"I understand," she said quietly, and did. She wasn't a civilian by any means, to be hurt by the fact that not everything could be shared because she demanded it; even at her clearance level, there were things that couldn't be disclosed.
She gently set the picture down as he wandered over, and for once in her life, felt as though she'd overstepped her place. Though, this, she understood, and could prove it. It was just another glimpse of vulnerability and reality of the time before SHIELD, proof that they hadn't been created right along with the organization, already in their jobs. They were human and had pasts.
She sat back down on the couch to pull out her sea bag, and pulled out the standard KA-BAR on top, then delicately fished out the photograph, battered and folded once, from where she'd shoved it into the sheath. Unfolding it, she offered it to him in answer. "First Battalion, 25th Marine Regiment, Headquarters and Service Company. Kawait, January 2003. Last time we were all in one piece," she added quietly, then took a long drink herself.
Privately, she figured that if he could tell which dusty, combat-armored figure was her, he deserved another pan of lasagna.