Darkness had long descended on the the waterfronts of Vanhoover. Dim lamps flickered along the wooden docks and concrete coasts; the sounds of splashing water, flapping sails and creaking boats filled the still air. Far away over the dark, choppy water, distant lightning flickered on the horizon.

A golden pegasus stole down the dark waterfronts, moving from shadow to shadow. She spotted her target in the distance: a white two-masted yacht docked at the last pier, bobbing up and down in the water. If her contact had been telling the truth, then that boat contained the ponies that she had spent two weeks looking for. She just hoped that she was in time.

She squinted ahead, pushing her prematurely gray mane out of her eyes, and spotted a lone pony standing on the upper deck of the yacht in front of the door to the main cabin, smoking a cigarette. The tiny flicker of the cigarette stood out in the darkness. Taking flight, the intruder flew over the docks to the yacht, careful to keep as many objects between the sentry and her. Within moments, she had reached striking distance. Even in the darkness, she could see the tattoos that marked the other pony's body: swirling marks in a bizarre language, the red and green seeming to glow in the night.

She smirked to herself. Just one guard, lazy, inattentive. Too easy. She spread her wings and shot forward silently. Her enemy never saw or heard her coming. She struck him on the back of the head with a powerful elbow strike, knocking him out instantly. She caught his falling form and gently set it down on the deck to prevent it from making noise. Stealing over to the main cabin, she peeked up through the window.

The interior was lit with candles, their lights swaying and flickering with the rocking of the boat. Three more muscle-bound earth ponies with similar tattoos were gathered around a small table, placing a number of items on it: small vials of liquids, jars of incense, piles of salt and carved stones and animal bones. Looking over in the corner, the intruder saw a young mare tied to a chair, her head lolling as if she were dazed.

"Hurry, brothers!" she heard the largest of the tattooed ponies shout through the windows. "The time for the sacrifice approaches!"

The pegasus gritted her teeth. She was almost too late; she had to act quickly. She examined the dark cabin and the ponies therein, plotting out a plan of attack.

"Hey!"

She whirled around to find another cultist standing behind her, already drawing a sharp, curved blade from his cloak. She whirled into an attack, preparing to take him down before he could draw his weapon, but there was suddenly a loud thump and the cultist slumped to the deck, unconscious. Standing behind him was a stallion in a green vest and a gray hat, holding a extendable baton. The ponies paused in confusion; the stallion's eyes fixed upon her and she saw recognition flash within them.

"Daring Do?" asked the gravely voice.

Daring Do started in surprise, not so much because this other pony knew her name, but because she recognized him as well. "Phillip Finder?"

Suddenly, the door to the cabin burst open and the three cultists raced out, looking enraged at the appearance of these intruders. "Kill them, brothers!" the cult leader shouted. "They must not interfere!"

Two of the cultists each engaged Phillip and Daring, cutting at them with their knives. Daring ducked beneath a wild slash at her head and countered with a roundhouse kick to her attacker's gut. He snarled and attacked again. She ducked again, spun into him with an elbow strike to his gut while grabbing his arm, and threw him over her shoulder and onto the deck of the ship. Turning, she saw Phillip strike his attacker on the wrist with his baton to disarm him of his knife, then hit him across the jaw, doubled him over with a kick to the groin, and finished him with a knee to jaw.

With a vicious snarl, the cult leader charged Phillip, leaping into the air and attacking with a flying punch. Sidestepping the attack, Phillip swung his baton at the attacker's shaved head. Even before he touched down, the hulking pony grabbed Phillip's baton and punched at his face. Neatly deflecting the punch with his free arm, Phillip tried to counter with a strike to the nose, only to receive a headbutt to the face. The cult leader then kicked Phillip in the chest, sending him flying back into the railing of the deck.

Daring leapt into the air, aiming her best kick right at her foe's head. He blocked the attack and twisted his body powerfully, slamming her down onto the deck. All the breath exploded out of Daring from the force of the impact. She looked up to see the cultist aiming a stomp kick at her face and quickly rolled out of the way. Instead of crushing her skull, the giant hoof smashed into the deck, denting it.

