunity to slam their heads together and render them unconcious.

"Two birds, one Deadpool."

With his attackers out of the picture, he continued on, a skip in his step as he made his final approach. When he reached the stoop of what would have been Preston's home, he was surprised to see that it was exactly as he remembered. He bolted up the few stairs and peeked through the window next to the door to see if he could see anything familiar. It looked exactly as he remembered it. His eyes widened, his mouth fell agape. There was only one thing left to do. He tried the door, finding it unlocked – if he weren't so excited, he might have found that strange.

"Daddy's home, he yelled as he stepped through the treshold. Only no one else was there. No evidence Emily or her daughter or even his daughter had ever lifted here, aside from a few photographs, existed. His teleportation device lay hidden in the depths of the refrigerator, along with a beer he didn't hesitate to help himself to. He knew something wasn't right, and he needed to find his friends and figure out what it was.

But first? First he would find clothes.