A/N: I decided to time these stories to real events as close as I could to when they happened in 1987, and in 1987, Hanukkah was a bit later than this year so apologies if this seems "late". And a huge thank you again to Raizelinplaid for help with the "technicalities".

"Ready?" Efraim asked as Francine stood up from her desk and lifted her coat from the stand.

"Of course," she answered. "You said 4 o'clock – and we can't be late and miss the lighting ceremony, now can we?"

"That would sort of negate the purpose of the evening," he agreed, helping her on with her coat. "Oh wow," he added, seeing her reach to pick up three gift bags. "You really do not need to bring gifts."

"Well, one of them is for your mother for letting you invite me, and the other one is just something I picked up for your nephews... but this one isn't from me," she grinned as she handed it to him, "This one is a bottle of Manischewitz wine from Lee to suck up for this afternoon."

Efraim had to chuckle at that memory. "Well, he did say the evening needed a nice bottle of wine. I wish you could have seen him slinking back to find me and apologize – he normally only gets his tail between his legs like that when Amanda tells him off."

"Well, I made him grovel for a while before I let him off the hook," Francine admitted. "But he really was sorry – that's not something he'd normally tease anyone about, you know."

"Yeah, I know – it couldn't have been more than few minutes before he was back to say he was sorry – and I totally get why his brain went there, given our conversation about candles and games."

"Well, his juvenile sense of humor went where it always goes," she explained.

"Think that will get better or worse the more he hangs out with Amanda's sons?" asked Efraim, leaning over to press the elevator button.

"I'll let you know after I have Christmas dinner with them," dimpled Francine.

"As his backup? Or his date?" Efraim chortled. "I have to hand it to the guy - he's having a really bad month for embarrassing himself."

"Maybe that's his gift to the rest of us," she replied.

"Well, if you can put up with him, I'm hoping that means you can cope with my brothers," he grimaced. "They can make Stetson look like an angel."

"Efraim," she reprimanded him gently, "Do you seriously think I can't handle four grown men?"

"You're right - what was I thinking?" he chuckled. "Maybe it's them I should have warned."

"What? And ruin all my fun?" she quipped. "You said you needed a date to knock their socks off and you have come to the queen of putting men in their place. They are going to be quivering shades of their former selves by the end of the evening."

"Oy vey," Efraim dropped his head, shaking it from side to side in mock sorrow. "What have I got myself into?"

"Well, it can't be any worse than the time Lee dragged Amanda along as his fake girlfriend to meet his uncle."

"You're kidding."

"Oh no – let me tell you all about it..."

They paused on the steps of the house, Efraim reaching to touch the small metal case on the door frame and then bring his finger to his lips, before giving her a quick sideways look.

"That's a pretty mezuzah," Francine said easily, eyes crinkling when she saw his surprise that she knew what it was. "Don't worry," she added, "I know not to touch it."

"You do?"

"You'd be surprised at some of the things I know," she smiled at him. "And right now, I know there are about twenty munchkins all pretending they're not checking us out from the window behind me."

Efraim let his eyes travel past her shoulder – she wasn't wrong, there were at least five of his nephews making faces at him. "Yep, that would be the progs," he muttered.

"Progs?"

"It's the collective noun for the progeny," he explained. "Are you really prepared for this?"

"Children, huh? It's worse than I thought," she teased him. "But seriously, we're on the doorstep – we can't back out now."

"Well if you're sure..." Efraim turned and opened the door. "Ladies first."

The decibel level almost hit Francine like a brick wall, but along with the sounds of merriment, there was the absolutely mouth-watering smells of family cooking – it took her straight back to Moline's kitchen and her childhood - except for that wall of noise. Her own childhood had been one of silent rooms and dinner conversation that was expected to be intellectual, stimulating and oh-so-tedious. But this family – it was obviously the exact opposite- the room appeared to be wall-to-wall people and they were all talking at once with boisterous bursts of laughter and small children running everywhere.

"Efraim means 'fruitful' but my brothers appear to be competing for the title by seeing who can produce the most kids," he muttered in her ear. "Eight so far and all boys."

"Ma! Efraim's here! And he actually brought a girl!" shouted someone and the next second, a tiny whirlwind of a woman burst out of the kitchen to envelop him in a hug.

"Ma! Quit it!" he squirmed out of her embrace, turning her to face Francine. "Ma, this is my friend, Francine Desmond. Francine, this is my mother, Ruth."

"I am so pleased to meet you," Mrs. Beaman smiled up at her, before giving her son a sly look. "Especially since Efraim has never mentioned you before last week." She gave Francine a little wink that Efraim couldn't see and Francine pressed her lips together trying not to laugh.