Meanwhile, Phillip had gotten back up and charged again. Whirling, the cult pony sent out a flurry of kicks, forcing Phillip back on the defensive. He backpedaled quickly, blocking every kick until he was caught out by a sweeping kick to the leg that staggered him. Leaping, the cultist whirled in midair to deliver a powerful kick to Phillip's jaw, only for Daring to hit him in the back and send him crashing to the deck.

Daring and Phillip stood side by side against their foe, who quickly got back to his hooves, panting. He kicked out at Daring, only to be struck in the chest by Phillip. He swung at Phillip but was kicked in the side by Daring. No matter which way he turned, he was struck from where he wasn't looking by the pony whom he wasn't facing. Blow by blow, his defenses crumbled. He punched desperately at Phillip, who seized his arm in a lock and forced him to bend over. Daring rushed in and kneed him hard in the face. He staggered back, blood streaming from his nose. Spinning around, Phillip kicked him in the gut, causing him to double over. As one, Daring and Phillip leapt up and kicked as hard as they could. The double blow impacted against the cultist's skull like a pair of sledgehammers, sending him crashing to the deck, out cold.

Both ponies stood over his unconscious form for a moment, panting heavily, then Phillip turned and quickly walked into the cabin. Hurrying over to the bound mare, he pressed his hoof against her neck, checking her pulse. Sighing quietly in relief, he pulled out a pocketknife and cut her loose, lifting her up onto his back.

"So what are you doing here?" Daring Do asked, retrieving his dropped baton and handing it to him. "You're not in the Guard anymore?"

Phillip didn't answer for a moment, instead choosing to concentrate on putting his weapon back into its pocket. "Left," he grunted after a moment. "Was looking for her. She'd been kidnapped two nights ago, latest in series of three ritual kidnappings and murders across the coast."

"I know," Daring said. "These ponies are part of the Sect of Xolotl. They were going to try to sacrifice her to try to resurrect their god."

Phillip stared at her for a moment, blinking in obvious disbelief. "You're serious?"

"Dead," Daring replied, following him down the dock to the head of the waterfront. Reaching a callbox, Phillip gently set the unconscious mare down, draping his vest over her, then used the phone to call the City Guard and an ambulance.

Daring settled down next to him uncertainly. She was still relatively new to adventuring, still relying primarily on the tutelage and mentorship of Professor Ravenhoof, and for some reason, she didn't like hanging around and letting the Guard question her; she'd found that they were often hesitant to believe her stories.

There was the snick of a lighter, and she turned to see Phillip lighting a cigarette. He offered her one, which she gratefully accepted, and lit it for her.

"Haven't seen you since Pranceton," Daring said, taking a slow draught of the tobacco.

"You either," Phillip replied. "Last I heard, you were doing freelance adventuring work." He was silent for a moment, looking back at the yacht bobbing silently at the last pier.

"These cultists," he said. "Are there more of them?"

"Plenty," Daring replied. "Them and the ponies who support them. Cultists, grave robbers, treasure hunters, smugglers."

"They all dangerous?"

"These guys were on the lower tier," Daring answered, jerking her head back at the yacht. "But I can handle them."

"Didn't say you couldn't," Phillip said. The victim groaned quietly, stirring on the ground. Phillip bent over her, gently touching her shoulder, and she slumped back into unconsciousness. "But two heads are better than one."

Daring cocked her head. "You want to work together?"

"These ponies are hurting others. If we can help each other, better for us and everypony...except them." Phillip looked down at the unconscious mare for a moment, then turned to Daring. He extended his hoof towards her. "So, partners?"

Daring stared at his hoof for a moment, then looked at him, turning over her options in her mind. He held her gaze steady, but shifted his weight as though uncertain. After a moment, she grinned, then grasped his hoof and shook it firmly.

"Partners."

Author's Notes:

One of my first watchers and closest friends, themouthofmush, put in a request as part of my special birthday story giveaway for the story of how Phillip Finder and Daring Do first met.

The two were in the same class at Pranceton University, but did not interact a lot there (Phillip took sociology and chemistry, Daring took literature and Equestrian history). It wasn't until after Phillip left the Guard and starting working as a PI that he met Daring again, who was just starting her career as an adventuress. The rest, as they say, is history.