The next day, the lady judge pulled Skylar aside to the obvious contempt of her future husband and father. She could have sworn Dean had whispered to the other man, "told you we would get arrested for this."

"Are you sure this is what you want?" the judge said in a concerned hushed tone.

"Excuse me?"

"I have to ask to make sure you aren't being forced into anything. You're sixteen years old. If you're afraid to say anything, just give me a sign and this will all be over."

Skylar appreciated the concern, but honestly, she would much rather go through with it instead of listen to her father bitch. She had never seen him so happy to be rid of her. His blue eyes had been lit up ever since they stormed into the house the previous night to say that she was going with Dean. For the first time in her life, he felt freedom within reach.

"I'm not being forced."

"Then you're telling me that you love this grown man?"

She swallowed the lump in her throat at the mention of love.

"He's 'ight."

She instantly kicked herself. The least she could have done was stretch the truth and claim that she was crazy about him.

"He's…alright?" The judge repeated slowly to solidify how stupid of an answer that really was.

"I mean…" she tried to recover. "Look at him?" she pointed in his direction, causing the judge to follow her gesture. Dean was casually leaning against the brick wall, his dark tight jeans hanging low on his lean hips. His black shirt clung to his body invitingly, and no women alive could be immune to Dean Winchester. He was a walking piece of sex.

It would be accurate to call him pretty. He was much prettier than any women she had ever seen. However, he was also masculine and dangerous. He had everything going for him...that is, if you discount his gluttony, perversions, and alcoholism.

The other women cocked her head to the side with a disapproving look, despite the nod in agreement.

"Handsome fades little missy…it's no reason to marry anyone."

At the tone and usage of "little missy," Skylar lowered her gaze in contempt and stared up at the judge with annoyance. "I'm getting married…and that's, that." She stalked off, refusing to be told what to do.

Dean looked down into the fresh young face of Skylar.

He had to admit that she looked adorable and had put in way more effort to look good than he did. He refused to wear his fake FBI suit to get married in. He hated wearing that suit.

Skylar had her brown hair pulled back into a tight French braid, and she wore a bright yellow sun dress that made her skin pop.

As the judge read the vows, she shifted from foot to foot, looking anywhere but at him until he officially said the words, "I will."

He was surprised to watch her perk up a bit and listen more closely when the judge asked her the same question and she replied, "I will." The rest of the short ceremony went by in a blur. Dean didn't have a ring to give her, which awarded him the evil eye from the protective judge who had wanted to murder him the second they walked in and asked to be married.

Dean supposed he should have dropped by a pawn shop this morning to get her one. He would have to do that soon.

When it came time to kiss the bride, they both froze. Shit.

Through all of the chaos, this little detail had slipped his mind. He had never kissed her before…for obvious reasons. He wasn't sure if she had ever been kissed at all.

He leaned down, pausing for her to come the rest of the way up, but she continued waiting, her blue eyes darting from side to side in a panic. It was hard not to snicker at her obvious discomfort.

Dean placed a small kiss on her cheek, next to her mouth so that a small portion of her lips were included. He wasn't sure if it counted if the lips weren't' included.

This way, her wedding, in front of her soon-to-be estranged father and the judgy judge, wouldn't witness his new bride's first kiss. It just didn't seem right.

Afterwards, they signed the license and walked down the long court steps to the Impala in silence…all three of them. Skylar leapt into the passenger seat without saying one word to Ike, though he couldn't blame her.

When the older man began walking over, Dean stepped in front of him. "Leave her alone, Ike."

"I raised that girl. The least she can do is tell her old man goodbye."

"I would use that term raised lightly. You don't give a shit about her and we both know it."

"Don't you try to tell me how I feel. She's still my daughter…"

"And she's my wife! That's what you wanted. You just signed over any rights that you had to her, and mark my words, I will kill you if I ever see you again. The only reason you're still breathing after all these years is because foster care might have sucked more than you did."

Ike's fists balled up, and Dean was prepared to get punched. Though, he was more than prepared to finish it. After years of arguing with the man, and never actually laying a hand on him, he would welcome the fight, though the middle of the day outside of a courthouse was not an ideal place to brawl.

They held each other's gaze for several moments, neither determined to give in. Finally, Ike turned around and leapt into his minivan and drove off. Dean let out the breath he hadn't known he had been holding.

Good riddance.

Recovering quickly, Dean took his cell out of his back pocket.

He supposed it was time to let Sammy know that he was a married man.