[i](Collab between Yoshi, Zach, and myself.)[/i]

"I did." The metallic voice projected from the suit, as its head slowly turned to face the woman addressing him, the holographic interface immediaely tracking her, recording vitals and, more importantly, providing background information.

"Unfortunately it would seem some unwanted guests showed up early to this party of mine, I try not to make it a habit of disappointing those women who still answer my calls." Self-depricating humor wrapped up in ego, an odd combination, but he'd just watched his house get blown up, he could do what he wanted.

"How rude of them." Came Neena's snarky reply. She looked past the metal suit to the wreckage that laid just beyond him and then back to the iconic red and gold man.

"And you have yet to disappoint." She added to his second comment.

"I did shoot them down, so maybe." Stark replied, before the suit finally touched down, having been hovering above the sand, his head turned to look at the burning wreckage one more time, before once again focusing on Neena.

"There a not-so-small hotel I own, down the beach aways, but first, I have to meet the woman who can't die? Care to join me?" The suit 'nodded' in the direction of the hotel, before starting to hover down the beach, confident the jeep could keep up, it was hard to be the 'perfect' gentleman, when strapped inside a metal shell, but he was at least polite, all considering.

Neena's somewhat amused expression darkened slightly at the mention of a girl who couldn't die.

"Jean..." She said feeling her stomach churn a bit. She nodded though, her black hair bouncing in and out of her eyes a bit.

"I'll follow behind so long as you keep below the clouds." She agreed and went her way back to the Jeep where she started it back up and followed Tony's trail.
---
'Clean up' didn't require a highly trained team rapidly responding from a flying aircraft carrier when you had a telepath to assist, and a location so remote in a country as corruptable. A lightning storm would be the official report of damage by police, clean up a matter left to private owners and their insurance companies. Jean would have to get the insurance companies, too, in case they asked too many questions in policy review. But that, at least, could wait for now.

She'd been too late. It was a harsh fact that gnawed into her thoughts, the thing should try to ignore and replace with thoughts of routine and other dilemmas. It wouldn't be her first 'too late' moment as a heroine, and because of his own resiliance it wouldn't be her most defeating either: the man was alive. She could 'see' that plainly. The mutant was another issue entirely. 

The loss of Tony's pleasure palace did not interrupt her plans elsewise. Jean had never planned to 'stay' at the house (just warn him then check in before everyone else arrived). She'd even brought her own false identification with it's own artfully created 'cover' identity well distributed over every network that mattered. If anything, the X-Men had gained a wonderfully eclectic selection of friends...but the man who'd she first seen after resurrected was right: they were all covers that could be hunted down now. 

So he gave her a new one. "Miranda Maximoff" read the American passport and the VISA Black Card she presented to the front desk clerk down the beach from Stark's palace. She figured to walk down later after showering and changing. But now, it seemed, she was betting she wouldn't have to. She got a bungalow on the beach and asked about shopping in the area; two designer malls within a five minute's walk. Jean wanted to change, if robots were already falling out of the air. Especially if it meant leaving, or going somewhere else. She hadn't been wearing shoes since Florida.

Already she was looking for alternatives for a meeting place even as she walked to the bungalow, having sent a mental 'note' for Stark to meet her there. From that meeting she could relay a new meet place telepathically to each of the people he knew were coming. Jean showed up to the bungalow only after a quick stop off at the beach resort's gift shop, and their Starbucks. Instead of the dress she wore 'San Marco Rescort' loose cotton Navy shorts that went a little lower than mid thigh on her, and an oversized pink 'San Marcos Resort' shirt. Finally, she had sandals on. In her left hand the she held large bag from the gift shop, which now housed her dress and three bathing suits. In her right, an iced grande mocha raspberry latte with three additional shots of expresso. 

The key to the bungalow was in her pocket, but was picked up immediately and the door unlocked. It was a little, she'd admit, disarming to jolt with surprise when the door opened...and a man was already standing there. Her eyes stayed winced shut for a long moment, even as she made her introduction, a painfully given smile of few amusement to greet him and the darkly featured woman standing near him.

"Mr. Stark. Domino. Good to know my key is absolutely worthless." Those were the words she spoke, even if she [i]sounded[/i] anything but glad to know her key was worthless. Opening her green eyes at him, she finally continued moving as planned, setting her bag down and taking a long, long, drink of that iced latte. "I'm really glad you weren't injured. I was on my way to warn you, when...whatever happened."

In the white, lofty, furniture of the bungalow's main living area and counter adjoined kitchen with it's accent lighting and view of the beach, Jean sat down and asked her questions as they returned to her, even as her eyes were looking out of glass doors along the back of the wall of the bungalow, and it's white stone back porch. There was even a glass fireplace in the living area. The beginnings of sunset were even starting to glow over the surface of the bay's water. 

It all looked and felt a little too Bond, to her. Finally her eyes switched over to Stark, and her focus onto her questions. 

"Have you identified the mutant yet?"

"Jean Grey back from the ashes. Not that I knew you before, but death seems to have done you wonders. I guess the Phoenix does always rise brighter." Tony's tone was lighthearted, even if the usual smile or smirk wasn't quite as wide as usual. Scotch in hand, he made sure to back off to give her room to enter immediately. After all, it was her bungalow.

