Run, Barry. Run.

The wind beats against his skin, the ground disappears under his feet, as he prepares to turn on his antagonist in a climactic move. "Ow!'' the hero screams and falls to his knees.

An arrow protrudes from the overconfident arrogant speedster. "You shot me!" Barry shouts at his friend. Oliver struggles to keep a straight face. "You are invested too much in the theatrics. It will get you killed. Again!"

Barry stumbles to his knees but staggers back to the ground as the arrow is forcefully removed. "If I didn't know better, I would think that you are purposely torturing me." "We have a war to fight Barry and you have to be ready."

"Again," Oliver pulls back his arrow and releases. "You missed," Barry laughs relieved. "I don't miss." Barry turns to find the arrow self-imploding less than a foot away from him. "Ouch!"

"Again!"

"Again!"

"Again!"

"Again!"

"Stop!" Barry bends over with another arrow protruding from his skin, this time in his shin. "You got something to tell me, Barry?" "Yeah, I'm done training with you." Oliver cracks a rare smile behind the speedsters back. "Anything else?" Barry turns to his 'friend', his face flushed from running and anger. "You're-" Barry stops.

"Seriously?!" He exclaims as recognition dawns. "This was never about training." Oliver keeps his composure as he answers, "What are you talking about Bar?" That nickname confirms Barry's suspicion. "You got something else to say Bar?" Oliver asks again. "Yeah, I am dating your sister."

"I know," Oliver smiles as he walks over to Diggle. "30 mins. Damn," Diggle shakes his head as he fishes fifty bucks out of his pocket and hands it to Oliver. "I bet you wouldn't last 10."