"Ma!" groaned Efraim. "Could you not?"

"I'm very pleased to meet you too," said Francine, smoothly. "Thank you so much for including me in your family celebrations. I brought you a little something as a thank you." She offered the first gift bag to Mrs. Beaman. "I wish I could claim credit but well… my family's housekeeper, Moline, she's retired now but she still lives in the area and when I told her I was coming here tonight, she insisted I bring some of her specialty."

Mrs. Beaman cracked open the pastry box and inhaled. "Is this chocolate babka?"

Francine nodded. "Well, yes and no – it's Moline's Southern version of something very close to it – but she always made it for us for Christmas and I thought you'd enjoy it."

"I'm sure we will." Efraim's mother was living up to her surname, beaming at the pair of them. "That is so sweet of you."

"Oh, and this is for the children," Francine added. "It's chocolate dreidels."

"Oh goodness, you really know your way to a boy's heart," laughed Mrs. Beaman.

"Or a girl's," added Efraim who seemed to have finally found his voice again.

Right at that moment, an arm wrapped itself around his neck and he was hauled into the chest of an equally tall man who was roughly rubbing his head. "Effy! You made it! And you really did bring a girl! I thought for sure you were making her up."

Efraim pulled himself free with a muttered curse and straightened up. "Francine, this is my brother Aaron."

"I'm the oldest," said Aaron, leaning in to shake her hand. "Effy here is the baby. We call him the Accident."

"Yes, he mentioned he had a big family. So different from me being an only child," said Francine giving him a bright smile and oozing charm. "So are all your brothers here tonight, Sweetie?" she asked, archly.

Efraim almost couldn't restrain the start of surprise he gave at hearing the endearment. "Uh, yes, I think so." He turned to look around the room and then began pointing them out. "That's Ben, that's Caleb, and the one in the corner with the kids hanging on him who oddly enough looks exactly like him, is his twin, David. I'll introduce you to everyone else in a bit, but it's better to try and figure everybody out in small doses. Or not at all – you pick." He gave her a quick wink.

"Aaron, Ben, Caleb, Daniel," she repeated. "Wait a minute…"

"Ah, you've caught me," giggled Mrs. Beaman beside her. "When we first came to America after the war, one of the first movies I ever saw was 'Seven Brides for Seven Brothers'. I already had Aaron and Ben and I was pregnant with the twins at the time and the idea just took."

"And Effy here drew the short straw and got named after the guy who was a ballet dancer," said Aaron, punching him in the arm.

"Well, that's not such a bad thing. I know I had a huge crush on Mikhail Baryshnikov back in the day. Ballet dancers are pretty hot," said Francine, still smiling but not quite as warmly as before. "And funnily enough, they're almost always underestimated by men."

Aaron blinked, then turned to his brother. "Holy shit, Ef, where'd you find this one? She's gorgeous, funny and way, way out of your league. Are you sure you didn't bring Cabe's date by mistake?"

"Shut up, Aaron."

"Boys, boys – you know it's rude to speak Hebrew in front of guests," said a new voice. An almost identical version of Efraim turned to greet Francine. "Welcome to our home, Miss Desmond – I'm Harold, Efraim's father." Now, face on, she could see that the signs of age that showed the difference between Efraim and his father, but as she glanced around, she could see that he was the one who looked most like the family patriarch. "Pardon my sons' rudeness- you might think they were brought up in a barn, but I assure you they weren't." His eyes twinkled behind his glasses and Francine liked him immediately.

"Oh, I would never think that for a moment, Sir," she replied. "Efraim is always so thoughtful to me. So dependable and… sober." She couldn't resist sneaking a look at Efraim who flushed scarlet at the last part.

"Glad to hear it," answered Harold. "I want to hear all about how you two met later but now…" he glanced at his watch – "It's time to light the candles. Gather round, children," he went on, not really raising his voice but somehow managing to bring the room to silence.

Francine gave Efraim's hand a squeeze along with a nod of the head and went to stand along the wall where she could observe without getting in the way. After an initial check over his shoulder that she was settled, she watched as Efraim lost himself in the timeless ritual, watching his father lead the blessing, the bracha, over the menorah. Having lit the shamash candle, his father invited each of his grandsons over to light one of the candles. First was the smallest grandson, Nathan, who had to be lifted up and helped by his father, Ben, the small boy grinning from ear to ear with glee that he was old enough this year to take part in the ceremony and Ben looking equally proud. This was the brother Efraim had mentioned was his favorite, she remembered, the one who was usually the one to step in when the twins' fraternal teasing had gotten too much. Each child stepped forward to take part and soon the room blazed with the light of the menorah and love of the family. It was not a long ceremony, but it was moving to Francine and she enjoyed seeing Efraim so relaxed and unguarded, caught up in family and tradition – he was rarely completely relaxed around her, even now that they were friends. When it was done, and he turned to find her again, she couldn't help smiling at him and watched his face light up with a grin in return.