"I practically designed the Sentinels, true they were a threat to my house, but I'll be damned before I put myself in the ground." He took a few sips, his slight caution of before gone with the news, or at least, his own personal calculation, that for whatever reason, with some of the most powerful mutants and metahumans converging on Cuba, that the US had wanted to put him six feet under first of all.

"The mutant, Mystique, was far more of a threat, it would seem individuals from both extremes would rather me dead in the Cuban sea." This was probably the most serious he'd been in the private company of two women for a long time, a fact that brought a smile to his lips even if it was only a private thought, although, without his suit on, he very much doubted there was such a thing as a private thought when it came to Jean Grey. Some called him paranoid, but clearly the events of the day had shown that he wasn't nearly paranoid enough.

"Your concern is, however, appreciated, lets hope what I've got to offer is worth all that, and that I haven't put you all in harms way simply for inviting you all to my latest themed holiday." He didn't add, not that it was really neccesary, that anyone looking at the situation, would have probably expected the reverse, to find it ludicrous that during the anti-mutant campaign by the government, it was the only normal human that was endangering them all.

"We should change meeting locations. If you can tell me who you know is coming, I can relay any change. But I'd rather my bungalow not get blown up, just the same, so we should probably head somewhere once people get to the hotel, or just change locations altogether."

"The location has already been relayed. They'll have picked it up of course. But Tony Stark just bought a hotel on Cuba, how many press cameras do you think are on that place right now? 'My' home was officially SHIELD property, they can get away with that, not this." There was an amount of indignation in his tone, at some small part at Jean for suggesting he wouldn't be able to fix the mess he'd landed himself in, but the vast majority at his own government which had decided he was a little too inconvenient.

"And to think, I voted Obama."

Neena pulled herself off of the recliner chair from the corner of the room to join in on the conversation. Of course Tony had already filled her in on the information just given to Jean, and it was enough to keep a slight smirk on her face. For once she felt like she was ahead, that she knew more than miss little perfect...though she wasn't sure how long that would last.

"So then it's official Stark, it's all your fault we're in this mess." She teased lightly at the reveal of his vote.

She didn't think the President was soley to blame for their current mess, but Jean also knew he had his hand in parts. Just as Jean didn't think meeting out in the open was the best of ideas. She'd be impossible to follow even using satellite feeds when flying at those speeds, but she wasn't afraid to show people she was here. Now it was obvious, and the there went another cover identify.

But more vexing was the thought that haunted her lips now, until she looked from Tony to Domino and back to Tony...and just let it out: "How do we know they won't send other Sentinels? A drone attack? There are people that work here, unlike your former SHIELD safehouse. There would be collatoral damage."

"Do I think the US is ready to declare war on Cuba, rather than just pound its own, technically, soveign territory? Maybe, not yet, at least. Secondly they can disprove that there were even Sentinels at the safehouse, at a public hotel? Not to be anything but realistic, but currently Iron Man is a lot more popular than any mutant, I'd think they'd want to avoid killing me on Cuban television." It took a moment, maybe more then that, before he let out a sigh, taking another sip of his drink, before looking out of the windows Jean had studied minutes before.

"But then, I didn't think I was on their hit list. I can guarentee their safety, but only with public force. If we want to meet with some degree of anonymity, then we will have to pick somewhere else." With that, the barest, slight admission that there might be better ideas than his own, he 'collapsed' one a chair, refraining from another sip of his drink.

"Creating mess is just about my greatest skill, catchings others in it would be a close second."

Neena shrugged, looking between Tony and Jean before settling in on looking to Jean.

"I don't think we can afford to be picky right now." She said, her own little smirk gone from both her face and her voice. Shrugging again, she turned her back to Jean and followed after Tony, sitting on the chair's arm in a slanted angle, taking the drink from Tony before helping herself to a rather large sip before putting it back in his hand.

"I'd like to see them try to cross that line though; it would give the Government the balls they've always lacked." She added with a wry smile towards Tony.

His eyebrow raised at the movement of his drink, he smirked slightly, although his humour drained somewhat at her comment. "If the Government having a lack of balls saves lives, I'm happy for it to stay as it is. They can shoot up my homes all they want then...well, all of them with less than three floors." He remembered at the last moment, he wasn't supposed to be a hero.

Jean was already at the bar, a bottle of vodka and awaiting bucket of ice quick ingridients to the quick drink before she moved on, turning on the bluetooth hotspot in her iPhone and letting music roll through the speakers placed through in and out the bungalow: Santana's Evil Ways starting out with bongo drums and Santana's classic electric guitar. 

Having accomplished so much, she took an even longer drink and chuckled. "Okay, you two hang out all you want, I'll be in the bedroom for a moment. Tony, since you're the new Hotelier, any chance you could get something chocolate and grilled lobster served up? Maybe something for the others? The bar's got basics, but if someone wants beer they're mostly out of luck. I'll be back."

And with that she let the doors to the bedroom of the bungalow close behind her, the sound of the shower coming on just moments later.