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This has been going on for quite some time. Jackson himself is stripped to his underwear and the shutters are thrown open to catch what breeze they can from the ocean.

"Because we live on a tropical fuckin' island," he says, eyes still closed, arm draped across his face.

"It's still hot as fuck," Mac whines, completely petulant. "I wish I had some ice."

"By the time I get all the way up to the compound and back, it'll just be water," he points out, lifting his head to look at her. "Serves you right for movin' in this far down the island."

"It's the nicest place there is," Mac says, unfortunately agreeing with him. "Jackson, please get me some ice? Please? I don't think it's good for the baby to get so hot."

"Are you serious?" he asks her, lifting his head and doing his level best not to be distracted by the sheer lovely nakedness of her. "Are you honestly suggesting that I get dressed and march my ass up to the compound in the middle of the night and then attempt to get back here with ice before it melts just to satisfy your whims and nonsense?"

"Yes?" Mac says, batting her lashes at him a little. "Jackson, please, I'm completely miserable. It's either this or we both go skinny dipping at the waterfall. I'm so fucking hot. I can't stand it."

"Oh, yeah, we'll go skinny-dipping and you'll probably slip on a rock and break somethin' and then that'll be my fault too," he says, rolling his eyes as he drags himself out of bed, pulling on the first pair of pants that come to hand and a shirt that was clean on that morning.

"You? Are going to owe me big, naked girl."

"Naked Girl. It sounds like a superhero of dubious talent," Mac says, giggling a little. "And yes, I know, I'll owe you. But it's for the baby, really, we just want it to be comfortable."

"That," he says, pointing with one finger as he bends to pull on his boots, "Is only going to see you so far, darlin'." He leans over the bed to kiss her. "I'll be back as quick as I can."

"Thank you, honey," Mac says sweetly, kissing him back. "I'll be here. Completely and gloriously naked."

"I'll be taking full advantage of that," he promises her.

He doesn't have to go as far as the compound, in the end. It occurs to him that the Winchester probably has the means to make ice and he begs some off the tattooed kid behind the bar, heading back as quick as he can to make the whole thing worth it.

"Tell me I'm your hero and there's nothin' you wouldn't do for me," he says, letting himself back into her bedroom (which he's rapidly coming to think of as theirs).

"You're my hero and there's nothing I wouldn't do for you," Mac says brightly, grinning at him.

"You really are. Thank God, I need this."

He sets the bucket down on the bed next to her and goes to the task of stripping off.

"What's my reward goin' to be, then?"

"What do you want it to be?" Mac asks, watching him closely. She loves looking at him even if he's not handsome in the traditional sense; she is extremely attracted to him and has been since she first met him a few months ago.

"Anything you want?"

"When I walked through the door, I'd have said a couple of hours sleep, but then I looked at you," he says, leaning against the bedframe for a moment. "And now I'm sure I can think of somethin' a helluva lot more inventive."

"Am I honestly that distracting?" Mac asks, squirming a little on the bed so he can really get a good look at her.

"I think I'm impressed with myself."

"You know how distracting you are," he says, getting onto the bed with her, ice-bucket between them as he reaches out to trail his fingers against her belly. "You know what you look like and you use it to your advantage."

"I love you," Mac says, grinning at him. "And yes, I completely use it to my advantage. So what do you want as payment for your charity?"

"I am sure," he says, picking up a cube of ice between two fingers and brushing it along the curve of her throat, "That I can think of somethin', darlin'."

It feels so good that she whimpers, arching up from the bed. "Jackson, honey, please. Feels so good."

He dimly remember something she said in New York. Gently, he trails the ice lower, following her breast bone. "Put your hands up over your head for me, darlin'."

Mac stretches her arms up over her head. "Like this?" She has always liked having instructions and Jackson is good about giving them to her and, when she's earned it, praise.

"Just like that," he says. The way she's raised her arms lifts her tits and he follows the curve of her with the ice-cube, bending his head to kiss her as he traces one nipple with the ice.

"Fuck," Mac hisses softly. She should have known being petulant would get her into some kind of trouble and she thinks this kind of trouble is better than the alternative.

"I don't think I'm going to be cooling off, exactly."

"No?" he asks her, switching to her other nipple, teasing it harder. "You'd rather I left you to it?"