Milee crouched behind a bench. Locked onto her target like a cat on a rodent. She pounced, giving a cry when she grasped nothing but air. Her head swung around as her targets shadow danced up the stairs from the dusty ground kitchen.

Dashing after it, she dared to think what would the Master do if he found it out again. Last time it had ruined his lavish drapes. She cursed her clumsiness, pumping her legs harder.

Too late.

"Hey!" Milee screeched. It froze and spun around. The action, she must admit, was quite funny. So human, despite its status as a paintbrush.

A few months ago she had failed miserably at enchanting the paintbrush to make her work go faster. As far as her mistakes went, this had to top them all.

She stalked toward the paintbrush. In all its anthropomorphic humor, it backed away, handle twitching.

"Okay, now," Milee said softly, reaching out toward it. It let her get close. But only close enough to flip over and smack a thick line of ink across her hand before taking off. Cursing loudly, she ran after.

It had gotten into the mid level kitchen and was swiping black lines about in a frenzy. This time she didn't slow. Charging right at it, she was suddenly staring at the ceiling. A puddle of ink. The moisture made quick work of her thin dress.

"Milee..." the cook growled darkly. She gave him a sheepish smile. Lifting herself out of the pool, she proceeded to drip ink across the floor. "If you don't break that cursed brush I'll make sure the Master puts a limiter on you myself!" the portly man cried after her. The rest became a muffled jumble as the door swung back and forth between them.

Quickly gaining a smudge across her face, Milee decided he was right. At least in being angry about the splotches of ink she was trailing around. So she stripped to her chemise and proceeded to run after it in a very unladylike fashion.

It took next to no time for the brush to have gotten into the Masters study. Her heart nearly fell out of her chest at the sight. Oh, why must it be able to fly? she cursed herself. None of her other spells involving levitation or flight had worked, and yet her mistake had worked too well.

She crept up to the latter that rolled along the cases, careful not to rustle the papers strewn about. Rung by rung until she was level with the brush. Then pushed off against the side of a case and went flying toward it.

With a grin, Milee snatched it from its childish works. And kept flying along the wall. A few books blocked a section of the tracks. The rip of paper twisted her stomach. She nearly lost her breakfast as her ink covered hands failed her. Groaning in pain as a book stabbed her in the ribs, a deep chuckle sounded in the doorway.

"Running after that retched brush again, Milee? And in your underclothing, no less." the Master said, a touch of scandal in his tone. "I believe you were told to undo the spell on it." The brush struggled to get free of her grip, but she held on for dear life.

"I-I'll do that right away, sir!" she bowed, trying to rush past him. She was jerked back to her horror, and found the Masters piercing eyes gazing into hers. He smiled pleasantly and held out his hand. The brush obviously knew its fate as it tried harder than every to struggle away. He snapped it in two. A pulse released from the broken pieces as he let them fall to the carpet.

"Now clean this up. Alone." he said. "Every. Damn. Spot."

"Yes, sir..."

This is a bit of a remake of the Sorcerer's Apprentice from Fantasia. I seriously had so much fun writing this! How'd I do? What do you guys think?

Thanks for reading!

~Nikki W.