Dear diary Journal thingy,

When we were

When I think about

These stupid journals!

Fury thinks that recording what happens to us will help us 'deal with our emotions' or some crap like that. I guess that I should just get this over with. I've never been one to shy away from an assignment, if you can even call this one.

Let's see… what can I talk about? Well, I could talk about my missions or my co-workers, or... my partner. Because that's all he is. I know what everybody thinks about me and Clint. I'm not oblivious to all the stares we get in the hallway. Or the rumors constantly spreading like wildfire. Yet, even though all the ones spreading the rumors think they have the right image of us, none of them do. None of them have any idea of the intimacy shared between me and Clint. We rely on each other. All the time. Inside and out of the field. We are each other's rock; we're all each other has. I am his family, and he is mine. And although it is such a real possibility, I can't even begin to think what would happen if he were suddenly gone. I won't let that happen though, because I haven't yet repaid my debt in full. Though for some reason, just as much as I have his back, he seems to have mine. But simply because we seem to admire each other for our skills and appreciate that we can rely and trust each other, people seem to think that we are more than partners. However, what they don't realize is that we are so much more than just 'sleeping together' or 'dating'. Yes, we are close. After missions we go to each other for comfort because we are each other's support system.

I just realized something: the huge number of times I just said 'each other'. I guess that's kind of hard to avoid, though. We are essentially the 'each other'… to each other. When we're talking to someone else, they don't even have to ask whom we're talking about when Clint or I use that term.

But… even I would like us to be more than just partners, there are two reasons that it could never happen. One, I would never jeopardize what we have, and two, the bigger reason, the one I don't even think I should be writing in this stupid journal, is that... he... he... he would never feel the same way about me… as I feel about him.

Clint looked up from Natasha's journal. He hadn't meant to read it but he had a natural curiosity that he couldn't seem to satisfy until he did exactly what he shouldn't do. Normally, he would hope she would never discover that he had read it, and if she did he'd use the usual excuses: "I didn't mean to," and "I didn't even know you were keeping one." But right now, he couldn't process anything, let alone contemplate her reaction if she found out he'd read it. He placed the journal back down on her desk carefully, in the exact same place he'd found it, and walked 'nonchalantly' out of her room. He crossed the hall without even thinking about it, and proceeded to walk into his room, sit down on his bed and place his head into his hands.

He'd been told he had to write a journal too, but he never dreamed someone wouldn't respect his privacy and read it, like he just did to Natasha. He never dreamed Natasha of all people would admit anything like this, not even to her journal. He knew they were always close; he had always loved how close they were. How he could always be himself around her. They didn't have to hide around each other, because they already knew who each other really was. So, the real question was… was her second reason to not explore more into their relationship valid? Did he care for Natasha more than just because he was her partner? As he was thinking about this, he stood abruptly, and with a seemingly definite walk (though to outsiders he looked a lot more uncertain) he strolled out of his room to confront the issue at hand.