"So out of your league."

"Does she turn your lights off and on for the Sabbath?"

"I'm pretty sure she turns something on."

"No kidding – I should take a shot at her – she can't seriously want to have hamburger when she could have steak…"

"Shut up - she's my friend and you're being assholes."

"Oh I get it now - she's not even rolling your matzo balls at all, is she? Did you bribe her to come here? Does she think the gelt is real money?"

"You can date all the moronic bimbos you want but that woman is worth ten of you! One more crack out of you and..."

"What? You'll computer nerd me to death? Gimme a break."

She could see Efraim's face hardening from time to time as the twins talked and laughed between themselves, but she pretended not to notice, concentrating instead on charming his parents.

"So you know each other from work?" asked his mother, passing her a plate of rugelach.

"Yes – we've known each other a few years but only recently started dating," said Francine. "He started to pursue me and he was just so… touching." Her eyes met Efraim's and he lifted his hands in mock surrender. "How could I resist?"

"Easily I would have thought."

The burst of laughter from his brothers was instantly quelled by a look from their mother and a curt "Enough!"

"Thanks, Ma."

Francine pretended not to notice the interruption. "It's so nice to date someone like Efraim when Washington is so full of phonies – you know the kind, the ones who think they're a big deal because they work on Capitol Hill and that a girl will fall all over them because they wear expensive suits? Like any real woman is going to be impressed by a lobbyist when they're so boring!"

Mrs. Beaman looked like she was trying hard not to laugh, but she did sneak a look at Efraim who was watching Francine with an expression of gratitude and awe.

"And I bet he hasn't even told you about how he helped save me from being kidnapped by a madman." Francine knew that his family knew he worked for an intelligence agency, even if they didn't know the details.

"Now, you know that's not true! I didn't save you – Lee saved you," he interrupted.

"Lee was only at the right place at the right time because of all your work on the computer," she corrected him. She turned back to his mother. "He's a genius on those things – there's no one that can hold a candle to him at work."

"Cut it out," he muttered.

"Sweetie," she looked at him wide-eyed. "If you won't toot your own horn, I have to do it for you."

She could see him struggling with the concept, but then his mother squeezed his arm and smiled at him. "I think it's so nice to hear about you from your friends, Dear. You'd never tell us these things."

"He is far too modest," agreed Francine. "I honestly don't know what we'd do without him. And the recruits are all terrified of him."

She could see the brothers who were still within earshot exchanging looks of disbelief, even Ben.

"You can be very proud, Mrs. Beaman. You have a fine son." She purposely left that singular.

"You really must call me Ruth," said his mother. "Because I think we're going to be friends. Now come into the kitchen where it's quieter and tell me all the stories he'll never tell himself."

"I'd be happy to, Ruth," answered Francine, standing up to follow her out of the room. "I could talk about Efraim all day." She made sure to reach up and caress his cheek with a wink as she left and enjoyed the long "whoooo-hooo" sound that followed her departure.

"I'm sorry about my sons," said Ruth. "They're not bad individually but they can be a giant pain in the ass when they're all together."

"Boys will be boys," said Francine lightly. "Now, is that more sufganiyot I see over there?"

"It is." Ruth brought the plate to the kitchen table. She looked around to make sure no one else was listening. "Now I know you two aren't really dating - Efraim never lies to me - but I can see you're good friends so... tell me everything."

Efraim didn't manage to pry her loose from her mother's clutches for another hour, not that she noticed the passage of time, too busy enjoying his mother's stories about him as a small boy and storing them up to tease him with later. Aaron and Ben's wives came to join them along with David's girlfriend and since Ruth was just as happy to share embarrassing stories about their husbands as well, the kitchen was soon competing with the children's noise levels because of the raucous laughter.

"Honey, are you ready to go?" Efraim's hand came down on her shoulder and squeezed lightly. "I think you've had to put up with my family long enough." He was already dressed for outside and holding her coat.

She looked up and caught the little furrow on his forehead and a grim expression that suggested that actually he was the one who had enough of his family – or at least his brothers.

"Sure, Sweetie." She stood up and rested her hand on his arm. "I am a bit tired. And your mother's wonderful cooking has almost put me into a sugar coma. I'm so full, I'll probably pass out in the car."

