It was three days later before Briar Patch was healed enough to notice that his clothes were missing. Poison Ivy had left them to dry somewhere, she had said, but hadn't mentioned when she'd bring them back. The worst of his bruises had turned black, but wasn't hurting as bad now. His nose still itched and he was afraid to move his ankle. His whole body would fill with painful fireworks if he moved it too quickly.

Poison Ivy dropped in to the room from a passage way in the ceiling and landed without a sound. He assumed they were somewhere underground, but was nowhere near exploring strength to find out. He eyed her carefully as she approached him. Her arms were full of leaves and sprigs of things he didn't recognize. He couldn't be sure what she was up to and her smirks and secrets weren't confidence inspiring.

Poison Ivy seated herself next to him and gave his ankle a teasing, but gentle pat. While he watched, she stuffed the little plants she'd brought into her mouth and began to chew.

"Are you a Charmkin?" he asked. She sputtered, and her ice-blue eyes became mostly ice. "You're too pretty to be a Weed..." he added, which was certainly true. Her red outfit was sleek and clean and all her leaves were full and green. She made a snorting chuckle of a sound, then spat a wad of chewed leaf paste into her hand.

"I'm no tame little garden pet," she said. "The Charmkins can't live outside their neat little fences and gardens. I'm the Witch of the Woodlands, and I can take care of myself." She reached out to Briar Patch's face and he flinched back from her. Her face clouded, displeasure leaving a line between her eyebrows.

"I have briars," he stammered by way of explanation. "You'll stick your hands... The boss calls us stickerheads for a reason!" Her expression cleared to a more familiar, mocking one.

"I've been doing this every day since I found you," she informed him. "I've gotten the hang of it." Before he could protest again, she leaned in and began to dab the chewed paste on the gash. Tiny prickles of pain lit up in the wound, and Briar Patch did his best not to grimace as she patted the fresh poultice on. Then she blew on it so it would dry faster. Once it was done to her satisfaction, she ran her hands up into his hair just to make him squirm. Now that it was clean, his hair was soft and fine as thistledown, but growing here and there in it were tiny tendrils of briars. She felt the tiny jabs, but none of them broke the skin.

Briar Patch was unsure how to respond to such attention. He could feel himself blushing, and as if in reaction to the blood in his face, or perhaps such close proximity to Poison Ivy herself, the itch on his nose intensified worse than ever. He scratched at it timidly, hoping she wouldn't notice. She caught the movement however, and a real smile curved her lips. Leaning in even closer, she planted a light kiss on his nose. The itchiness vanished like a popped bubble and Briar Patch's blush went all the way to the tips of his ears.

"I can deal it and I can heal it," she told him.

'Th-that's amazing," he said, honestly impressed. He was still speaking softly, but she wasn't sure why. Maybe there was still some pain left in him, maybe it was out of deference to her, it didn't really matter. The compliment pleased her and she rewarded him with another sincere smile.

"It only works on my own itchies," she said, feigning a modest shrug. "And magic isn't much good against physical pain." She gave his ankle a miffed glance, like the bone had refused to heal to spite her.

"I'm glad you found me," he said. "The others wouldn't have been able to help. The Charmkins wouldn't have cared."

"Oh, they would've tried to help anyway," Poison Ivy's pale eyes rolled. "Tried to teach you to sprout blossoms or berries. Tried to make you BETTER... by their standards anyway."

"You really don't like them, do you?" He had settled down into the moss pillow. Ivy turned her sharp gaze on him.

"It's a matter of giving back as good as I get," she told him. "I'm a mirror for them. With an edge, of course." Her smirk came back. "Everybody knows it's bad luck when you aren't careful with a mirror."