Written for badly-knitted's prompt at fic-promptly Any, Any, Home is two pairs of shoes side by side, by the door.

There was something that Jethro had believed in about the sense of home that had stuck with him throughout the years from the first time that Shannon had told him when they had first moved in together on base housing. They had just shut the door behind them and kicked their shoes off when she had begun to laugh, confusing him at first, before she smiled at him and told him that home is two pairs of shoes side by side, by the door. He had looked to the door where they had just left their shoes before smiling at her and laughing with her. She was mad, with all her little sayings and eccentricities, but he loved her for them.

He had fallen for the concept almost immediately though, the sight of their shoes together at the door did make the place seem like home, as odd as that may seem. When they bought their own house it was Shannon and Kelly's shoes that resided by the door, his normally kept neatly in the bedroom when he was at home, or in his boot locker when he was deployed. The two pairs of shoes, one large one small, always brought a smile to his face though when he arrived home.

When his girls were gone he had tried to recreate that sense of home, he left two pairs of his own shoes at the door, but it didn't make his house feel like home, if anything it made it feel lonely. His shoes were changed out three times, making space for a pair of the current wives shoes to take next to his. The shoes didn't give him a sense of home anymore than any of his wives had, and it wasn't long before all three pairs of shoes had disappeared from the door and his life just like the wives had.

It was then that he decided just to leave one pair of shoes at the door, the second set wasn't helping him any, and his house didn't feel much like a home anymore. One set of shoes stayed at the door and his other shoes were always put away neatly. It didn't really matter anymore if the house felt like home he spent most of his time either at work or in the basement nowadays. He had given up on that sense of home and he almost didn't notice when he felt it again, in fact he had missed it a lot at the beginning.

It was one night when Tony had come over with Chinese to talk in the basement he had gone upstairs to grab them some more beers and had noticed the other man's shoes, sat at the door side by side with his. He thought back to all the times that he had seen Tony sat on the steps to his basement, his feet clad only in socks and the enjoyment he had on those nights of quiet companionship.

Taking the beers downstairs he smiled at the thought of the Italian leather shoes that sat next to his own less expensive shoes and what the shoes themselves said about their owners. He wondered how exactly he was going to convince the owner of the expensive loafers that they should be their more often. He could tell the man, his friend and senior field agent that he didn't mind if he wanted to come around more often, let the other man lead. Or he could tell the truth, and admit to the fact that the other man made his house feel like home again.