"I knew it – that's got to be the only way he can get a shiksa like that into bed." Caleb was almost knocked over by the slap to the back of his head from his father and Efraim started forward, stopped only by Ben who stepped in front of him and murmured something too quiet for her to hear. Whatever it was, it calmed him down enough to unclench the fist he'd unconsciously made and she breathed a sigh of relief that she wasn't going to end up in the middle of a family fight.

On the other hand, she could tell from the look on his parents' face that they were equally as furious as Efraim and the thin-lipped looks they were shooting at their other boys didn't bode well for what was going to happen next. Well, she'd behaved all night, and now it was time to deliver on her promise before they left. She gave Efraim a supportive smile and slid an arm around his waist before turning to his parents.

"Thank you so much for including me this evening. It was so… enlightening to finally meet all these brothers he's described so accurately," she said in flawless Hebrew. "Efraim tells me you're leaving for Florida on Friday so I'll wish you a good trip and maybe I can take you for coffee and get more stories when you're home again?"

There was a long pause while his mother took in what she'd said and then, "I would be delighted to have coffee with you," said Ruth, her face breaking out into a huge smile. "I told you we were going to be friends."

"Well, I'm glad you think so. I was a little nervous about making a good impression tonight since Efraim is so way, way out of the league of a shiksa like me."

She looked over at his brothers as she repeated that harsh insult with extra emphasis and to her satisfaction, Caleb went pale and took an involuntarily step backward. The silence in the kitchen stretched out for so long that she could almost hear Efraim's brothers' mentally replaying every other insult they'd said out loud that night and then Harold started to laugh loudly and came forward to wrap Francine in a bear hug.

"I knew my boy had good taste in his friends."

"Good night, Ma. I'll be back in the morning to take you and Poppa to the airport, okay?" Efraim leaned down to give his tiny mother a hug, before turning to stare balefully at his scarlet-faced brothers for a moment and then sweeping Francine out of the house. He didn't say another word until they were in the car.

"How?" was all he said.

"Well, my parents think I spent 1978 on a kibbutz," Francine said cheerfully. "But actually I was getting Mossad training and so, of course, I had to learn Hebrew. And I've kept it up because it's useful in the field since most people don't speak it."

"You understood everything my brothers said all night?" he asked in a strangled voice.

"Oh yeah. You were right about Caleb being a jerk."

Efraim dropped his head onto the steering wheel. "Oh my God, I am so sorry. I'm used to them all being assholes but I had no idea…"

"Well I also heard you defending me like my very own white knight, so that was nice, and your mother is really sweet." He still looked miserable and she punched him lightly in the arm. "Oh come on, it was fun, and I could have told them where to go in the first five minutes and used some pretty specific Israeli Army slang to do it, but there were children present and then we also wouldn't have had that excellent payoff just now. Did you see Caleb's face? I think he may have wet himself," she said with satisfaction. "And your parents love me."

"They're not the only ones," he replied with real feeling. "I thought I was just going to enjoy having the prettiest girl in the room but that was… just awesome." He looked over and finally started to laugh. "Oh man, my parents must be ripping them new ones. They were already in trouble but now that everyone knows you understood them…"

"Glad I could help. You can consider that your eighth present," she grinned. "It really was fun. We should do it again." He was laughing too hard to respond now. "In fact, didn't you invite me to your nephew's bar mitzvah once?"

"Probably," he answered. "Apparently I've asked you to move to Greece with me to raise goats, so why wouldn't I have invited you to a bar mitzvah?"

"Because all your nephews are way too young? The first one won't even be 13 for at least another two years!"

"Ah well, you see, that was just forward thinking. You know - book you so far in advance that you couldn't possibly have an excuse to get out of it."

"Wow, I've really been underestimating your deviousness. But I don't think we should wait two years for another evening out, do you?"

Efraim stared at her, not entirely certain she wasn't getting ready to pull the football away like Lucy with Charlie Brown. "Really?"

"Really," she answered. She started to smile even more broadly. "You could come for Christmas at Amanda's. You know she'd be happy to have you."

"Knowing Amanda, she probably would but I can't, since I'm on the roster at work." He shrugged at her look of disappointment. "Well, it doesn't bother me or Rosenstein if we work Christmas and Billy never makes a big deal about it but he always makes sure we're cleared from the roster for days like Yom Kippur."

"That sounds like him," she nodded. "So New Year's Eve instead then?"

Efraim stared at her for a moment, trying to decide if she was serious before finally starting to smile. "Yours or mine?"

"Well, let's start with mine. Rosh Hashanah is months away and your mother will be so disappointed if I have to tell her our next date isn't until September." She reached over and ruffled his hair. "Happy Hanukkah, Efraim."

He grabbed her hand and brought it to his lips. "Merry Christmas, Francine."