Freak By Meg Binks My own story copyrights, blah, blah, blah. I don't own any X-men evolution characters, wish I did (evil grin), or the music in my story blah, blah, blah. Well enough talk, on with the story. R&R

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Lance Alvers (Avalanche)

Freddy Dukes (The blob)

Pietro Maximoff (Quicksilver)

Todd Tolansky (Toad)

Principle Raven Darkholme (Mystique)

Rogue?

Remy Lebeau (Gambit)

Dixion Hayes (Hex)

Evan Daniels (Spyke)

Scott Summers (Cyclops)

Jean Grey (Jean)

Kurt Wagner (Nightcrawler)

Kitty Pride (Shadow cat)

Charles Xavier (Professor Xavier)

Ororo Munroe (Storm)

Logan? (Wolverine)

*********************************************************************** White sunlight streamed into the little room, dust bits dancing on the shafts. An assortment of clothes lay showered across the floor where they fell on the cheap, verdant carpet and from a stereo perched on the tiny table, David Usher sang sorrowfully about "Black, black hearts". A long- forgotten cup of coffee turned to icy sat beside the bed, where a slim figure sat.

Dixon sat cross-legged in baggy black jeans and an ivy tanktop, on the recently made hotel bed, that was once again ruined. Her dark crimson hair spilling over her shoulders and into her azure-colored eyes as she sat, skimming over the letter she had received from her uncle.

Dear Dixon,

How are you? I hope you are well. I am terribly sorry about your parents. It's a great lost to me as well. I thought that you should come live with me here in Bayville. If not I would like to see you again sometime, just for a visit. I hope to hear from you soon.

Sincerely your uncle,

Professor C. Xavier

"He just had to bring that up." Dixon muttered. She tossed the letter on the table and fell back on the bed. Her parents had gone on their second honeymoon a year before and had died in a car trash. Every since then, her uncle thought it was his personal quest to get her to live with him. Especially since Dixon wasn't yet 16. Being the lone wolf she was, Dixon just stayed her welcome at her friend's houses, and then lived in hotels. She hadn't seen him in years and she was running low on money. She sighed. "Guess it can't hurt." With a flick of her wrist, a cold but gently wind blew through the room picking up the clothes on the floor in a surge of color. They drifted around the room then into her duffel bag sitting on the floor, beside the bed.

"No more New York charm for me," she yawned tugging a sweatshirt on, "Bayville here I come." And with that, she strolled out of the room to make the arrangements for her trip.

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Little bit of grammar and spelling changes, but that is it.