Let's find out! Thanks to dovil and crazydiamondsue for reasons they know all too well.
And so you will be forewarned, I may have stumbled across some "Bionic Man" fic. This will make sense when you read...
The Return of Wee!Spike: More Wee!
The tale begins here...
"Spike, I... Oh. My. Gnowrraauh!"
Angel was on all fours, Wee!Spike was inside his love hole jumping up and down on the engorged prostate secreted away (Shh! It's a secret!), and bringing about Angel's largest orgasm yet. And then... Nothing. Angel panted unnecessarily (vampire, and all) and tried to get his racing heart-rate under control. Then remembered that his heart didn't beat.
"Spike? That was fantastic. You can come out now. Spikey? Mah shortie? Wee little Beep-Beep?"
Angel began to panic. Spike, made Wee from Angel's love, was usually able to go several rounds in succession, and they had just begun their routine love-making marathon sessions, which made being a vampire fun. The sex, you know. Not the whole killing thing. But... nothing. Wait. There was something. Angel felt a fluttering in his bum. After a few moments, he realized there was a ... pattern?
Afraid of hurting his Niño Pequeño, he scootched back on his knees until he was backed up to the large mirror in the living room. Yes, it was Morse code.
"S.... O....? So in love? Oh, baby, I'm so in love, too - OUCH!"
For such a Wee little mouth, Wee!Spike could sure pack a sharp bite.
"Okay. S... O.... S? S.O.S? Spike? Oh, baby! Hang on! I'll get help! Don't you go dying on me!"
If Angel hadn't been so focused on scootching to the phone, ass cheeks clenched to keep his pygmy lover safely ensconced in his passion pouch, he would have heard a diminutive voice call out, "I'm... already... dead.. you git!"
Angel grudgingly called the one man who could save his diminished lover.
"Spike, William the Bloody, Vampire. A man barely alive. Oh, right. A vampire barely undead. Angel, we can rebuild him. We have the technology. We have the capability to make the world's first bionic vamp. Spike will be that vamp. Better than he was before: Wee-er, hornier...."
Angel almost passed out, before he realized he didn't breathe, and therefore, couldn't faint. If what Riley said was true... Was it possible? Could Spike be made MORE Wee? Hornier? It didn't seem possible. Or plausible. Why would he want anyone smaller than five inches in his bum?
"I'm sorry Riley, but why would I want anyone smaller than five inches in my bum?"
Riley smirked at the tall, brooding vampire. You'd think all the marathon sex would take that frown and turn it upside down, but...
"Okay, we aren't going to make him more Wee. That would be ridiculous. But. We will make him hornier. And bionic. But only his dick."
"Can you, um, make THAT less Wee?"
"My god, man! He's a tripod as it is! But yes. Actually, that was the first thing I thought of. For, you know, experimental reasons. You know what they say, 'You can take the boy out of the Initiative, but you can't take the initiative out of the boy.' "
The two men held hands and looked down at the Lilliputian Vampire laid on a white tea towel, itty-bitty wires and tubes coming out of his miniscule body. A nurse entered with a Barbie™-sized pair of tongs and what looked like a stainless-steel stir-stick.
Angel gasped, which again was strange because, hello! Vampire! You don't breathe, ding-dong! But Riley, stalwart and true Riley, who hid all of his lust for the dark, grumpy, fuss-pot of a Vamp behind seething rage and hatred, just gave his hand a squeeze, then brought it to his Iowan lips for a chaste, but meaningful kiss.
Angel said with remorse, regret, and repression, "I still hate you, fucker."
Riley chuckled, and broke apart their hands to make finger-quotes while he stated, "Yeah, I 'hate you' too."
Angel sighed (again, dude! Come on! You had over 250 years to figure this shit out!), and prepared himself for hours of flipping through out-of-date magazines, nothing but the steady beep of the machines that kept his lover alive, er, undead, as company.
A soldier approached him with a clipboard.
"Sir? We have some papers for you to sign. And the bill."
"Bill? You're going to charge me? How much is all of this going to cost?"
"Well, if it had been a normal-size man, it would be upwards of five million, nine-hundred eighty-seven thousand dollars. Before tax, which brings it to... Six million. But, since he's so Wee, we're looking at twenty-seven dollars and fifty-two cents. After tax."
Angel took the clip-board and signed his X.
"Uh, sir? I'm afraid you can't sign 'X' for your name."
Angel looked coolly at the soldier, contemplated ripping his throat out, but remembered that being a vampire was about SEX and not KILLING, and refrained. And signed 'Angel' in a lovely, flowing calligraphy.
Riley ran out of the OR, breathless because he was human and apparently in very poor shape, and grabbed Angel's hand. "He's waking up!" They kissed, and then went into the operating room.
Two nurses were using cotton swabs to clean the tiny body on the operating tray. They pulled the Kleenex™ off his body to reveal...
Angel gasped and clutched at Riley's powerful, military arm. Riley looked askance at the butch Vampire. Gasping? But then Riley had turned his full attention on the weeny platinum-topped Vampire and gasped himself, and rightfully so, being human with working lungs, and all.
Protruding from the pint-sized (milliliter being more appropriate, Spike being from the UK and all, but this was an American operation, dammit) blood-sucker and ass-fucker was what appeared to be-
"A telescope? Did you replace his glorious cock with a telescope?" Angel began weeping.
A doctor, a MILITARY doctor, came from behind a large, beeping machine. "No. It isn't a telescope in the traditional sense. But it is a bionic, telescoping dick. He will be able to make it as large as he, or we, need. It makes a cool neeneenahnah sound when it expands, too."
Angel felt the world swirl around him as he began to pass- crap. He blinked feverishly. "Did you say as large as we need? Why do YOU need it to do anything? He's my Wee!Spike! I paid for him and everything!"
Riley began to soothe the upset serial killing vampire with tender kisses along his jaw-line. "Angel. I asked for fine print to be inserted in the bill of sale that you signed, beautifully, I might add, that I have access to Wee!Spike. For purely experimental reasons, of course, because anyone familiar with my history knows I hate the two of you with every fiber of my being."
Riley's hateful hands were now working the belt buckle of Angel's pants undone.
"Yes. Yes, of course, I see."
"A... Angel? Love tits? You here, Captain Forehead?"
Riley raised his hand in salute, then realized Spike was talking about Angel. Angel did up his pants and rushed to Spike's side. Well, he rushed over to the shiny tray Spike was laying on.
"Baby? My little moppet?"
"Oi! Was YOU that turned into a puppet, not me!"
"No, no, schmoopy, I said 'moppet' as a term of endearment, because I'm running out of ways to say 'I love you, little fella!' How... how do you feel?"
Spike tried to keep his eyes open. Every square centimeter of him ached. He smacked his gummy, dry lips a few times and croaked out, "Horny."
The nurse staff high-fived at a job well done and Riley planted a tonguey kiss on Angel in congratulations. There was a metallic clinking. Angel turned (in slow motion) and saw the Wee pee-pee on his doll-sized lover telescoping straight up. And right into his heart. Metaphorically speaking, of course.
Wee!Spike would live. Stronger and hornier, for ever.