Title: Choose
Author: Gypsy
Feedback: Please? Send it to Gypsy_gray@msn.com
Rating: R (bad words, m/m)
Summary: What if, before he came up with the idea for a threesome, Banky made Holden choose?
Warnings: Spoilers for "Chasing Amy." Some angst. UST.
Disclaimer: They all belong to Kevin Smith. I'm not making any money off this. In fact, I'm only 
writing it because I love his characters so much that my muses threatened to take away my copy 
of "Mallrats" if I didn't. I'm sure that if anyone could understand that, Kevin would. Besides, 
I'm broke. The only thing you'll get if you sue me is a credit card bill and a dog named Murphy 
that can say "I love you."
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"Banky get out here."

Banky Edwards came out of his room and stood leaning in the doorway watching his friend. If 
Holden had been paying attention he would have known something was wrong. When he finally did 
turn around and look at his friend...he still wasn't paying attention.

"Come on Bank. Alyssa will be here soon and I need to talk to the two of you together."

"No."

"Bank?"

"No more Holden. I can't do this. I won't."

"Banky what the fuck are you talking about? I don't have time for this."

"Fuck You!! You haven't had time for me since your pet dyke showed up!"

"Don't say that shit about her!!"

"I'll say what I want! Nobody gives a shit but you! Or haven't you noticed that the only people 
who freak when a fag calls a dyke a dyke are straight."

"Wha...Banky?"

"Don't act like you didn't know Holden. You and your ego have been getting off on the fact that 
I'd do anything for you for the last two decades. I wasn't even gonna say anything this time. I 
was gonna set back and watch you ride that bitch off into the freakin sunset, but had this 
bizarre ass vision of me standing in a bad tux watching you marry that fucking rugmuncher. I'm 
not so completely hopeless that I'm prepared to accept being called Uncle Banky by your kids."

"You gotta calm down. Bank we can work this out."

"No. There is no working this out. This is and either/or situation. As in either her or me. I 
warned you there'd be a moment when you had to choose. This is it. I won't share you anymore. I 
can't."

Holden was stunned. He'd been prepared to force Banky into facing his feelings, and now Banky 
was forcing him to face them. He'd never seen his friend like this and he didn't know how to 
react. All he knew was that the person he had relied on and trusted for twenty years was 
standing in front of him with tears in his eyes waiting for him to decide their future.

Alyssa walked in before he could speak and Holden watched as all the love and pain that had been 
in Banky's eyes was covered by an unreadable wall. He moved into the living room and sat on his 
couch. The taller man watched as he friend moved away from him with an air of resignation, in 
Banky's mind Holden had made his choice.

"Hey guys. What's up?"

For once Alyssa's voice didn't capture Holden's mind. He stood there looking at his friend and 
thinking about the life they'd led. All the things they'd done and seen, and how they'd always 
done those things together. And then from somewhere came an image he absolutely wasn't ready 
for. Banky....Banky in the arms of some guy. He saw his friend being kissed and touched and 
touching back. And Holden MacNeil was seriously pissed off.

It wasn't like finding out about Alyssa's past. Then he'd been angry at her for not being what 
he thought she was. But now....now he was seriously fucking pissed off. There was no fucking way 
some needle dicked cum wad was getting their hands on Banky. Banky was his. Banky was....

"Shit."

"Holden?"

"Alyssa I...asked you to come here to say I was sorry. This was a mistake. You can't be what I 
need and I can't accept you like you are. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you. I fucked up alot 
of things recently and I need to get them fixed."

The woman's right hook got better everytime she threw it. Holden rubbed his jaw as she stormed 
out the door and slammed it behind her. When he was sure she was gone he locked the door. 
Looking over to the couch he saw Banky looking at him with suspicious eyes. Walking to his 
friend and kneeling down in front of him, he put his hands on Banky's knees and looked into his 
eyes.

"You Banky. It's you."

The End