AN: In honour of yesterday and tonight. PS I HAVE NOT SEEN THOSE EPISODES YET, SO NO SPOILERS

Cheetahs v Stars

Seven Years Ago

Oliver Queen didn't want to be found. He sat alone in the massive crowds who were attending the football game, cold air tickling his nose. A pair of thick dark shades covered his eyes, along with a thick green hooded jumper.

Every once in a while, he just wanted to escape, the drama, the responsibilities, the guilt. He didn't want to be recognised by his family, Tommy, Laurel, Sara, the police or even the paparazzi. He just wanted to be himself, and a normal human being.

Where exactly had he planned this to be himself? Well… Starling City Stars were playing a friendly football match against the Central City Cheetahs. He wasn't even sitting in his usual VIP box, with squishy seats Champagne from Moët, but instead a cheap hard plastic seat with a bottle of Budweiser. Although his comfort and taste levels didn't match their usual standards, the quiet and rest felt like heaven to him.

The teams were halfway through the pre-match festivities, when a young man in a scarlet hoody sat down next to him. Oliver guessed he was in his late teens, a thick mop of dark brown hair poked out from under the hood of the lanky boy's slightly too large jumper. The kid had a cream knapsack, which seemed to weigh heavily on his shoulders.

The kid pulled a slightly bent comic book out of his bag and began to read it. Oliver wondered what type of person brought a comic book to a sports match.

Oliver eventually ignored the scarlet reader next to him, he checked his phone. He had two texts, one of each of the Lance sisters. Laurel was asking him to look at some new property that she had chosen, Oliver ignored it. Despite loving Laurel, he had no intention of moving in with her. Sara's text was simply her asking about the boat trip he was going on with his dad, in a fortnight.

He was about to respond to that text, when the brunette teen (whom he had forgotten about) accidently spilt some coke on the bottom of his trouser leg. The kid tried to stop the accident but was too late.

"I am so sorry, so sorry. I... um… didn't meant to… Hang on, use this." The awkward apologising kid tried to hand him a red towel. Who carried a towel? And what was it with this kid and red.

"Uh… Thanks?" Oliver took the towel, and wiped the soda of his jeans. "Why are you carrying a towel? And why are you wearing so much red? I mean, you're even wearing red converse!"

"I'm from Central City, and it was raining. And I missed a… few trains, like I always do. Anyway, my… uh… Iris told me to take a towel for my hair," the kid explained quickly, he blushed slightly. He then took, a deep breath, before continuing, each word coming out faster than the next, "Red is my favourite colour, it reminds me of fire, which is one of the needs for human life. Red is like my colour or something. I mean you like green, don't you? You are wearing a green hoody, the green phone case, green watch, and you even have a green name."

"Wow, you're observant aren't you? Wait, green name? Great, you know who I am!" Oliver grumbled.

"Don't worry Mr Que-"

"Call me Oliver."

"Ok… Oliver, I won't tell. I mean, it's really obvious you don't want to be found, so my lips are sealed," The kid promised, going back to his comic book.

Oliver watched the younger man for a moment.

"What's your name?" Oliver asked.

"Barry… Allen. I'm an undergraduate at Central City University, I'm studying Forensics Sciences," Barry explained, not looking up.

Oliver sat there feeling slightly overwhelmed by the fast-talking teenager, who was keeping a secret for him, without even blinking an eye.

"You're a little young to be in university, right?" Oliver studied Barry. The boy couldn't be older than 17.

"Not really, well, I got in at 17, and I'm in my second year now. Also my 19th birthday is in a week."

Oliver suddenly felt very conscious that he had got into Starling University at 19, barely.

"Whatcha reading?" Oliver asked, changing the subject.

"A comic…" Barry mumbled.

Oliver raised an eye brow. Barry flipped to the cover page.

"'The Astounding Adventures of Jay Garrick as The Flash, the Fastest Man Alive!' Sounds interesting," Oliver admitted, despite the fact he actually disliked comics, or so he said. Nobody, aside from Tommy, knew about the mint condition Robin Hood comics hidden in his wardrobe.

"He's so awesome! He's never late, he doesn't miss trains. Oh and he saves people, by simply running!" Barry blabbered.

"I imagine having Super Speed would be cool, or being a Superhero," Oliver mused, "Although I think the most adequate weapon of choice is the bow and arrow, like Robin Hood. He is the coolest superhero with a bow and arrow, yeah!"

"That would be really cool, but you'd have to be careful how you disguised yourself though. Nah, I'd still choose speed," Barry grinned, then in a melancholy tone he mumbled, "I wish I could be faster..."

Oliver didn't know how to react to that, as he wasn't sure what exactly had upset the kid. He also didn't exactly have a great track record of cheering people up. Eventually both men went back to their previous activity, until the match began.

Both men watched the match with baited breath, cheering for their respective sides, booing bad refereeing, and bitterly congratulating each other when the other team scored. At half time the score was leaning more towards Central City, to Oliver's annoyance.

After getting some refreshments, he noticed he noticed Barry had pulled out a text book.

"What are you reading now?" Oliver asked confused.

"John's textbook on DNA and Eye Witness Testimonies," Barry answered, scribbling a note on the book, "The Stars are gonna win."

"Why do you say that?"

"Well, as much as it pains me the problem is our left winger, Sebastian Smythe. He is very good in the first half, but he tends to start making mistakes in the final quarter," Barry explained. "His counterpart Whatcha-McCalled Anderson, on your team, is smaller but much faster, and tends to improve in the final Quarter."

"We'll see soon," Oliver nudged him, as the match restarted.

They watched the second half as before, but commentating occasionally on performance, and tactics. Sadly for the Cheetah's, Barry was right, and Starling's won. At the end of the match both men stood up, and faced one another.

"Well goodbye, Oliver." Barry smiled, sticking a hand out.

"See you around, Barry." Oliver grinned, shaking the hand.

They left the stadium, doubting they'd ever meet again

- (l/l)

"I'm just not sure I'm like you, Oliver. I don't know if I can be some... vigilante."

Oliver looked at the younger, suddenly much faster man in front of him. No, Barry wasn't exactly the type to become a vigilante. Anyway Oliver wouldn't want to wish it on the bubble forensic scientist.

He then remembered a conversation almost a decade ago. He couldn't help be slightly disbelieving, that those two young men who had once discussed the useful-ness of super speed and superheroes, were now standing on a rooftop in Starling discussing the exact same thing. However instead of Robin Hood and Jay Garrick, it was themselves as speedsters and heroes.

"You can be better. Because you can inspire people in a way that I never could - watching over your city like a guardian angel, making a difference, saving people in a… flash," At first Barry looked at him confused. Then recognition, and then realisation crossed his features.

Oliver gave a tiny nod toward the Speedster. Barry returned it grinning.

Oliver then moved away putting on his mask

"Take your own advice, wear a mask," Oliver told him, before shooting a grapple arrow and swinging away.

Behind him, he heard an Barry's awed voice murmur, "Cool!"

Then a whoosh was heard from behind him, and Oliver turned just in time to see a red streak run down a John's street.

"Cool!" He admitted smiling.