A purple one with cake and Spanish beer

Author's Note: Wow, I'm amazed at the positive response to this fic. Here's another chapter, it's short but me likes it and it has FINN!

CHAPTER ONE PLUS ONE (Three!)

"Happy birthday to you, Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday…" At this the party broke off, each calling the now one year old Lily by their own special name for her.

"Sweetie!" Lorelai sang, very much the proud grandmother.

"Princess!" Logan added.

"Whoozit!" Finn sang. Well, technically sang. More shouted than anything else.

When the song had ended and Lily had gleefully smashed a fist into the colossally huge pink cake, Rory swatted Finn on the head.

"She has a name now, you know." She told him, grinning.

"Yes, love, she does, doesn't she. What is it again? Lila, Lola, Loly… Oh, yeah! Lily! However, her name for the first nine months I knew her was Whoozit, and so Whoozit she is." He responded.

Rory rolled her eyes. She walked over to the highchair, where Lily was sucking icing off of her tightly balled fist.

"Hey birthday girl!" She cooed, picked her up and bouncing her a little. "How are you liking your superfantastic party? Thank Grandmother Emily for the fanciness of it all, she insisted that a Huntzberger baby needed a fitting first birthday party."

Logan walked up to them. "Hey, there's my two favorite girls! Rory, Emily wants to see you in the kitchen. Something about the chocolate boxes."

Rory nodded with a roll of her eyes, not wanting to go deal with whatever chocolate box emergency Emily had invented.

"How about you let Daddy hold you, Princess?" Logan asked Lily.

"Finneeee!" Lily's garbled words were beginning to become more articulate, and her vocabulary had expanded to include her 'uncle', her godfather Finn.

"Aw, hear that, mate?" Finn had been within earshot. "Your daughter is already choosing strange men over her father. Mark my words, Logan, she'll be all grown up before you can count to ten."

"Wow, Finn. That sounded strangely deep. Did that actually mean anything?" Rory asked with a grin.

"Actually, it was meant to be an innuendo. But you can think it was smart, love. You just keep thinking that." He stretched out his arms to take Lily from Rory, bouncing her up and down as she squealed with laughter.

Rory gave Logan a quick peck on the lips and rushed off to the kitchen. Logan and Finn walked with Lily to the sitting room, where Finn sat her down and began to play peekaboo with her.

"You know, Finn, you seem to be enjoying this game more than she is." Logan said with a small laugh. Lily was staring impassively at the Australian, a small trail of drool leaving the confines of her mouth.

"Peeeek-a… BOO!" He cooed at her. Lily hiccupped in response. "Fine, love. Don't appreciate decent entertainment. God, Logan, she's just like you. You never did like my acting… or singing… or dancing…" Finn trailed off. "Mind you, I probably wouldn't like them either, but I was always too drunk to remember what I did or how to make it better…"

Logan laughed. "Oh, Finn, that reminds me, Colin sent me a box of the most amazing beer from Spain. He told me to give you the name."

"Ah, I'm always open to a new beer. Got a pen?"

While the two men searched for a pen to write down the name of the beer in question, Lily busied herself with peeling off a purple sock and shoving it into her mouth.

"Agh!" Finn exclaimed upon noticing her with half of a cotton sock hanging out of her mouth. "She's eating her sock, Logan!"

"Again?" He asked, nonplussed, and began to pull it away.

"Again? Again? What do you mean, again? Your daughter eats her socks on a regular bases? Mate, that's an addiction and addictions are bad. You should consider rehab."

"Uh, rehab for my one year old because she likes to chew on socks? Wow, alcohol has killed one brain cell too many, Finn." Logan told him, putting the sock back on Lily's foot.