She showed him what passed for a smile. The kind of smile that would make brave men flinch. There were gaps wide enough to hold a cigar and chips sharp enough to slice them, but technically it was nothing more than that. A smile.
Now, one could be forgiven for confusing it with a set of piano keys, an awkward grimace, or even a display of malice, but given the context, the most scientifically accurate interpretation would be to label it ghoulo-sapien cum ridet, a smile.
Nevertheless, as smiles go, this one would not find its way into any dictionary definition, stock photo, or billboard selling high quality toothpaste. No, this was hardly what you would call the Platonic ideal of a smile. It was, as its wearer was fond of saying, anatomically incorrect. A great big nest of teeth.
But it lit him up all the same.